Chapter Five
Rip
The storage room smelled like fabric softener.
I stood in the doorway for a moment, watching Jade fold a stack of donated T-shirts into neat piles on a metal shelf.
There was care in how she smoothed each garment before setting it aside.
She hadn’t noticed me yet. Her hair fell across her face as she bent to a cardboard box, and she tucked it behind her ear with a practiced motion.
I cleared my throat softly, not wanting to startle her.
She flinched anyway, her hands freezing on a faded blue sweatshirt.
Recognition crossed her face a second later, followed by that forced calm she put on like armor.
“Sorry,” I said, though I’d made noise on purpose. “Didn’t mean to sneak up.”
“It’s fine.” She smiled, resuming her task. “Did you need something?”
I hadn’t planned this out. Just found myself walking here after my shift ended, some half-formed idea pushing me forward. “Want to get out of here for a bit?”
She stilled again. I’d surprised her. “Out?”
“Of Haven. Just for a little while.” I gestured vaguely toward the hall, the exit, the world beyond. “Thought you might want some air. We won’t go far.”
Jade set the sweatshirt down carefully, like she needed the extra seconds to think. Her forehead creased. I could practically see the internal argument playing out.
“I don’t know.” Her voice was quiet but steady. “Where would we go?”
“Nowhere special. Just down by the water. It’s quiet there.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear again, and I fought the urge to reach out and do it for her. That wasn’t my place. Might never be.
“You can say no,” I added. “Just thought you might like a change of scenery.”
She looked at the stack of clothes, the dim storage room, the single window high up on the wall that let in a shaft of late afternoon light. Then back at me with a small smile. “OK,” she said, like she was surprising herself. “Yes. I’d like that.”
I waited while she finished the sweatshirt she’d been holding, placing it on the stack. “I need to let Hannah know I’m leaving.” She pulled out her phone, probably to shoot off a text to Hannah.
“I told Knuckles,” I said. “He’ll let Hannah know.
” Knuckles had given me shit about it too, but in a way that meant he approved.
Called me a “soft bastard” and told me to be back before curfew, like I was sixteen instead of thirty-five.
“I told him we’d be gone a couple hours, if you agreed. Like I said. We won’t go far.”
She gave me a shy smile and nodded. “Thanks. A small respite sounds nice.”
We walked out together, not close enough to touch, but close enough I could smell her sweet scent.
The longer I watched this woman, the more intrigued I became.
She had a sharp intelligence she tried hard to diminish and a strong work ethic.
In the short time I’d been observing her, she seemed to have a tender heart and genuinely wanted to help people.
As evidenced by her sticking in there with Mia, teaching GED classes and rambunctious kids.
No doubt Mia would prefer not to be reminded of one of her worst days.
Jade had to be uncomfortable as hell too, but she did everything anyone asked of her without complaint.
The more I watched, the more drawn to her I became.
I led her to my motorcycle, which I’d parked behind the building. The gleaming black paint job sparkled in the late afternoon sun. The Kiss of Death insignia was painted on the gas tank in matte black with just enough gloss to catch the light when you looked at it right.
Jade stopped a few feet away from it, uncertainty crossing her face.
“Ever been on one?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No, Rip.”
“It’s not complicated. You put your feet here” -- I pointed to the foot pegs -- “and just hold on.” I reached for the spare helmet I’d brought and held it out to her. “If you decide you hate it or don’t feel safe, we’ll come right back.”
She took the helmet, turning it over in her hands like she was weighing more than just its physical heft. “OK,” she said finally.
I showed her how to secure the strap, resisting the urge to do it for her. She needed to do things herself. I understood that too. I also didn’t want her to see me as a creeper who couldn’t keep his hands off her. Even if that’s exactly how one could describe me.
I swung my leg over the seat and started the engine, feeling the familiar rumble vibrate through my body.
Jade hesitated for just a moment before climbing on behind me, her movements careful and deliberate.
I felt her settle onto the seat, the slight shift as she tried to figure out where to put her hands.
“Around my waist,” I called out over my shoulder over the deep rumble of the machine. “You’ll want to hold on. Don’t move your feet from the pegs. The pipes are hot.”
Her arms came around me tentatively at first, barely touching. But when I rolled the throttle and the bike lurched forward, she tightened her grip instinctively. I felt her chest press against my back as we pulled out of Haven’s lot and onto the street.
The afternoon air hit us as we picked up speed.
Nashville’s warehouse district rolled by in a blur of brick and concrete.
I kept the speed moderate, aware of Jade’s first-time nerves.
After a few minutes, I felt her relax slightly, her death grip around my waist easing to something more comfortable for both of us.
I took the route along the industrial edge of the Cumberland River, where the old shipping warehouses were slowly turning into overpriced lofts and craft breweries. We continued to a small pier just off the main drag but still fairly close to the road.
I slowed and pulled into a small parking area beside a wooden wharf that jutted out over the water. The engine cut off, and suddenly the world was quiet except for the gentle lapping of water against wood pilings and the distant hum of a boat motor somewhere downriver.
“You OK?” I asked as Jade unwrapped her arms from around me.
She nodded, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she removed the helmet. Her hair was flattened on one side, wild on the other. “That was…” She paused, searching for the word. “Freeing.”
I smiled back. “Yeah. That’s why we all ride.”
We walked out onto the wharf, our shoes thudding against the weathered planks. At the end of the pier, we sat, our legs dangling above the murky water. For a while, we just sat in silence.
“Thanks,” Jade said finally. “For bringing me here.”
I nodded. “Need to get out myself sometimes.”
“How’d you find this place?” she asked.
“My grandfather used to take me fishing here when I was a kid. Before everything went to shit.” I didn’t elaborate on what “everything” meant. She didn’t ask.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been fishing,” she said.
“It’s boring as hell most of the time. But that’s kind of the point.”
She smiled. A real one this time that lit up her whole face. “What’s your favorite food?” she asked suddenly.
The question caught me off guard with its normalcy. When was the last time anyone had asked me something so simple? “Rare steak,” I answered. “And good whiskey, if that counts as food.”
“It doesn’t,” she said, but she was still smiling. “I’ll allow it, though.”
“What about you?”
“Peanut butter and jelly. No question.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“I’m full of surprises.” There was a hint of the woman she must have been before. Playful, confident. It vanished pretty quick, but I’d glimpsed that brief transformation and wanted to see it again. Permanently.
“Music?” I asked, keeping the conversation in safe territory.
“All kinds. Sometimes classical when I need to think. Rammstein when I want to hit something. Country. Grunge. You?”
“Classic rock. Zeppelin. The Stones.”
She laughed softly. “The basics.”
I shrugged. “Simple tastes.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“Hobbies?” I wanted to keep her talking as long as she would.
She looked out over the water, swinging her legs gently. She looked like she weighed whether or not to answer. “When I was in high school, I loved to take pictures. I spent my weekends wandering around with an old camera, trying to capture things nobody else noticed.”
“You still take pictures?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Not for a long time. Eric…” She stopped herself, ducking her head and tucking her hair behind her ear. I decided that was a tell when she was uncomfortable. “I haven’t had a camera in years.”
I nodded, letting the mention of Eric’s name pass without comment. “Club could use someone to photograph the bikes in the custom shop Tiny’s getting started,” I said casually. “Knight’s shit at it. Everything comes out blurry and I’m pretty sure he does it on purpose.”
She looked at me sideways. “Are you offering me a job?”
“Just throwing it out there.” I shrugged. “You know. If you’re interested.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Maybe,” she said finally. “I’d have to see if I still remember how.”
“Like riding a bike, I bet.”
“Or a motorcycle?” A small smile played at her lips again and my heart clenched.
“Exactly.”
Our shoulders brushed occasionally as we sat there. Each time, I expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. The sun began to sink toward the horizon, casting an orange glow across the water that turned the muddy brown into something almost beautiful.
I glanced over and caught Jade looking at the sunset with an expression I hadn’t seen on her face before. She looked almost peaceful. Her profile outlined in gold light, she looked like someone remembering who she used to be.
“Penny for your thoughts,” I said, immediately regretting the cliché.
But Jade didn’t seem to mind. “I was just thinking…” She took a deep breath. “This is the first time in months I’ve felt like myself. Maybe longer than that. Not someone’s punching bag or sex toy. Not a victim or someone’s betrayer or… damaged goods. Just Jade.”
The simplicity of it hit me hard. How basic and yet impossible that feeling must have seemed to her until now. “Good,” was all I could manage to say.
The current pushed gently at the wooden posts beneath us, water flowing endlessly away from here. Away from the pain and heartache. Of terror and violence. We sat side by side in the fading light, just two people watching a sunset, pretending for a little while that was all we needed to be.