“Nothing. I’m not really sure.” The Stella who lived in this house, who wore my clothes, and answered to my name was a liar. I wondered if that would be something that remained, something I would never be able to shake, just like so many other dark souvenirs from my time here.
“Stella?” He put his warm hand on mine. “What is it?”
I forced a smile. “Let’s ride. I think it’ll do me good and clear my head.”
“All right. Don’t tell me. Just like everyone else here never tells me anything.” He rolled his eyes. “Come on. I need to change. You do, too. Got any leather?” He stood.
“Leather?”
He grinned. “Yeah, for riding.”
“I need leather to ride a horse?”
He looked over my head and out toward the garage. “Depends on what sort of horse we’re talking about.”
I took his meaning and crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t ride motorcycles.”
“You do today.” He gripped under my arm and pulled me up. “Live a little. Come on.”
Maybe he was right. It wasn’t like I had a lot to lose. Not anymore. I grabbed my coffee and downed it before slapping the cup back onto the table. “All right, hell on wheels, let’s do it.”
We went upstairs, and I inspected my closet. Renee had, in fact, gotten me a brown leather jacket. I pulled it from the hanger and inhaled deeply, the smell delicious and strong. I yanked on some jeans, socks, and boots. Then a tank, sweater, and the jacket, along with some gloves. After pulling my hair into a low, messy ponytail, and snagging some sunglasses from the back of my closet, I felt almost badass enough to ride a motorcycle.
Teddy swung my door open and strolled in, his shitkickers making steady clumps as he walked around my room.
“Don’t knock or anything.” I stepped out of the closet.
“I gave you plenty of time not to be naked. And like you said before, I’m valiant. I wouldn’t have looked or anything.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Well, let me rephrase. I wouldn’t have taken pictures, but I definitely would have looked.”
“Perv.” I gave him the finger and walked past him. “I’m ready to meet my maker. Let’s go.”
We pounded down the stairs and took the short walk to the garage. I’d glanced in here a few times, but I’d never actually been inside. Cars and bikes filled every bit of free space. I had no clue what I was actually looking at, especially given that most of the cars bore emblems I didn’t even recognize.
Teddy stepped toward the back to a row of polished bikes. He chose one on the end, its black metal glinting under the shop lights.
“This one’s mine. I named her Black Widow.”
“That’s not a very reassuring name for a motorcycle.” I ran my fingers down the smooth leather seat. The chrome was rubbed to a high shine, and the bike was low and sleek. If it was half as fast as it looked, I might be screaming my head off before we even made it off the property.
“You’ll love it. Here.” He tinkered with a black helmet and handed it to me. I removed my sunglasses, slid the helmet on, and then snugged my sunglasses back over my eyes.
He slipped his helmet on, and his voice crackled to life in my ear. “It has Bluetooth, so we can talk as we ride. Also, music.” He tapped the screen of his phone and a deep bass starting pumping, backed by someone shredding a guitar. “I’ve already got some tunes picked out.”
“Born to be wild.” I couldn’t help but smile.
He walked the bike out to the front of the garage and threw his leg over. I followed and climbed on behind him.
“Hang on to me. I don’t mind.” The music dimmed as his voice sounded clearly.
“Yeah, I’m sure you don’t.” I wrapped my arms lightly around him as he fired it up. The rumble shook me in all the right places and made my thighs tense against the seat.
“Sounds like heaven, doesn’t it? You ready?”
I propped my chin on his shoulder, our helmets touching. “I’m ready.”
He gunned the engine and we were gone, shooting up the drive, past the house, under the trees, and out into the daylight that filtered down through feathery clouds.
The wind whipped around us as he sped up, the tires devouring the distance to the gate. It was already opening by the time we reached it. He must have had a remote key somewhere on the bike. He turned right, toward town and away from the interstate.
I clung even more tightly to him through the curves and twists in the road, pressing my chest into his back as we tore through the barren countryside. The fields were gray, crops long since harvested. His music changed from hard rock to some sort of electronic dance music. We kept going until the road widened into more lanes, the traffic increasing slightly as the area became more populated. I didn’t know how long we would ride, but I didn’t care. I wanted to fly with him, to just be alive for a little while and not worry about the trial.