A Soul's Caress: Breathe

First Ride

"I'll give you a ride home." Bodie offered as he walked with Zayne out of the police station.

"No thanks. I'm fine."

"I wasn't really asking."

Zayne smiled weakly. After filling his stomach with what was probably the best cheesesteak he had ever had, his eyes were heavy with exhaustion. Legs that felt like jelly before were now barely holding him up but he still didn't want to impose.

"It's totally fine. I don't want to be a bother."

"Stop saying that," Bodie snapped gently. He watched Zayne's expression turn painfully apologetic and realized his words were sharper than he intended. Releasing the tension in his jaw, he softly added, "You're not a bother."

"But I'm sure you want to get home. It's been a long day. I can walk."

"Zayne, it's still 85 degrees outside. I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to walk home by yourself."

"I'll take a taxi then."

"There's a serial killer out there who wants to be friends with you. Do you really think I'm about to let you get into a cab? And no, you may not call an Uber or use any other form of public transportation. Not when I'm here to give you a ride home."

Clearly, the young and very obstinate detective was not going to take no for an answer, leaving Zayne no choice but to accept Bodie's offer.

"Fine. Where's your car?"

"Don't have one," Bodie answered playfully.

"You offered me a ride home but you don't have a car."

Bodie's grin was growing by the second. "That is correct! Damn! You're smarter than you look, Sketch."

Zayne's eyes rolled with annoyance, his steps slowing. The look on the detective's face told him he probably wasn't going to like the answer to his next question.

"Then what do you have?"

"Something better," Bodie replied, his smile so big he looked like a kid anxious to show off his new toy.

"Better?"

"Come on, follow me."

Just like he'd been doing since meeting Bodie, Zayne obediently followed the younger man. Part of him chalked it up to the fact that he was just too tired to argue. Yet something inside of him seemed to crave Bodie's dominating spirit. Every time the detective told him what to do in that deeply hypnotic voice of his, Zayne's mind easily succumbed to Bodie's command without question.

They walked slowly, the detective clearly mindful of the musician's tired steps, to the rear parking garage of the station. Once there, Zayne looked around, trying to figure out which vehicle was Bodie's. He said it wasn't a car. Could it be a truck? Somehow that didn't seem right. Trucks were rare in a city like Baltimore. They were too big to park and difficult to maneuver through the narrow streets, especially when construction restricted the lanes even more.

When Bodie disappeared behind one of the large pillars, Zayne's mind drew a complete blank. That is, until he turned the corner and saw what was tucked safely in the corner.

"A motorcycle? You want me to ride that?!"

"Why not? You've never ridden one?"

Zayne shook his head nervously. His eyes scanned the motorcycle from end to end. He had to admit the machine was quite beautiful. It had a mostly black body but the fuel tank, which had the maker's emblem on it, and other smaller sections were neon green. The same color combination was on the wheels, adding another level to the machine's sporty style. The bike was sleek and shiny and looked fast as hell. Even though it wasn't a very large bike, there was definitely a seat for a passenger.