Kidnapped Love

Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

The pulsating music from the dance hall faded into the night, replaced by the distant hum of traffic and the occasional laughter of couples drifting away. My steps were uneven as I navigated the minefield of cracks and pebbles in my high heels, the cool night air wrapping around us like a shawl. The darkness seemed to cling to the edges of the parking lot, encroaching upon the lonely lampposts that fought back with their sallow light.

"Careful," He murmured just as my ankle gave a treacherous wobble, a betrayal by the stilettos that had seemed such a good idea hours earlier. His hands were quick and sure, steadying me with an ease that spoke of strength and an unexpected gentleness. When his hand found mine, it felt like a lifeline, solid and warm against the chill. "Got you," he said, and something about the way he looked at me made the butterflies in my stomach perform an erratic ballet.

"Thanks," I whispered, trying to ignore the tingling sensation where his fingers laced through mine.

We reached the last row of the parking lot; a sea of vehicles stood guard under the pale wash of the fluorescent lights, except for one space that cradled nothing but shadows and the sleek silhouette of a black motorcycle. He released my hand only to stride towards it, confidence rolling off him in waves. Picking up the helmet that rested on the leather seat, he turned back to me, his eyes searching mine.

"Ever been on one?" He asked, a playful edge to his voice.

"Never, but my house is a bit far from here. I don't want you to take me all the way home on this." I admitted, the word barely more than a breath lost in the vastness of the night. A thrill coursed through me at the thought, the unknown mingling with the promise of adventure. Apart from the adventure of it all, my mother would have a heart attack if I rolled into the driveway, not only with a stranger but on a strangers motorcycle.

"We can go to my place—it's only a few minutes from here. Then your ride can pick you up there." His offer dangled before me, ripe with possibility.

I hesitated, the rational part of my brain flashing a warning sign. Yet the allure was too strong, the pull of the night, the bike, him—it all converged into a single point of yes.

"Okay. I will call my brother when we get to your place." I said.

He handed me the solid black helmet in his hands.

"This is the only one I have. You should wear it." He insisted. I didn't argue with that statement. I pressed the thick padded head guard over head and fiddled for a moment to try to find the buckle to tighten under my chin. Derek gave a smirk and reached his hands to buckle it himself, clearly feeling bad for my struggle.

"Thank you." I said softly.

"Sure thing," he said, already swinging a leg over the motorcycle with practiced ease.

I approached, the hem of my dress whispering secrets against my legs. With a careful maneuver, I propped up the fabric—just enough to avoid the greedy grasp of the tires—and swung my other leg over the seat. The metal beneath me was colder than I expected, yet somehow thrilling. I tried to find a comfortable position but nothing was comfortable about this at the moment. Instinctively my hands wrapped around Dereks abdomen but my feet had trouble finding a home.

"Where do I put my feet?" I asked, trying to look through the glare of the eye shield. He turned around and positioned my feet on small pegs that were in the center of the tires.

"Ready?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"Ready," I echoed, a smile hiding in my voice, and wrapped my arms tentatively around his waist. The engine roared to life beneath us, a beast awakened, and as we pulled out of the parking lot, I could feel every line of tension in my body melt away, carried off by the wind that rushed past us, whispering of freedom and the start of something new.