Love don't live here anymore

CHAPTER 17:

Samantha felt like all the oxygen had been removed from the room. A sharp pain in her chest felt like her insides were being ripped apart. Blake made her feel good things. Made her feel alive inside, but she had to let him go. She needed to ensure he was not robbed of his right to live, more than she needed to be selfishly indulgent. She desperately felt the need for some space. She wanted to get on her motor bike and keep on riding until the road came to an end, but she had to put up with bloody Trent.  Perhaps she should check out that factory in Vanderbijlpark.  The R59 route was a beautiful road to open up a motor bike, a definite therapeutic journey to ease her woes.

She hurriedly typed up a schedule and handed it to Trent, informing him she first wanted to stop in Yeoville, then she would head to Vanderbijlpark and also a list of three other sites she wished to visit.  He seemed satisfied that she was no longer blowing any steam. Samantha was about to clip on her helmet, when Trent touched her arm.  She looked up at him lowering her helmet.

'What's going on with you and Blake? He stormed out of here in a huff,' he asked with concern.

'I don't question you about your personal life so butt out,' she warned.

'Sam___' Trent persisted unwisely, 'you were happy and care free when you were with Blake.'

She glared at him icily.

'Don't throw away what you have with Blake, Sam,' he pleaded, 'these past few days you were like the spontaneous Sam I knew when Brad was ___.'

'And where is Brad now?' she yelled, switching on the ignition, and revving on the accelerator, denying Trent any more opportunity to be heard.

Samantha slid into the traffic before Trent could finish clipping on his helmet.

He knew where she was going. She was not going to wait for him.  That was the very reason she gave him the schedule.  She was going to open up this baby to full throttle and forget about Blake.

And damn you Brad, for ___ for___.

For what?  Was it his choice to leave her alone?

Did he ask to be gunned down?

So is she going to stay single and save the world until the day she dies?

Samantha stepped on the accelerator, spotted Trent in the distance, behind her, about six car lengths away. She cut through the traffic, maneuvering through the gaps from one lane to the other. It was a good feeling the wind hitting into her chest, and the speed pumping up her adrenalin.

Samantha slid off her bike. She clipped her helmet onto the handle bar. Her ever observant eyes conducted a clandestine scan of the sleazy area. The air was rancid with a combination of decaying matter, discarded food and urine. It smelt putrid.  Rubbish had not been collected for weeks it seemed. She studied the entrance to the run down hotel. Broken windows on the upper level, drainage pipes almost collapsing, the building had not seen paint in about one hundred years. Just the slum, a skunk like Tobias would favour. Her elbow brushed against her firearm reassuringly. People were streaming in and out.  Some looked like drug pushers, working ladies, clients of working ladies.  How desperate could anybody be to pay to use this filthy excuse for a hotel?  Samantha had almost forgotten about Trent, until she heard him skid and brake next to her.

'Do you have a death wish?' he demanded.

'You're my body guard. Keep up, or get somebody else who is fast enough,' she tossed indifferently.

'Is there anybody who would be able to keep up with you when you ride like a lunatic?' he raised his voice

'You can throw your toys out the cot later, right now I want Tobias,' she stated, her eye trained on the sixth floor balcony.