Another Wednesday, another #1lineWed prompt. Today’s? **TWIST** Oh, the possibilities…twist and shout, twist and turn, twisting in the wind, twisted up. 😆 Today’s snippet comes from NIGHT FIRE, the story of an arsonist named Smoke and the arson investigator who twists him into knots. 😉
He straddled his bike, kicked it into gear. He had to get away. The Nightriders had attorneys with big retainers. They’d see to those bogus arson charges. They always did, even the ones he was guilty of. No, he wasn’t running from that. Fuck. He wasn’t running at all. He was riding. Heading out into the night where he belonged.
On the road. Sayonara, baby. The bitch turned on him. And he was the biggest gawddamned fool on the planet to have believed they could make something together. Ha. The arson investigator and the arsonist. At best it was a bad B movie. At worst?
At worst, it was just exactly what had happened. She didn’t believe him. Didn’t believe in him. He was fire. She was water. Only she wasn’t. She should have quenched his heat. Except, she was the fire, lighting him up, burning in his blood. She lit up his darkness when she should have just faded into it.
He hit the highway doing eighty. The wind’s fingers twisted in his hair, not like the lover she had always been, but like the whore she could be on a cold night on a lonely stretch of of road.
His heart burned in his chest—not with heat but with a frigid intensity that left his whole body numb. Smoke didn’t know where he was going. Didn’t care as long as it was away from her. From Leigh. He should never have stopped. Never turned around to go back for her that godforsaken morning.
What twisted words do you have to share?