Maya (Book #3)

Chapter 5

Riding on the back of the motorcycle at night was a completely different experience. The street lamps and traffic lights were brilliant in color and dazzling through the shield of my helmet. The smells were amplified, and the roads were empty, almost like the town had been abandoned. We flew on curving roads way beyond the speed limit, but Dominic took the turns slowly, somehow knowing that they worried me.

He stopped at the side of a country road briefly and asked me how I was doing. He even turned the engine off so he could hear me.

I wanted to say I had thought about everything and realized I would be okay, but that wouldn't be true.

"I'm still thinking about it," I told him truthfully.

"I know," He said. "That's okay."

"Thanks for your permission," I snapped meanly, letting go of his sides as we were no longer in motion.

"That's not what I meant," he said, trying to explain himself.

"Whatever," I said. I hated the girl I was acting like. I knew I was trying to incite violence. I wanted him to hurt me because I wanted anyone to hurt me, and he was here.

He got off the bike and propped it up, giving me a knowing look.

"What?" I asked acerbically.

"You want me to fight you, but you know I'm not going to." He said calmly, shaking his head. He pulled off his helmet and shook out his hair, blowing it out of his face.

"Then I'll find someone else!" I said confidently, pushing the shield of my helmet off.

"No, you won't. Because I'd kill them." He replied.

The anger was starting to seep from me, making me realize how childish I sounded.

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling foolish. I pulled my helmet off and held it under one arm as I got off the bike and sat on the ground. He sat beside me, and we listened to the crickets chirp around us.

"I'm glad you're letting it out."

"I'm not. I hate this girl. I'm not her. So why is she in me?" I demanded, pressing my hands to the dirt around me and clawing marks in it. I wanted to claw at my face but I figured that wasn't socially acceptable.

"It's not you. It's the result of what he did."

"What did he do?" I taunted, voice rising in anger. "What did he do besides prove that I am worthless and weak and incapable?"

"You are none of those things, Maya. He is all of those things. Don't let his story become yours." He said wisely, wrapping his arm around one of his legs as he shifted. He rested his chin on his knee and looked out at the moon and the barely visible stars.

"His story is mine. He made it mine. He broke me." I said honestly. Tears came to my eyes and began coursing down my cheeks, proving that the feelings had always been there. He looked at me and didn't comment on the crying for which I was grateful. It was humiliating to sob in front of a man made of stone.

"The abuse that took place is his fault, and his alone. He chose to hurt you and that is his story. You chose to heal and love others. You are the survivor... you are all the times you stood up and kept going. You're not your trauma. You're Maya." He finished, breathing rapidly as the anger consumed him as well. He turned to me and cracked a smile when he saw my tiny one.

We stood up after a moment of silence and got back on the bike. My eyelids drooped as I started to get sleepy but I clutched onto him tightly so I wouldn't fall.

When we got home, we pulled into an open spot and parked, turning off the bike as quickly as we could. We unlocked the door and went in before locking it tightly behind us. He looked down at me and could tell I was tired immediately.

"You ready to sleep?" he asked, leading me up to my room.

"I think so," I said, yawning hugely. We both laughed in the quiet and I went into my room, changing quickly before jumping into bed. I curled up and wrapped the large comforter over me, tucking it against my back so I could tell something was there. Just as the sun began to peek out, I drifted off to sleep.