Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
The sleek machine rested under its canvas cover, looking dejected in the middle of neatly organised shelves of tools and offcuts. I’d bought the motorbike the day I graduated. It’d been half a dare, half a rebellion.
I’d pledged my life to saving all those in need of saving, yet the weight of that pledge? It crushed me with responsibility. It’d driven me into rocky territory that made me test the boundaries of my own life. After a long day in surgery or an awful afternoon of losing a patient, revving my bike and zooming like a reckless idiot was the perfect antidote to the uber conservative, overly safe doctor in my waking life.
Yanking the cover off the bike, I ran my fingers over the chrome handlebars and inhaled the rich scent of metal and oil.
I hadn’t ridden it in over three years.
Most days, when I drove home from the hospital, I could barely see straight from exhaustion. I’d also seen enough motorcycle accidents that the kamikaze asshole inside me was quite content to drive a safe Chrysler these days.
But for the first time in a while, the urge to fly through the night made me ache for freedom. Freedom to have a life, make mistakes, and not let down thousands of people by being human.
Dammit, enough already.
Sucking in a deep breath, I found my helmet and the half balaclava waiting where I’d placed them last. The white print of a skull’s jaw on the black material looked a bit ghoulish in the glow of my torch. It would probably petrify her if she woke up.
Ah well, better than nothing.
Shoving the fabric over my head, I yanked it up until it covered just below my eyes then fisted the blanket and sneaked through the palings between our back gardens.
They creaked a little, but Sailor didn’t move.
She didn’t stir as I crept across the stepping stones and over the springy grass. She mumbled a little as I draped the blanket over her then sighed as I stole a cushion from the reading chair in the little pagoda in the west corner and tucked it beneath her head.
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have broken my vow not to go near her.
But…I couldn’t help it.
The shadows under her eyes spoke of her exhaustion.
The pinched sorrow in her face.
How many sleepless nights had she suffered to pass out this hard?
Was it the memories keeping her up or the nightmares?
I made a mental note to ask her next time she messaged me as X.
Next time?
I balled my hands and returned to the shadows.
Do you hear yourself?
There shouldn’t be a next time. This time was dangerous enough.
I knew I should stop.
I knew I should march over to her house tomorrow and tell her it was me all along. I needed to confess that I was lying through my teeth all while saying I’d always be truthful. I couldn’t have her tell me anything too personal as X because when she found out it was me, the betrayal she’d feel would be catastrophic.
Damn, this is a mess.
With my chest too tight and nerves too stretched, I went to stand by the palings so I could sneak out quickly if she woke.
And that was where I stood as the stars slowly faded and the sky lazily lightened and dawn brought a new day.
* * * * *
Lori: How old are you?
I smirked at the message that was waiting for me when I finally had time to check my phone after a long morning in surgery two days later.
I’d let my guilt fester and argued with myself each time I glanced at her from my windows. At least I’d had enough self-control not to give in to the temptation of messaging her.
I still couldn’t shake the fact that every time we spoke, I was betraying her.
But…I’d also given myself a get-out-of-jail free card.
I could message her if she messaged me.
If she reached out then—in my twisted logic—she’d accepted me as X and Zander, even if she didn’t know it.
Plus, I said I’d watch out for her, so I owed her a reply just in case she needed me.
Remember your other rule?
I sagged a little in my chair.
Seeing as I did better with rules, I’d drawn up a tight little contract for myself.
I could message her whenever she messaged me, but I couldn’t instigate. And I was allowed to keep this going for one month. After one month, if she was no better, it proved I sucked as a counsellor, and she needed to see a professional. That would also be the day I confessed it was me.
Sipping my coffee, I adjusted my glasses and replied.
Me: I’m one hundred and two but don’t worry, I can still beat up anyone who dares go near you uninvited.
Putting my phone down, I went to the communal fridge to grab the leftover pasta I’d made last night. It wasn’t often I cooked but Sailor had groceries delivered again yesterday, and a pottle of spaghetti sauce had fallen out as she’d collected the bags while I’d gathered my mail.