Page 48 of Danger

“Come on, I know that’s not true.”

“It’s sort of true.” I gaze up at the stars overhead. “When I left home I used to steal cars with this guy I met named Kav. And well, I realized I was pretty damn good at driving fast. So I started street racing. And it led to getting into Formula III racing, and it all snowballed from there.”

“The night I picked you up from jail, were you with Kav?”

“Yeah, he kind of raised me. I left home when I was twelve.”

“Oh my god, Danger. Why?”

I shrug. “Bad childhood.”

She doesn’t say anything, and I don’t expand on the subject, mainly because she would never understand. She breathes in deep and then lets it out. “I’m sorry you had a rough time, but what about your mother. She must have missed you?”

“She’s dead.”

“Danger, I’m so sorry.” She wraps her arms around me. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I let her hold me close, because I want her comfort. I crave it.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I suck in a breath, my usual answer on the tip of my tongue. ‘No, I’m over it.’ But, how could anyone ever be over it? I’m anything but over it. “When I was little, she’d bake cookies for after school. She really tried hard to be a good mom, even though she never could do the one thing a mother should do.”

“What’s that?” Monterey’s voice echoes, like she’s far away and I’m trying my best to get back to her. But the memories drown me, suffocating my existence.

“Protection.”

“Oh.”

I feel bad, I want to share more with her, but I can’t let go of the pain hidden deep inside me. And even if I did open up, what would she think of me? “Sorry, it’s just too painful to talk about.”

“I shouldn’t have pried.”

“There’s a lot about my past I don’t really like talking about.”

She holds up a hand, stopping me from saying anymore. “No, it’s ok. I get it. My mother died when I was really young.”

I meet her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. Here I am droning on about my mother when you went through the same thing.”

Monterey smiles. “The thing I hate most is I can’t remember what she looked like.” Her voice is laced with sadness. I recognize it easily. “I remember the way she smelled. She always smelled like fresh cut roses. I remember her laugh.” She stops talking, staring at her hands. “I remember her hands the most. The way she would hold me close.”

“Monterey…” my words fall away, not really knowing what to say. I couldn’t imagine not remembering my own mother.

Monterey wipes a tear away from her eye. “It’s ok.”

I reach over, holding her hand in mine. “It’s never ok. I can’t remember my mother’s eyes. I know they’re brown, like mine. I have pictures. But, I have a hard time sometimes remembering her actual eyes.”

“Time is a tricky monster. It makes us forget things easily.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Is time trying to trick us? Or make the memories less painful?”

Monterey contemplates my words for a minute. “Can I ask you one question?”

“Ask away.”

“Why did your mother name you Danger?”

I turn to face her, appreciating how the moonlight cascades off her shiny brown hair. “What makes you think she did?” She’s pretty out here, late at night with no worries on her beautiful face.

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