Page 119 of Trusting You

He rushes over, in the leather jacket I remember, his hair blowing loose across his face. “Hey, you okay? What’s happened?”

“An-an accident.”

His gaze strikes alert. “Is Locke hurt? The baby?”

“I don’t know. I’m waiting for a car to take me to the hospital. The ambulance left without me.”

Because the ambulance was meant to wait for me. I need to see, I have to make sure.

“Come on.”

He grabs my arm, not gently but not too hard, and pulls me to a motorcycle parked around the corner from Locke’s apartment.

“You ever ride one of these before?” He asks as he throws one leg over and offers me a helmet.

“No, and I don’t care.” I shimmy behind him, strapping on a helmet that resembles the ones worn during WWII.

“All right,” he says. “Hang onto my waist. Don’t let go. And watch your leg on the exhaust. It’ll burn your skin right off.”

“Fine,” I say as if I care what happens to my exposed thigh. “Go. Ride.”

His answer is to twist the throttle, a vibrating roar coursing through both our bodies. We fly out of the parking spot and onto the road, and we can’t get to Locke and Lily fast enough.

Locke.

Lily.

I’m coming.