Chasing Storm by Teagan Kade Page B

anywhere near Rosie or Millertown when one of those twisters comes through. Take it from me.”
    He picks up his jeans from the floor and pulls them on not bothering with underwear. He finds a crumpled white tee in the corner and slings it over his head.
    I get a hot flash as I remember his chest sliding over mine last night, the way my hands fisted in the sheets as we made love.
    That wasn’t making love. That was raw, dirty fucking. You enjoyed it, didn’t you?
    He looks at me curiously. “Knock, knock, anyone there?”
    “Sorry, I-, I was just thinking.”
    “About what?”
    I grasp at the first thing that comes to mind. “My story?”
    He holds his head in his hands and comes back up with a long inhale of breath. “You’re just not going to give it up, are you?”
    I shake my head. “It’s not in my nature, sorry.”
    He smiles. “I like that.”
    He stands and leans against the wall. “Look, if you want to see the real Millertown, if you really want to tell her story, let me show you.”
    “What, now?”
    “There’s no better time than the present. Come on, we’ll grab a bite later.”
    He tosses my clothes back at me warm from the dryer. “I’ll wait for you outside.”
    When I come out, Storm’s already got his motorbike running. He twists the throttle and clouds billow from the back of the death machine through a blanket of heavy fog.
    “I thought you said you weren’t a bikie.”
    “Bikie implies I’m part of a club.”
    “You’re not.”
    “One man band.”
    “I’m not getting on that thing,” I tell him.
    He gives the throttle another squeeze. “My way or the highway.”
    “What is this, cliché 101?”
    He tosses me a helmet and scoots forward.
    I throw the helmet on and swing up behind him, settling myself against the leather and dip of his back, closing my arms around his torso as the bike chugs below. The last time I was on a motorcycle was with Tim.
    “I should warn you,” I start, raising my voice to compete with the erratic idle, “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a-” but my words are lost as we take off at breakneck speed, burning out up the road towards Millertown. The world swims by in a blur as I press myself to Storm’s shoulder. He smells of machines, of sweat and the country and living free. He’s the complete antithesis of every guy I’ve dated, except for Tim.
    In no time at all we’re into Millertown proper. It looks just as shabby as it did yesterday.
    Storm drives down the main street, waving at the occasional passer-by, and heads out into the residential area.
    He pulls up outside a solid brick home, bringing the bike to the curb and helping me off. The fact he cups my butt to lift me from the seat does not go unnoticed.
    I look around. It’s quiet enough. “Where are we?”
    “Come,” he says, walking towards the house. “There are a few people I want you to meet.”
    A large lady greets us at the door.
    “Storm, my dear!” she beams, embracing him and pulling us both inside.
    He turns to introduce me. “This is Alice, from the Big Apple. She’s here to do a piece on Millertown for one of the big New York papers. Alice, this is Monica.”
    I extend my hand, but Monica pulls me in for an embrace instead. It’s like my lungs are going to pop out of my mouth. “Beautiful Alice. You know, I don’t think Storm’s ever brought a girl here. You must be real special.”
    “Please,” says Storm, cutting between us. “Is Lucy around?”
    “Sure, right down back.”
    I peer into the rooms as we walk. “Is this some kind of halfway house?”
    “You could say that. After the mill closed a lot of the older folks here were left without a home, income, pension… Monica opened her doors and this place was born. She doesn’t make a single dime from it.”
    “That’s really great. I mean, I had no idea. How do you know her?”
    “She’s something of a surrogate mother to me. Found me in town one day going through the bins, gave me a meal.