Page 72 of Blue

I sat up, slid my legs over the edge of the bed, and braced my forearms on my thighs. My hair flopped forward, covering the emotion heating my face.

Kiss kneeled behind me, her thighs bracing my hips, and pressed her lips to my back.

“It’s not you.” I spoke low but with assertion.

“You tell me I can’t rush my recovery.”

I glanced over my shoulder.

“Don’t rush yours.” She pressed her lips to mine, and I closed my eyes.

She smiled against my mouth. “We need therapy. The kind of therapy you get on your bike. Will you take me for a ride?”

Chapter Eleven

Blue

Deserted streets passed in a blur. I rolled the throttle and picked up speed. The rumble of the engine vibrated into my balls, a tingle zipped through me, and my mind slowly drifted off the toxic shit and focused on the girl behind me, clinging to my waist.

Being on two wheels eased the tightness in my chest and calmed the heavy suffocation forcing me into a six feet deep hole.

The bite of the night wind whipped around us. Without helmets, we rode fast and free. Only the glare of the headlight and the glow of the moon lit the night. We were a pocket of movement in a sea of darkness.

Old Post Highway had become a locals-only backroad. I took the exit to the burned-out flour mill. Weather and neglect had taken a toll on the surface of the road. The asphalt had cracked and created potholes the size of craters.

There was nothing out here except silence.

I rolled around to the backside of the factory. Everything but the brick building along the silos had burned years ago. Now, it was nothing but a tagger’s playground. Gangs had left their marks, but time and the elements had faded most of the colors.

“Watch where you step,” I said to Kiss as she slid off the bike. “Keep your gloves on.”

I shoved my bike keys into my front pocket, then linked my gloved fingers with hers.

“What is this place?” she asked, watching where she stepped on the uneven ground.

“It’s an old flour mill.” I led her around to the north side of the building. A rusted steel ladder led to the roof of the aging brick building.

She grabbed onto the rail. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

No. I was fucking terrified to bring her here. This wasn’t a place I came to think. It wasn’t sacred or cathartic. This was my heroin. Kiss was right. I couldn’t rush my recovery. This was my leap of faith.

Only this time, I wasn’t here to contemplate the jump.

The metal groaned as she climbed the first rungs.

I climbed right behind her. If she lost her footing, I’d be able to catch her, or we’d both go down together. Now, I was taking her with me into my morbid fucking thoughts.

She paused on the twentieth rung. “Oh my god.”

“Don’t look down. Just climb. We’re almost to the roof.”

She started climbing again. When we reached the top, she stepped over the wall of the roof. I followed her over. Garbage and debris littered the tar and gravel rooftop.

“This way,” I said and tugged off my gloves.

From this height, the horizon stretched on forever. City lights peppered the skyline to the north. To the east, the distant glow of headlights and red taillights marked the lanes of I-95.

“How did you find this place?” She turned in a circle as she took her gloves off. “It’s quiet but creepy,” she said and smiled.

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