an then..:
“”Do you want to kill yourself, then? Is that what this is about?” the other voice spoke again,
his tone severe.
I smiled tightly–it was still working–and ignored the questions. Jacob wasn't going to let
anything serious happen to me.
“Go home to Charlie,” the voice ordered. The sheer beauty of it amazed me. I couldn't allow
my memory to lose it, no matter the price.
“Ease off slowly,” Jacob encouraged me.
“I will,” I said. It bothered me a bit when I realized I was answering both of them.
The voice in my head growled against the roar of the motorcycle.
Trying to focus this time, to not let the voice startle me again, I relaxed my hand by tiny
degrees. Suddenly, the gear caught and wrenched me forward.
And I was flying.
There was wind that wasn't there before, blowing my skin against my skull and flinging my
hair back behind me with enough force that it felt like someone was tugging on it. I'd left my
stomach back at the starting point; the adrenaline coursed through my body, tingling in my
veins. The trees raced past me, blurring into a wall of green.
But this was only first gear. My foot itched toward the gearshift as I twisted for more gas.
“No, Bella!” the angry, honey-sweet voice ordered in my ear. “Watch what you're doing!”
It distracted me enough from the speed to realize that the road was starting a slow curve to
the left, and I was still going straight. Jacob hadn't told me how to turn.
“Brakes, brakes,” I muttered to myself, and I instinctively slammed down with my right foot,
like I would in my truck.
The bike was suddenly unstable underneath me, shivering first to one side and then the other.
It was dragging me toward the green wall, and I was going too fast. I tried to turn the
handlebar the other direction, and the sudden shift of my weight pushed the bike toward the
ground, still spinning toward the trees.
The motorcycle landed on top of me again, roaring loudly, pulling me across the wet sand
until it hit something stationary. I couldn't see. My face was mashed into the moss. I tried to
lift my head, but there was something in the way.
I was dizzy and confused. It sounded like there were three things snarling–the bike over me,
the voice in my head, and something else…”