“Why did you insert yourself into the situation? We were having a great time. Everything was consensual, and?—”
“Was it? Did you seriously not see the little baggie in his shirt pocket? The one he was about to roofie you with? Come the fuck on, Peaches. I know you’re naïve, but even you know better than to go out clubbing by yourself, and you don’t even open your goddamn eyes? That piece of shit would have ripped through your virginity so fast then left you bleeding in the goddamn alley without even thinking twice,” Kolter snarls.
My eyes round as my stomach sours.
What?
I sit there for a moment, trying to process everything he’s just told me. He could be making it up to scare me? Based on the look on his face, though, I’d guess he’s dead serious. Which is absolutely terrifying.
“I didn’t know,” I whisper to myself.
Kolter leans back into his seat, nodding as he looks out the window. “You can say thank you now.”
The words don’t come easy. In fact, they don’t come at all. We end up sitting in silence once more until I’ve had my fill of food, then Kolter drops a large bill on the table and stands up. I follow behind him as he pushes open the door, and we make our way onto the sidewalk.
I’m walking almost on the curb, trying to keep some distance between us as I continue to process the night’s events—and what could have happened. Then Kolter curses under his breath and grabs my elbow, yanking me to the side so that I’m on the inside of the street and he’s now walking on the curb.
“Jesus Christ, Nay. It’s not fucking rocket science. The man walks closest to the road; he maintains a visual of all possible exits. Have your brothers taught you nothing?”
“Guess you haven’t,” I throw back coldly.
His expression tenses for a moment before he shakes his head, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He takes a few irritated drags of it then continues down the road, only stopping when he reaches a bike.
It’s not like the one he used to ride. It looks newer, bigger.
He grabs a helmet from the back of the bike and hands it to me. Then he swings his leg over the bike and fires it up—but I’m still just standing there holding the helmet.
“Are you coming or what?” he snarks.
“Where?”
He sighs. “Home. I’m taking you home before anything else can fucking happen to you.”
I frown and cross my arms. “Why would you care?”
He looks at me like I’m being difficult on purpose then shouts, “Goddamnit, Peaches, will you just get on the fucking bike?”
Slowly, I move towards him, trying unsuccessfully to put the helmet on. He scoffs and yanks me closer, fastening it for me, his face only inches from mine.
“I thought you never wanted me on a bike,” I whisper.
I’m so quiet, he shouldn’t be able to hear me over the roaring sound of his exhaust. He does, though, and those intense eyes snap to mine.
“That was when you were a kid. Looks like you’re all woman now.”
I look down at my skimpy dress and instantly feel naked, but Kolter turns his head away so he’s facing forward as he gestures for me to hop on. Carefully, I swing my leg over and sit there for a moment, unsure what to do with my hands.
He unleashes another aggravated sigh before tossing his cigarette on the ground, grinding it out with his foot then grabbing my hands in his. He forces me to grip his torso as he flicks the kickstand up and rolls us backward into the road.
“Hold on tight and keep your dress tucked in. I don’t want to have to beat the piss out of some fucker who accidentally sees all of you.”
I have a hard time understanding why that would matter to him, but then he takes off down the road, and the thought goes flying out of my head. For a moment, I feel like we’re going to tip over, mainly due to my imbalance, so I plaster myself against his back and hold on to him as tightly as possible, to the point that my arms are shaking from the strain. Kolter grunts, no doubt because I’m strangling his stomach. He doesn’t ask me to stop, though.
We sail through the streets, weaving in and out of traffic as if we’re floating instead of driving. Slowly, my fear starts to ebb as I realize how good a driver Kolter is. Still, my heart races when we take a sharp corner that almost has us meeting the pavement,and I let out a yell. It’s a mix of excitement and fear, and when Kolter pulls the bike upright, I’m full-on giggling. I can’t help it.
I continue laughing the entire way home, and I even catch the smallest hint of a smile on Kolter’s face when he checks in on me. It makes me laugh harder, and I can’t help but feel a sense of disappointment when he pulls into our driveway and turns off the bike.
He flicks the kickstand into place before sliding off the bike. I’d do the same, but honestly my legs are shaking from a combination of the adrenaline and the bike’s vibrations. It’s enough that I bet you could get off from the vibrations alone, if you were properly motivated.