Misadventures of a Biker

by Scott Hildreth

  He swallowed heavily. “I don’t have it with me.”

  “I’ll wait until you do.”

  “I can’t. There’s no way I can get it right now.”

  I gestured to the couch with the pistol’s barrel. “Have a seat.”

  He flopped onto the couch. I took his phone from the end table and put it in my front pocket. After taking a seat across from him, I warned him of what the future held.

  “I’m not going to give you a month, a week, or even a day to get the money. If I don’t have it by noon tomorrow, you’ll be in the Naples Daily News headlines as being murdered by a burglar. You may speak if you think it’ll help you explain this matter.”

  He drew a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “I can get the money, but it won’t be easy.”

  “I don’t give a fuck how you get it,” I said. “But you need to have it by noon, tomorrow. That, Britt, is not negotiable.”

  He sighed. “I can have it by noon.”

  He was lying, and I was sure of it. There was a way to extract the truth. It was time for me to play that card.

  “Let’s hope for your mother’s sake that you’re right.” I coughed a dry laugh and gave him a sinister look. “Oh, shit. I left that part out, didn’t I?”

  His eyes widened with wonder.

  I reached into my left pocket, removed a small sheet of folded paper, and unfolded it. “Katherine Denton, 11725 Peachtree, Tampa, Florida.” I looked up. “Wasn’t easy finding her, as your last names don’t coincide with one another. She fits into this scenario as well. I’ve got someone sitting outside her place now. I can’t believe I left that out. You’ve probably never done anything like this, but it’s not as easy as you’d think. There’s always something you forget. It’s got to be the overabundance of adrenaline.”

  “Before you shoot me,” he blurted, “I didn’t lie.”

  “About?”

  “The money’s upstairs,” he said. “I didn’t tell you it wasn’t here. I said I didn’t have it. I don’t. It’s upstairs.”

  I waved the pistol’s barrel toward the staircase.

  Ten minutes later, I had seven hundred and forty thousand dollars in my backpack, and Britt was seated at his desk typing a letter of apology.

  “I don’t need details,” I said. “I need it to be brief, to the point, and for you to fully admit what you did was planned and not a mistake.”

  He typed the letter, printed it, and handed it to me.

  Teddi,

  I can’t apologize enough for what I have done to you. My decision to swindle you out of your money was done out of greed and nothing else.

  The passing of time has forced me to dwell on the decision I made and on the damage that it has likely done to your psyche to have lost so much without knowledge of the truth.

  Guilt now forces me to return your initial investment. Please consider my apology as being heartfelt.

  My sincere apologies,

  Britt

  “Add a sentence that says, ‘Considering all things, please make no effort to contact me regarding this matter or for any other reason. I will extend the same consideration to you,’ or something like that.”

  Upon reading the amended letter, I folded it neatly. “My work’s done here. Don’t forget what I told you. Talk to the cops, or anyone for that matter, and your mother—and you—will be killed.”

  “Understood.”

  “Like the letter says, make no efforts to contact Teddi again,” I said. “Period. If you have a deal that involves her, send one of your underlings. If you walk through the threshold of her office door again, you’ll find the barrel of this pistol in your mouth.”

  “I’ll avoid her,” he said. “Believe me.”

  I’d been in similar situations several times in my life. I had a knack for knowing when someone was telling the truth and when someone was lying. He was telling the truth.

  “I strongly suggest you find another way to supplement your income,” I said. “If you keep this up, you never know who you might piss off.”

  I placed the box on Teddi’s porch and rang the doorbell. After ten minutes, I rang it again. Five minutes later, I rang it repeatedly.

  From behind her neighbor’s shrubs, I waited with bated breath.

  The porch light illuminated. The door opened. Her eyes shot to the box. She then searched the dark neighborhood with her eyes, looking for who might have left it. After seeing no one, she opened the box and peered inside.

  She removed the letter and read it. She lifted the newspaper that covered the money. Following another quick scan of the neighborhood, she went inside and shut the door.

  I felt terrible for postponing the resolution of the issue. As important as it was to Teddi, I couldn’t force myself to proceed any sooner than I had. I knew myself well enough to know the negotiation could have easily turned violent. Taking that risk wasn’t something I was willing to do.

  I now looked at matters completely differently. Not because of my newfound freedom.

  Because things had changed.

  Chapter Thirty

  Teddi

  I turned the corner onto Herb’s street. Upon seeing his home, I gasped. Kate’s Lexus, Rhea’s SUV, Evelyn’s Saturn, Janine’s Jag, and Vinnie’s Cadillac were all parked in front of the house.

  I hadn’t seen Devin in three days. We were supposed to have Sunday dinner with Herb and retire early, as Devin’s stomach was still bothering him. My heart palpitated as I crept closer to the home. The only reason I could think of why Devin would want such a gathering was to announce having been released from the federal government’s custody.

  If that were the case, I feared he’d soon be leaving. For good.

  We had yet to discuss his intentions at length. It was easy, however, to see where his heart was. When he so much as saw other motorcycles, his eyes lit up with a passion like no other.

  With reluctance, I parked my SUV. Following a silent prayer, I got out and walked to the door. It opened before I knocked.

  Herb answered. He opened his arms wide, offering a hug. He looked like he’d been crying. My bottom lip quivered in anticipation of what was undoubtedly headed my direction.

  I hugged him, holding the embrace for longer than I probably should have. I’d become accustomed to our Sunday dinners together and viewed us as a family. I wondered if Herb would consider allowing me to come after Devin’s departure. I decided asking would be out of place.

  He looked me in the eyes when I broke the embrace.

  “Have you been crying?” I asked. “You look like—”

  He wiped his eyes. “Is it obvious?”

  “Oh my God,” I breathed in an uneven voice. “Herb…is… Is everything okay?”

  “I can’t speak for anyone other than my damned self,” he said. “I think I’ll be just goddamned fine. Come in, sweetheart.”

  I stepped inside and scanned the living room. Standing between Kate and Vinnie was a handsome man with a deep tan and shoulder-length hair. I nearly started blubbering at the thought of Kate being in a relationship and me loving a man who lived on the other side of the state.

  I stumbled throughout the house looking for Devin, only to find that he wasn’t in attendance. According to Herb, he was taking care of some last-minute affairs before dinner.

  Rhea stood over the stove with Evelyn at her side. The smell of her native cuisine hung in the air like a heavenly fog. I meandered to her side.

  “Do you know what’s going on?” I asked.

  “I was told Devin has an announcement he’s going to make,” she said. “That’s all I know. Herb said he wanted everyone he’s been working with to be here for dinner. I volunteered to cook at the last minute.”

  “Where’s Devin?” I asked.

  She stirred a boiling pot. “I think he’s in Miami.”

  My heart sank into the pit of my stomach. “Miami?” I asked, nearly bringing myself to tears. “Are you sure?”

  “Pretty sure,” she replied.
“I heard Vinnie talking to Kate’s boyfriend. Why?”

  “I was just…” I swallowed against the bile that rose into my throat. “Wondering.”

  The thought of living without Devin was crippling. Just a day earlier, Britt had returned my money, along with a letter of apology admitting what he’d done wrong. I wanted to tell Devin in person but now wondered if it would even be possible.

  Be it the spices in the air, the fact that Devin was with his MC, or that I didn’t have a single picture of us together, I’d never know. But I began to softly cry and had to excuse myself to the bathroom.

  I stared in the mirror and wondered how I’d allowed myself to make such a mistake. No matter how many times I went over it in my head, I couldn’t force myself to believe anything I’d done should have been done differently. I had no regrets.

  Only heartache.

  After wiping my tears and fixing my makeup, I checked myself in the mirror. I looked like a blond raccoon. Frustrated that I’d be incapable of masquerading my sadness, I dabbed concealer under my eyes.

  The wall-mounted mirror began to shake. The faucet followed. A horrendous thunder began to shake the floor beneath my feet.

  The sky was clear when I showed up. It was only fitting that a hurricane would crop up out of nowhere and ruin the evening for everyone else.

  I burst from the bathroom, certain the end was imminent.

  The thunderous noise grew louder with each passing second. By the time I’d reached the living room, the entire group was gathered at the window, peering outside.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, still standing in the hallway, petrified. “What’s happening?”

  Vinnie stepped to the side, giving me a view of what they were gawking at. I wouldn’t have guessed it could get worse, but it did.

  Instantly.

  Motorcycles lined both sides of the street. Tattooed men in black vests dismounted their Harleys and hugged one another, slapped each other’s backs, and extinguished their cigarettes.

  I watched with balled fists as dozens upon dozens of men filtered toward the door. In the middle of the crowd, one stood out above all the rest. I almost didn’t recognize him, as he was wearing his motorcycle gang’s leather vest.

  Devin.

  It was apparent his decision was made. Anger built within me until I shook.

  The door opened. One by one, leather-clad bikers entered the home. The smell of cowhide, gasoline, and adrenaline wafted past me.

  As soon as Devin cleared the doorway, I pushed my way through the crowd. When our eyes met, he looked away. If I learned nothing else from Devin, I learned to be myself. Biting my tongue wasn’t an option.

  “Really?” I spat. “Really?”

  Standing nervously beside two of his MC brethren, he pushed his hands into his pockets. Seeing the patches on the front of his vest—BONE and SERGEANT AT ARMS—made me want to vomit. The battle for his heart had been won, and it was clear I wasn’t the victor.

  “Teddi, wait,” he said. “I can explain.”

  “If you’ve got something to say, say it,” I snapped back. “I’m not interested in doing this.”

  He pushed his way through the crowd. “Doing what?”

  “These people. All these people.” My eyes welled with tears. “Is this necessary?”

  He stepped in front of me. “I needed the men—”

  “Fuck them,” I blurted. “What about me? I love you, Devin.”

  Confusion washed over him. “I love you, too.”

  “Then why?” I asked.

  “Teddi—”

  “Why?” I demanded, sputtering like a child. “Why all the people? Just to tell me you’re leaving?”

  “Will you let me talk?”

  I shot him a glare. “Talk.”

  “I had an announcement to make,” he said nervously. “Like it or not, these men are my family. I wanted them to be here to—”

  “Make it,” I demanded.

  He gave me a look. “Excuse me?”

  “Just say it,” I said, cocking my hip. “Have the guts to say it.”

  “Right now?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and gave a nod. “Right fucking now,” I said, not bothering to wipe away the tear that trickled down my cheek.

  “Tank!” he bellowed, turning his head to the side. “Front and center!”

  Frank shoved his way through the crowd. Devin turned around and whispered something. Frank extended his clenched fist. Devin pounded his knuckles against Frank’s before facing me.

  “I’m sorry for the confusion,” Devin said. “I haven’t been sick for the past few days. I’ve been busy getting things in order. A lot has happened. I’ve decided to make some changes.”

  It was painfully obvious he was making changes. I needed to know exactly what they were. It was the only way I could come close to forgiving myself for falling head-over-heels for a man who was married to a motorcycle gang.

  “What are they?” I asked.

  “I’m turning in my kutte,” he said.

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “I’m quitting the club,” he explained. “No more MC.”

  The truth was miles from reality. My lips parted slightly. I wanted to apologize for my preconceived notions but couldn’t get my thick tongue to cooperate.

  “I’m getting my Realtor’s license,” he continued. He reached behind his back. Smiling, Frank the Tank handed him something. Devin clasped his open palm over his clenched fist. “I’d like for you to answer a question.”

  I mouthed the word okay.

  “A life without you in it isn’t one I want to live.” He opened his hand. The ring from Dunkin’s Diamonds glistened in his flattened palm. “Will you end a lifetime of misery and agree to marry me?”

  My knees buckled. While thirty onlookers waited for my response, I stumbled toward the bathroom like a drunken sailor.

  Herb caught me before I tumbled to the floor. He held me upright. “Damn it, woman,” he said. “Say something.”

  I’d waited a lifetime for the moment to arrive, and it was now before me. I swallowed a ball of nervous apprehension and met Devin’s curious gaze.

  “Yes,” I said. “I will.”

  Devin slipped the ring onto my finger. A nervous sigh escaped him. “I was beginning to wonder.”

  “You’re not the only one,” Herb chimed.

  Devin and I embraced in a kiss. When our lips parted, my tear-filled eyes scanned the crowd. Smiles, tears, laughter, and raised fists—many of which were covered with tattoos—filled the living room.

  It was an eclectic group to say the least, but they were now my family.

  A family I was proud to call my own.

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I must thank my awesome wife, Jessica. Wearing a drab olive jacket and a toothy smile, she wandered into a donut shop one evening. With her big blond hair, height-challenged frame, and perfectly applied makeup, she scanned the establishment, looking for a place to sit down. A real-life biker who’d recently been released from federal prison offered her a seat. She took a chance and sat next to the tattooed hooligan. We are now living our happily ever after together, in Naples, Florida.

  Additionally, I’d like to give mention to my mother, Anita Hildreth. Her lifelong passion has been to be a writer, but she’s never taken the time to pursue her dreams. She’s expressed pride in me for doing so and encouraged me to continue when things were bleak. Thank you, Mom, for being you.

  My late father, David Hildreth, was a former marine and a man’s man. He cried upon reading my first book. At the time, I couldn’t recall ever seeing him cry. The tears he shed and the words he spoke as a result of that novel fueled me to continue my quest to publish a book traditionally. Thanks, Pop. I hope I’ve made you proud.

  My brother and late sister also deserve thanks for simply putting up with me for all these years. *tips hat* Thanks, you two, for never giving up on me (when many would have).

/>   To my six children who have sacrificed so much as I work countless hours polishing my manuscripts, I can’t help but offer a heartfelt thank you. The missed time together, the cancelled trips to the beach, and the days that you waited for me to finish one more chapter—only to find out that it wasn’t complete until long after you went to bed—I must apologize for. Erin, Alec, Derek, Landon, Lily, and Charlee, you are my world. It may not always seem like it, but you are.

  Without the encouragement of my former employer, David Bowlin, I never would have begun to write. He provided the means for me to pen my first book. Dave, I can’t thank you enough. It seems you’ve stepped into my life on each occasion when things aren’t as they should be, providing guidance along a path much more desirable than the one I’ve chosen. Thank you isn’t enough, but it’s all I have.

  Lastly, to Meredith Wild. Thank you for taking the chance. To the editor, Scott Saunders, I extend my hand. Thank you. I’m not the easiest author to work with, and you did so with a professional posture that didn’t include any requests that I took exception to. You’re a class act, sir.

  For now, that’s all I’ve got.

  Until next time…

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