Page 26 of Halfway to Hell
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Eros asked, staring up at the shifting clouds.
“How the hell would I know what you’re thinking?”
Eros squinted. “Those clouds don’t look warm and inviting.”
Texas gave a dry laugh. “Eros, it’s fucking March. Warm and inviting hasn’t arrived yet. If you want sunshine and roses, head south to Florida.”
Hands raised in mock surrender, Eros chuckled. He knew better than to push. Still, he couldn’t help but glance sideways at his friend. Texas didn’t look fully present. The weight of that nightmare still clinging to him like an old coat.
“If we’re running,” Eros said, straddling his bike, “let’s run, Kemosabe.”
Texas looked over at Eros, who was grinning like an idiot. “Nakota,” he warned, “don’t make me skin you.”
Eros busted out laughing, swinging a leg over his bike and settling into the saddle. “If your woman decides riding with you is boring, she can always climb on with me.”
The words had barely left his mouth when Texas whipped his head around, his scowl sharp and instant.
That was all the answer Eros needed.
Yep, Texas was falling for the scared little mouse.
Who could blame him? When a woman looked at you like you held her whole world in your hands… Well, you tended to want to protect that world.
For however long it kept spinning.
Three hours into the ride, they hit standstill traffic. Neither man liked it.
Eros yelled over the roar of engines and pipes, “Been here before!” He remembered all too well—Cree and Kennedy hadgotten stuck like this once, trying to make it to Montreal in the dead of winter.
When he spotted the sign for Highway 29, Eros knew what to do. They could take the back roads, cut over to Highway 7, and loop back to Highway 417.
Signaling to Texas, he pulled onto the shoulder and rolled past the rows of idling cars. At the exit, he turned off and onto Hwy 29. Rolling was better than sitting, especially with that storm creeping up behind them.
They made it into Carleton Place just as the sky opened up.
Rain came hard and fast.
They pulled into a gas station and shut down the bikes. Thunder cracked overhead, rattling the metal canopy above them.
Hell of a season,Eros thought.Had to be the wettest one yet.
“Great call, Nakota,” Texas shouted over the deafening rain pounding the metal overhang.
He pulled out his phone and checked the radar—nothing but green and red swallowing the screen.
Shit.
They should’ve stayed in North Bay.
If it were just him, he’d push through, but he wasn’t about to put Sunday through that. Not in this storm.
The system didn’t look like it would blow over anytime soon. Across the road, he spotted a 7 West Motel. If the storm didn’t ease up in the next hour, they’d hole up there for the night.They were well clear of Sudbury and Sunday’s ex—that was what mattered.
After nearly an hour at the gas station, Texas made the call.
The overhead awning creaked and groaned with each gust, sounding like it might rip free and come crashing down.
Texas pointed toward the motel and called out over the roar of the storm, “I say we make our way over, grab a room. Might as well settle in—this shit isn’t going anywhere until tomorrow.”
