Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“I know it sounds crazy, Coal, but maybe, if you take a chance and allow me to re-center our alignments, your aura will go from this gray and murky brown shade from the many things you are holding on to into the bright reds where you can live your life passionately.”
Her words strike me deeply. Have I met my match?
My mother used to take me back to the reservation annually when I was growing up. The elders would always smoke their pipes and talk about the stars, the energies, the Great Spirit, Mother Earth, and the beliefs of a time past. Everything in my Native American ancestry was tied to an animal energy; your life source of sorts.
Hard, unyielding, a rock, I am coal. The lion, they always called me, left the pride many years ago before I was even a man. Instead, I have been rock hard in my tolerance of others and dealing with my past.
In an instant, a stranger just called me on far too much without even knowing me. Pixie sees through me in a way no one else has.
I watch as she closes her door, starts her car, and drives away, leaving me standing near my motorcycle and wondering if I’m still in the middle of the tornado that is Paisley Asher, or if the pixie sprinkled some magic dust over me and somehow read my every secret in less than five minutes.
It takes a lot to knock a man like me on his ass. Pixie may have just done it.
I can only stand here, feeling like, in one day, everything somehow has started to change.
~Paisley~
A bit dejected, I drive back to my place, all the while thinking about the man on the motorcycle who wouldn’t give me a chance to rebalance both our chi’s. I know he can’t see it, but surely, he feels the tension that runs through his core. The lights and emotions radiating off of him are all dark. Only, they aren’t dark in an evil way like he’s a bad person. His darkness, I sense, derives from holding on to negatives in his life.
Most people love riding motorcycles because of the freedom of the open air. I have read it in many books and listened to Des and Morgan go on and on about the feel of the wind when they ride with their men.
Then, an epiphany hits me, and I can hear Des’s voice in my head. “Honey, I live with a biker…”
Des! I can call her to find out if she knows anything about my badass biker!
Picking up my cell phone, I wait until I stop at a red light to pull up her name on my contact list and call her. The phone rings four times before she finally picks it up.
“Hello?” she asks breathlessly.
A smile spreads across my face at the tone of her voice. “Was I interrupting something?”
Des giggles on the other end. “No, not really. Hammer was just giving me a very thorough good-bye kiss. What’s up, honey?”
“Speaking of Hammer,” I mumble awkwardly, “I was wondering if either of you know a biker named Coal? I know it probably seems crazy that I’m asking you about random bikers, but—”
“Why are you asking about Coal, Paisley?” Des’s voice is suddenly the epitome of seriousness.
Taken aback by her change in tone, I get a little flustered. “Well, I sort of ran into him today. As in, literally … with my car … while he was on his bike.”
“What!” Des yells into my ear. “Is he all right?”
Now I find myself all but shaking. I’m flustered, annoyed, and feeling guilty. I hit the man on his motorcycle with my car! Sure, it was just a bump and I was going slow, but seriously, I hit him with my car, and he wants to shrug it off like it happens all the time.
Nothing is chance. Everything has a purpose and reason. There was a significance to me crashing into him. We have been brought together, and until things are sorted, neither of us will feel balanced.
I felt something, sensed his pain, and my heart longs to heal him. His energy pulled at me. Yellow, it’s my color. Healing. Everything inside of me screams to lay my hands on his temples and center him.
Living down the rabbit hole of depression, as I refer to it, I remember wishing I could see some light at the top. I longed for someone to stand up with a rope and pull me out. Something tells me that Coal needs someone at the top of his rabbit hole to pull him into the light and help him let go of whatever holds him back.
Pulling my car into the parking lot of my apartment complex, I put it in park and try to calm Des and myself down. “He’s fine, he’s fine. I swear, Des! I stopped to check on him and everything!”