Page 66 of Rescuing Kaye


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All around us, the constant hum of traffic flows by. Sirens wail in the distance and the roar of the freeways, with their never-ending stream of vehicles, makes the night come alive.

The deep, growl of the Harley fills the night. Zeb reaches back, grabs my hand, and places it around his waist.

“Hold on, luv. I hope you love a ride on a Harley better than a ride on a zip line.”

“I’m definitely looking forward to this.”

I wrap my arms around his waist and lean against his back. Without any shame, I take in a big breath, inhaling his uniquely warm scent as I close my eyes. He engages the clutch and we merge into traffic.

SEVENTEEN

Kaye

The wind rushes pastmy ears as Zeb’s Harley roars down the street. The Harley is an adrenaline-fueled, gas-fed, living, breathing thing, coming to life beneath me. It rumbles through the city streets, holding back its power until it can unleash itself on the open road.

I cling to Zeb from behind, feeling his strong back through the thin fabric of his cotton T-shirt. I peek over his shoulder, letting the wind whip my hair. The smell of oil and exhaust, rather than noxious, somehow enhances the ride.

Night has truly fallen. Stars shine brightly, peeking out from beneath ribbons of clouds streaking across the sky.

We exit the city, then find our way onto PCH-1. Two hours of driving along the coast lie ahead of me. To my surprise, the air is warmer than I would’ve thought, and some heat rises from the motor beneath me to beat away the chill.

The engine hums between my legs, singing a lullaby. The first hour is exhilarating. The only sound is that of the engine, the wind whipping through the air, and the occasional car ahead of us.

After the horror of yesterday with Scott, I feel free. At one point, I let go of Zeb’s waist and lean back in my seat. I stretch my arms out wide, letting the wind whistle between my fingers. It feels like I’m flying, free from the constraints of my life.

Free from Scott’s abuse.

Free to do as I please.

I soar down the road, leaning into the curves, then I wrap my hands around Zeb’s waist and place my cheek against his shoulder. Eyes closed, it feels like I’m in a dream.

It’s as if the Harley can carry me to new adventures and places where I truly am free.

The front headlight illuminates the dark highway, but that only makes the experience more invigorating. To my right, steep cliffs drop down to the ocean below. Every now and again, the pounding surf penetrates the low rumble of the Harley and reaches my ears.

I’ve never felt more alive.

Euphoric.

About an hour into our ride, Zeb stops at one of those scenic lookouts. When I climb off the bike, the soreness in the muscles of my legs comes as a surprise. The wind swirls around us, chilling me, but I barely feel it.

Overhead, a full moon shines down on the ocean. Dark and mysterious, the black waters surge below us, crashing against the rocky coastline booming like thunder. White froth dances on the tips of the waves, glowing in the moonlight, and every now and then, a bird dives down to plunge into the water, seeking its evening meal.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Zeb comes up behind me. He wraps his arms around me and stares out into the ocean. The heat of his body warms me and my senses grow hyper-alert. I inhale his rich scent, a mixture of leather, gasoline, and something uniquely Zeb.

“Absolutely stunning.” I lay the back of my head against his chest and grip his arms as they wrap around me.

“I love coming to places like this, especially at night,” he says.

“You do?” I twist my neck to look into his eyes, mesmerized by him.

“Fewer people. I can sit alone with my thoughts. The smell of the ocean, the salt and brine, and the constant movement of the water soothes me.”

His words resonate with me. Something about the ocean just centers me.

“It’s amazing.” My voice comes out soft and almost a whisper.

“You’re cold.” He shifts behind me, releases his grip around my waist, and runs his hands up and down my arms in an attempt to warm me.

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