Page 31 of Burn (Two Wheeled Psychos #2)

Darkness is my friend once again and the noises of the cars driving by on the highway become farther between with the cessation of rush hour traffic and nightfall. All day no one stopped, they just left me here, but I can’t blame them. I did get a news flash notification on my phone about a serial killer on a black motorcycle. So no one’s gonna stop for one in distress on the side of the highway.

Hmmm, I wonder who that is? Jesus now we’ve got the cop’s attention. Loser doesn’t even begin to describe your ass.

“Oh fuck off.”

I grumble, finally rolling over and pushing myself up. I can’t lay on the ground forever. I need to piss and I’m hungry, and if I don’t return to the firehouse soon, they really will put out a BOLO for me.

Stretching out my aching muscles from the ride then lack of activity, I pace back and forth on the shoulder of the road, kicking rocks and trash that is scattered in the gravel and dirt. When I’m loose enough that I won’t pull something, I go back to the bike and lift her up. She’s unscathed except for some grass stuck in her little crevices, but they pull out easily. She’s gonna need a bath though when we get back.

“Come on big girl. Let’s go home.”

I sigh, starting her up, and walking her in neutral to the shoulder, past the gravel, where I can get a good tire grip on the highway.

Now that the intensity of my mental breakdown has subsided, I’m more numb than anything. I don’t really have a death wish anymore, and I sure as shit don’t want to kill any innocent people by creating an accident in the dark, on the road.

Sounding a little back to normal now. You done being a bitch?

I’m not even gracing him with an answer. In fact if I ignore him completely, maybe he’ll get bored and go away.

The ride back into the city is quiet, with no speeding or death-defying stunts, and I laugh to myself that I was able to pull off a wheelie I’ve never done before. It was magnificent if I do say so myself. I bet if I try it again this time it would kill me, now that I don’t want it to.

The summer air is refreshing once I get off the freeway and can actually breathe instead of the wind whipping my breath away. The side streets give the scents of the flowers and earthy tones of the season, and the inner city presents the smells of all the fancy restaurants and bakeries, with the aromas of food making my stomach grumble.

I’m not paying attention to where I’m going, I don’t need to, I know the city like the back of my hand, but I’m still surprised when I pull the bike up in front of the little bodega a block away from Phoenix’s apartment. It’s like my hunger and all the relaxing smells brought me right to it.

My legs are stiff and wobbly at the same time as I park the bike at the curb and climb off. My hands hurt from the cuts on them in the gloves and I dare not take them off and look, so like a creep with no shirt, leather pants, and gloves on I walk in the corner store and up to the counter.

“Hey, can I get a cheesesteak and fries?”

I ask the guy at the counter, immediately furrowing my brows at him in confusion when he looks me up and down like I have 10 heads.

“Dude, you’re back.”

He says, a wide smile spreading across his stupid face.

I’ve only been here a few times, and always with Phoenix, so why would this guy think we have the of relationship where he can talk to me like were buds?

“Uh, yeah. I’m hungry.”

I say, hoping he’ll just go do his thing and make me food. I’m not in the mood for making friends, especially not after the month I’ve had.

“Fuck, we thought you were gone for good.”

Everything stops. The whole fucking world comes to a screeching halt. My head swims and my heart shoots up into my throat.

“Excuse me. We?”

I choke out past the pulsing in my neck.

“Yeah. Your girl’s been beside herself for weeks.”

“Hold on. My girl? What girl?”

I’m freaking out. He can’t mean…

“Phoenix dude. She’s a fucking mess. Told me you died in an explosion or some shit.”

I can’t believe my ears, or what he’s saying, this has to be an auditory hallucination. He can’t be serious. I watched her blow up in the ladder truck. I saw the pieces fly through the air before I lost consciousness. The guys, and the captain told me she was dead. Why would they lie to me?

“No that can’t be. She’s dead.”

I mumble out, my brain moving a mile a minute, my tongue catching on itself.

“Since when? She was just here like an hour ago and got her usual now that she can finally eat again.”

“Phoenix.”

I whisper in disbelief.

“Phoenix, oh God.”

“You thought she was dead? She thought you were dead. Jesus Christ.”

He says, and looks just as shocked as I feel. His face is ashen, and he pauses before flapping his hands at me.

“Go, get the fuck out of here and get your girl man.”

It takes a second of staring at him for everything to come together in my head, and I’m frozen in place, my feet feeling like they are imbedded in concrete shoes.

“Oh fuck! Phoenix! Angel, I’m coming!”

I yell, surprising myself and the poor guy behind the counter.

My shoes squeak on the polished floor as I turn and run. I run as fast as I can, dodging some woman at the door, almost knocking her down, and not stopping to help her.

“Sorry.”

I shout behind me as I leave her to get her bearings and dart across the street, running down the sidewalk as fast as my sneakers will take me.

I’m out of breath and I know it’s not from the exercise, I’m more physically fit than most people. No, I’m out of breath from the excitement of what could be.

Her steps almost trip me up, and I catch myself on one of the floral planters, knocking it over, spilling the dirt from it onto her stoop, but I just jump over it and crash into her front door.

Its locked, and I jiggle the handle aggressively then bang on the door with my fist. I hit it so hard that the wood cracks and my fist bleeds.

“Phoenix. Baby. Baby, open up.”

I scream at the top of my lungs.

“Baby, please.”

I’m a madman hitting her door, kicking it, and screaming until I hear sounds come from inside. They’re quiet, and they sound like tears, which only makes me yell more.

“Baby, Angel, it’s me. Zeph. Open up baby.”

The door rattles on its hinges, and just before a final kick breaks it down, it pops open and swings inwards, revealing an angel in the flesh.