Page 58 of Ride With Me

“No problem. Couldn’t just leave ya out there to drown!” The man kept his eyes on the road, but he offered out his hand. “Name’s Bardulf Bishop. Most folks call me Bishop.”

“Blue Harris.”

Bishop blinked in surprise. “Like the color?”

“Yeah.” Blue looked out the window. “Mom was a real big country fan. It’s some song from the fifties?—”

“By my man, Bill Mack! Yeah!”

“Yeah.” Blue probably shouldn’t have been surprised, but he didn’t want to assume someone who talked like Bishop listened to country music. “That’s the one.”

“Your mama got real good taste in music.”

“Had.”

“Pardon?”

“Shehadgood taste. She’s dead.”

“Oh. Condolences. I’m sure she was a mighty fine woman.”

“Thanks. It was a long time ago.”

Rain pattered against the windshield, and Bishop turned the wipers on. The rhythmic squeak of rubber sliding over the slick glass was annoying, almost as much as the slow thud of Bishop’s pulse. Blue could hear it thumping alongside the stupid squeaky wipers, and he did his best to tune the noise out.

After all, it wouldn’t do him any favors to silence Bishop right now since he was driving.

He could wait.

Blue glanced at Bishop, catching a better look at him when a semi passed them on the opposite side of the interstate.

Bishop had a thick red beard, ruddy skin, a shaved head, and bushy eyebrows. His eyes were narrow, maybe blue, though it was hard to be sure. He was attractive in a rugged sort of way, and Blue’s teeth itched again.

He could just catch the throb of Bishop’s carotid artery there on the side of his throat in the dim lights from the dashboard, and he sat on his hands. The low throb was soon a pounding drum that rivaled the thunder outside. He wanted it to stop, he really wanted it to just stop?—

“I got somethin’ on me?” Bishop asked. “Can’t help but notice ya starin’ at me. Is it a bug?”

“What? No?—”

“I don’t mind bugs, kinda like ’em to be honest, but just lemme know so’s I can toss ’em out the window. Sometimes they hitch a ride down in my beard.”

“Sorry. No bugs.” Blue aimed his gaze back out the window. “Just zoning out. Wasn’t really staring at anything.”

“Ah, no worries. I’m sure you must be real tired. Been out on the road long?”

“A few days,” Blue replied easily. It was a lie he was used to telling since he was asked it often enough and wasn’t too far from the truth. “Just been walking straight down the interstate. I like getting away from the world for a bit.”

“I respect the hell outta that. That’s real good. Just shake off the dust and breathe in the real world for a while. Get unhooked from all that internet and social medium shit. Nice, real nice.” Bishop nodded. “Bet your feet hurt like hell walkin’ all day like that, though, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“There’s a hotel up here in this lil’ town that has a jacuzzi tub with jets so strong they’ll clear blow your nuts off. They actually got ’em in some of them fancy suite rooms, so you don’t even have to show your ass in your skivvies in front of a bunch ofstrangers or nothin’. Hard day of walkin’, you could use a good soak like that, and hell, you could jump right on in just with what God gave you.”

It took Blue a few seconds to translate. “They have rooms with hot tubs?”

“Yeah, man!”

“So?”

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