by K. L. Savage
No, you know what? It isn’t even arguing. It’s bickering over little pointless shit because we get on each other’s nerves.
“Knives, we don’t even like being around one another—” she pauses, lifts her nose in the air, “—I smell gas.”
“Don’t change the subject, Mary. Slingshot isn’t even here.”
“Not… gross, no, not that gas. Like…gasoline,” she coughs and fans her face.
“Jesus, okay, I should have known talking to you would be impossible. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we just need to get each other out of our systems or something,” I say, placing my hands on my hips.
“No, Knives—”
“—I’m going to go get the helmet. Let’s just not talk for a minute, okay? I need to think.” I need to find someone to throw my ninja star at, and since it can’t be Mary, I need to figure out something, because I’m itching to fuck shit up. Maybe I can get with Tongue, and we can go to the Asylum. His brother is there; it’s only fair that we pay a visit. Maybe draw a pound of flesh or two as revenge for all the shit he pulled on us this year.
I shield the upper half of my face with my hand as I look out along the endless amount of sand. The helmet is a good thirty yards away, not too bad, but enough to annoy me because I had to lose my temper. Stopping here was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have tried to teach her a lesson because the only thing I learned is how I want my lips on hers again.
It’s easier than fucking fighting all the time and for no damn reason. I don’t want anyone else. I try to think of Bobby-Jane, her fake tits, and perky ass, but not even thinking of her hands on my cock does anything for me.
She doesn’t have the sass, attitude, or the ability to piss me off like Mary does, and as much as that shit drives me crazy…
I fucking like it.
I want to bend her over my knee and spank her ass every time she gets mouthy.
I stop when I’m about halfway to the helmet and peer back over my shoulder to see Mary standing there, hands tucked in her pockets as she kicks the ground.
The woman is a damn mess, and because I’m an idiot, I want her to be my mess.
A red truck drives by, the window down, and I watch as the passenger flicks a cigarette out the window, which isn’t a big deal.
Until a line of fire starts from the road and makes its way to my bike.
I’ve felt true fear a time or two. And right now is one of those times.
“Mary! Mary! Run!” I yell, but I don’t know if she can hear me. She’s fucking walking in a straight line and doing spins and twists, not paying attention to her surroundings. I pat my pockets for another ninja star because if I can throw one in the air and nail her in the shoulder, she’ll fucking listen then.
Holy shit.
I check every pocket, but I don’t feel another star. I always carry extra.
I pick up my feet and run, the sand making it difficult as my boots sink with every step. My heart is thundering under my bones as I pump my arms. I feel like I’m in damn quicksand with how much effort it’s taking me to run.
“Mary!” I call out her name, hauling ass toward her. She finally hears her name, and when she jerks her head in my direction, the flames engulf my bike.
She gasps, jumping back, but the flames get higher. The hot red and orange fingers dance as they climb into the sky, black smoke billowing quickly.
Mary screams as her shoes catch fire.
Fuck. She said she smelled gas. Of course my bike was leaking. It was probably from the ninja star I threw. I punctured the damn tank.
She’s probably been standing in gasoline, but the sand soaked it up and made the liquid hard to see.
When I get close enough to her, I tackle her to the ground and whip off my cut, patting her shoes until the flames are gone. When they are, luckily, her boots are a bit burnt, but I don’t see her skin. That’s good.
The roar of the fire is too loud. We need to get away before the bike blows up. I pick her up in my arms and begin to run anywhere that isn’t here. We get far enough away right as the gas tank explodes, sending more fire into the air.
I should care more than I do about losing my baby. A man’s bike is his treasure, but a bike can be replaced.
This headache of a woman can’t be.
And I know I can never replace her.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I check her over to make sure she doesn’t have any burns. “How are your feet?”
“Warm, but I think I’m okay. Thank you.” She tucks her hair behind her ear, and her mouth drops open when she sees the bike burning. “I’m so sorry—”
“What is it with you and not paying attention to your surroundings, huh? Are you fucking kidding me? Are you so reckless with your life you couldn’t see a fire?”
She struggles as she gets to her feet since I’m sure they are sore, and I help her by grabbing onto her arms and stabilizing her, but she shrugs me away. “There wouldn’t have been a fire if you didn’t throw your damn ninja star and pierce the gas tank. I told you I smelled gasoline, and you didn’t listen to me.”
“Oh, so this is all my fault? All because I was trying to teach you not to kill yourself driving.”
“Says the guy who threw a damn ninja star at me!”
“I missed you on purpose! I know what the fuck I’m doing with my ninja stars,” I yell, needing to get the last word in.
“So you knew what the fuck you were doing when you aimed at the goddamn gas tank? Trying to teach me a lesson by nearly killing us both?”
“It was an accident!”
She throws her arms in the air and shakes her head. “You’re impossible. Regardless of whose fault is—it’s yours, by the way—we need to call for help.”
I grind my teeth together when she blames me. “Okay, get your phone out.”
“My phone is dead since someone,” she glares at me, “left me in jail.”
“You should blame yourself for that one, Hellraiser. You got yourself into that mess.”
“Fine, whatever. I just want to get home. Get your phone out and call 911.”
I squeeze my eyes shut because I know we are about to get into another fight. “I don’t have it.”
Besides the screeching of melting metal in the background, she doesn’t say a word. “What?” she questions. “Don’t joke right now, Knives. I’m not in the mood.”
“I’m not kidding. I broke my phone days ago. I’m waiting on a replacement to come in the mail.” It’s been nice to get away from technology. It’s put things in perspective. I’ve liked not having it in my hand constantly. I’ve read more, hung out with my friends more, and—
“Are you kidding me! I swear, you constantly pull this shit just to piss me off.”
“Oh, right. I planned to blow up my bike for you, just so you can give me a migraine. Yeah, that’s the dream, Mary. Nice one.”
“Did you leave it at the poor girl’s house?”
Do I hear jealousy? I should tell her I fucked someone. That would crush any…odd, slim, next to nothing chance she and I have together.
“I broke it when I got a call I didn’t want to get.” I’m starting to wonder if I should have answered that call from Seer. I wonder if this was what he was going to warn me about. There aren’t many times I want to know my future, but I would have wanted to know this.
The last thing I want is to be stuck out here with Mary.
“Okay, someone will come. It’s impossible not to see that fire from a distance,” she sighs, sitting down on the desert floor again. “We wait.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her that there have been plenty of people on the side of Loneliest Road that never get helped. They eventually wander the desert for help, only to never been seen again. As long as we stick to the road and follow it, we will be fine.
Not many people travel this road at once. It could be hours before another car comes. I sit down on the desert floor too, wondering how the hell I ended up here.
It’s not like t
his can get any worse.
Thunder rolls above us, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Mary’s head tilt back on her shoulders to look at the sky just like I am. When did storm clouds roll through? Out of all the times it never rains, the weather has to choose today out of all days to show itself?
This is a cruel joke.
“Karma, for leaving me in jail.”
I wish I had tape to keep her mouth shut. All of my torture supplies were in my saddlebag, which is currently roasting.
Stay. Calm.
Don’t. Kill. Her.
Thunder vibrates the ground floor, and the first droplet falls on my face. “If it rains and puts out the fire, no one will come,” she points out.
“Well, let’s not sit here then, let’s go home. We just have to follow the road.” I hold out my hand to help her up, and she decides not to take it.
Independent woman and all that. Good for her.
Or she’s as stubborn as a mule and needs a good smack on the ass.
From my hand.
Because even though she drives me crazy, her body makes me crazier.
In the next blink, heavy blankets of rain come billowing down, stinging my skin and soaking my hair. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I roar to the sky, and in return, lightning cracks in the middle of the road in reply.
Mary grips my hand, then immediately lets go of me when she realizes what she did. My shirt is soaked, the water is flowing into my mouth, and I want to curse myself for not paying attention to the damn weather.
My damn bike is ash, and I’m stuck with a woman that pisses me off as much as she turns me on.
Another bolt of lightning strikes the middle of the road, and the clouds start to spin. “Oh, no.” Whether she likes it or not, I grab her hand and start to run in the opposite direction toward the mountains. If I know one thing about tornados, it’s that they need flat land to gain strength. “Come on. We need to go. Now.” How can all of this happen in one day?
I’m starting to wonder if the Ruthless Kings are cursed. There is always fucking something we have to deal with.
Always.
“Hurry up,” I tell her, dragging her behind me as we haul ass to the mountains.
“I’m hurrying as much as I can! My feet were on fire a minute ago, if you don’t remember.”
Damn it, she’s right. Instead, I stop and swing her into my arms. “What are you doing?” she squeaks.
“Hurrying like I fucking want to.” I throw her over my shoulder, wrap an arm around her legs, and check behind me to see if the funnel is being formed. My heart aches when I see the burnt pieces of my bike and the flames dwindling from the fire. The smoke will be there for a while. It’s just as black as the sky is turning. I glance up to see the beginning of a funnel starting. The clouds are spinning, and I swallow, wondering if we are going to be able to get away in time.
“Why did we stop? Is everything okay?” she asks.
No. We are about to be tornado fodder. I turn around and look into the woods. The mountains are right behind them, and I know there are plenty of nooks and crannies we can hide in. I start sprinting toward the forest again, through the wind and rain. My eyes sting as the water bullets them. I don’t have a free hand, so I can’t wipe my face.
Small beads of hail start to fall next. The black clouds light up above us, and a second later, the thunder follows. I hiss when they pepper my skin, and as I enter the canopy of the trees, the only thing I can feel is the danger of the storm surrounding us and the whistling through the wind.
“Knives, I’m freaking out.”
“Everything is fine. I just want to make sure we’re away from the threat.” I don’t want to tell her that I’m freaking out too. Bad fucking omens everywhere. Maybe this is the universe telling me that if Mary and I get together, the world will explode.
Because not a damn thing has gone right since I’ve kissed her.
Damn, I should’ve answered Seer’s call. I’ll have to apologize to him.
Suddenly, the wind calms. The rain stops. I can’t hear the hail against the leaves or falling against the ground.
“Fuck,” I hiss when a realization hits me.
“What? What is it? I can’t see anything other than your ass.”
“Like that’s a bad thing. I have a great ass,” I say, trying to keep things light as I run away from the tornado.
Silence.
Even nature speaks the loudest when it’s quiet.
I burst through the other side of the woods, and my feet dig into the rocks to stabilize us as we try to get to the top.
“I’ve seen better asses,” she grumbles, and I know she’s joking.
She better be joking.
I don’t like the idea of her looking at another man, even if I can’t stand her.
I want to be the only man she stares at in anger, frustration, annoyance, and love.
Love. Let’s not get crazy. Let’s start with like.
“Will you shut up? I’m trying to save our lives.”
“You’re doing a heck of a job.”
The sarcasm. I want to spank her ass. “Yeah, I don’t see you doing anything, fire toes,” I say, digging my feet into the mud as I start to climb. My boots slide, unable to maintain a decent grip.
“Well, put me down, and I’ll show you what I can do.”
Yeah, I’m not stupid. She’s going to punch me across the face. I ignore her because I have better things to do, like trying to find us shelter in two minutes before we are sucked up in a funnel. When I’m high enough up the mountain, I look over the desert to see the small bonfire created by my motorcycle just as the funnel touches the ground. It’s slow-moving, barely spinning, but the funnel itself is growing.
I set Mary down and spin her around, pointing to the tornado. “Do you see that? Do you see why I’m trying to get us the hell out of here now? If you want to help, help look for a place to hide.”
“Oh my god. I’ve never seen a tornado before,” she whispers, her face losing all amounts of color.
“We are going to be fine,” I say, wanting to give her hope. Desert storms are intense, sometimes quick, and come out of nowhere. Just like this one. A few miles away, I can see blue skies, but right now, that beautiful blue color is hidden by darkness. “Come on, let’s go around.” I take her hand in mine again and pull her toward the direction I want to go in. I’m keeping my eyes on our surroundings while also trying to keep an eye on the tornado. It’s inching down the road, but tornados have a mind of their own. Any moment, they can change direction and shift.
When I get to the other side of the mountain, I let out a breath of relief when I see a farm about a half-mile ahead. I’d rather be in a barn than be out here in the open. “Okay, up ya go,” I tell her as I swing her into my arms again.
She squeals, and her arms hook around my neck. This time, I’m carrying her like I would my bride, and something about holding her that way feels right. It’s difficult to run down an incline with her in my arms, but I’d rather be in control and know she’s safe than wonder if she is able to keep up.
Plus, her boots are still smoking. I bet her feet are hot, and the skin is sensitive.
My leg twinges where I got shot a few months back, and my knee buckles, slamming against a very well-placed rock. I groan, grinding my teeth together as pain shoots up my thigh.
“Are you okay? I can walk—” she says, placing a hand against my cheek.
“No, it’s okay. It’s the gunshot wound. I thought I was healed for the most part, but this incline sucks.” I find myself leaning against her hand for a split second before I push myself back to my feet.
Mary buries her head in my chest as the rain starts to pour again. The wind gusts, sending water and sand against us in a whirlwind of fury. Alarms ring throughout the city, which tells everyone to take cover because a tornado has been spotted.
When we get to the fence, I lift her over the wooden post, exhausted, cold, drenched in sweat and mud. I place
her down on the ground and hop over in one leap, then pick her up again. If I was that scrawny kid I used to be, I wouldn’t be able to do this.
This is why I refuse to be weak. I wouldn’t be able to protect the people I care about.
I run toward the rundown barn, and now when I see it, it isn’t a farm, but an abandoned building. When we get to the barn door, the wood is nearly rotten, the lock rusted, but it’s the best we have right now.
Right as I try to open the door, the wind decides to push against me. I lift my head to see the swirling of clouds, the rain blinding me, and I grunt, digging my feet in the sand. I would run over a damn mountain to escape a tornado just to have another one form on this side too, but I won’t let this fucking storm beat me. I refuse to be defeated again.
I won’t let any situation get the best of me.
Mary grips the edge and puts her back into it. With her help, we open the door, and I’m surprised. I didn’t expect her to help me.
“Why are you standing out there? Get in here, you fucking mad man,” she grips me by my shirt and yanks me inside where it’s nice and dry.
I turn around, hiding the shock on my face, and close the door, sliding the wooden slab across the width to lock it in place. The inside is spacious, but there is hay and a few old saddle blankets for horses. I survey the room, looking for anything else we can use when I see a section of the barn where there is a white tarp covering something.
“Stay away from sharp objects.”
“So I should stay away from you, since you always carry sharp objects, right?”
I don’t say anything because I don’t have the energy to argue with her or bitch about semantics. She knows what I mean.
The tin roof dings with the hail and rain pounding against it. The old bones of the barn shake from the wind, and Mary wraps her arms around herself. She’s scared. I don’t blame her. Storms like this aren’t fun.
Before I walk over to the white tarp, I tilt her chin up with my finger, doing everything I can not to kiss her. Kissing her is a bad idea. Things turn to shit when our lips meet, and if that isn’t a sign to stay away from her, I don’t know what is.
