It'd been years that I've been locked away in a small room constantly under Patrick’s supervision. For as cruel and ambitious as Patrick was he wasn’t crazy or adventurous enough to ever have any interest in a vehicle with less than four wheels . He drove me around in a van most times, motorcycles just weren’t something that existed in my world.
Wreck might as well have been an astronaut who was inviting me to ride in his spaceship.
“It’s easy,” Wreck said with a cocky smirk as he put the oversized helmet on me and tightened it as best he could. My eyes barely peeked out. I looked like a little kid in their parent’s clothes. Then with strong arms he easily lifted me onto the back of the bike. I had to pinch the seat with my thighs to keep from falling off. He tied a bandana over his long hair then mounted the bike as well. Before turning the key and starting the engine he added, “Hold onto me tight or else you’ll fly off and die.”
Jesus Christ!
With a lump in my throat I wrapped my arms around his broad chest and prayed. The bike roared to life and settled into a loud steady purr. The engine sent vibrations through my thighs and pussy giving me a thrill that I felt all the way up into my ribs. I didn’t expect just sitting on a bike like this was going to be so…engaging!
Then we took off and the thrill was overwhelming.
He took turns with so much speed and confidence. What was terrifying to me was comfortable – natural- to him. Wreck felt so connected to the bike that, with my eyes closed, it felt like they were one being. In the fairytales I read when I was young, I wondered what it would be like to ride a centaur – half man and half horse. This was the closest I was ever going to get to that I realized.
I squeezed him tight, burying my head in his back and breathing in Wreck’s natural manly scent which now had notes of the bike- gas, oiled metal and singed rubber. I never thought I’d like that cocktail, but I couldn’t get enough of it. Everything was perfect at that moment. I didn’t even mind the stinging ends of his long hair occasionally nipping at my face. It all felt so real, so necessary, and so alive!
I had been sleepwalking through life these past long years but now I was finally awake.
I had no idea where we were going, but I knew it wasn’t another motel. We’d already passed so many for that to be his final destination. If not to some grimy bed somewhere then where were we going?
The disappointment from earlier had all but vanished. Who was this man?
We rode for what felt like lifetimes and after awhile I let myself relax into him and enjoy all the strange and wonderful sensations. I even opened my eyes after awhile and saw the world in a way I never had before.
A car, van, bus, train, etc, were all boxes – cages. A motorcycle was a set of wings. There was nothing in between us and the world. When we got on the highway and zipped passed all the people in four-wheeled cages I felt like I was flying.
I felt like I was free.
The ride was more intoxicating than most drugs I’d tried.
The highway gave way to routes which gave way to back roads and soon enough we were driving through a part of the state I’d never been to. We weren’t in Baltimore anymore, here was far too green and serene for that. We made our way down a long driveway and into a mostly empty parking lot.
Wreck glided to a smooth stop, put down the kickstand and killed the engine. He held a hand out for me to get off and when I did my legs nearly buckled from having to support me again. My whole body buzzed with a combination of residual vibrations from the bike and anxious excitement as to where we were exactly.
The building was fairly large and had a small sign above the main entrance that read Memorial Aviary.
Aviary…
That word was painfully familiar despite knowing that I’d never heard it before. It was like faces in a dream- familiar, but irritatingly elusive when you tried to place who they were. I resolved that I didn’t know the word, but I was content to eventually find out. The building had a zoo-vibe to it and that alone gave me sparks of giddiness. But even still I didn’t dare to dream of actually going in.
There was no way we were here for a nice afternoon. Whores only toured bedrooms. It would be a waste to take us anywhere else when you already knew you were going to get what you wanted out of us.
So why were we here then? Wreck was a criminal. His MC just took down Salamander’s growing operation. Was there someone here that he needed to talk to or something he needed to pick up or drop off? Who could he know way out here?
I reached for my notepad to start asking Wreck questions but he stayed my hand and cocked his head to follow him inside. Confused, but incredibly curious I didn’t protest. One thing I’ve learned in the past few years was that asking questions was dangerous. It was always best to go with whatever was happening and try to adjust along the way.
That was how I stayed alive as long as I did.
I was skeptical when Wreck bought two tickets for us to actually head inside and cautiously I followed closely behind him. It was definitely some kind of zoo, but something was off about it. Immediately my brain switched gears, and I started wondering what he was up to. Was Wreck planning on robbing the place? If so, why keep
