Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

He sped around a bend, we leaned, and I could almost feel
the ground an inch under my leg. I couldn’t stop myself. “I’m
gonna fall!” I cried out. “Stop, please!”
And he did. He slowed and halted, and as if by magic,
everything was quiet again.
I didn’t let him go.
“This is black,” he said. “Fear, falling, release. Excitement,
risk, danger.”
I sat there, hugging him and trying to figure out if I liked it
or not. It scared me just like he did when he broke into the
house last week. I hated that, but… I didn’t really hate it
anymore. Probably because I wasn’t as scared of him
anymore. It was fear in a controlled environment. The
motorcycle wasn’t.
Or maybe I just needed to try it again.
“I won’t let you go ag—” He stopped and evened out his
voice. “I won’t let you go,” he said. “Hold on.”
I inhaled a shaky breath and readied myself for another go.
And when the bike shot off again, I lifted my head, making
myself not hide from it.
He won’t let me go. He won’t let me go.
The wind cut my face, and I closed my eyes to keep them
from watering. After a moment, I found my body molded to
his and moved with it as he turned and leaned, sped and broke,
and it was like we were one rider.
When he leaned, and I thought we were going to fall, I
squeezed my eyes shut and stopped breathing, letting him
handle the bike and me and carrying us around in one piece.
When it happened again, I eased my muscles a little more,
trusting him and letting him do it. I tipped my head back,
feeling the wind and my body move with his, no longer
needing to squeeze him so tightly.
I wanted to go all night now, because for the first time in
forever, I was seeing things again. And just because I’d lost
my sight didn’t mean that I needed to fear getting lost.