Provoke

If I stay here, I’m going to do something stupid.

“I’ll be back soon,” I muttered, stalking out the door. I jumped into my car and backed out of the parking lot.

#

I stopped off at Leets to feed the cat, then picked up my bike from my house and headed for work. I just needed to go somewhere to get my mind off things, and the only place I could think to do that was the garage. Finn would be there, and given my less-than-friendly mood at the moment, he would probably ask questions, but that was a risk I was willing to take.

I pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car, slamming the door. How had shit gotten so messed up? I laughed bitterly. I was a Jordan—this was how my life was supposed to be, wasn't it?

"Wasn't expecting you in today." Finn stood near the roller door, attempting to clean grease from his hands with an old rag.

"Yeah, well, things change," I muttered, setting myself up in front of an old Harley that needed an oil change and a service.

“Is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn't it be?” I shrugged.

“I don't know, you just seem a little off,” he said.

I stood up and wiped my brow with my forearm. I could really use a friend to talk to. The guys were my buddies, but it wasn't like we sat around and shared secrets. We’d known each other for years, but it was a case of meet up and relax, play a few games of pool, drink a few beers—typical guy stuff. We didn’t do feelings and shit.

I struggled to open up to Leet, let alone Finn.

“Just having a few problems,” I muttered.

Finn nodded. “Fine, but if you need to talk, I mean, you can tell me anything, yeah?”

“Yeah, thanks man,” I said, smiling awkwardly. The thing was, I couldn’t ask his advice on anything without going into a shitload of detail.

I resumed working on the bike, unsuccessfully trying to keep my mind off Leeta. After busting my third oil filter, Finn shot me a look.

“Dude, maybe you should go home and relax or something.”

“That's the problem. I can't relax.”

“Yeah, well, no offense, but all you’re doing here is breaking shit.”

I threw the spanner down on the ground, wincing as it bounced across the concrete floor. He was right—I fucking knew that—it was just that the last thing I needed was somebody telling me what to do.

Fuck. Maybe I shouldn't be here. I stood up abruptly, sending the milk crate I'd been sitting on flying backwards.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Have it your way. I'm gone.” I ignored Finn’s protests and stormed back out to my bike.

For the next hour or so, I just rode. I was heading nowhere in particular, and it felt good.

Why hadn't I thought of that first?

There was no better way for me to clear my head than on my bike—especially finding an unused back road somewhere, where I could take my helmet off, do a few burnouts, and just let off some steam. This is what I needed. I already felt better.

Parking my bike, I jumped off and sat down on a grassy patch beside it. It was as good a time as any to try and think out my next move. I couldn't think straight around Leeta. Never could. I knew I didn't want her to be any more involved than she already was. If anything happened to her because of me, I’d never forgive myself.

But I also knew how stubborn she could be.

I gripped hold of a few blades of grass between my fingertips, and tugged them from the ground. Lifting my hand above my head, I let the blades fall, watching as they slowly floated towards the ground, not really knowing where they would end up.

That was kind of how I felt—like I was free-falling without a parachute, with no idea how long it was until I hit the ground.

#