Bad Boy Brody(68)

“Do you talk to Morgan regularly?” Some guy was recording this. He got in front of the bike. “Was it love at first sight?”

“Move!” I barked out, turning the engine on.

He didn’t, but I started edging out. When I was two feet from hitting him, he finally moved.

The cameras were still rolling. The flashes kept going. So did the questions. They were talking to me as if they knew me, as if I were their best friend, as if they knew who Morgan was. They knew nothing, and I leaned forward, zooming down the street.

Cheryl had her hands tight around my waist, but I wasn’t thinking of my sister-in-law or even my brother.

I understood Morgan in that moment, when she would kick Shiloh into a dead sprint.

She was racing away from the world.





Cheryl was quiet when I pulled up to her parents’ house. She climbed off, handing me the helmet. I thought she’d go in right away, and I moved to start the bike again, but she didn’t. She half-hugged herself with one arm and tilted her head to the side.

“I stopped watching television after Kyle died, because . . . well, you know.” She glanced at her house, tugging on her scarf. “When you left for that movie, it faded away and my mom told me I could start watching television again. It was on EGossip Tonight. It’s on all the blog sites too.”

There it was again. Morgan and me.

I started to feel the same irritation I felt with anyone trying to pry into my business, it was gut instinct. But this was Cheryl. She had no angle. She just cared.

I forced my hands off the handles but kept them in my lap.

Cheryl could take an hour or two or three to say whatever she wanted. I would wait.

“I know how you hate being told your own gossip.” A fleeting smile flared and vanished behind a cough. “I just wanted to let you know that if you wanted to talk, I’m here if you need me too.”

“Thank you.”

She was studying my face and laughing a bit nervously. “And I can tell you don’t want to talk about her at all.” She gestured to me. “I forget sometimes how much you and Kyle look alike. He always got the same expression.” She quieted and then gestured behind her. “I should head in.” She started to edge backward, stopping halfway to her door to say, “I mean it, Brody. If you need something, I’m here. I really am.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Cheryl.”

She gave me a small wave before unlocking the door and ducking inside.

I got back on my bike and raced away feeling something fixed inside me, and because I was missing my woman, I imagined her running next to me on Shiloh.





Morgan



From where I was lying on the rock, I could hear the engine of a motorcycle driving along the road beneath me.

One, no—two.

Wait.

More engines sounded.

I rolled over and saw a whole train of motorcycles weaving through the mountains.

I was high enough that I doubted they could see me, but I recognized that these guys came through the mountains once a year. I rolled over and propped my head up, resting my chin on my hands.

I counted thirty before there was a small break and another group sped into view.

I swung my legs around so they were hanging off the edge and sat there comfortably perched. The wind rose and slid across the back of my neck, picking my hair up. When an eagle flew below me, a thrill skittered over me.

Halfway across the nation was Brody. He’d be in his home or some building surrounded by similar houses or other buildings. I didn’t understand it, but I knew people enjoyed city living. They enjoyed living near other people.

Other people brought problems.

They brought hurts and aches and eternal sadness.

I tipped my head back and drank in the mountain air.

A movement caught my attention, and I looked down.

The motorcycles had pulled over. People were running on the street, some running in the middle of the road even. Then a few began waving their arms in the air.

I frowned, looking farther down the road, but there was nothing there. Reactions like this usually meant they saw a moose or bear. But no, the herd would’ve sensed another animal like that. And the horses were hidden from the road, so it wasn’t that.

I stood, walking closer to the edge. Maybe I wasn’t seeing the animal, but they began waving their arms faster and more franticly.

They were waving to me.

I cocked my head to the side, and it clicked. They thought I was going to jump.

Oh!

I shook my head and waved as I backed away. I didn’t want to attract attention. They would break off from the road and start through the woods. They’d get hurt or lost. I had to leave before they did any of that, but as I climbed back down to where the herd was, I heard their shouting. It was growing. I heard tree branches breaking.

They had moved into the woods.

The stallion’s head lifted, but there was no decision to be made. He began off, and the rest of the herd slowly followed. A few mares had foaled late, so the small colts were jumping all around. One saw me and started to charge. He was only a day old, so his feet folded underneath him and his head took a nosedive.

I just laughed, stepping over him and walking to meet Shiloh. She was already coming over to meet me. Shoal was right next to her, and after I climbed up on Shiloh, she started toward rest of the herd.