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A house can’t be a home if you’re never there.
I pull on my helmet because I might be in a famous band, but I’m not an idiot. Then, I get my bike revving and pull out of the parking lot, building speed quicker than I should until I’m back on the long desert highway.
As I drive, my pulse starts to calm. I can’t go anywhere without being recognized. Do you know how exhausting that is? All I wanted to do was to play music with some friends, have people listen to it, like it, hell, make a living from it. And now I can’t even go to a gas station in the middle of the desert without someone recognizing me.
I can see the headline now. Music’s Bad Boy Rex Redford Buys Tequila at Gas Station.
My reputation is my own fault, but I’m not the one who sells my stories to the magazines.
A crack of thunder interrupts my thoughts.
What the hell? A thunderstorm in Southern California is rare. In the desert? Unprecedented.
I keep driving, unfazed since there are so few people on the road. It’s a straight shot anyway. Should be fine.
Raindrops start to pepper the face of my helmet which isn’t ideal for visibility, but I’ll make do.
I keep driving, bike growling between my thighs, open road mere inches from my feet. I’m trying to stay focused with the rain growing heavier.
A rare sign is coming up on the right.
I’ve ignored all the other signs.
But this one I don’t.
Ocotillo Valley, 3 Miles it reads.
My heart stutters.
I knew I’d pass Ocotillo coming out here. So why am I surprised?
I tighten my grip on the bike. Three miles and then I’m out of the woods. I can forget about Ocotillo Valley and all the memories that come with it.
Except with each passing plot of road, my pulse begins to rise again. My face flushes.
And I remember her.
Isabella.
I try to wipe the memory away, but it’s no use. This is why I avoid thoughts of her all together because the second she enters my brain, it’s filled with her. Her thick dark waves of hair, chocolatey eyes, soft olive skin, and the perpetual smile at the corners of her mouth.
Five years and the image of her is as clear as it was the last time I saw her.
A horn blares. I come back to reality, and realize I’ve been driving without seeing.
I’ve drifted somehow into the westbound lane.
And there’s a semi coming right for me, headlights burning my eyes.
I twist the front of my bike, tires skidding across the pavement, the earth turning on its axis as I feel myself falling, falling and then –
Darkness.
Chapter 2
Isabella
“Honey, it’s just rain.”
