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He didn’t answer. Instead, he took off in a run, knowing she couldn’t run the trail in her heels. She took them off and held them in her hand as she took off after him, ignoring the pain in her feet on the rocks that littered her path. She tried her hardest to get out to the parking lot, but by the time she made it, he was gone.
“Damn it.” She pulled her cellphone out of her purse and dialed his number, even though she knew he couldn’t answer her. Once it went to voicemail, she said, “I know you’re hurting, and I know that you’re angry with me. But I’m on your side, Ren, always. You’re doing the right thing. Please tell me that you’re doing the right thing now. If you don’t call back, I understand, but I will be there tomorrow. I wouldn’t miss it.”
After hitting the end button, she looked down at her swollen, bleeding feet. “Fuck it,” she muttered, tossing her shoes in the back seat, driving barefoot towards her home. She passed fresh skid marks at the entrance, their lines showing her it was most likely Lorenzo’s motorcycle that had made them. She shook her head, willing her tears at bay.
She could cry when she made it home.
She pulled over for an ambulance roughly a mile into her trip home, and a sinking feeling hit the pit of her stomach.
“Not again,” she whispered as she pulled out and followed it, passing the turnoff for her home and continuing the path with the ambulance. Another mile or so ahead, and she could see it.
The remnants of a wrecked motorcycle.
“Shit, shit, shit.” She pulled over, her racing heart causing her to break out into a sweat. Carefully, she exited her vehicle, her hands covering her mouth at the trail of debris on the road.
“Relax,” she heard him call out from the back of the ambulance. “I’m fine.”
“Fine?” She stomped up to the ambulance, ignoring her aching feet. “You call this fine?”
“I call it I flipped over the handlebars into the grass.”
“It’s illegal for people to blow their grass out onto the road,” the paramedic was saying as she examined Lorenzo’s eyes. “You got lucky you landed on the lawn. You’re going to be sore for a few days. Let’s get you loaded up so the doctors at the hospital can take a look at you.”
Lorenzo shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“Ren—”
“I said I’m fine,” he cut Katrina off. She crossed her arms as he stubbornly refused any more care, promising the paramedics he would go to the hospital if any unusual symptoms popped up.
“You’re crazy, you know that?”
“Yeah, well...” He stood on the side of the road messing with the hair on the back of his head. “I can’t drive it like this.”
“No shit.”
“I’ll have to call someone to pick me up.”
“What the hell do I look like?”
He glanced over at her and let out a long sigh. “You don’t mind?”
“No, I don’t.” She glanced over where the owner of the house was being issued a ticket for blowing their mowed grass out into the street and shook her head. “That’s twice you cheated death.”
“She’s bound to catch me sooner or later. Can we wait here until the bike is picked up?”
“Yeah,” she said, wincing as she began her walk back to the car.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing,” she replied, though now she had to limp.
“What the...where are your shoes?”
“In the backseat.” She opened the driver side door. “Are you going to get in?”
“Let me see your feet,” he said as the ambulance pulled away, its lights on, going to another call.
“Why?”
