Page 95 of Lost Soul

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I hold the letter to my chest. Everything clear now. Why that day at the warehouse Hayley valued Maddy’s life over her own. She saved Maddy for me. She wanted me to be happy. She took a fucking bullet for me to be with the person I loved, the same girl I’ve just forced out of my life.

“I fucking love you right back, pretty girl,” I speak out loud as if she’s sat right in front of me. I don’t know if it’s my hangover or my imagination gone wild, but I swear I feel a warm touch at my shoulder. It makes my body shiver and urges me to stand up off my sorry ass.

The door to my cabin nearly flies off the hinges at the same time, and a huge figure blocks the sunlight from entering behind him.

“What the fuck you playing at?” Skid’s voice bellows as he marches towards me, pushing me hard in the shoulder so my body slams back against the refrigerator.

“The fuck, man?” I shout.

“Tell me Nyx did not just leave the compound with your bitch.” Skid squares me with his eyes and when I go to answer, he cuts me off before I can speak.

“Jessie. She loves you and don’t even try telling me that you don’t feel the same. Hayley fucking gave up her life for you to be with her, there I said it… Hayley loved you, and I’m done pussy footin’ around your sorry ass. She knew she couldn’t be with you, but she still wanted you to be happy and that’s why she took a fucking Bastard bullet. So you’d have a chance to be loved. And you repay all that by packing that chance the fuck off to Utah.”

“Skid I—”

“Save your shit, man, stop feeling sorry for yourself. I didn't give my chance up, it was fucking taken, stolen from my fucking hands, so you won’t get sympathy from me. Now pull up your big boy pants and get the fuck out there and get her back.”

“If you’d let me finish, I’d tell ya that’s exactly what I’m about to do.” I shrug him off and straighten myself out.

“Well, then what you hanging around staring at me for?” Skid grabs my cut off the chair and forces it into my chest. “Go get your bitch and bring her home where she belongs.” For the first time in a week my friend smiles, and I grab him by the shoulders and bring him in, slapping his back. I grab my keys and head straight out to my bike. “I’ll call Nyx, tell him to turn back,” he calls after me.

“Don’t bother he won’t answer. I told him if he took a call while he was driving with my girl in his truck I’d slice open his stomach and strangle him with his own intestine.”

“Got it,” Skid says, nodding at my point and placing his phone back in his pocket. He follows me out and stands on the porch, watching me as I hop onto my bike.

“Hey, Skid,” I shout over the engine. “You’re gonna be alright. Yeah?” I check, still amazed at how the man could be thinking of anyone other than himself right now.

“Never again,” he shakes his head. “But luckily I got you assholes to keep livin’ for.” He nods, and as much as his answer cuts like a knife it’s good enough for now. I let my wheels kick up the dusty earth and I speed off to get my girl. Praying that I haven’t pushed her too far to get her back.

As travel buddies go, Nyx is up there with the worst of them. He could tell I was distraught, and he was making, what I guess for him, an effort. He’d asked me some questions about my mom, and I gave him back one-word answers because I wasn’t in the mood for a conversation. I doubt it hurt his feelings though, like he would care about my mother anyway.

As we get further out of town and further away from Jessie, I can feel panic starting to overtake rationality. I force myself to take slow, deep breaths, and try not to let the fact I don’t think I could ever go back to not having Jessie in my life again consume me.

My chest is a dead weight, struggling to lift high enough to take in my next breath as the truck continues on the freeway. I start to imagine things. At first, it’s the sound of Jessie’s bike—yes, I can tell his apart from any other bike because it’s a sound I listen out for whenever he isn’t with me. Then I swear I see his sandy blonde hair, blowing wildly as he passes Nyx’s window and cuts in front of us.

“What the fuck?” Nyx says leaning forward over the steering wheel to get a closer look. It gives me a little hope that I’m not hallucinating.

“Is that…?” I ask leaning forward myself.

“Yeah it’s Jessie, crazy son of a bitch,” Nyx confirms, and I suddenly feel the weight lift, my body calming and hope begins to spark.

We follow Jessie for a few kilometers until he sticks his left arm out and points at the next junction. “He wants me to pull off,” Nyx says, following him off the freeway and up the slip road. Jessie leads us to a rest stop and I watch him get off his bike then run towards the truck, and he rips open my door. I barely have chance to absorb what’s happening when he lifts me out of the seat, then without any explanation, he grabs my face between his hands and kisses me until I become dizzy from lack of oxygen. Despite all my confusion, I let him. It’s everything I’ve been thinking about since I left Manitou Springs.

“I’m sorry,” he pulls away to tell me, pressing his lips straight back onto mine, like he doesn’t want to break away even to speak.

“So.”

Kiss.

“Sorry.”

Kiss.

“I don’t understand?” I manage to get out in between breaks of his lips.

“I noticed you the first day I dropped Hayley off at college,” he starts.

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