What Doesn't Destroy Us

by M. N. Forgy

  Pacing and arguing with myself isn't solving anything, though, so I finally decide I've somehow been brain washed and clearly do not want Shadow and his scandalous ways in spite of my attraction. Besides, I hear a lot of commotion outside and my naturally nosy self can't resist the temptation to find out what's going on.

  Walking outside to the garage, I see some guys pulling out a black bike. I stop to admire the sleek, sexy lines and imagine myself on it for just a second.

  “That’s the bike the club's donating for the charity,” Shadow says from behind me, scaring the shit out of me. “It’s a Bobber; not my favorite bike, but it will do. The auction is in an hour.” I can only scowl at him, my body still wound up and tight from the games he played last night. But when I see the sincere joy in his face, my anger melts away. Right on cue, my body starts heating up and flashbacks from last night assail my mind. I’m like a dog in heat, sheesh.

  I notice I'm playing with my lip and dart my hands to my side, he makes me nervous clearly. “Oh, I thought it was a Harley. Aren’t they the best bikes?” I know nothing about motorcycles, only what I've seen in commercials about Harley's and overheard guys at my college say about them being so great.

  He clutches his chest with both of his hands and gasps. “A woman after my own heart. Have you ever been on a bike?” His tone seems boyish instead of rugged and dark for a change. He is cute, getting all excited talking about motorcycles.

  “Unless you mean a bicycle, no. I live in New York; we take taxis everywhere.” I say, smiling.

  He grabs my hand and pulls me away from the garage toward the parking lot; toward a different black bike. This one has silver lines all over the gas tank that look like shadows sweeping over a black darkness. I love it.

  “This is my bike. It’s a Dyna Super Glide.” Seeing the confusion on my face, he continues, “This is a Harley. She takes whatever I give her and doesn’t bitch. She’s the perfect girlfriend.” He's smiling from ear to ear. “Let’s go for a ride and I'll show you why they are the best bikes. The auction is pretty boring; they won’t miss us.” He winks, making fireworks go off in my gut.

  “Here’s a helmet, put it on.” He hands me a black helmet. He’s not joking; he wants me to ride that thing.

  “I don’t know, my mom would kill me if she found out,” I reply unsure. I know my mother would have a stroke if she saw me climbing on the back of a bike, especially with anyone but Bull. But who am I kidding, Shadow is very alluring and telling him no is not an option; and do I really want to tell him no?

  “No she won’t. She’ll kill me.” He tilts his head, cocking his eyebrow, and gives me a megawatt smile. “Besides, you know you want to.” He is so cocky, and as self-assured as ever. But he is right; I want to get on that bike with him.

  Getting close to Shadow is like playing with fire, but I guess I’m a fire bug because I grab the helmet and put it on my head. The mere thought of going against my mother’s wishes is a rush, but the thought of having Shadow between my legs is intoxicating.

  He laces the strap under my chin, rubbing one of his calloused fingers across my lips. I forget everything as I stare into those stormy eyes. He shakes his head, as if to clear whatever thought was racing through that gorgeous head of his and effortlessly throws a leg over the bike to start it. It roars to life. The rumble thunders off the ground, up through my boots and in between my legs. Who knew a motorcycle could be such a turn on.

  I climb on behind Shadow unsure of where to put my hands. I place them behind me first, then on my thighs. He turns to the side with a smile and reaches back. He pulls my arms around his toned waist forcing my body close to his. I can feel his rock hard back against my breasts. My nipples harden on contact. The mixture of pain and pleasure make my breathing quicken and I just want to rip his shirt off and feel his bare chest.

  “You have to touch me to ride: but you're safe with me,” he says, snapping me from my X-rated thoughts. “Hold on tight, I like to go fast.” My arms and legs tighten around him as he speeds off. He wasn’t lying when he said he likes to go fast. He said I am safe with him and I feel safe; with his driving that is. Anything else, I am sure he will trample on, like my heart.

  The warm breeze caresses my skin. It makes me feel free; independently free. Shadow's scent fills my lungs; I'm not used to his masculine smell. I lay my head against his back and inhale; not knowing if I will ever be this close to him again. His reactions to me are so unpredictable I don’t know what to make of them. He reaches back and rests his hand on the side of my thigh. His touch causes my suspicious thoughts to resurface. Would he just throw me away like a used condom when he is finished with me? Yet even confused, I can't get the thought of having his hands all over my naked body out of my mind. I bet he is dynamite in bed. I'm sure he has been with countless women; just the thought of it makes me uneasy. I don’t know why, he isn't mine to lay claim to. Still the thought makes me want to claw my eyes out. I hate how he affects me, I have never doubted myself before, yet here I am punishing myself for not being the ideal girl for Shadow. I'm probably way too inexperienced for a dangerous man like him.

  We pull into a parking lot with a sign that says 'Santa Monica Beach'. A breeze flows over us as we park; it smells salty and wet. It smells like a new beginning. Nothing of the past twenty-four hours would have been allowed into my past life. Nothing has prepared me for this emotional roller coaster. I breathe deep and feel my walls of isolation tumbling down. Looking at the physical beauty of Shadow, my spirits soar.

  “The beach? Is this where you take all the girls that climb on the back of your bike?” I tease. I shake my head as I remove the helmet allowing my hair to ripple its way down my shoulder and onto my chest. It doesn’t sit there long as the breeze sweeps it off my chest and slaps it around my face.

  “Actually, I have never had a female on the back of my bike before,” he says as he places our helmets on the bike. The expression on his face shows he is both amazed and bewildered by his actions. I look at him in confusion; what did he mean by that, and why was I the first to ride on his bike?

  He snaps out of his vulnerable state by running his dexterous fingers through his flawless hair. My fingers twitch at the temptation to grab hold of those gorgeous locks. “Women usually come to me. Besides, if I want a girl I just take her, no questions,” he says assuredly, his tone serious. I roll my eyes and am reminded of why I should stay away from him.

  We walk onto the beach. I can feel him staring at my back side as I walk in front of him so I sway my curvaceous hips, taunting him. I hear him literally growl in response, making me bite my lips to stifle my laughter. We sit down on the warm sandy beach within inches of each other. He leans back on his elbows, lifting one hand to ruffle the top of his thick black hair. Goddamn he is sex on a stick, and I want to eat, lick, and touch that stick. My hand burns at the thought of tugging his hair, while our bodies are in a sexual embrace. I shift my position, trying to overcome the throbbing in my panties. Embarrassed, my cheeks flush crimson red. I know he can't read my thoughts, but having such a naughty imagination is totally out of my norm.

  “So, are you and your mother close?” he asks, snapping me from my kinky daydream.

  “Eh, not really. When I was younger we were, but over the past few years we have grown apart. She works a lot, and when she’s not working she’s with Stevin.” He nods his head in understanding, urging me to continue. “I mean, we live together, but we are usually doing our own things separately.” I dig my hands into the sand to keep them occupied or I might just start groping the man.

  “So you live with your mom? How old are you?” he asks, incredibly.

  I don’t laugh, or smirk back. The situation with my mother is more than embarrassing. She is the biggest manipulator I know. She keeps me tucked within arm’s reach and won't let me leave the nest or do anything on my own. It's like she’s keeping me for some reason, but I have not a clue why.

  “It’s complicated,” I reply, looking away.r />
  “Nah, I get it. One look at your mom and I can tell she’s a raging bitch on a mission,” he comforts. “You in school or anything?” he asks, genially curious.

  I sigh heavily. School; another burden my mother forces onto me.

  “Well, I’m working on a generic bachelors right now because I'm not sure what I want to do after that. My mom keeps pushing for all these careers like Law Enforcement Officer or Lawyer, but they aren’t for me.

  “That’s crazy; she really is trying to push you in the opposite direction of your father,” Shadow replies, shaking his head. “So what is for you then?” he asks, tilting his head, his eyes piercing me.

  I half laugh, realizing I'm telling him more than I want to.

  “Okay.” he says, noticing I'm not answering that question. “Tell me this, is some stuffy businessman wondering where his gal up and left to? What about your friends?” He looks at me with hooded eyes.

  How should I respond to that? Even if I say I am seeing someone, it won't stop him if I'm on his radar of future bed notches.

  “My mom never liked my taste in men, she always chased them off. She can be fierce when she wants to be.” I smile, not answering yes or no. “As for friends, I have a few, but no one close.” I doubt they even realize I left.

  I feel the hair on my neck rise and my heart beat accelerate. “Why are you staring at me like that?” I ask, before looking at him, uncomfortable under that dark gaze of his.

  He smiles, looking down at the sand before lifting his head and catching me with those smoldering eyes. The tenderness I see there makes my heart catch fire.

  “You always play with your lip when you're nervous?” he asks. I drop my hands and sigh at myself. I have been around this man for five minutes and he knows my tics; been around my mother my whole life and she has never noticed. “So, what are your plans now?”

  Haven’t we talked about me enough? I sigh heavily. “I have no idea. After seeing how the other half of me lives, I’m confused on what lies in my future.”

  “What do you mean?” He throws a sea shell out into the water, making his arm muscles flex. My lips part and heavy breaths escape. I remember him grabbing me off the bed at the clubhouse like I was a toy, weighing nothing. He turns and looks at me again with those heavy blue eyes, then throws me that cocky grin of his. He knows what he is doing, damn him.

  “Uh.” I pause, trying to remember what the question is. “I mean, I did everything my mother asked without question. She wanted me to stay on some righteous 'path' of hers, never thinking about what I might want. I didn’t go against her because she was my mother. I thought this path was for me to have a good future and because she cared. After seeing the bigger picture, though, I think this 'path' is a silent battle my mother has had with my father the whole time.” I pause and close my eyes. “I know that sounds like a whiny little princess,” I confess, feeling just that way.

  He smiles and grabs my hand off the sandy beach, giving it a light squeeze. Even this tender touch makes butterflies swarm in my lower abdomen. This simple gesture says he can relate with being damaged; torn. Shadow is making it so easy to open up to him, which is dangerous. Revealing my vulnerabilities is making me feel close to him, something I know he wants nothing of. I need to reverse the tables on these questions, and fast. He is a player, and he is playing the game very well. I’m not used to someone laying on the charm so thick; I fall under his spell easily.

  I lift my eyebrow inquisitively and pull my hand from his. My hand turns cold instantly wanting his touch back. “What’s your thing, Shadow? I ask, mocking him from his earlier question.

  “Heh, besides the club, you don’t wanna know,” he says, cynically.

  Not sure if he’s talking about drugs, or women, or something darker, I turn my head away from him. “Yuck, no I don’t,” I reply, earning a chuckle form him.

  “Club life, baby,” he says flippantly. Is it sad I want to be part of his club life? Actually, no I don’t, I just want Shadow.

  “So what about you, how did you land in a motorcycle club?” I ask, trying to get off the topic of him being a whore.

  “'Nother time,” he says, standing up. Wait, what?

  “What, seriously? I just spilled my whole life story and I don’t get anything from you?” I stand up placing my hands on my hips. If he thinks he is not going to tell me something about himself, he’s mistaken.

  “I just don’t open myself up to others, Dani,” he replies honestly, with sorrow in his voice. Obviously someone had hurt him in the past and it haunted him.

  “I didn’t say you had to tell me all your secrets and marry me, but I would like to know something about you. Can’t friends talk?” His eyes widen when I say friends. Was wanting to be his friend crossing the line? I want him to open up to me, I want to know everything about him, honestly. He stands there searching my face, I feel like I’m naked when he stares at me with those hungry eyes.

  “I was a hang-around at the club for a few years. When your father saw I wasn’t going anywhere he made me a prospect. I was a prospect for about a year or so when we were making a run and were ambushed by a rival club. We were outnumbered and they were armed to the teeth. We were shooting back sporadically to conserve ammo, but couldn’t get a break. I finally got up from behind my bike and just started shooting at everything. I hit one of their guys and they took off. It was too late for Smokey, our Sargent-At-Arms. The guy I shot later died, too, from what I hear.” Shadow closes his eyes and lowers his head. He balls his fists next to his side and shakes his head. He is breathtaking, even in turmoil. “Your dad said I showed loyalty and bravery, that it would be an honor to call me his brother. He patched me in as the new Sargent-At-Arms.” He lifts his head and stares at me with those gorgeous blue eyes.

  I want to hug him for what happened to them, but I know he is not looking for sympathy. In fact, I’m sure just telling me something that personal is probably hard for him. I really just figured he would tell me his favorite color, or to screw off. Truthfully, he is as broken as I am, we are both damaged. I reach my hand out to grab his, to offer him some kind of peace. He looks down at our hands embraced, his hand much bigger than mine. The fire that was there when our hands touched earlier, starts to ignite again. He pulls his hand away roughly, and shakes his head. What is he shaking his head at? Me, himself, or us?

  “Dani, don’t read anything into this, there’s nothing between us. Being together is a hell we can't afford to explore.” He presses his hand on the small of my back to guide me toward his bike. “Come on, let’s get you back to the club.” His hand on my back shoots waves of ecstasy through my veins. I want him to bend me over his bike and have his way with me; who cares if I'm just a notch on his belt anymore.

  I sigh internally. My body, soul, and mind are so confused. I can't deny the way Shadow affects me, but he is right. Anything between us would lead to an even bigger hell than we both already live. My father would kill him, and my mother would kill me, or throw me out on the streets with nothing like she has threatened to my whole life. Our lives as we know them would forever change if we became anything more than friends. I feel alive while I am with Shadow, so high on adrenaline I throw caution to the wind. We are dangerous around each other. Maybe just eye-fucking from across the room would be in our best interest. But being alone in a bedroom, having hell and heaven in the same room, would be monumental.

  The ride back from the beach is awkward; Shadow is tense the whole time compared to how relaxed he was on the ride there. He keeps his hands on the handle bars and not on my thigh. I can tell he is not happy he told me something personal. I wish I hadn’t pushed him to share.

  We pull up to the clubhouse and I see my mother outside. To say she has a scowl on her face is an understatement. I climb off the bike and she instantly starts yelling at me regardless of the many people around. Apparently the after party has started.

  “Where the hell have you been? Why are you on that bike with the likes of him?�
� She slurs. I raise an eyebrow. I don’t think I have ever seen my mother drunk before.

  She grabs my arm as I try to walk past her. “You answer me right now,” she yells, gathering more attention from everyone.

  I yank my arm away from her and glare in her direction; she stumbles backwards from the force of my tugging. How dare she ask where I was? And why I was on the back of his bike is even less of her business. Screw her and her lies. I am no longer going to follow her every wish and command. It’s time to start thinking for myself; living my own life. As I continue past her, she starts screaming at Shadow to stay away from me. I'm sure he won’t argue with that.

  The clubhouse is crowded with people. I smell cheap perfume mixed with alcohol and cigarette smoke. There's a funny smell that I assume is marijuana. The lights are low so it's hard for me to recognize anyone as I push my way through the main room. Twisted Sister's “We're Not Gonna Take It” is blaring from the stereo system and I think how fitting that song is for what I'm feeling at this exact moment. I'm not gonna take my mother's shit anymore. It'll be hard for her to throw me out now that Bull and I have gotten close. That should piss her off.

  I make my way to my room and lock the door. My dad, eh, Bull, asked me to stay in here so I sit on my bed unsure of what to do next. I don’t know if I should call him dad or Bull; everything is still so awkward. I look over and see a laptop on the dresser. Hmm, I wonder if the internet has anything on the club. Maybe then I can see why my mother is so concerned. I reach over and grab the laptop before giving it a second thought.

  When the browser loads, I type in “Devil's Dust Motorcycle Club”. The search engine instantly pops up with pages of news articles; yikes. The club has been linked to multiple murders, missing persons, possible gun running, and the list goes on and on. Holy shit, I’m not prepared for this. After opening every news story and article it seems they have never been charged with any of the allegations they were supposedly “linked” to. Witnesses either went missing, were found dead, or changed their story. Hmm? Well you know what they say, “innocent until proven guilty”. I slap the laptop closed not wanting to dig any further. Deep down I know better, but this is the story I am sticking to. I feel safe here, maybe it is because I’m the president’s daughter. I know nobody will fuck with me, or they will end up in a ditch or with a bullet in their leg. I lay back on the bed. I can hear the music thumping against my wall. I could just go grab a soda and come right back. No harm in that, right? I can even go check on my mother; she was pretty pissed.