Long Time Running (freewrite)

honeydue (68)in #freewrite • 5 years ago

_{Photo by Darren Bockman on Unsplash}

'So how about it?' he grinned and she laughed and that was that really. The young man's eyes were silent as the giggling girl lifted her leg and straddled his bike. He felt her hands digging into his mid-riff and could sense the old thrill coming up behind him.
'Fuck me, it's late,' she laughed against his shoulder. He felt the alcohol on her breath but said nothing, what could he say now that would make a difference?
'Is that a proposition?' he asked, turning slightly and she froze up behind him, pulling back a little, not quite knowing what to say.
'You wish.'
She tried to pass it off as a joke, but there was nothing jokey about her tone and just maybe something inside her understood the reality that she was outside, in the middle of nowhere, to be frank, with a complete stranger. One on a motorcycle, nonetheless and she would've been thrilled, normally, except she would not approach such a man, for she was far too shy.

'Relax, kid, I'm joking. How did you get out here anyway?'
They were some ten miles outside the city, too far out for her to walk, especially in those boots.
'My boyfriend dropped me,' she said, quieter this time.
'That's not very gentlemanly, is it?'
He felt her relax behind her, just a little. It was in how her stomach moved, how she let herself press against him. It was the cold that did it, the night was freezing and his leather was so warm.
'We had a fight,' she said, burying her head into the side of his coat.
'Oh.'
It was the sort of thing that left him cold, not knowing what to say. 'Are you alright?'
'Yes, yes' she said quickly, 'he didn't hurt me or anything. He just...kicked me out of the car.'
He hadn't hurt her then, but the possibility was definitely there. He'd hurt her before, that much was clear. 'He do that often?'
She hesitated. She was getting anxious, wondering why he wasn't going already. 'Not really. He's not as bad as you think –'
So he's worse.
'– he's just got a bit of a temper, you know?'
Sure he knew. Man, he was the king of temper, alright. He knew all about that alley and why this girl was going straight to hell. It doesn't matter, they all are in the end, he thought as he started it up. They felt the bike humming low under them and that silenced them both for a while. She held on to him as he went and he let her, closing in on him, snuggling almost. Close to him, hold me please. And she held on like she might never let go.

And boy, did he fly. Highway under him, cold night steel between his legs and the engine screaming somewhere in the distance till he was in the road, part of it. He grinned, even if nobody saw and he laughed, big, buckling type of laughter that shook the very walls of his body. His Santa laugh, as the kids sometimes called it.

_{Photo by Goncalo Verdasca on Unsplash}

The girl felt his body and her grip only tightened, because even though the man scared her, the prospect of flying off into the road scared her much worse. He pulled over on the side of the highway, just on the edge of town and she thought this is it, except it wasn't.
'You can tell me, you know,' he said, listening to her breathing, trying to keep calm, but failing miserably. 'You shouldn't stay with people who hurt you, kid.'
'Really, I'm fine.'
She was still deciding if he was a creepy nice dude or just a creepy dude. Oh honey, you have no idea the trouble you're in.
'Just sayin,' he shrugged. 'My wife's ex, he was that type and it still hurts her sometimes, you know? Pains me something awful to see it, but she still has nightmares about the guy. You don't want to end up like that, do you?'
She shook her head against him and her curls tickled the nape of his neck. She sure was pretty – tall, young, blonde curly hair. Might've been right up his alley, in some other life.
'But she has you now,' she whispered and he smiled.
'Yeah, suppose she does. But that doesn't change things. See, once you fuck up, you can't un-fuck it, know what I mean? There's no clean slate, no deleting that from your memory. So you gotta be real careful what you put in that pretty head of yours.'
Her fingers dug into his stomach. 'Okay,' she nodded. 'I'll try to remember that.'
'Good. Now, where we going?' he asked, his head swimming. He tried to shake it off, but the images were getting stronger, the smell of the blood running off his shirt and into his nostrils, despite the biting cold. He wondered how the girl could not smell it. He was practically coated in it. Sticky and red and damning against his scarred skin.
'Just drop me off at the general, if you know where that is.'
'Sure I do, I grew up 'round here. But I can't leave you there. Came this far out, might as well see you to your door, yeah?'

'Um okay,' she said, gulping at the relief of knowing her parents would he waiting up, her father for sure, so if she made it up to there, she was as good as gold. 'It's 13 Browning Street.'
But the man said nothing. He sat in his saddle for the longest of times and looked into the night, certain he was seeing a ghost. A woman, soft and young, almost palpable in front of him, but not quite. Long, pink nightgown smeared with blood, but otherwise pristine. Not now, Chris, not now, love.
'Are you alright?' the girl asked behind him, squirming in her seat.
'Yeah, I'm fine. Peachy, actually.'
He closed his eyes and ran off again, swerving on auto-pilot when he hit Browning Street. His eyes couldn't see, but that was no news. They'd been like this for years. He rode up to what he guessed was number 13 and stopped the bike, perfectly along the curb. No one would've guessed what was on his mind.
'Thank you,' the girl said, not getting up. Somehow, she sounded surprised they were actually here and he couldn't say he blamed her. He wouldn't trust himself either.
'No problem. You take care of yourself, yeah?'
'Yeah. Listen, what's your name?'
'M,' he said. He was growing tired now and the road home was long and uphill.
'That's not a name,' she cried, playful now, safe so close to her home.
'It's the best I got,' he said and started the engine up again before she could ask more. You don't want me, kid. I'd kill you.
And he probably would. He rode off into the night, leaving her on the curb watching, dreaming of a knight in shining armor. So what if the armor was bloodied on the inside? Even knights have their secrets, he thought as the night swallowed him up whole and reunited him with his sins once more.