“Damnit!!” she yells and kicks her left front tire. A good inch is spread over the road, flattened by the weight of the car. “It’s flat. It’s flat, of course it’s flat! This is the last thing I need right now.”
“I’ll get you home.”
“How?”
I nod my head in the direction of my bike. She follows me down the path to where my baby waits.
“Uh, no. I’m not getting on that death trap.”
“Thought you were fearless,” I say, throwing her a grin.
“I’ve only been on a bike one other time. It was back in my sophomore year of college, and let me just say it was a harrowing experience I’m not ready to relive. Live being the operative word.”
“Well, I’ve been driving this thing a long time and haven’t died yet. Where are we headed?”
She just continues to glare at me, then states, “106 Hastings Drive.”
“Fancy. Why am I not surprised?”
She rubs her forehead, then growls, stepping toward me.
“Here. Take your time,” I say, as she straddles the bike. “Let me help you get settled.” She lets me guide her shoes onto the passenger footrests. I put my spare helmet on her, watching as she leans back and white knuckles the back rim of the bike seat.
I swing onto the bike, grinning as I feel the waves of agitation from behind. “I suggest you hold onto me, sugar. You’re in for one hell of a ride.”
She moves closer, pressing her breasts into my back, and wraps her arms around my waist.
“Just make sure you don’t kill us,” she says to me like it’s my first time.
As I start the motor and shift into gear, she gives me a quick squeeze, feeling the vibration. Her body becomes less rigid as we coast along.
I slow, pulling up to the gate where she punches in the code. A neighbor stares as we roar past, then steps to the curb to get a better view.
Lizzie holds her head like a queen on parade, ignoring the looks as she digs for her keys and presses a button to open the garage. I appreciate the gesture. I get off first and set the stand, then give her a hand.
“Wasn’t too bad, right?”
She hands me the other helmet and I get them put up.
“Nope. Not bad at all.” She opens the door from the garage and walks me through a narrow hallway that comes to a mudroom. On the other side it opens up into a wide family room. “This is home.” She leaves me to take in the view and a moment later the lights in the kitchen flip on. “You want a beer?”
“Sure.”
I walk around assessing the space. For it being in such a fancy neighborhood, there’s not a lot of flash on the inside. I walk to the mantle above the fireplace and pick up the family photo. Seeing this frame of her life is interesting. Something about her, even then, appears to be lost.
She returns with a two cold bottles of brew and sets them on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Might as well make yourself at home.”
I set the photo back down and circle the couch to sit beside her.
“Thanks.” I pick it up and take a long pull from the bottle, while she takes small deliberate sips from hers.
The air is thick with tension and it’ll take a while for the drinks to kick in, so I decide to make small talk.
“You should consider yourself lucky.” I take another swig. “Few outsiders get a glimpse inside our space.”
“I guess it’s hard for me to wrap my brain around it.”
“Maybe because you were sheltered. I take it you haven’t spent much time around your own kind.” My mouth is running on a faster speed than my mind, but she doesn’t make a move to get away from me.
Instead she settles those long legs of hers under her and makes herself comfortable on the sofa.
“Explain something to me. How did you get caught up with a group of men like that?”
“Huh.” I reach a hand up to scratch at the top of my head. I haven’t stopped to think about that meeting for a long time. “What you’d expect. I was a young kid on his own with nobody. I didn’t choose the club. I’d say the club chose me. I ran into Ace at the shop and he invited me to go on a run with him.”
Now, as I take myself back, the memory makes me smile. “Just being with Ace made me feel like a badass by association, but he knew I had no idea what being a member of the MC truly meant. So, he took me out to meet them, sat me down, and told me not to be a fool. What happens in the club isn’t for everyone.” I tap the edge of my bottle, musing. “It’s more than a jacket or a piece of material that says you belong. It comes with a price. Some days there may be some crazy shit that goes down that either buys you a one-way ticket to jail or the morgue.” Her beautiful brown eyes keep focused on me, taking it all in while I explain further. “The talk didn’t scare me off. He promised that in exchange for my loyalty there is an unbreakable brotherhood. I never had that before. A sense of oneness. My old man used to get drunk and take turns knocking all of us around. So, where else could I go and find someone willing to put their life on the line for me? After that run, I started probating a week or so later and now here I am.”
“That makes sense,” she says, but I
