Revved Up Soul

Chapter 8

Jasmine

As the rain poured down with an uncaring assault, her cab on the way; Jasmine's heart jumped into her throat when she saw him across the street. He was standing beneath the canopy of the bar, trying to light his cigarette. Her yellow umbrella strained beneath the downpour, and she noticed his difficulty in standing, having to lean against the wall to balance his person.

Luke, Jasmine pined, a nervousness and anxiety curling against her stomach. No, she reminded. He wants you to stay away – he doesn't see you, you should just go. But maybe you should say something? What if he gets hurt? Surely he wouldn't be stupid enough to try and ride home like that.

Her body locked in its place and the world seemed heavier when their eyes met.

Luke stopped trying to light his cigarette, standing there as the winds kicked up the rain against his person. He was practically soaked now.

The two waited in silence, save for the rain.

Flicking his cigarette with his middle and index finger, the man she at one time knew wobbled his way to his bike – she hadn't even recognized the steed.

Oh you idiot, what the hell are you thinking?!

Jasmine leapt into the street blindly, holding tight her umbrella and taking long, quick strides; her shoes stomping against a puddle of water.

A horn blared, punching the dreary sky.

She whipped her head around to see the car barreling towards her, a screeching noise piercing her ears – her heart pumped in her chest and her head lighting up with fear. For that wink of time, things seemed more fluid, like everything around her had a rhythm to it.

Jumping out of the way she landed hard against the pavement, body partially landing on the opposite lane – the car swerving tight to avoid her, it's horn blaring as it sped away.

Luke either hadn't noticed or didn't care, he fumbled to get the key inside of its slot.

Jasmine bit down hard on her tongue, trying to ignore the pain – she only briefly examined her elbow. It was marked with a long red patch of torn skin that burned in agony, the rain only served to agitate the wound more. She quickly got to her feet and dashed to Luke.

He turned his head to face her, the rain rolling down his face, his eyes bloodshot.

Jasmine threw her umbrella down and wrapped her arms around him as tight as she could, desperately trying to pull him away from his motorcycle. "Come on you idiot!" She grunted, heaving against his weight to no avail. Her dress was soaked now, nipples outlined.

Wriggling against her touch, Luke mumbled an incoherent mix of words, groaning and struggling against her. "Get off!"

"No!" Jasmine redoubled her efforts, she couldn't even feel the pain on her elbow anymore – no, all she could feel was the pain of letting him get himself killed. She couldn't bear the thought, couldn't live with herself if she didn't do something. Jasmine didn't care how much he protested, or how much he hated her.

She still hated herself.

Luke collapsed to the side, taking Jasmine with her and landing clumsily on her person.

Jasmine huffed and started to push him off of her, to the best of her ability – the weight of the man practically suffocating her as the rain made things even more difficult. Her heart hammering, and a maelstrom of emotions swirling within her breast, Jasmine looked into Luke's eyes as he went to his knees; that's not just rain, she realized.

Without warning she felt the stinging kiss of tears welling up in her eyes

"I miss him so much," he sobbed, nearly collapsing back on top of Jasmine again, his drenched hair sticking against his head. "I-I should have been there," he said, seemingly having an epiphany. "If I'd just been there, Jas," he begged, as though she could turn back the wheel and place him there herself.

She reached a hand up to his face and found her legs, holding him and giving all that she had. "I know," she assured, petting the hair on his head with her other hand, searching his eyes with her own.

I wish I could take away all your pain. "I'll get you home," she promised.

Jasmine pulled the man against her, letting him rest his head against her thigh – soothing him as best she could beneath the weeping sky.