I stare at him, blushing, and he winces.
“Oh.” He nods, comprehending. “Ok. I do have to spell it out for you.” He draws me closer, gathering me up into his chest. He kisses the top of my head. “Ava, sex is one thing. It’s the easy part. I’ve wanted to fuck you pretty much since you got here, because you’re fucking gorgeous and I’m a man. But you’re more than that. You’re…brave and funny and smart. You don’t give up. I think I fell for you when I found you in that alley, shivering and torn up and you smacked me with a pipe. Remember that little episode?”
I laugh, nodding, and Bane strokes my hair.
“You said last night you wanted to be with me,” he says, “And I took that to mean more than sex. But I’m asking you now, to be clear, more than sex: do you want to be with me? I mean be with me.”
“Aren’t I with you right now?”
He rolls his eyes. “I mean be my woman. I’ve never asked a woman that before. Like, I feel like you could be an actual fucking partner, you know? I told you I want out of Death Layer, this life. I’m done with it. I wanna start over with you. OK? That clear enough for you?”
I crane my neck back and gaze up at him. Smacking him in the chest with my fists, I tease, “Now was that so fucking hard to say? Really? Are you always going to be such a pain in the ass?”
“You brat,” he laughs, tickling me. I yelp and squirm away but he catches me and tosses me back on the bed, throwing his body over me and kissing me. “I’m gonna get you for that.”
Chapter Seventeen
It takes us another hour to get out of bed, at which point Bane relents and lets me just wear my old bra and one of his white workout t-shirts, which hits me around the knees, and a pair of his under armor shorts.
“I look like an alter boy,” I mutter.
Bane studies the effect and snorts. “I’ve never been more attracted to you.”
“Gross.”
I shoot him a look, and follow him downstairs. When we get to the first floor landing, I see that someone’s mopped up the blood and removed Smokey’s body. But I still shudder as we pass over the spot, as if it’s haunted. Bane grimaces, takes my hand and pulls me forward into the front room of the first floor.
This is the Death Layer building entrance from the street-level, and my curiosity is finally quenched when I see what it is. It’s an innocuous auto parts shop covered in dust, with a bright blue motorcycle in the window. Judge Jefferson, who looks a little hangover, is manning the service desk. He snaps his newspaper down below his nose, nods at us, and raises the paper to continue reading. Bane shrugs at me and leads me through the door and out onto the street.
“That was weirdly easy,” I say once we’re outside.
Bane nods. “JJ is an alright guy. Like I told you, he doesn’t feel good about all this D.L. club stuff either. He’ll cover for us if anyone gets nosy. We should be able to disappear for an hour or two before anyone gets suspicious.”
The thick orange sunlight and garbage smell of New York City summer hits me in the face and I drink it in, euphoric. It’s the first time the intense smell of Manhattan’s famous summer scent of baking piss has made me feel happy.
It is the first time I have felt the sun since Mr. King dumped me here. I subconsciously slow down to a standstill on the sidewalk, relishing the feel of outdoor air. I’m trying to get my bearings on the neighborhood. It’s a narrow, twisty cobblestone street that smells like fish.
“Chinatown?” I ask Bane.
He gently pulls my hand, bringing me back into step with him. “Two Bridges. That’s why the club got the building so cheap.”
Bane leads me back into the alley entrance behind the Death Layer building, where his motorcycle is still leaning on its kickstand.
“Might as well meet my other girl,” Bane says with twinkling eyes. “Ava, meet Pearl. Pearl, Ava. Pearl’s a 2013 Harley-Davidson V-Rod Muscle. She’s got a 1250cc Revolution engine that can produce 122 horsepower. Which means she can kick ass and take names. I’ll start her, then you hop on behind.”
My eyes glaze over. He might as well be speaking another language.
“Hop on?” That’s the only part I heard. “Just hop on, just like that, huh?”
Bane is already squatting on the motorcycle. He revs the engine and shoots me that wicked grin of his. I have to admit he looks fucking fantastic aboard the leather and chrome monster, his handsome face simultaneously inviting and challenging. I feel something just south of my belly quiver and flush.
“Yeah,” he shouts. “Hop on.”
“Right,” I holler back, “Because I totally know how to hop on a motorcycle! I do it all the damn time!”
“Figure it out!”
Biting my lip, I stare at what seems like the absurdly tiny strip of leather behind Bane’s hips that must serve as the passenger seat. There’s a black and chrome backrest sticking up, and the question is how to get my ass between that and Bane without overshooting and winding up on the exhaust pipe.
“Here goes nothing,” I mutter. Taking a deep breath, I launch my leg over and amaze myself by fitting in just right. It’s actually comfortable. Bane glances over his shoulder, winks at me, and pulls my arms around his waist.
“Good girl,” he shouts “Now hold on good and tight, like you can’t get enough of me.”
“That’s easy.” I laugh.
We lurch forward and zip onto the street, careening around pedestrians and parked cars. The wind is whipping through my hair. I can’t deny that the feel of the powerful bike vibrating between my legs is turn-on, and having to wrap myself tight around Bane makes it even better. I can definitely see why he loves bikes.
Bane veers through a few lights and onto Bowery, which is bustling with bicycles, buses, people, and carts. My wild smile stretches to a squeal.
“Holy fuck!” I screech, laughing. “We’re gonna die!”
“Relax, I’ve done this before!”
I can hear Bane laughing as he weaves the bike dramatically through traffic. He’s totally doing it on purpose, freaking me out for fun. I squeeze onto his back as tight as I can, and get a whiff of his scent through the air. My heart is pounding pleasantly and it feels a lot like freedom.
We follow Bowery up to Hester Street, and then turn on Mott. I know we’re somewhere around Little Italy but honestly could never find my way through this area to save my life even on a normal day. After what feels like a trip down the rabbit hole, Bane pulls his bike up to the curb.