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Loco's Last

Page 50

by Chelsea Camaron

He got up from the bar stool and walked away, leaving the words hanging in the air like smoke.

They plagued me.For eight more days.

Every mile I rode, every night I lay awake staring at the ceiling, every time my phone buzzed and it wasn’t her—I heard Tower’s voice.You had a taste of something you wanted.

He was right.

I had sworn I’d never go back to that city.Never put myself in a position where the ghosts could find me again.DC held too many memories.Too much blood.Too many versions of me I’d buried on purpose.

But it also held her.And apparently that was a temptation I couldn’t resist.

A few days later, I woke before dawn with the decision already made.No debate.No overthinking.Pure adrenaline, need, and reaction.

I pulled on my jeans, my boots, my jacket.Checked the bike like I always did—muscle memory, steady hands.The engine roared to life under me, familiar and grounding.

As I rolled out onto the open road, the sky just starting to lighten, I felt something shift in my chest.

Fear, maybe.

Hope, definitely.

I didn’t know if she would answer the door.I didn’t know if she would tell me to leave.I didn’t know if I was about to make a fool of myself at an age where men liked to pretend they were past that.I didn’t know much of anything.But I knew one thing with absolute clarity.

For her, it was worth it.

Worth the miles.Worth the risk.Worth breaking a promise I had made to myself a long time ago.

The city rose on the horizon hours later, steel and stone and memories.

I didn’t slow.

Not this time.

Her building looked different in daylight.

Cleaner.Sharper.Less forgiving.

I killed the engine at the curb and sat there for a second longer than necessary, hands resting on the grips, helmet still on.The city hummed around me—sirens somewhere far off, traffic breathing in fits and starts, the low, constant pulse of a place that never truly slept.

I swore I would never come back here.

I pulled off the helmet.

That vow felt flimsy now.Like something made in a different lifetime by a man who hadn’t known yet what it felt like to wake up empty and realize the only thing he could still taste was her mouth.

I took the stairs two at a time.Didn’t give myself time to think, to back out.Her door stared back at me like it already knew why I was there.

I knocked.

Once.

Firm.

Footsteps.A pause.Locks disengaging.Then the door opened.

Shock flared across her face so fast she didn’t have time to hide it.

“Dante?”she breathed.