Chapter 6 Breakdown Of The Car

• Breakdown
• Harley Finley
• Colten laid in my bed, our naked bodies intertwined into a knotted mess with the blue comforter. His arm rested on top of my waist feeling like a fifty pound weight keeping me beside him.
• Everything ached. My stomach, my thighs, my ass.
• With every shimmy out of his grasp, I could feel the happenings of last night all over again. Every place he touched me was just a button to my next orgasm until we both passed out.
• It was the best sex filled night I've ever had.
• One I'll be thinking about every night I spend alone - at home.
• I rubbed my tired eyes and quietly got dressed, throwing on my jeans and sweater from yesterday.
• The house was quiet as I shuffled my way through, hoping not to bump into anyone on my escape to my car.
• It wasn't until I was on the one hundred mile road out of that wretched town that I felt a little more at peace but even then, the envelope in my pocket weighted me down. It yanked at me to read it before I went any further, screaming imaginary swears in my ear, cursing me out for ignoring what my father wrote before he even knew he was dying.
• If it wasn't for Colten fucking me senseless - again - there's no way I would have stayed the night in that memory capsule of a room.
• All I want to do is get home and lay in my own bed.
• Then grey smoke escaped from under my hood, clouding my vision to freedom with a thick smell of burnt rubber and the sound of gears grinding.
• I swear the universe hates me.
• Once pulled over, I released my anger, smashing the car wheel over and over until a few satisfactory harsh beeps exit the stupid vehicle.
• "Fucking amazing. A brand new fucking car and you just have to break down!" I yelled, slamming the driver side door and opening the hood roughly.
• I cough and wave my hand into the lung filling smoke with annoyance, looking for what could possibly be wrong.
• Great.
• I take out my phone and ring Elijah, hoping he'd pick up.
• "Harley?" Elijah answered, without even a hello mind you. "What's wrong?"
• Well, you could tell I never call him.
• "I'm broken down outside of town." I sighed, rubbing my face roughly. God, I hate asking for help. Especially from an estranged family member.
• "How bad?" Elijah asked.
• "Bad. Undrivable." I went to try the ignition again but only received putters and the dreaded check engine light. "Definitely my motor."
• "Okay. I'll get a tow truck out there and bring it back to the shop. You're on Old Waterbury Road?"
• I bit my tongue. Of course I'm on Old Waterbury Road. It's the only road out of this stupid fucking town for miles.
• "Yes." I sighed, leaning back into my seat.
• "Okay, Rocco will be there. See you soon." Elijah hung up.
• God, why can't I just leave? First, I choose to stay to fuck my feelings away and now, my car has a say on where I should be going.
• It's like the town is a black hole, sucking me in by my ankles until I stop fighting back. But that's how it's always been.
• Leaving a small town is probably the hardest thing to do. It's comforting knowing everyone, every nook and cranny and having family by your side through it all. But it's also suffocating.
• Every little thing you do is whispered through ears like a game of telephone until it's twisted and contorted into an awful lie that people start to believe.
• I should have never came.
• Knock. Knock.
• My body sky rocketed into the passenger seat before realizing who was knocking on my window.
• "Colten, you fucking asshole." I snapped, getting out of the car and slamming the door.
• Colten smirked at me as I rushed up to him, pushing his chest slightly to make my point that he scared the shit out of me. Only earning a fit of chuckles from him at my poor excuse of trying to man handle him.
• "I heard a little angel had fallen and needed help." Colten spoke as he started to check out my car. His brownie eyes scanned the engine bay while he felt around. "Can you try to start it for me?"
• I got lost for a moment, watching his rough tattooed finger graze across the steaming hot metal unaffected. His eyes scrunched as if trying to solve a mystery. It took everything in me to stop drooling at him and jump into the drivers seat. I groaned as I tried to turn the key, only earning the same loud clunk and putter as before.
• "Yeah, I'm thinking a seized engine." Colten shook his head then closed the hood, wiping his dirty hands on his jeans. "Alright, come on."
• I stared at him with my eyes narrowed as he walked behind my car to an all black street bike.
• "No. Absolutely not." I shook my head, already heading back to my car.
• "Oh, come on. It's just a motorcycle." Colten smiled devilishly, patting the gas tank as if a wild beast he was ready to tame.
• I rolled my eyes. "I'm not stupid, Colten. It's not just a fucking motorcycle. It's a Ninja H2R. One of the fastest bikes on the market. I don't even know how you registered that thing in this town. It's a death trap. No thanks. I'll wait here for Rocco and ride in the tow truck."
• Colten laughed mockingly as he kicked his leg over the seat. "Have fun with Bricks and his gas."
• My gut twisted as I turned back to him. "He still has that fucking dog? He was on his death bed before I left!"
• Colten ignored me as he started up the bike, revving the gas with a wink.
• Fuck.
• I snatched the helmet from his hands before lifting my leg to sit behind him and throwing it over my head.
• "Is this bike even street legal?" I yelled over the ear splintering exhaust.
• "Don't worry, they can't catch us even if they tried." He smiled harder. "Hold on tight."
• I wrapped my arms around his body, feeling his muscular chest through his thin shirt with the pads of my fingers. My heart was pounding in my stomach when Colten sped off, the rear tire squealing against the pavement from the sudden take off.
• I stuffed my helmet cladded face into his back, holding his waist for my life, not able to watch the trees whizz past us any longer.
• I squeezed Colten tighter when he turned sharply, kicking his left foot out to stabilize us.
• My stomach churned at the thought of how fast we were going and how much faster we could go.
• But hearing the motor rumbling beneath us while the tires stayed glued to the road was something I missed. I found myself easing into the rhythmic purr of the metaled beast, finding comfort in the way it vibrated my body each time Colten pushed it to the limit, going over a hundred on a straight a way. My arms loosened around his stomach, gently feeling the way his abs flexed each time he leaned forward with a rev of the gas.
• My mind went back to my childhood. Remembering all those times my father would put me on his Fat Boy and let me steer while we cruised around the town. Then the day I bought a Yamaha Bolt from some random guy on the internet. That was the day we started building it up together. Father and daughter time was a thing because of the first motorcycle I bought myself. Though, I'd never hear the end of it, if he were still alive.
• 'I named you Harley for a reason. We drive American bikes!' I could still hear his gruffy voice huffing as he tugged at the JDM exhaust and flicked the handle bars like they were garbage.
• Those calm, meditative and happy thoughts were short lived when the sound of a police siren echoed the empty street behind us.
• Colten shook his head, causing his black wavy hair to fight the wind. One of his hands grasped mine, pressing it tighter against his stomach as a warning to hold on tight.
• So I did.
• I held him with all my strength as he sped away, the blue and red lights following us down the deserted roads.
• "Colten Gunn." One of the officers spoke sternly over the microphone. "Pull over, Colten."
• Colt's chest expanded with his laugh before he leaned forward with the bike, pushing it against the wind that whipped our bodies like multiple glass walls. Over and over the air smacked my jeaned legs, making it difficult to keep them raised on the small pedals.
• Once in town, Colten didn't even slow. Instead he sped in and out through the hustle and bustle of the small city town. Earning beeps from irritated drivers and an array of people screaming his name.
• This must be a regular occurrence for people to know who's causing all this mayhem.
• Eventually, with Colten's erratic and totally maniacal driving, the cop lights disappeared in the background and in the distance appeared the motorcycle shop I grew up in.
• The one my father owned and brought me to regularly and probably the only reason I was named Harley.
• I yanked the helmet off of my head and shoved it into Colten's chest after I jumped to solid ground.
• "You drive like an asshole." I complained, throwing my hair into a pony tail to tame the horrid hat head.
• Colten just smiled to me with such a cocky look as he pushed the bike into the shop. I stayed outside with my back against the run down siding that was once white but now was muddied up and falling off in certain places.
• With my arms crossed, I eyed the police car that was following us earlier pull into the drive way, only slowing when I came into view.