AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The rest scatter, their mockery turning to panic, leaving only empty space and the scent of fear in their wake.
Texas doesn’t slow, doesn’t falter. The heat from his bike mingling with the chill night. My heart careens against my ribs, so loud I’m convinced it drowns out the chaos.
“Jane.” His voice is a lifeline thrown into stormy seas.
He extends a hand to me, rough and ready, the anchor in this maelstrom. I hesitate, every muscle coiled tight, every scar on my soul throbbing with memories of hands that weren’t kind, weren’t safe.
“Come on, darlin’,” he urges, and something in his tone, a quiet strength laced with concern, cradles my fraying courage.
“Okay,” I whisper, and my fingers brush against his.
I clasp his hand, skin to skin, a silent pact between us. The world falls away, leaving nothing but the thud of my heartbeat and the certainty that this man, this moment, will forever alter the course of my life.
“Let’s ride,” Texas says, his other hand already reaching for the throttle, ready to tear us away from this place, I climb onto the bike and as the it lurches forward, I know whatever lies ahead can’t be worse than what I’m leaving behind.
* * *
The world blurs into streaks of neon and shadow as Texas throttles us into the night. Wind whips my hair, tangles it into a wild mane that snaps like a flag behind me. The rumble of the motorcycle vibrates through my bones, a primal drumbeat spurring us on.
“Hold tight!” Texas yells over the roar, his voice a lifeline in the chaos.
I cling to him, my body pressed against his broad back, feeling the solid reality of his presence. Every cell in my body thrums with the speed, the danger, the sheer exhilaration of flight.
“Never thought I’d fly,” I shout into the slipstream, my words snatched away by the night.
“Life’s full of surprises,” he calls back, the hint of a laugh in his tone.
My heart dances a staccato rhythm, punctuated by the engine’s growl. With each mile we put between us and the bar, the heavy cloak of fear that had smothered me begins to unravel, thread by thread.
Then, as suddenly as our escape began, Texas downshifts, the bike easing off its ferocious pace. We glide now, slower, under the skeletal arms of leafless trees reaching up to a velvet sky. The moon is a half-closed eye, watching us in silent vigil as we approach an old, covered bridge.
Texas rolls the bike to a stop at the mouth of the bridge, the engine puttering to silence. A quiet so profound envelopes us that I can hear the river beneath us.
“Take a breath, Jane,” he says softly, dismounting. His boots crunch on gravel. “You’re safe.”
I swing my leg over, my movements stiff, unsteady after the mad dash through darkness. The ground feels alien, too still beneath my feet.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I find myself saying more to the night than to Texas as I stare at the bridge.
“Yep.” He leans against the bike, arms folded across his chest, his gaze following mine. “Old places have a way of holding peace. They’ve seen enough to know when to offer sanctuary.”
“Sanctuary...” It’s what I’ve craved, what I’ve been denied—until this strange, unexpected savior turned up on two wheels. “Thank you.” The gratitude swelling in my throat, thick and potent. “For everything.”
“Nothing to thank me for.” There’s a shadow of a smile on his face, barely visible in the moonlight. “Just doing what’s right. I couldn’t stand by and let anything happen to you.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Let’s not stay here all night, though.” His voice playful now. “Got a feeling you could use some real rest.”
I nod, unable to summon words.
The bridge’s wood creaks beneath us, a whispering testament to the years it has weathered. We are alone here, under the cover of darkness.
I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling exposed. “But you did more than stand by. You acted. No one’s ever... not for me.” It’s a confession, each word heavy with the truth of my past.
“Guess we’re both full of surprises.” The corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile that does funny things to my heartbeat.
In the silence that settles between us, I sense his gaze lingering on me.
“Who are you, Texas Blackwood?” I ask.
“Ah, darlin’,” he replies, his voice a low rumble, “that’s a story full of potholes and dead ends.” He pushes off the railing, closing the distance between us with a few deliberate steps. “Let’s just say I’ve had my share of rough roads.”
