Page 57 of Guarded By Death

After some persuading, he gets me on the bike. I'm wearing his riding jacket as well as his helmet. The roads whip past us at a steady pace as we glide towards a more wooded area, flat road, and curves ahead.

I lean my face close to his ear. "Okay... What about if a piano falls from the sky?" I yell over the rustling wind.

He shakes his head back and forth and I see his shoulders bouncing from laughter.

He turns his head sideways. "Do you want to keep underestimating my ability to protect you?" I see his deep dimple on the side of his face, I just know a mischievous grin is underneath it.

"Yes," I respond, jokingly.

He shrugs. "Hold on then." He turns his attention back to the long stretch of road ahead of us. His hand twists the throttle all the way back and the bike stands on one wheel for a moment before it smashes back down onto the pavement. I scream, not out of fear, but out of excitement as we fly down the road. I can't help but hold him a little tighter out of instinct, but he is right. I'm safe with him. We whip down unfamiliar roads at an alarming speed.

I tense up when we reach a sharp curve, it feels like we’re flying as we glide in perfect precision past the harsh bend. Nervous laughter booms from my chest as we continue down the tree-lined roads.

Hours have passed and I don't know where we are, nor do I care as I hold him close. The world passes us by in a blur.

I point when I see a diner, he nods as he pulls in. The entire building looks like it's wrapped in aluminum and the bright colored lights add to the fifties style decade theme. He helps me off and I peel off the leather jacket and place the helmet on the seat, hoping my hair doesn’t look too wild.

I step into the cold, air-conditioned diner and shiver; Pierce offers me his hoodie and I graciously accept. The restaurant is near empty, minus one man who sits at the bar picking at his fries.

A sign directs us to sit wherever we like, so I head to the farthest booth at the end of the diner so we can have privacy to talk. The seat is the color of a fresh-picked strawberry, and the old leather has a few torn spots. I slide in and glance out the large glass windows that line the room.

Rain begins to patter outside; I stare at the black motorcycle and groan realizing I'm going to be soaking wet on our journey home. Pierce's warm hand wraps over mine from across the table.

A woman in a red poodle skirt walks over to us. Her lipstick is almost a perfect match to her ruby skirt and her brown hair is pulled up into an elegant bouffant to match the theme.

She pulls out a notepad. "Ready to order?" she asks with a wide smile.

I haven't had time to look at the menu, but the man seated at the old school bar top has a plate in front of him that looks delicious.

"I'll have whatever he has." I point to the man who is facing away from us and she glances over.

"Chocolate shake, fries, and a cheeseburger?" she asks, and I nod.

She directs her gaze towards Pierce, and I see her cheeks blush as she looks at him. I can't blame her though; he draws the attention of a room just by being in it. Plus, the fact that he's watching me with a curious expression means he doesn't notice her interest.

"Same," he replies in a neutral tone. "But just one milkshake, two straws." He holds the correct number of fingers up and sends me a wink.

"Right away," she says as she scurries off.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, tilting his head sideways.

"I'm just imagining you in this era." I gesture around at the old black and white photos that adorn the walls.

"I didn't do much mingling." He shrugs

"Oh?"

"I told you at the beach. Before you, my life was just being the reaper. Not much else piqued my interest." He states with a matter of fact tone.

I know he mentioned that, but I didn't think about it too much. I mean, didn't he have a friend throughout the years? Was he all alone? The thought saddens me, and he runs his fingers on the side of my hand that he's holding.

"Don't be sad, okay?"

"It's just... I hate that you had no one to talk to all this time. No friends to turn to." I say.

"Why would I make friends with people that are just going to die? I outlive everyone on this damned planet." His tone holds hostility.

I play with the silverware in front of me, slowly spinning a fork as I look down at it. "You do know I'm going to die one day and you're close enough with me."

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