Part Three

Gasoline and crisp leather. The ripping roar of the wind, and the hum of the engine beneath her. A constant thrill from the danger of the bike racing down the interstate, and the security of Clark's firm body. Shawna sat behind him, arms around his waist, pressed flush with the thick back of his leather jacket. Clark was no longer alone in his fashion choices — when she had arrived at his door, he'd had a surprise for her. A woman's leather jacket, fitted near perfectly to her body, and a full, sleek black helmet were hers to do with as she pleased.

"Got them back from an ex who didn't want anything to do with me. Leather's expensive. Thought I'd recycle it, make sure it got a good home instead of letting it be moth food in a closet or donated and abused as cheap thrift."

Maybe Clark wasn't the most romantic man, but at least he was thoughtful. Shawna was putting the gifts to good use.

They'd been driving for close to three hours at this point, and Shawna's thighs were killing her. The pack she wore was heavy and threatened to throw her off balance, and so she'd been clinging to Clark and the sides of the bike with renewed vigor. Crashing or falling off, even with her thick leather and her new helmet, would likely mean death — as carefree as Shawna was trying to be, dying didn't spell out a good time. If she was going to enjoy liberty and spontaneous behavior, she had to be alive.

B.C. was the destination. British Columbia. Mountains and ancient forests. Mild temperatures and diversified culture. Clark said the women there were hot shit, and Shawna wondered what kind of secrets she would discover wandering its streets. The deal was that they'd split a room in a motel, and Clark would drop her off and pick her up at set times, but that the rest of the time, they'd be on their own. That arrangement suited Shawna just fine. Some time on her own wouldn't hurt.

The bike veered to the right, destined for the next exit. Shawna lifted her head to look. A rest stop. Even as her thighs thanked her, her constitution wavered. Could she really keep up this balancing act for a month? They'd be traveling every day, sometimes multiple hours a day if they were on the move. It was going to be tough.

A wooden building with a sloped roof offered restrooms and vending machines, and the lush grounds around it were dotted with picnic benches. Clark navigated into the parking lot and glided to a gentle stop in one of the spots up front, nearest the building.

"Gotta piss," he announced, taking his helmet from his head. The first night they'd met, he hadn't had the sense to wear one. Long distance traveling awoke a sense of mortality in him, or so it seemed. "Wait here for me, unless you've gotta piss, too."

Shawna did not need to use the facilities — she was so clenched up, she thought she might never need to go again. Instead, as Clark eased himself from the bike and strode towards the lodge, Shawna hopped down, slung the pack from her back for some brief relief, and took her cellphone from her back pocket. To her surprise, four text messages waited.

Ben (1:24PM): I think we should try to talk about this.

Ben (1:30PM): I'm really sorry I was such a jerk to you. You didn't deserve to be attacked like that.

Ben (1:41PM): Please call me.

Ben (2:04PM): If you call me, I swear I will treat you with respect and listen to what you have to say. This doesn't have to be the end.

The words twisted and sat uneasily in her gut. Shawna bit down on her bottom lip and wondered if she should just ignore them. Leaving him hanging proved impossible — Ben had been her everything for five years, and she owed him a little respect. A relationship as long as theirs wasn't over just like that. No break was that clean. Shawna lifted her eyes to observe the lodge, found Clark nowhere in sight, and hastily dialed Ben's number.

Why was it that she felt guilty doing so?

The phone rang. Shawna shifted her weight from foot to foot, waiting for him to pick up. Just when she was about to hang up, Ben's familiar voice greeted her.

"Hey, Shawna. I'm really glad you decided to call. Are you at work?"

By all rights, she should have been. How could she tell him she was traveling to Canada with the man he'd become so incensed over? She couldn't.

"I took the day off to deal with some stuff," she lied. "I was on the road when you texted me. What is it that you want to talk about?"

"I wanted to let you know how sorry I am," Ben said. Shawna pursed her lips and tried not to let his words affect her, tried to remember how miserable she had been while they were living together. The good times were long gone, and Ben had ignored her needs for so long that she should never consider taking him back, no matter how good the apology. And yet...

"It's not all your fault," she tried to reason with him. "When we started dating, we were young. With time, we grew apart. There's nothing shameful about that."

"What's shameful is that I didn't do my part to try to grow back to you, to unify our lives as they should have been. I wanted to propose to you." The words sank like stones in her gut and spread cold dread through her. No. He wasn't bringing this up now, was he? Shawna left her bag near the bike and made tracks to the nearest picnic bench, sitting to brace herself as he continued to confess. "I wanted to do it last Christmas, but the ring I wanted to get you was too much for me to afford at that time. And then, month by month, little financial things kept popping up that prevented me from acting on what I wanted to do. And I got bitter. I wanted you forever, and now because of it, I don't have you at all."

"Maybe it's for the best," Shawna said. "Maybe what happened was for a reason."

"I don't know what reason that would be. I'm miserable. All I do is work and come home, work and come home, and there's no one there to brighten my day or talk to afterwards. I didn't realize how important you were to me until it was too late. Why don't you come home, Shawna? Come home and we can start over, and I can show you what a good guy I can be."

Here she was in the middle of nowhere, well on her way to Canada, with Ben spilling his guts on his lunch break. Shawna closed her eyes and leaned back until her back hit the table of the picnic bench.

"I don't know..."

"Please. Please give me a shot. You know me."

She knew the man he once was, and the man he had become. Ben was dependable when it came to financial matters and his professional life, but he'd never invested very much into their relationship — Shawna wasn't sure how much she could trust him.

To see clarity she opened her eyes to find Clark towering over her, looking down from above. A startled yelp punched a hole into the serious conversation she was having, and all of its importance leaked out, leaving it hollow and deflated.

"I've got to get back on the road. Gotta go—"

"—On the road? Where are you—"

"Bye."

With a jab at the end call button, Shawna let Ben go. Clark hitched an eyebrow, his oppressive presence not backing down. Decked out in thick black leather, hair windswept from the ride, clunky riding boots and fingerless gloves completing the image, he was as frightening as he was captivating. A bad boy through and through. Now that she was under his scrupulous gaze, Shawna felt weak and exposed.

"Who were you talking to?" he asked.

"Trouble," Shawna said earnestly. "Are you ready to go? I'm so ready to go."

Clark's gaze narrowed, and he turned his thoughts over as he considered her. Finally, with hesitance, he took a step back to allow her to stand.

"You know my policy — this is my ride, and if you're getting cold feet, you're on your own. I'm not coming to your rescue, blondie. Whatever's going on is a fight you're going to have to see through to victory all on your own."

The honesty of what he said spoke to her, and Shawna nodded. But as she rose and followed him back to the bike, and even when she'd secured her helmet and bag and had tucked herself against his back for safety, thoughts of Ben and the 'what ifs' swarmed her mind like bees around a hive. Had she made a mistake, and was she making it worse by running away to Canada with a stranger to forget her feelings? Now that Ben had called, she wasn't sure.

But there was no turning back.

Miles of road stretched out before them, and the afternoon sky bled into twilight. Soon the light of the moon paired with street lamps to point their way forward, but Clark showed no signs of stopping.

Had Shawna to guess, the bike slowed for the first time since the rest stop at close to midnight. Hungry and yet nauseated, in need of a restroom and yet too strung out to really care, Shawna saw the bright lights in the distance. The land border between the United States and Canada looked modern, the buildings sleek and elegant, traffic backed up even at this time of the night. Shawna tucked herself closer against Clark's back as they crawled to a stop to wait in line. Lines of cars waited for approval, and in the distance, Shawna saw the booths with the border agents. This was it — she was really leaving the country.

"Get that passport ready, blondie," Clark said. "The Canadians are vicious. They'll tear into you like polar bears if you aren't prepared after waiting in such a long line. Don't waste their time, and they won't waste yours."

The excitement and anticipation she felt was near choking. Shawna untucked the passport from an inside pocket of her new leather jacket and traced the gold embossing on the front. It was time to leave America, and her troubling thoughts, behind. If Ben was serious about marriage, he'd give her a month to think things through.

Car by car they advanced, until Clark's bike arrived at the booth. The officer, a stern looking woman with blonde hair tied back in a tight ponytail, took their passports and slid their info page up under a machine. The bike's motor idled beneath them, begging for the open road.

"What are you coming to Canada to do?" she asked.

"For pleasure," Clark answered casually. "Taking a road trip."

"For how long?"

"Three weeks," Clark announced.

"Are you two married?"

"No."

"A couple?"

The intense line of questioning was making Shawna nervous. Why did it matter what they were, anyway?

"Yeah, she's my girl," Clark responded without hesitation. Shawna's cheeks flushed. Had he really just said that? Was it what he really thought?

"And you, ma'am," the officer said, directing her stony gaze to Shawna, "do you have anything to declare? Any expensive jewelry?"

"No."

"Have you ever visited Canada before?"

"No."

Had Shawna known that crossing the border was so tough, she might have been happy to live a boring life. For her own comfort, her arms tightened around Clark's waist just a little bit more. Were they going to get turned away? The woman didn't sound friendly in the least, and Shawna had a hard time gauging her reaction.

"Then make sure you enjoy yourself during your stay. Welcome to Canada."

The greeting issued, the officer handed back both of their passports and Clark rolled away from the kiosk, tucking himself into a parking space just short of the road so they could helmet up. The exchange had occurred in less than two minutes, but Shawna's heart raced for it. If she were honest with herself, she couldn't tell if it was from the interrogation or from what Clark had said about their relationship.

"I'm your girl?" she asked as Clark lifted his helmet to his head. Before sliding it on he paused, glanced over his shoulder at her, and arched a brow.

"Well, I admittedly came to Canada looking for some sweet Canadian tail, but if you're so eager to be my girl, I'm not going to say no. We're on vacation, blondie. Time to let go and have fun. I just might be what you're looking for up here in the Great White North."

Once more, Shawna wasn't able to tell if he was serious or if he was joking. The blush of her cheeks grew redder yet, and she huffed a frustrated sigh before putting her helmet back into place.

"Yeah, right," she breathed against his back. Clark laughed low and gravelly, and the sound shook her to the core. The near stranger had been under her skin since the day they'd met, encouraging her to do reckless things, and yet she couldn't get enough of him.

"Well, whatever. Welcome to Canada. Let's get going and find a place to crash for the night — I'm just about exhausted."

And so onwards they went. In the dark of the night Shawna couldn't distinguish any of the Canadian wilderness, but she knew come morning, everything would be fresh and exciting. For now, the whistle of the wind and Clark's skillful, but rash, driving was more than enough to keep her occupied. The thirst for driving on the open road that Clark had spoken so fondly of had infected her. Once upon a time, a motorcycle had been about as appealing to Shawna as an electric chair. Now, she craved the danger, craved the whip of the wind, craved him—

No.

For as much as she was determined to let go and live by her own rules, Shawna could not invest herself in another person so quickly after leaving her boyfriend of five years. Especially not when that ex was calling her, looking to make amends. Even for her new ways, such a decision was far too rash.

When they pulled over at a spooky little motel for the night, Clark told her they were heading for Victoria tomorrow, and then parted ways with her to buy his own room for the night. The keys they were given let into rooms that shared a wall, and as Shawna closed the door behind her, she couldn't help but think about how nearby the bad boy next door slept. Despite the late hour, she sent a text to her mother confirming her safety and that she was headed to Victoria in the morning, then tucked herself into bed.

Tomorrow was another day in a new country, and although her thoughts lingered in the past, Shawna knew that her happiness lay in the future. Now that there was so much potential laid out before her, she refused to risk jeopardizing it. First, a good night's sleep. Next, enlightenment.

Five long years and she was finally living her dream, but without the man she'd imagined herself standing next to while accomplishing it.