“I don’t think I can,” I admit, my voice barely breaking the surface.
Without a word, he maneuvers around me and climbs off the bike with little issue.
“Come here.” He reaches for me, lifting me under the arms.
Despite everything that’s happened tonight and where I find myself, I flush when he pulls me against his chest before he gently lowers me to my feet.
He smells incredible. Like outdoors and firewood. The combination is oddly soothing.
“Where are we?” I pull off the helmet and extend it to him before taking a step back. I cringe when I step on something small and jagged.
“My house.” He nods his head toward the front porch. “Come on, let’s get inside.” With that, he spins around and walks away, not waiting for me as he drops the helmet on the porch and pushes his way through the creaky screen door.
“What the fuck took you so long?” I hear as I step in behind him.
My eyes go to the man lounging on the couch, a beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other. I’d guess he’s around the same age as the man who brought me here. His dark hair is shaved short and he’s got a full beard covering his face. It’s long enough that you can tell he hasn’t shaved for quite some time, but not so long that it looks unkept. And while he too has a number of visible tattoos, along with a small ring in the corner of his bottom lip, he’s nowhere near as intimidating as the man I rode here with. Then again, he’s not nearly as good looking either, which might play into the intimidation factor.
A quick smile tugs at his lips when he looks at me from his seat.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” He clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Little young for your taste, isn’t she?” His gaze goes to where my savior—or my capture—I’m not sure which yet, sits on the arm of the chair to kick off his boots.
“It’s not like that,” he grumbles. “She needed a ride.”
“And so you brought her here?”
“Where the fuck else was I supposed to take her?”
“I don’t know, maybeherhouse.” Chocolate brown eyes meet mine. “Excuse our bickering, puppet. T here has a habit of bringing home strays.”
“T?” I question, not sure what else to say and feeling increasingly more awkward by the second.
“You didn’t even tell her your name?” He pushes to a stand, stabbing his cigarette into the ashtray before turning toward me. “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s a moody bitch.” He extends his hand. “I’m Link. That there is Titus.”
Titus... Finally a name. And it fits him.
“Fallon.” I take Link’s extended hand and give it a hesitant shake.
"Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Fallon.” He smiles and the action eases the tension in my shoulders a bit.
I don’t know what it is about this guy. He could be a complete psychopath, but there’s something about his smile, and his eyes, that make me feel oddly welcome and safe.
“Can you see if you have anything she can wear?” Titus interrupts, pulling my attention back to him.
In the light of the room I get my first really good look at him, and my god, he nearly takes my breath away. He’s that good looking.
“That’s not necessary.” I startle at my own voice like I didn’t realize I was talking.
“You want to sleep in that?” Titus gestures to my torn bathing suit cover—the two-piece visible under the sheer white material.
“Sleep?” I question. “I’m staying here?” Did I really think he was going to drive me all the way out here just to turn around and take me somewhere else? I don’t know why the thought hadn’t occurred to me before now.
I wasn’t thinking clearly when I asked for a ride. Then again, I don’t want to go home, either. If I had, I would have asked him to take me there. I sat quiet while he drove me further and further away, not once objecting or asking him to stop. I can’t help but wonder why that is.
Maybe it’s because I already know.
Isn’t this what I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember? What I’ve craved? To disappear where no one would ever find me. To be someone else.
Then again this isn’t really what I had in mind when such daydreams filled my head.