A Low Blue Flame

by A. J. Downey

  “Huh, all right then. What about the rest of it?”

  “Veronica said she had it handled and to stop stressing. When Veronica says she’s got it, I believe her.”

  “Excited to see her?”

  “Very,” she said, wrinkling her nose in her cute and impish way. I handed her my spare helmet and she put it on.

  “Well, then get on, let’s get going.” I said when she had it on and had dropped her arms to her sides, giving a shrug.

  She was a good girl but she did the bad look really, really nicely. The denim of her jeans molded to the curve of her ass, which was outlined by the chaps she’d bought for the ride. The jacket she’d bought was tasteful and elegant, your typical biker fare, but thankfully with none of that stupid fringe that somehow had managed to become popular. What I liked about hers was that she’d chosen one with big rose blooms embroidered in red with bright- and dark-green leaves and vines. The majority of them ran across her shoulders and down her sleeves.

  She settled onto the seat behind me and her arms curved around my waist. I started up the bike, which was way loud under the overhang over the curved drive of her building. Even a couple of the valets jumped. I grinned, couldn’t help it. It was that little-boy rush, most people would call it compensating for something, but I can assure you, I had no complaints in that department. For myself, I tended to call it ‘mechanical masturbation,’ which tended to get a few laughs.

  I let out the clutch and twisted the throttle gently and moved us smoothly around the bend and to the mouth of the drive. I paused there, hit the signal with my thumb, waited, and pulled into traffic, all but glowing with the pleasure of having a lush, beautiful woman pressed to my back, trusting me to keep her safe.

  It was going to be a long fucking ride for someone who wasn’t used to it. The GPS said something like three hours and forty minutes. If I were going straight through, it’d be like four to four and a half hours, taking into account a stop for a bathroom break here or there. With Lil, I wanted to stop often enough for her to stretch and walk around some. I figured we could stop for lunch in Philly somewhere and get a good cheesesteak.

  “Oh, good!” she called out. “We’re taking the bridge!”

  “Been on it before?” I called back.

  “Once, when I first arrived in Indigo City; had to cross it to get to it from BWI.”

  “Whole different experience on the back of the bike,” I shouted back and slowed just a bit to let her savor it.

  She held onto me tighter and her smile in the side view mirror was everything. I was beginning to live for that smile. In the last three or four weeks, Lil had become the last thing I thought about before sleeping and the very first thing on my mind every morning when I woke up. It was intense, and I remembered a time it had been that way with Tori, back in the beginning, but was sad to realize it hadn’t been that way with her in a real long time. I almost felt like I had wasted so much time with her which was a sad deal, but I vowed that things would definitely be different with Lil if I ever got the chance to get behind the careful wall that she’d built around herself from being so hurt.

  I understood that wall. I had one of my very own, but she’d somehow plucked a brick out of it and had peeked in with those storm-swept blue eyes of hers and it was a shot to the heart. The more time I spent around her, the more smitten I became, and I somehow knew in my very bones that this was something special, something different from any other experience, friendship, or relationship that I’d ever engaged in.

  I just clicked with this woman on so many levels and it was awesome, but it deserved a certain amount of caution and care; it was worth taking our time at it, given both our histories.

  About an hour and some change into the ride, I pulled off at a rest-stop and Lil perked up a bit. I pulled into one of the spots in front of the outbuilding and killed the engine.

  “Figured we could use a break, get up and stretch, use the bathroom if you needed, and take it easy on our bodies.”

  “I appreciate that, thank you,” she said and got down. She pressed her hands to her hips, just below her lower back and pressed, leaning back.

  “How you doing?” I asked.

  “Good,” she declared with a smile. “I didn’t realize just how much of your core you used when riding and I have to confess, I have a pretty weak one, too much sitting and typing. I try to swim every day but I haven’t been too successful and being sedentary is catching up to me.”

  I smiled and got up myself, giving my legs a good stretch, pulling my heel to my butt, hand on the top of my boot to get a good stretch through my quad along the top of my thigh. Lil mimicked me and smiled and gave a nod. I chuckled and she sighed out.

  “Be right back, I’m going to take the chance to use the restroom.”

  “I’ll walk with you,” I said, and I did. I walked her to the bathroom and waited outside for her. I was friends with a bunch of lawyers and cops and was well aware of what a human-trafficking corridor I-95 was.

  We were almost out of Maryland and about to cross into Delaware for a hot minute before passing into Jersey. I thought about hanging a left and heading into Pennsylvania to find that cheesesteak, but also thought about skipping it. It wouldn’t add to our trip by too much, but honestly, if you wanted a good cheesesteak, you went all the way into Philly itself. I finally decided to stop waffling back and forth on it and just ask her when she got out.

  She came out of the restroom and I blurted, “Feel like taking a short detour into Philly for lunch?”

  “Sure! Why Philly?”

  “Ever had a genuine Philly cheesesteak?”

  “No.”

  I looked at her, aghast. “Okay, now we’re totally doing this.”

  She wrinkled her nose a bit and said, “Doesn’t it have green peppers? I don’t really like them. They pretty much overpower everything put with them. That might be why I haven’t tried one anywhere else.”

  “Oh, girlfriend, no. The only place to get a Philly cheesesteak is Philly itself. We so gotta do this, now.”

  She laughed and gave a shrug. “I’m game. What’s the worst that can happen? I try it the once and if I don’t like it, I never eat it again.”

  I laughed, “Good attitude.”

  I asked her to wait for me outside the men’s room and to shout if there was any problem. She said ‘Sure’, but seemed puzzled, and I went in and rushed through my own business. She was right where I’d left her when I came out, and we slow-walked back to the bike.

  “Why’d you ask me that?” she asked, when we were halfway there.

  “What?”

  “To wait for you like that.”

  “I‘m in a club full of cops and a lawyer; sometimes I know too much,” I said, not wanting to freak her out. She cocked her head and smiled this charmed little smile.

  “Trafficking, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said and smiled back.

  “I watch true crime shows while I write, remember? That and I’m a single woman. We’re pretty much trained in fear since birth; always be on guard and expect the worst.” A cloud of sadness passed through her gaze as she stared off in the direction of the bike. We’d stopped walking with about a third of the distance left to get to it. “Still, for a lot of us, even being so prepared, even the ones of us that are sharp and look out and think we’re able to handle it,” her voice softened, “we still get taken by surprise every time.”

  I had to know and so I asked, “Talking about Mark?” Because I really wanted her to be just talking about him anything else was too terrible to contemplate.

  “And my mom,” she said and I frowned. She shuddered, almost as if to shake it off.

  “We should get going, right? Weren’t we leaving so early to beat traffic?”

  “Yeah, let me back out before you get on.”

  “Sure.”

  I couldn’t escape the creeping feeling that I’d stumbled into some sort of emotional landmine for her. It was something I wanted to explore more
, because I wanted to know everything there was to know about her eventually, but it was something that could be poked at later, on her own time. I could be patient for the real bad stuff. I didn’t want to hurt her by prying.

  The somberness of the mood, predictably, was blown away by the rush of the wind in our faces and the pavement beneath the bike’s tires as we rode up the interstate, through toll booths, and along the turnpikes up the eastern seaboard, though the water was pretty far out of sight. There were points where I glanced back at Lil who was staring dreamily through her safety glasses, a bit of a Mona Lisa smile on her beautiful lips, and it did my heart some good.

  Seemed she liked to ride as much as I did and it had a similar effect on the both of us. The nagging sensation that this girl might very well be the one for me returned and it was voraciously gnawing at my insides. You would think it was annoying when I put it that way, but it was the exact opposite. It gave me this light, effervescent feeling, like my heart rose in the center of my chest, inflated like a balloon, rising with a sense of peace and joy.

  Lillian Banks was becoming like a perfect drug for me and I had no complaints. She was probably the healthiest addiction I’d had so far. Adrenaline certainly wasn’t the healthiest thing in the world, nor was my relationship with Torrid. That’d felt good at the start but had quickly become toxic as hell. Everything with Lil was different so far. She cared about my feelings and it felt like a fair and equal exchange. I liked that, and I wasn’t keen on missing an opportunity to spend any time with her no matter what form it took.

  It was like if Youngblood didn’t already take my top honor as best friend, Lil could be there. She was certainly becoming a fast runner-up for the position.

  I got off the Jersey Turnpike and headed for Philly and Lil seemed pleased as punch, taking in the sights and pointing out things she’d never seen before. It was kind of cool, her excitement over things I’d passed a thousand times and just took for granted as landmarks anymore.

  I took her to Sonny’s Famous Steaks, which wasn’t necessarily the most famous place in Philly to grab one, but it took top honors and was near some famous attractions I thought Lil might like to see. One of them was the Liberty Bell, so we did lunch, which she loved, by the way, and then wandered over that way. It was nice to get the breaks in from the hard freeway riding she wasn’t used to, plus, it gave me the added bonus of putting off New York traffic for the time being. It wasn’t always fun being a biker in NYC traffic. For one, cabbies just didn’t give a fuck. Crazy bastards would just pull out from the curb out of nowhere.

  We’d lucked out on the weather. It was overcast but warmer than usual with some pretty frequent sunbreaks. Lil took a bunch of pictures and we even did a few goofy selfies. I thought it was cute that she asked me before posting anything to social media and I said sure, but had her tag my Instagram which, for my end, was mostly bikes, the firehouse, and a fuck of a lot of food pictures.

  She added me and tagged me on the spot, my favorite picture by far of us, the selfie in front of the Liberty Bell, me holding up two fingers and Lil laughing, half hiding behind my shoulder. She typed a damn novel in the caption section.

  Awesome weather, great fun, even better friends, and my very first time in Philadelphia ever! Thank you @Backdraft_Fireguy for the wild adventure today. Backdraft is driving me to the Hallowed Be Thy Light premier on the back of his motorcycle. Can you believe it? Me! Hope everyone is having a fabulous Thursday. As soon as I get back home, I will carry on writing all the words. Stay tuned for more of my crazy adventures with this guy! #NewBestFriend #ThisGuyIsCrazy #AdrenalineJunkieConvert #TimberPhilips #RomanceAuthor

  I chuckled and she wandered back over from where she’d snapped a few other pictures and sighed out. “We should probably get going,” she said. “We keep this up, we won’t make New York until after dark.”

  “Ever been?” I asked.

  “To New York? A few times.” She made a face. “I like cities, but New York is just so big. That’s why I picked Indigo City. It was the closest to the cities I am used to on the west coast. Smaller, but with trees and water and green growing things all around and through them.”

  “New York has Central Park,” I pointed out and she smiled with a warm glow.

  “I know, that’s my absolute favorite part of it.”

  “Mind if I make one stop on the way to the hotel when we get there?” I asked. I wanted to stop by Ground Zero. As a firefighter, it felt like it was a requisite for visiting NYC. It was before my time coming on the ICFD, but the FDNY had lost three-hundred-and-forty-three of their guys that day, and I didn’t feel right not stopping and paying my respects.

  “Absolutely, we can stop wherever you want,” she said, her smile bright.

  “Rock on, let’s do it,” I said, and she grinned. We went back to the bike and she got on behind me and I took us back in the direction of the turnpike to take us north.

  The traffic in the city was pretty much worse than I remembered it, if that were even possible. Lil had a death-grip on me that may or may not have bruised a couple of ribs and I couldn’t blame her. When we stopped, I had a habit of resting a hand back on one of her knees, giving it a squeeze. I was pretty sure I hated it just as much as she did. I got stupid lucky and found a spot wide enough to back the bike against the curb between a couple of cars that left them more than enough room to get out without coming close to her. Lil waited patiently on the sidewalk, but her demeanor had sobered and become somber as she stared across the street, the sound of rushing water painting the air over the traffic noise.

  I went over and joined her and she didn’t say a word, just reached out and took my hand. We crossed at the crosswalk and approached. I took my moment or two of silent introspection and when I turned to Lil, it was to see silent tears slipping down her cheeks while her gaze roamed name after engraved name, as if she was determined to commit every single one of them to memory, like they engraved themselves on a piece of her heart as soon as those stormy gray-blue eyes passed over them.

  God, she was so selfless, so beautiful, and so willing to feel everything as the moment called for it. That was a type of brave I had no words for. It made my running into burning buildings look kind of paltry in comparison.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she said and sort of hugged my arm, leaning her head against my shoulder.

  “Um, excuse me,” a light feminine voice called from behind us a minute later, and Lil shot me an apologetic look.

  “Yes?” I asked, expecting the same thing she did: a fan looking for an autograph.

  “I couldn’t help it,” the artsy-looking girl with the paint-stained overalls said. “I took this picture of you two standing there and I was wondering if you wanted me to send you a copy.”

  She turned her phone to reveal this perfectly-lit shot of us from behind, my colors looking pretty proud, Lil with her head on my shoulder with Ground Zero stretching out in front of us. Lil and I exchanged a look.

  “Yeah,” I said and I gave her my number. She texted it to me and I forwarded it to Lil’s phone. “You mind if I post it?” I asked.

  “No, not at all! Could you maybe credit me, though? I’m an art student and it could help me if it goes viral or something.”

  Lil laughed and then covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, not at all!” but she didn’t elaborate on how it had a pretty good chance of going viral, at least among her fanbase.

  I got the girl’s information and posted it to my IG, tagging Lil’s Timber account in the process. The girl, Canaday, didn’t look too thrilled with Lil, but I got it. She smiled at me and thanked me and I thanked her. It was a stellar image and did my club and colors proud. I even set it as a phone background, I liked it so much.

  Lil smiled up at me and we shared a moment of light on the edge of the dark void of somber loss and reflection. This was turning out to be a real good day. Probably one of the best days I'd had in a good long while.<
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  12

  Lilli…

  We were late, but I’d kept Veronica up-to-date with regular texts and she was the only person we were technically late for. She kept telling me to stop worrying about it and to have fun, but it was how I was. I was a worrier.

  We pulled into the subterranean parking garage of the hotel and stopped at the kiosk to pull a ticket. The attendant at the booth let us know that we just needed to present the ticket when we finished checking in and that they would add the parking to the room charge. I was good with that. I didn’t want Backdraft paying anything and by golly, the movie studio could foot the parking bill. He’d just saved them a huge amount of money in airfare, so yeah.

  We parked in one of the motorcycle stalls conveniently located near the elevators and Backdraft unlocked and opened up one of the hard-sided saddlebag things, pulling out a heavy black backpack. He slung it over one shoulder after locking up and, helmet dangling from his other hand, gestured for me to go ahead of him.

  I’d taken my helmet off too, and tried to smooth down the flyaway hairs in my reflection on the elevator doors. This was a swanky hotel, probably one of the finest in New York, and had been rented in full for the premier.

  The elevator dinged and the doors swept open onto a lobby full of brass and dark marble. We clacked our way across the shiny floor, our boot heels making a heavy sound and I smiled. Silly, but it made me feel like a badass.

  “Can I help you?” The desk clerk looked disdainfully at our presence and I felt myself blush and shrink a bit. I just wasn’t the prima donna type and I still wasn’t used to asserting myself, so I tried to remain polite, even though the desk clerk didn’t seem to have any interest in even trying.

  I wonder what the matter is? I thought as I said, “Yes, I’m Timber Philips and I believe there should be a reservation for me under that name?”