8. Sage
Chapter eight
Sage
I feel Finn accelerate, the bike's engine roaring louder as we speed up. My heart races, knowing in my gut that Damien has found me. I tighten my grip around Finn's waist, pressing myself closer against his back. How did this man become so important to me so quickly? I push the thought aside, focusing on following Finn's movements so he can concentrate on driving.
Finn takes a sudden turn, one I noticed the other riders didn't make. I lean into it instinctively, trusting his judgment. We pull up behind a dilapidated service station, it's better days long past. Finn guides the bike behind the building, concealing it from the road. As he cuts the engine, the sudden silence feels heavy. He grabs my hand, pulling me next to him as we crouch behind the rusted hulk of an old car, our breathing loud in the stillness.
My breath catches as I hear the rumble of approaching motorcycles. Three bikes make the same turn we did, but they're several minutes behind. They seem about to stop at the service station when an old man emerges, shotgun in hand.
"I'll have no trouble here," he calls out gruffly. "If you need gas, go somewhere else."
They all wear helmets, but I'm certain one of them is Damien. My suspicions are confirmed when he makes a move towards our hiding spot. I can tell by the gait in his steps, the way his arms swing as he walks. His precise height, the casualness to it all. I loved Damien, and then I feared him. Because of that, I know I’ll never forget a thing about him. I press closer to Finn, my heart pounding so loudly I'm sure they'll hear it.
"Maybe you didn't hear me," the old man says, firing a warning shot into the air. The sound makes me flinch. "I'll have no trouble here. Now get back on the road. You missed the turn to Jackson."
Damien takes another step forward. The old man swings his shotgun around, aiming directly at Damien. "I won't miss," he warns, his voice steely. "So I suggest you not test me."
I hold my breath, silently willing Damien to leave. The tension in the air is palpable as we wait to see what he'll do next.
I tense as Damien's voice cuts through the air, loud and clear. "Let's go. She isn't going to be able to hide in this trash heap forever."
My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of fear and relief washing over me. He knows I'm here, but he's leaving. I feel Finn's hand squeeze mine reassuringly as we listen to the roar of motorcycles fading into the distance.
We stay hidden, barely breathing, for what feels like an eternity. Finally, the old man's gruff voice breaks the silence. "You're good. They ain't coming back."
Finn stands, and I follow suit, my legs shaky from crouching for so long. I brush dirt from my jeans, trying to calm my nerves.
"Didn't mean to cause trouble," Finn says, his voice apologetic but firm.
The old man grunts, "Didn't figure you did. Couldn't figure out what you were doing until I saw those three following you." He jerks his thumb in the direction the motorcycles left. "Them, they meant to cause trouble. I don't recommend following that group to Jackson."
I glance at Finn, seeing the same concern in his eyes that I feel. We can't go to Jackson now. Damien will be waiting.
"No, sir," Finn replies. "We'll go another way."
The old man nods approvingly. "Good. Get going. I want no more of that trouble following you, either."
I bite my lip, guilt washing over me. This kind stranger put himself at risk for us, and now he's sending us away to protect himself. It's a harsh reminder of the danger I've brought into Finn's life.
The man gives Finn a nod. "Silverclaw. Call your mama. She's worried about you," he says before turning and disappearing into his shop. The building looks abandoned, with no sign of business or customers.
I can't make sense of it. I stare at the door the man just walked through, bewildered by his parting words, before turning to Finn. "Do you know him?"
"No," Finn replies, his face unreadable. He looks tense, as if he's expecting me to interrogate him and find him wanting.
I have a million questions buzzing through my mind, but instead of grilling Finn, I do something reckless and impulsive. Fueled by adrenaline and gratefulness, I act on instinct.
Stepping closer to Finn, I reach up and pull him down toward me. His nearness sends a jolt through my body, and I rise on my tiptoes to press my lips against his.
At first, he hesitates, and my heart sinks, thinking I've misread the situation. But then his arms wrap around me, pulling me close, so close I can feel the desire in his body, mirroring my own.
Our kiss is passionate and intense, fueled by the danger we just escaped. I pour all my worry and relief into this moment, clinging to Finn like he's my lifeline. His taste, his touch, sends sparks through my body, and a warmth spreads through me I haven't felt in a long time.
I don't know how long we stay like that, tangled together in a forgotten junkyard, but eventually, we part, breathless. I rest my forehead against Finn's chest, my heart hammering in my chest.
"I—I'm sorry," I stammer, pulling away slightly. "I don't usually—"
He cuts me off with a gentle finger on my lips. "Don't be," he breathes, his eyes searching mine. "I wanted to kiss you, too."
My cheeks heat at his admission, and I wonder if he can feel my heart pounding against his chest.
He takes a step back, holding my gaze. "We should get going. We have a long ride ahead of us."
I nod, suddenly feeling shy. I follow him to the motorcycle, my thoughts whirling. What just happened? Was it a mistake? I bite my lip, unsure of how to interpret Finn's actions.
As I settle behind him on the bike, my body still buzzing from the kiss, I remind myself to focus on the present. Finn twists the throttle, and we speed off, the wind rushing through my hair. I have no idea where we're headed, but for now, I'm content to hold on tight to Finn and enjoy this moment of peace.