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The darkened road disappeared into the trees and echoed back its vacancy.

I pulled back on the throttle, and the engine chugged and roared as I took to the street.

At the sound, Elena hugged me even tighter, that thrill rolling through her on a shimmery wave. Different than this morning when she’d clung to me in relief. Assuaged that we’d all made it home in one piece.

Something in this life we weren’t promised to happen.

Tonight, I could feel the force of her smile.

Her joy in the whip of the wind that lashed against our faces. Adrenaline pumping as my bike vibrated like thunder below us.

Her sweet body was tucked against mine like a second sleeve. Like a sheath that was meant for me but would never quite fit.

Or maybe the whole problem was that it fit perfectly.

Wrong and so fucking right.

The thoughts I had of her were nothing but sin and still hit my mind like I was gazing on heaven.

I kept our pace controlled as we rode down the twisting road, passing by a bunch of cabins and houses, the river blipping into view every few seconds through the gaps in the soaring trees.

Most of the lights on her store were cut as we passed, but I could tell Elena was lit up about the boutique enough that it might as well be a shining beacon.

I couldn’t stop myself.

I set my hand over the top of hers, squeezing them to let her know how fucking proud I was of her.

I took the left onto Holly Cove Ave., the quick cut through the forest, before I made the right onto Crimson Creek Blvd.

I slowed as we rode through the most congested area of town, people out and about, hitting the trendy restaurants that lined this part of town.

A few of the stores were still open as the late-season tourists meandered the sidewalks. Browsing through the offerings of Crimson Creek.

It was so different than when we were growing up here. Everything had changed. Or maybe I’d just been raised in the type of poverty that left me unaware that places like this existed.

My view narrow and aligned with the decayed.

We broke through on the other end of town, and I made the left onto Deer Springs Lane, following it through the family neighborhood. The further out we got, metal buildings surrounded by chain-link fences began to pop up, interspersed with a few office complexes.

We leaned into the big curve, Elena holding onto me the way she promised she would, and we quickly approached the sign for Torque & Talon Autobody Shop.

Tonight, the compound gates sat open wide, which wasn’t uncommon since we actually ran a legitimate business.

It’s what happened everywhere else that slanted into the criminal.

The auto shop building was closed, the bays lowered and locked, and a couple dingy lights illuminated the front of the brick building.

I slowed as we rode over the bumpy dirt lane, driving us deeper into the massive oaks that stood like ominous guards over the property.

Branches spindly and covered in dense green foliage that gave cover to the occupants underneath.

We eased by the clubhouse on the left.

A fire raged out front, and a slew of motorcycles were parked in a semi-circle around it.

A host of cuts littered the area, the faces of my crew lit by the lapping flames that danced in an entrancing inferno at the center of the revelry.

Expressions deepened in the shadows that frolicked and pranced.