My therapist once labelled me a ‘nymphomaniac with self-destructive tendencies’. Some shit like that. I just need a buzz and a bad boy, that’s not so abnormal, is it? I refuse to believe this is a medical condition that needs writing down in a notebook, by some suited and spectacled bore, to then be typed up and filed on the computer under ‘Jessica Layton: Epic Failure’.

I mean, sure, I may have spent my life careering from one disaster to another, but sometimes the world throws that crap your way, and you have to deal with it and move on.

That’s why I was here, riding down the only road access to South Padre Island, on the gulf coast of Texas, with the two mile causeway stretching out before me like a glinting path to redemption.

Let’s call it my own brand of therapy, since none of theirs bloody worked. One last blow out; get it out of my system. Then I’ll sort my shit out. I’ll grow up and swallow their incessant drivel about how to live a ‘normal’ life. Really I will.

But, I read a book once about how to quit smoking – it encouraged you to keep on puffing the whole time you were reading, until you got to the last page. It worked. I haven’t had a cigarette since.

So I reckon it’s the same here. Keep on with the reckless living whilst contemplating my new life, with my friend Anna tutoring me on how exactly I should go about living like a normal person. She’d agreed to take some vacation time herself to introduce me to the island in style. And once the vacation is over, I’ll be cured! Bam! Maybe I’ll write a self help book about it afterwards.

Seriously though, it better work, because I have a new job lined up ready, and I can’t let Anna, or myself down. My jacket currently held a distinctive bare spot, the leather all clean compared to the rest, where I’d removed the patch from my old fire station. It was a conspicuous reminder that I’d fucked up, and I couldn’t wait to get patched in with the Carnage Crew – South Padre Island Fire Department. Cover up that bare patch on my jacket, and maybe the one in my soul.

The cars slowed in front of me as the island drew near and I skirted round them. It was tempting to rip open the throttle on my brute of a motorbike and blaze my way into town, starting as I mean to continue, but another speeding ticket wouldn’t be the best start. I’d lose my license at this rate. Anna told me that the police were tough on that around here, unless you were one of ‘them’. God knows what that meant, she’d changed the subject in a flurry of excited babble.

I held off at a steady speed, just a fraction over the limit, since I couldn’t bring myself to slow down any further. Then, with the bridge behind me, I hit the boulevard which went on and on in an irritatingly straight line. The straightness wouldn’t have been so bad if I could at least open him up and get some speed going. Smaller roads crisscrossed the island in grids.

Thankfully, neat and orderly ended with the roads. Everything else was clearly a carnival of crazy. I rode past bars overflowing with bronzed, half-naked bodies – drinks in hand, dancing, shouting, singing, making out. Neon lights decorated the roadside with an array of colour in the fading evening light. The party went on and on, from one bar or hotel to the next. Barely an inch of ground was left free from a gyrating booty. Even through my helmet, and the growl of the engine, I could still make out the constant rhythm of music.

As I began to wonder if I’d missed Anna’s turning, a guy stumbled into the road like a deranged version of Bambi, all gangly legs going in opposite directions. I might have seen him sooner had I not been checking my eyeliner in the side mirror. My brakes slammed down, the back wheel locked up, rising a foot into the air, and very nearly face planted me into the asphalt. I stopped an inch away and he looked up, bug-eyed and confused.

“You fucking bellend!” I yelled, flailing my hands.

He clutched a beer bong, the tube in his mouth and funnel held up high, guzzling the last few drops. His buddies caught up and patted him on the back, putting him into fits of choking laughter and sending beer spraying all over me. I could handle that, but the sticky shit on my baby, dripping over the paintwork and handlebars?

“Not cool, dude.” I wiped at the tank with my sleeve, biting back the urge to get off the bike and shove that tube down his throat.

“Oh my God! That’s a chick riding that thing!” One of the guys drew closer, staggering and peering into my helmet like I was a circus exhibit. Jeers went up from the gathering crowd as they tried to get a good look.

I lifted my helmet visor and grabbed his drink, downing the blue poison from the bottle before shoving the empty back in his hands. “Come find me later, boys. Maybe one of you will get lucky and I’ll show you what else I can ride.” Jerking back the throttle, I left them eating my dust.

* * *

“A Ouija board?” Anna asked, picking out the old, worn board from a growing mountain of stuff on her table, and wafting it at me. “You still believe in that crap?”

“Of course. I thought it would be a blast from the college past. You know, my psychic Julie says—”

“Your psychic? You have a psychic now?” she cut me off laughing and dropped the board back in the pile.

“Look, Lady, there’s a lot of shit out there that we don’t know about. You need to open your mind a bit. Perhaps your gift will help with that.” I finally located the bottle of Rebel Yell whiskey at the bottom of my camping backpack and tapped her forehead with it. She poured two glasses, adding some ice.

“Anyway, what did your psychic say?” Anna threatened to burst into giggles again.

“Screw you! I’ll tell you later when you’re shitfaced, then you can go right ahead and split your sides.”

She slurped at her drink to hide her smile and watched me faffing with more belongings. I had tried, and failed, to pack light for the journey, seeing as the rest of my meagre possessions were being shipped to Anna’s in a few days.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here, Jess!” she said, clapping her hands in sudden excitement, and making her glasses wobble down her nose. “I wish you wouldn’t pay for a motel though, you can sleep here while you’re looking for a new apartment.”

“I’ll already be cluttering up your apartment with boxes, you don’t need me here, too. It’s fine. The motel looks a little run down on the website but, no offence; it does have a bed, which has to be better than your sofa.”

“Don’t be silly, you’d have my bed.” She gave me a pleading look.

“Then have the guilt of being all cosy in your bed while you suffer? Thanks, but no thanks. Anyway, forget that; tell me more about the wild nights we’re going to have, and why you never forced me to get my ass here sooner! This place looks amazing.” I took a slug of whiskey, the hot, syrupy warmth easing down my throat.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet. You don’t get two hundred and fifty thousand spring-breakers here every year for no reason.”

“That’s insane, the island is tiny!”

“Yep. And that many horny, drunk people all together in a small space…?” she waggled her eyebrows at me playfully. This girl was a walking contradiction; all nerdy looking with her little chubby face, always flushed, and big-rimmed glasses, yet, get some alcohol in her and she’s a livewire.

“So let’s go!” I downed the rest of my drink. One wouldn’t hurt. OK, two, if you’re counting that blue shit. “I hope you’ve still got that spare helmet and leathers?”

“Nowhere is further than a few minutes away round here. Don’t you think we should walk or get a cab?” she frowned.

“Humour me. It’s my new baby, I’ve only had him a week and I want to take every possible opportunity to ride him.”

“Him? It’s a motorcycle, Jess!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll fetch him back tomorrow.”

She sat in rigid hesitation, fiddling with her glasses.

“Come on! I’m a good rider, you’ll be safe.”

Begrudgingly, she grabbed her gear from the back of a cupboard and dusted off the cobwebs. Her jaw dropped when she noted the huge, red bike outside.

“I’d like you to meet my Ducati Streetfighter. Isn’t he beautiful? I’ve named him Loki, after the God of Mischief.”

“Fitting. It looks fast… and dangerous,” she frowned. “Shouldn’t you be more careful with money? Danny said you’re only going to be working two shifts a week.”

I flapped my hands at her silliness. “They’re twenty-four hour shifts, the pay is pretty good. Anyway, I still have a shit tonne in the bank that my parents left me. Benefits of being an only child with rich folks.”

“Oh yeah, their deaths were really fortunate for you,” she said sarcastically, immediately clasping a hand over her mouth in horror. “Shit, Jess, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”

“It’s fine,” I lied, as she cautiously settled herself onto the bike and the engine roared to life.

Truth was, that really was the opinion of most people after the event. Suspicious explosion, daughter suffering amnesia about what happened, very convenient. I shouldn’t be here, I should be dead. It was my fault. I didn’t know how, but I caused that explosion. Somehow.

And that suspicion and guilt still followed me around years later. It wasn’t going away. Ever.

* * *

I wheelied away and chuckled as Anna nearly fell off the back, frantically clutching at my jacket. She directed me to the beach with taps on my shoulders — as if it was hard to get lost in this place — and I cruised over to the parking lot. A group of guys hovered around their bikes. One of them watched us approach, no doubt appreciating the thundering machine heading his way. This would be fun.

Pulling up next to him, I dismounted slowly, trying to act casual, even though his gaze on me had my heart fluttering. A quick sideways glance told me that he was gorgeous, in a ‘is this guy actually real’ kind of way. Dark, spiked-up hair, lean and muscled, dressed casual. I removed my helmet and let my red hair fall around my shoulders in a dramatic cliché movie moment, shaking it out before looking up to return his smile.

He wasn’t smiling though; he was giving me some sort of twisted, murderous look. I was used to guys being surprised when they realise it’s a girl on the bike, but they love it, they don’t look at me like that. It quickly became awkward. I tried to look away and found I couldn’t. So I stood there gawking at him, his eyes burning through me in weird hatred. Just as I threatened to crumble into ash under the heat of his glare, he screwed his face up in disgust and turned his back on me.

The world snapped back into focus. Noise filled my ears and drowned out the sound of my heart, which had gone from fluttering to all-out thudding. I hesitated with the key in the ignition. Should I approach him? Anna was dithering, trying to undo the strap on her helmet and looking embarrassingly flustered, so I yanked the key and pulled her away down the beach.

“Darn it!” she mumbled beneath the helmet, still fumbling with the release.

“Calm down, would you?” I batted her hands aside and pulled her free.

“Can’t breathe in that thing!”

“Not around hotness like that.” Curiosity had me glancing back over my shoulder.

“That was Zac Elwood,” she said the name with hushed awe, but her face turned sour. “Hotness doesn’t even cover it. He’s also a complete A-hole.”

“Is that why he was looking at me like I’d just insulted his mother?”

“Don’t take it personally. His group are always around here, everyone idolises them. Zac’s in his own little world though, he never notices anyone.”

“Typical. Always the best looking ones that have issues.”

“You should know.” She gave me a disapproving look and I shoved her playfully.

“Ta-dah,” she said suddenly, sweeping her arm in a grand gesture as we arrived at a beach bar. “This is MoJoe’s. Best party on the island!”

“Oh yeah?” I glanced around at the fading paint and a girl puking her guts up into the sand outside the door.

“Danny owns it. His little sideline. That means half price drinks, and that means it’s the best!” She slapped my shoulder.

“Shit, Danny? Is he going to be here?”

I wasn’t ready to see my new boss. Last time I saw him was about four years ago, when I’d fucked him and then ignored his texts. It didn’t escape me that he may have given me this job out of a twisted urge to watch me squirm. Or maybe with the hope of more fucking, which, actually, wouldn’t be so bad.

I don’t know why I’d ignored him, what’s not to like about a fit Fire Chief? Even if he was ten years older. He was ageing in total style, his steel grey hair always spiked-up and his sharp, bright eyes always full of mischief. At least, that’s how he was then. I wondered – half hoped – he was still as I remembered.

Danny’s parents were close to Anna’s and, as a result, they were close, too — right from when Anna was born and he would help look after her, play with her. He was practically her big brother, which meant I’d encountered him numerous times since Anna and I became friends at college. He was impressed when he met me and found I was studying fire science.

Anna and I were studying different things, but hit it off right away, from that first crazy night at the student bar. We all fell into an easy, casual friendship. Anna was the only person in the world that saw past my ups and downs, the mood swings, the quirky shit, the weird occurrences. She stuck around, when no one else did.

I guess now I could officially class Danny as a supporter, too. Following a massive fuck-up and suspension at my previous fire department, I’d miraculously landed this job. Either my old Chief fluffed up my reference in an eager bid to finally be rid of me, or Anna had done some pleading with Danny to take a chance on me.

We found a table outside on the beach, with the parking lot not far away. Thankfully, Danny wasn’t around. I could avoid that first greeting for a little longer. Anna rambled on about what we were going to do over the coming weeks. Should she get her hair cut to celebrate my arrival? Should we try out bungee jumping?

I was only half listening. I kept glancing back toward the motorbikes where Zac sat poised and moody, glowing under the floodlights like a smouldering apparition, whilst his friends laughed and joked around him. He toyed with an airgun and was idly shooting cans across the parking lot with remarkable accuracy. I heard them ping away with each shot fired. Was it even legal to do shit like that in a public space?

I told myself I was only looking to make sure my Loki was alright. If one of those bullets hit him, he’d be a dead man. But the truth was, he fascinated me. Each time I glanced up I was sure that he’d been watching me, but within a second he wasn’t anymore, and he’d shot down another can. Always so quick that I couldn’t be sure whether he’d really been looking at all.

I turned to look once more and the hair on my arms sprang up like I’d been dumped in ice. My breath caught in my throat. I coughed to try and cover up the gasp that had sneaked out. This time he was definitely staring at me, his head tilted. In fact, he seemed utterly transfixed. I had to clutch the table as a dizzy wave ran over me.

“Jess… Jess… Jess! Are you listening?” Anna poked my arm.

“He’s kinda staring at me.”

“Huh!” she said with surprise. “I’ve never seen him show interest in any of the girls, but he’s certainly interested in you right now.” She jabbed another finger into me, harder this time, with a suggestive edge to her tone.

“I don’t think it’s that sort of look. He’s not eyeing me up, it’s kind of menacing, don’t you think?” I spoke out the side of my mouth, as if he could hear me all the way over there. Alarm bells vibrated through my head, making me feel anxious and excited at the same time.

He looked away and carried on shooting like nothing had happened. Then he laughed at something, but there still seemed to be uneasiness about his posture. With his gaze averted I was released from a strange pressure inside my head, and immediately longed for more.

“And there you have it,” Anna muttered. “Weird A-hole.”