Page 30 of Burn (Two Wheeled Psychos #2)

The sun is over the horizon as I rocket out the front of the catacombs like a bat emerging from a winter’s hibernation in its cave. I blow through the opening, not caring if anyone sees me or is in the way. I’ll run over anybody right now. I don’t care.

The sidewalks are mostly empty, the dealers and whores having retreated to wherever they stay during the day. Like cockroaches they hide from the light, only coming alive during the night.

The glare of the sunrise is bright, glinting off the windshields of cars as I speed towards the highway. There’s no more caring about if I’m caught or arrested, or anything else as I careen towards my salvation. A ride to end all rides, the one that’s going to take me to her, whether that be heaven or hell, as long as I’m with her that’s all that matters.

She didn’t really love you. No one loves you.

He’s probably right, but I can’t believe it. I have to hold onto the hope that she did. If I don’t know she’ll welcome me with open arms then this is all for naught.

My throttle twists back and my foot kicks up when I reach the on-ramp of the highway. I go faster, darting past vehicles as they try to merge into the already present traffic. I scream in my helmet as I shoot out onto the road, almost hitting the back end of a pickup by cutting my steering too short.

I can feel the death wobble of the bike, the tires not gripping, the handle bars shaking, but it doesn’t take me down. I release the clutch more, kick it up one more gear, and fly forward, leveling it out. I need more speed. A crash now would hurt but not kill. If I’m going to go down with my bike, I’m going to make damn sure it’s the last time.

There’s no music playing in my helmet, only the sound of my own cries and the whistling of the wind. Its noisy in the Pista, the sounds of the speed and my pain. I scream as the bike screams, deafening myself as much as the tears running down my face blind me.

I can barely see thought the haze of the wetness in my eyes. Everything is a blur, and I take the bike faster yet, knowing that I’m not going to make it back from this, begging for it. Pleading with the universe to have a cager merge into me and toss me off the road and into a ditch where I belong.

“Come on, someone, hit me.”

I shout as I filter down the zipper, making sure my mirrors are too close to the cars I pass, just hoping to make contact with one them, but for some reason I can’t. I want to. I want to crash and burn, but something won’t let me.

I want to see her, to feel her, to hold my angel, but something is keeping me here. Divine intervention? The curse of Cain, immortality for his sins? Fuck if I know.

“Come on for fuck’s sake!”

I cry out, shaking the handle bars, trying to force another wobble, but it doesn’t come.

The bike is amazingly steady. And I need more danger and more risk. I knock the shifter down three notches then open the throttle more and slip the clutch, making the bike surge in power. The front wheel lifts off the ground in a clutched wheelie, and I yank backwards on the handlebars, taking me further up into the air.

It would be so easy to go back too far, to dump myself backwards and smash my head on the highway, but that too doesn’t come. The bike performs as she was designed to and pulls herself back down.

“Fuck!”

I holler in my helmet, getting pissed at the lack of success in my attempts.

With a growl I unhook my chin strap and yank my helmet off, tossing it onto the highway, watching it in my mirrors as it shatters on the road. My leather jacket is next, fluttering through the air behind me as I pull it off and let it fly. My torso is bare, my head is exposed, and I’ve set it up for maximum damage, but still it doesn’t come.

The wind blinds me more than the tears, drying them on my face as fast as they come. The noise in my ears is so loud, but still I hear him as he mocks me with his maniacal laughter at my failure.

You can’t even kill yourself. Loser!

“Enough.”

Loser, loser, loser.

“No, I’m not.”

Such a loser that you killed her.

“I didn’t kill her.”

You took her with you.

“She should have been safe.”

But she wasn’t. You killed her.

“No.”

Ha, ha, ha, ha yes!

“If I die, you die too.”

I yell into the wind, cranking my steering to the right, cutting off a big rig, feeling his bumper whack my back tire, yet still I don’t go down.

The bike teeters, but all I do is cut across the lane and go off the road, the centrifugal force of my speed keeping me upright until I hit the gravel of the shoulder. As the truck blows past me, his horn blowing, him cursing out his window, I finally take her down, only it’s not a majestic landing on the highway in a splatter of blood and broken bones. No, it’s like a slow-motion fall into the soft grass of the side of the road.

I roll off the bike, kicking her and screaming at her for failing me, but I know it’s all me. I’m the failure. I’m the insane one. I’m the one destined to suffer.

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!”

I scream at my motorcycle that lays on her side safely in the soft soil and wispy greenery.

“Fuck you right to hell with me.”

Once again in the same twenty-four hours I’m on my side, my body curled up, shirtless and crying like a baby. I’m toast, done, utterly destroyed, all over a woman. Go figure.

Cars whiz by, horns honk, but no one stops for me. It’s like they all know who I am, or better yet what I am. No Good Samaritans come to my aide; they just leave me there in a ball on the side of the road to die. Too bad I won’t.

It takes forever until the anguish inside of me simmers down to a bearable level. I lay in the grass, wheezing from crying so hard, holding my head, wanting to stick something in my ears to deafen myself so I can’t hear him , but I know that too will fail. He’s not in my ears, but in my brain.

“A lobotomy.”

I cackle to myself as I imagine sticking an ice pick through my eye socket.

“I need a lobotomy. That’ll cure me.”

The completely random thought has me bolting up to a sitting position and looking around for anything I can use to pick my brain, but of course there’s nothing, and once again the sadness takes me down, making me throw myself onto my back and just stare up at the sky until I need to blink and the images of the clouds above are burned into my vision.

“For fuck’s sake.”