Locke
The steady, dull hum of my bike engine is the only sound I hear as I tear down the industrial bypass, cutting south toward the river.
My mind isn't on the road, though, or even where I’m going. It’s back in the dark, warm bedroom of the penthouse, twelve miles behind me.
I can still feel the hollow, trembling weight of Zara’s frame pressed against my chest. I can still taste the salt of her sweat on my lips, still hear the broken, breathy gasps tearing out of her throat every time her body buckled over that plastic basin.
It’s a silent, tearing agony to turn your back on the woman you love when she’s shattered like that, to step out the door and let it shut between you.
I take a deep, slow breath through my nose, forcing my shoulders to drop an inch.
She’s safe. Jade is with h
