Saving Faith By: David Baldacci

then immediately dropped her book and climbed on back. They were an

“item” for two months, planning their lives together, vowing their

undying love for each other, even though they never exchanged so much

as a peck on the lips. Then her mother died, and Faith’s father moved

them away. She briefly wondered if Lee and he could be one and the

same. She had banished the memory so completely from her subconscious

that she couldn’t even remember the boy’s name. It could be Lee,

couldn’t it? She thought this because the only other time in her

entire life when her knees had gone weak was on that playground. The

boy had said what Lee had just said, and the sun had hit those eyes

just as it had smacked Lee’s, and her heart felt as though it would

explode if she didn’t do exactly as he said. Just how it felt right

now.

“Are you okay?” Lee asked.

Faith gripped one of the handlebars to steady herself, and said as

calmly as she could, “And they’re just going to let you drive off with

it?”

“My brother runs the place. It’s a demo. We’re officially taking it

for an extended test drive.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Just like fifth grade, there was no

way she could not get on that bike.

“Consider the alternative, and then the idea of your butt on this Honda

starts looking beautiful.” He slid his shades on and flipped his

helmet’s shield down as though putting an exclamation point on this

statement.

Faith slipped on the suit, and with Lee’s help managed to get the

helmet on snugly. He loaded their bags into the Honda’s spacious trunk

and saddle pouches, and Faith climbed on behind him. He started the

engine, gunned it for a moment or so and then hit the gas. When he

released the clutch, the power of the Honda threw Faith back against

the padded bar and she found herself clamping her arms and legs around

Lee and the eight-hundred-pound motorcycle, respectively, as they

rocketed onto Jeff Davis heading south.

She almost jumped off the bike when she heard the voice in her ear.

“Okay, calm down, it’s a Chatterbox helmet-to-helmet audio link,” Lee’s

voice said. He’d obviously felt her shock. “You ever driven down to

your beach house?”

“No, I always flew.”

“That’s okay. I’ve got a map. We’ll take 95 down and pick up

Interstate 64 near Richmond. That’ll get us to Norfolk. We’ll figure

out the best way from there. We’ll grab something to eat on the way.

We should make it before it gets too dark. Okay?”

She found herself nodding and then remembered to say, “Okay.”

“Now, just sit back and relax. You’re in good hands.”

Instead, she leaned into him, circled her arms around his waist and

held tightly. She was suddenly immersed in the recollection of those

divine two months in fifth grade. This had to be an omen. Maybe they

could drive off and never come back. Start at the Outer Banks, hire a

boat and end up on a patch of soil somewhere in the Caribbean no one

had ever been before, a place no one would ever see except for them.

She could learn to keep a hut, cook with coconut milk or whatever they

had there, be a good little homemaker while Lee was off catching fish.

They could make love every night under the moonlight. She leaned

farther into him. None of that sounded bad. Or too far-fetched, under

the circumstances. None of it.

“Oh, and Faith?” Lee said into her ear.

She touched her helmet to his, felt the solid breadth of his torso

against her breasts. She was twenty again, the wind was delicious, the

warmth of the sun inspiring, her greatest worry a midterm exam. A

sudden vision of them lying naked under the sky, skin brown, hair wet,

limbs intertwined, made her wish they weren’t in body suits with thick

zippers, going sixty miles an hour over hard pavement.

“Yes?”

“If you even think about trying to pull another stunt on me like at the

airport, I’ll use those good hands to wring your neck. Understand?”

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