Page 15 of Rock On

She’d laughed and reminded me that I was the millionaire rockstar, and she had nothing. If I ever decided to leave her, she needed something to fall back on.

I’d laughed and told her that was never going to happen.

I hit the accelerator, leaning forward and moving with the bike as I tried to outrace my thoughts. In, out, and around, I was moving at a fast clip, the speedometer edging up toward a hundred. Far too fast for a busy freeway like this, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. It felt good, the wind against my face and the sun glinting off the chrome of the handlebars.

An old Honda going no more than forty was in front of me, with an eighteen-wheeler to my left and some douche in a Maserati on my right. He was keeping pace with me, making it impossible for me to go around and forcing me to slow down a little. Annoyed, I revved the engine and lifted my hand in his direction, letting him know I wanted to pass. The guy smirked and gave me the middle finger salute in response and my hands tightened on the handlebars.

What the fuck?

I took a quick look around, trying to assess the traffic with my ability to get around the current clusterfuck. The Honda and the semi wouldn’t be a problem, but the Maserati was a crap shoot, because it had speed the others didn’t. I could do it, though. Without warning, I hit the brakes and dropped back a couple of car lengths, then I hit the gas and turned the handlebars to the left, going behind and around the semi. I’d just pulled up alongside it when the eighteen-wheeler suddenly started to swerve.

Before I had time to react, he fishtailed, causing cars all around me to scatter. I tried to get out of the way, but I was going too fast to react quickly. A yellow Mini Cooper that tried to get out of the way nicked my back tire and sent me into a spin. I yanked on the handlebars, trying to stay upright, but there was too much going on. Cars and trucks were facing the wrong direction, the semi was now perpendicular to the flow of traffic, and there was nowhere for me to go but down.

A red Tesla tried to get out of the way, but I hit it hard.

The last thing I remembered was thinking that I wasn’t ready to die.

SIX

Harley

Wynter and I shared the cooking duties most nights, though it depended on her shifts at the hospital. She wasn’t home for dinner when she worked nights, but today was her day off so I was making one of her favorites, beef stroganoff, hoping she’d be more interested in eating than zeroing in on the hickey on my neck. She’d been out running errands most of today and I’d figured she would be distracted, but she narrowed her gaze the moment she came in, which meant she was going to say something.

She paused to kiss the top of River’s head and then folded her arms across her chest.

“Hey,” I said, unpacking the grocery bags she’d put on the counter. “Did you get milk?”

“I did. And that chai tea you like.”

“Thank you.” I went into the pantry to put the nonperishables away.

“Where did you go last night?” she asked under her breath, following behind me.

“To the cemetery,” I replied, not looking at her.

“In the middle of the night?”

“It’s the only time I can be alone. There are always fans during the day.”

“Going to the cemetery so often isn’t healthy,” she said quietly.

“You think I don’t know that?” I lifted my coffee mug to my lips and took a sip.

“Then why do you continue to do it?”

“I’m just trying to survive every day and raise my son.”

“You think he’s not going to notice how sad you are all the time?”

“I have time before he’s old enough for that,” I muttered.

“Yes, but—what is that?” She was staring at my wrist.

I looked down and almost groaned. I’d forgotten about the way Tommy had grabbed me and Presley hadn’t mentioned it.

“Harley, what happened? Did you hook up with someone? I know you like it rough but?—”

“It was Tommy,” I said in a harsh whisper, wanting to nip any speculation in the bud before she started imagining the worst. “Okay? He showed up at the cemetery, we argued, and then…”

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