Chapter 19: The Speed of a Sleeping Dog

Dean's POV

The apartment had white walls and one window that looked at a parking structure.

I carried in four boxes and a lamp on Saturday afternoon.

Then I stood in the middle of the living room, because I did not own a chair.

I had signed the lease in twenty minutes.

I had signed the deed in front of a notary in less.

That night I slept on the floor on a camping pad.

I woke at five with my back stiff and my phone in my hand.

There was no message from anyone.

I had wanted one badly, and I was glad there wasn't.

On Saturday of the next week, I got my bike off the rack of my truck at the foot of a gravel trail outside town.

It was the trail I had ridden for two years with Brynn, three hours at a time, always chasing her wheel.

I had told myself it was exercise.

I clipped in and started.

I rode at a pace I had never tried.

I rode so slowly the bike wobbled.

My legs wanted to push, because they were trained to push.

I kept my hands loose and my gear low and let the trail take as long as it took.

At mile two, a couple with a toddler in a trailer passed me.

At mile four I was sweating through my jersey.

The long climb ahead of me looked like what it was, a hill.

I got off and walked.

I thought about the kitchen, and the thing I had said there.

Your fitness isn't anywhere near ours. You'd only hold us back.

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