Thinking Of Her

Rick

All the aches and pains that had plagued me on Saturday night were still with me when I woke up on Monday morning. I was lying on my back, and Harley was tucked into my side. Her cheek was on my chest, and her left leg was draped over me. Her breathing was deep and slow and soft, and I didn’t open my eyes.

I just lay there and listened to her. And felt her closeness.

Yesterday had been dedicated to recovering and covering our tracks from Saturday’s race. I hired a tow-truck driver to come get the Saleen and bring it back to my place, where I got it in the garage so that if the cops came looking for it, the car wasn’t sitting out somewhere. It needed a lot of work, and the downside of street racing was obviously that it didn’t have insurance. I couldn’t claim a hit and run when the car was beat to shit on both sides and the rear end.

Fucking Torq.

But it was just a car, and I liked working on vehicles. The Saleen would be my project for the next year or so while I figured out what