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“He was always hanging around the garage. Watching me work. Asking questions. Wanted to know how everything worked, how fast it could go, how much horsepower I could squeeze out of an engine.”
“He used to brag about you at school.”
“Kid was a pain in my ass.”
“You adored him.”
I swallow.
“Yeah.”
For a moment, all I can see is Eli leaning against my bike, wearing that stupid grin.
Come on, Grim. One ride.
“Mom hated motorcycles,” I continue. “Dad rode when we were younger, and she worried about it constantly. When Eli started asking to ride with me, she made me promise I wouldn’t let him.”
Autumn stays quiet.
“I promised her. Looked her right in the fucking eye and said I’d never put him on the back of my bike.”
My hands curl into fists.
“Then one night, he talked me into it.”
“Gray…”
“He’d been begging for months. Said all his friends had ridden with their brothers. Said I was treating him like a little kid.” I laugh bitterly. “And I was twenty-four, full of myself, figured I could handle anything.”
“What happened?”
“We went up the mountain. Nothing crazy. Just a ride to the overlook and back.” I stare at my hands. “He was so fucking happy, Pumpkin. Kept laughing every time we took a curve.”
I stop.
The next part never gets easier.
“On the way home, Tyler Jensen came around a bend in his truck. Crossed right over the center line.”
“Because he fell asleep.”
“That’s what he told the cops.”
I remember the headlights.
The horn.
Eli’s hands tightening around my waist.
“I swerved. Tried to get us out of his way. Front tire hit loose gravel near the shoulder, and the bike went down.”
My throat closes.
I force the words out.
“I remember sliding. Then hitting something. After that, it’s pieces.”
Autumn shifts closer.
