Sitting at the light outside of Hooters, I watched Gray get on the back of his motorcycle. I couldn't believe he was dumb enough to ride in the condition he was in, or that no one had stopped him. When the light turned green, and I turned toward home, he pulled off and settled in behind us. Keeping my eyes on him and the road without alerting Annie or Lissa was proving to be difficult. Annie had just stopped crying, but I could still hear her sniffles, and Lissa hadn't said a word since I'd found them in the kitchen.
There wasn't a safe way to ride drunk, it was even more dangerous than driving drunk. At least in a car, there was a layer of metal to act as a shield between your body and the asphalt, not so with a bike. I kept my speed to a minimum in an effort to keep him from going any faster. I shouldn't care if he smeared his brains across the interstate, but at this point, I just wanted to be home.