There You Stand (Between Breaths 5)

Jude’s words about protection from the club echoed back at me and I decided right then and there that if Jude couldn’t share anything with me than I couldn’t give him anything more than my friendship. That added extra weight to my chest, but I needed to show myself that respect.

I took a few more minutes to stare at the water’s edge and then hopped on my bike to head to Jude’s. As I rolled up his driveway, a curtain swung back in place when I passed his neighbor’s house. I wondered if his landlord watched out for him, too. Vaughn’s words echoed back at me that Jude was finally safe.

Jude was wheeling his bike from the garage. He had slipped into a pair of jeans and black motorcycle boots and damn, he looked good. He grabbed for his helmet and snapped it under his chin.

“Do you like to fish?”

My neck snapped back and I remained silent while I thought about it. I’d only been fishing a couple of times and I kind of hated it. The waiting, the silence, the stillness.

“Too quiet for you?”

“Smartass,” I said, but he didn’t laugh.

“I was being serious.”

“Think you got me figured out?”

“I hope so,” he said.

“Well, I don’t have you figured out at all,” I said, terser than I’d intended. But it was like all of my emotions these past few days were coming to a head. “In fact, the more time I spend with you the more questions I have.”

His face fell and his eyes darted to the ground. “I know.”

There was a long silence between us.

“You frightened of me, Cory?” he mumbled.

“No,” I said and his shoulders unwound. “But my heart is.”

He sank down on his bike and before he started the motor, he said, “My heart is afraid, too.”

I closed my eyes and nodded in understanding.

We didn’t discuss where we were going, just headed back toward the freeway and out of town.

It felt good to ride next to him, the wind at my back. Liberating. Unencumbered. Whereas one time, I balked at the idea of sharing this experience with anybody because it reminded me of David, now I welcomed it.

Because no matter how crazy and jumbled Jude made me feel, being in his presence also rooted me. And that was confusing. And complicated.

Being on the open road brought a different kind of quiet that I’d been avoiding the last couple of years because there were too many memories.

You needed to remain alert in traffic and there was always something to look at—a slideshow of scenery and people.

I’d take this over fishing any day, where you had to sit or stand in one spot for hours. Just waiting for something to happen.

We rode the back streets for a long time, passing by farms and fields before reluctantly turning around to head back home.

“Looks like a possible storm,” I shouted to him at stop sign on a deserted road. My head was rolled back, staring at the sky, and I had spotted some dark clouds in the distance.

“Rain bothers you, true or false?” he said.

I bit my lip and nodded. Then sped off ahead.

It felt amazing being with Jude. Even though there was no way to talk easily on this kind of ride, I was sharing something with him in a different way and got to know him better in the process.

He was a bit of a daredevil on the road, similar to how he was on his skateboard. When there was no traffic in sight, he’d gun the engine down the lane, riding in the middle of the road, giving me a heart attack when I’d see a dip or a bend up ahead.

Whereas I was extremely cautious since David’s accident, Jude took chances. I had to wonder if this was his outlet, his release, since he had to hold it together in public all the time.

I’ll admit I was sometimes tense when I rode with David, but for a different reason. His recklessness had been internal. Kind of like Dex’s. Neither of them knew how to hold their alcohol well. I hadn’t seen Jude under the influence even once and I was going to guess it was because he had to remain alert and in control at all times.

A couple of exits before our own, Jude motioned for me to pull off the freeway. I followed him into town, where he turned down a side street and then pulled into an empty lot. When I sidled next to him, he pointed. “See that ramp?”

I looked ahead and saw a concrete loop and barrier.

“This is where the games are going to be held.”

I spotted trucks and trailers, a Bobcat and a crane, and realized that plenty of construction had to happen in order to set up an event like this.

“You excited to see the show?”

At first there was wariness in his eyes that I didn’t understand. But it changed over to enthusiasm as he nodded.

“What part of you is on edge about it?”

His forehead crinkled. “What do you mean?”

“I can see it in your eyes,” I said. “There’s something that concerns you about this event.”

His mouth quirked up. “Guess you know me better than you say you do.”

I shrugged. “Recently I’ve had lots of practice reading your expression instead of listening to your words.”

“Fair enough,” he said, holding my gaze. “I kind of like that you know me, because nobody else does. Not anymore.”

My heart hammered in my chest and I fought to keep my emotions in check. Nothing had changed between us. He was still holding back.

“You going to answer my question?”

“Does rain bother you because of the accident?” he asked, turning a question back on me.