Page 13 of Red's Peril: Part 1

Giving her time to pack, a difficult task as there’s a limit to what she can bring, I light up a cigarette. As I blow smoke out, I consider what I know of her. Not much is the answer. What I’ve seen of her I like well enough and can’t deny there’s a connection between us. We haven’t spoken much, haven’t confided in our pasts, but for some unknown reason, we’ve clicked. Well enough, that we’re both prepared to upend our plans to be together.

Is it because she’s the first woman I’ve been with since I had my freedom returned to me? Should I be more cautious? Yes, I probably should. But how could I ride on, never knowing if there could have been a relationship between us?

I like her, her easy smile, her approach to life which seems to coincide with mine, her ease with people, and her sense of humour. For all I know, I might have found my elusive life partner, literally picked her up by the side of the road.

Well, this road trip will certainly show whether we can make a go of it or not. Riding for miles isn’t easy, and who knows what trials and tribulations will face us? It’s a good way of discovering whether we’re compatible or not.

Although I continue to think of all the pros and cons, inside me, there’s a kernel of excitement at the idea of having her along on this adventure. To see the sights, to share new experiences, and not the least, to share my bed at night. Yes, it’s sure going to have some advantages.

I’ve smoked the cigarette down to the stub by the time she comes out of the house carrying a rucksack that’s not overly large. She approaches the bike and starts to put the straps over her shoulders.

“Hey, give me that.” Getting off my bike, I beckon to her. “You can’t ride with that.”

“It’s okay.” She hugs it to her as if not wanting to part with it.

From the way she’s having difficulty hefting it over her arms, it’s not light. “Darlin’, it might be okay now, but you’re going to feel that weight after a hundred miles.” I delve into my saddlebag to get out the spare bungee hooks I’m never without.

She grins and releases the bag once she sees I wasn’t asking her to leave it. I strap it tightly onto the rack, then offer her the helmet I’d lent her last night. As the day’s chilly, I also dig out a bandana and give her that. Ideally, she needs a full face like mine, at least until the weather gets warmer.

I nod with approval, seeing her pulling on a pair of thick gloves.

“Said your goodbyes?”

She shrugs. “I left a note. Mom’s at work. I’ll call her later.” Her mouth twists and I wonder about her relationship with her parent that she can walk out so casually. Aren’t girls normally close to their mothers? Deciding to question her more at some point, I let it ride for now.

“What about work?” I didn’t take her as someone who’d just walk off the job.

She grimaces. “I’ve got a couple of days off. I’ll call Joe later when we stop.”

Ah, yes, I remember. Perhaps she doesn’t want to call while she’s still in the same town in case someone might dissuade her, as most sane people would. For all she knows, I could be a murderer.

That thought makes me want to reassure her. I place my hand to her cheek. “You’re safe with me, Cheryl.”

Leaning into my touch, she confides, “I know I am, Red. Maybe it’s stupid, but this feels so right.”

I pause only a moment before getting on my bike, kicking up the stand, then holding out my hand. Taking it, she slides on behind me as though she’s been doing it forever.

Before I start the engine, she yells into my ear, “Where are we heading?”

I grin at her over my shoulder. For an answer, I point my hand in the direction I was heading yesterday. “Thatta way.”

She throws back her head and laughs. “You really don’t have any idea of your destination, do you?”

“You know it, babe.” And it’sourdestination now, I remember. The thought puts an even wider grin on my face.

I start the engine, pull in the clutch, kick into first and ease out onto the road, then we’re on our way. Soon, I’ve moved through the gears, have exited onto the highway and am cruising in top. Her body behind me seems right. Her hands around my waist squeeze me gently. While I’ve no intercom and we can’t speak while moving at speed, it’s still companionable.I could get used to this.There’s nothing about her being here that bothers me.

I ride straight for a couple of hours, then pull into a rest stop when her tap on my shoulder suggests she needs a break. When she comes out of the bathroom, she’s rubbing her backside.

She grins at me ruefully. “I’ve got a sore ass.”

Well damn, I should have thought of that. We’ve only covered about a hundred and fifty miles. I’d been planning to more than double that before stopping for the night. Now I’m worried she won’t be able to make it. “You okay to go on?”

I get a sharp look sent my way, and the haughty response, “Of course I am.”

Seeing she’s serious, and thinking,thank fuck for that,we get back on the bike. I do, though, plan to stop off again a little more often.

We ride across plains, miles and miles of open land as far as the eye can see. I settle in to enjoy being one with the road, but have to admit as entertainment, it’s boring. When I feel her slump against me, not wanting her to fall asleep during the ride, I know we have to make another break.

---