“Sure, you can,” he said with a smile. “You can do anything. Try it again.”
He held her hands so she could balance herself. His dark eyes sought hers, giving her nonverbal encouragement. She mirrored his smile. “Okay,” she finally agreed. “But don’t let go!”
“I won’t,” he promised.
She made it down the block, but fell off on her return trip flying solo. She giggled. “I’m gonna make some biker, huh?”
Kid turned the board back over. “I think you’ll make a great biker. You already look the part,” he added, glancing over her dark jeans and black T-shirt, which proudly sported a red, white, and blue slogan: “Live Free, Ride Hard.” It was an old discarded T-shirt she’d found in the bottom of the dresser, so she knew without asking it was one of M.J.’s. Just wearing it made her feel stronger and more badass, like she was capable of facing and defeating any foe.
Her eyes shyly met his. “Thanks.” She looked down at his skateboard with a sigh. “But I think M.J. might have been right to keep me out of Wyndryder.”
Once again Kid felt her pull back from what she really wanted to say. It was as though she wanted to take him into her confidence, but was clearly once bitten, twice shy. He had made it a habit not to pry, despite the fact that M.J. wanted him to mine for clues. He knew he had to earn this girl’s trust first.
He reached down for his skateboard. “There’s only one way to become a biker,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the garage. He put his custom skateboard on the pegs on the wall and grabbed the helmet hanging next to it. He turned to her with a smile.
Within minutes they were aboard his bike and screaming through the quiet Pasadena neighborhood, heading straight for the Ventura Freeway.
She wound her arms around his waist as they headed west. They caught the 405 and turned south before merging onto I-10 West. Finally they exited onto the city streets in Santa Monica.
She could feel the cool marine air the closer they got to the ocean, and she could hardly contain her excitement when it finally came into view. He pulled into the parking lot adjacent to the Santa Monica Pier. She could hardly believe her eyes. She took off her helmet and experienced the Pacific in all her glory for the very first time. “Wow,” was all she could say.
He felt the same way when he looked down at her face. Her big, bright blue eyes rivaled any ocean, and her smile rivaled the sun. He grinned and took her hand in his. They headed up the stairs toward the wooden pier, which was full of tourists and street performers. She stopped in every shop and listened to every act. They walked all the way to the edge of the pier and leaned on the railing. The pier stood proud over the churning ocean below. Ocean breezes sifted through her dark hair like a dozen gentle fingers. In the distance, a street performer sang “Imagine” by John Lennon. The moment was so poignant that it brought tears to her eyes. This was the way life could be.
Should be.
She turned to Kid. His eyes were warm and kind. “Thank you,” she said.
If he’d had the balls, he might have leaned in to kiss her. But being with Baby was like holding a wounded bird in his hands. One wrong move and she’d fly away, never to be seen again. With each passing day, he realized more and more that he’d do anything he could to keep that from happening. Instead he just took her by the hand and told her, “We’re not done.”
They walked back down the pier to the 1920s carousel, housed in a nondescript building that looked, and smelled, its age. He paid the nominal fee for a couple of tickets and led her onto the round platform, where they picked the perfect hand-carved horses to ride. He lifted her up on hers first and then took the seat next to her.
The ride started, and she laughed as they bobbed along on the historic carousel to calliope music. He gave her that lopsided grin, almost a perfect mirror of his brother’s. But Kid was just sweeter somehow, less edgy. He was safe. For the first time in her life, she truly felt like she had a friend.
After the ride ended, he treated her to a milkshake at the soda fountain. They sat at the counter and shared their treat through two straws. “I feel like a starlet who’s about to be discovered,” she said, grinning.
He captured a bit of whipped cream on his fingertip before placing it upon her upturned nose. “You look like one, too,” he said, and she laughed. Again, he would have loved to lean forward and kiss that fluffy white smudge away, but he didn’t have the nerve. Instead he watched as she wiped it off and began to doodle on a paper napkin with a discarded pencil. She captured the image of one of the horses with ease.
“You’re really good,” he said as he watched her transform lines and circles into something recognizable and three-dimensional.
She shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of free time on my hands,” she dismissed. “Forget what they tell you about necessity. Boredom is the mother of invention.”
She started another doodle, this time of Kid, complete with his clunky glasses and his beanie. She gave it to him as a gift for their unexpected day together. When they were done, she practically dragged him down onto the sand, where she kicked off her shoes and trotted clumsily toward the water.
It felt like the edge of the world. She stared out into the horizon, the Pacific stretching as far as the eye could see. The sky was cloudless and perfect. Though it was midway through June, the temperature was in the seventies, so the water was cool as it lapped against her bare feet. She and Kid ran through the surf right along the shoreline until they collapsed, laughing, onto the sun-kissed sand. There was a primal rhythm to the ebb and flow of the waves, and as she lay there in the sand, looking up in the sky, she knew she was getting a little taste of what heaven must be like. This was why settlers had headed west, seeking their fortunes along California’s golden shores. This was what she had envisioned when she told that North Carolina ticket taker she wanted a one-way trip to Los Angeles. It was a city for dreamers. And finally she was here. She reached for Kid’s hand and they silently stared up into the endless blue sky.
It was mid-afternoon by the time they left the beach and headed along the Pacific Coast Highway. Baby’s heart leapt with joy when the bright red neon sign for Wyndryder came into view. She squeezed Kid’s waist and squealed.
The store was huge. It had a massive showroom full of bikes, both new and custom rebuilt. There was a corner for merchandise, where people could buy clothing and accessories. There was a coffee shop on the far side of the store, near the area where mechanics and specialists like Snake fixed and customized bikes. She spotted Snake right away. He was dirty and grimy, but he had that heart-stopping smile on his face as he interacted with the people at the shop. “He usually works at his own shop,” Kid told her. “He only works couple of days a week at Wyndryder, but he’s here more if he has the work. Summer is usually busiest.”
“What about M.J.?” she asked. “Will she get mad if I’m here?”
“M.J.’s presence is more sporadic,” he explained. “She technically owns Wyndryder. It was willed to both her and her grandmother when Joe died. But most of the day-to-day operation is left to Jim Guerra.” He pointed to the older Native American man standing at the counter. He was wearing a big smile as he teased one of his customers. “He worked at Wyndryder from the early days, when it was nothing more than fix-and-repair jobs in Joe’s garage,” Kid explained. “He knows the ins and outs better than anyone. It gives M.J. a lot of free time.”
Neither of them discussed what she did in that free time.
“Jim was Joe’s best friend,” Kid went on as they meandered through the large shop. “He served with him in Vietnam. I don’t think Joe trusted any other human more, except maybe his wife. He was here that night,” he added softly.
They approached the sixty-two-year-old man at the counter. His long hair was jet black and braided tightly down his back, with just a few silver strands showing on either temple. His cheekbones were high and his eyes were a deep and rich charcoal. It was obvious that he was a biker through and through. His skin
was weather-beaten from decades of riding his canary-yellow 1953 Indian Chief anywhere it would go. His fringed suede vest was even more weather-beaten, and it struggled to meet over his generous middle.
Jim brightened immediately when he saw Kid. “As I live and breathe. What brings you down here?”
Kid nodded to Baby. “I wanted to show my new friend the shop.”
Jim had a ready smile for the young girl. “Any friend of Kid’s is a friend of mine,” he said, reaching out a hand. “My name’s Jim.”
“Baby,” she supplied, shaking it.
He chuckled. “Kid and Baby. I like that.” He leaned over the counter. “You know Maddox still asks about you. When are you going to come see us?”
Kid shrugged. “You know Snake.”
“Yeah,” Jim said quietly. “Well, the door is always open. For both of you,” he added, giving her a friendly smile. He turned to another customer and Kid and Baby stepped away from the counter.
“Who’s Maddox?”
“He was my best friend until my parents died. Then we left Venice and moved to Pasadena so Snake could start over. There have been barbecues and rallies with the old gang, but Snake really didn’t want me to be a part of it, so we generally never go. I haven’t seen Maddy since we were seven.” He laughed. “He wanted everyone to call him Mad Dog but no one ever did. He had balls even then.”
“You should look him up,” she suggested.
“I have. It just never seemed right to make contact. I mean, what can we do besides chat on the Internet? Plus, Snake would never go for it. I barely got him to teach me to ride a year ago.”
“What harm can come from chatting online? It’s not like you’re knocking over a liquor store.” She glanced over at Snake. “You want me to ask him for you?”
Kid shook his head. “It’s not worth the hassle. In a few months I’ll be eighteen and I can make my own rules. I mean, the Triumph is mine. Dad willed it to me. So there’s really nothing he can do to stop me. I was born to ride same as him. And I will,” he promised softly.
She smiled. “Where will you go first?”
“Anywhere,” he said with a wistful look on his face. “Everywhere.” He grabbed a black flat top cap decorated with rhinestone bling in the shape of a skull and slipped it over her head. “You know, you’re a biker now. Where do you want to go?”
She glanced around the busy shop and at her new friends. “I think I’m already here.”
In another part of the store, a buzzing phone caught Snake’s attention as he completed yet another customized order. He wiped his hands clean before he answered. This was a call he did not want to miss. “Where are you?” he demanded immediately.
“I had an emergency,” M.J. started, but he was quick to cut her off.
“Yeah. I heard. Thanks for telling me, by the way. It’s not like Rose is my friend or anything.”
“It couldn’t be helped,” she replied unapologetically.
He braced himself. “Are you okay?” That was the most important question.
“I’m fine,” she said, but it felt like a pat response. Something was wrong.
“M.J.,” he sighed.
“I need you to keep an eye on Baby.”
“Why? Where are you going to be?”
She hesitated a moment. “I need to keep a low profile for a while.”
“Funny,” he said. “I thought I was the place you went when you needed a low profile.”
“Snake, please. I know what I’m doing. Just trust me.”
He took a deep breath and counted to ten. “How long?”
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
Snake glanced at Kid and Baby, who were trying on various accessories. He had spotted them the moment they walked in the door, and he’d had his eyes on them the entire time. He’d been a virtual parent for the last ten years, so his radar was honed. “If things are that dangerous, I’ll want the kids with me everywhere I go.”
It was a dirty thing to leverage, but he was done jumping through her hoops. She was going to have to cave a little, too. If she really was worried about being tailed to his place, then Snake would feel a whole lot better if he could keep his eyes on the kids. He had all the confidence in the world that if something were to happen, he could keep them safe.
“Fine,” she answered in a clipped, angry voice. She knew in her gut it was a bad idea to let Baby anywhere near Wyndryder, but she had to trust Snake now. Quite simply, she had no choice. There was no way she could be seen with Baby while Isbecky and his goons were tailing her. She needed time to be invisible, and that would be almost impossible with a kid at her hip.
“Just don’t let her out of your sight, Snake.”
For the first time in a long time, she sounded scared, which was the most terrifying thing of all. “I think it’s time for you to tell me what’s going on.”
“The less you know, the better,” she dismissed, for the hundredth time.
“You keep saying that. But if I’m tasked with keeping these kids safe, I need more information, not less.”
She was quiet for a moment. Finally she said, “You got out, babe. I’m not pulling you back in.”
With that sentence, he knew that he might be forced to do things he had sworn a long time ago that he would never do. The stakes were that high. He opened his mouth to say something, but the call ended. She was gone. And he had no idea where she was. Again.
With a sigh he pocketed his phone. When he looked up, he spotted Jim escorting their newest customer, Fierce reality star Jace Riga, to where he was standing next to the newly customized bike. They greeted each other with a robust handshake.
“This looks beautiful,” Jace said as he inspected the paint job, which mirrored the design on his artificial leg. “What do I owe you?”
Snake laughed. “Well, you can win that infernal singing competition, for one. Bring some street cred to reality TV.”
Jace laughed back. “I’ll do my best,” he said, withdrawing his checkbook. Snake gave him a steep military discount, since Jace was a combat veteran. He didn’t insult his honor by giving it to him for free, but he got away with charging as little as possible for the killer paint job.
Before he could leave, Snake called Kid and Baby over to meet him. Baby was a little starstruck by the handsome singer. “You have our votes,” Snake promised, and Jace departed. Once they were alone, he turned to his brother and his new partner in crime. Snake adopted his best smartass façade. “Well, this is a surprise.”
Both kids looked immediately chagrined. They knew they had colored outside the lines by coming to Wyndryder. “I took Baby out for a ride,” Kid explained, and Snake’s eyebrows arched. Kid had never taken the bike without permission before.
In a few months he wouldn’t even need it. He had been content to wait before now, but apparently Kid had decided it was time to be a man, and Snake credited the pretty girl at his side for the sudden transformation. So he swallowed any reprimand. “In any case, I’m glad you’re both here.”
Kid was instantly suspicious. “You are?”
They followed Snake back to the repair area. “M.J. has agreed for Baby to be here at Wyndryder provided,” he was quick to clarify when Baby gasped, “that you’re with me. So I figured you both can work as my assistants for the summer. Since you’re obviously old enough to make your own decisions,” he added, sending Kid a pointed look.
Baby didn’t care what the caveat was. She flung her arms around Snake’s neck. “Thank you! You won’t regret it, I promise!”
He hugged her tight and prayed she was right.
He had to stop by the bar on his way home, so he sent the kids ahead. His waitress, Lori, was tending bar when he walked through the door. “Hey, boss. Good to see you. Now we can call off the dogs.”
He gave her that breathtaking smile as he greeted her. “How’s it going?”
She poured him a frosty mug of beer. “Same ol’, same ol’. You can tell summer’s coming, though. It
’s been pretty busy. Really could use you around,” she added.
He nodded. He had inherited the bar from his folks, who had started it to have a place to drink with their beach-dwelling friends. The walls were covered with 1960s surfer memorabilia, and classic rock filled the antique neon jukebox in the corner. He loved this old bar every bit as much as he loved working on bikes. But when M.J. showed up on his doorstep, the bar was usually the first area of his life that suffered neglect.
And now he had kids to monitor.
“Schedule is pretty packed for the foreseeable future,” he told her. “Maybe we should hire another bartender.”
She held up a stack of applications. “Way ahead of you, boss.”
He grinned and gave her a friendly side hug. Lori was his right hand at the Snake Pit. “As usual,” he said. “I trust you to make the final decision, so go ahead and get someone on staff.”
She nodded. “Can I get you a bowl of chili?”
He shook his head. “Just stopped by to pick up a few things,” he told her as he headed toward his office.
He locked the door behind him before walking over to the wall safe, hidden behind a poster of a pinup girl on a massive motorcycle. He withdrew a small metal box and headed toward his desk. He took the key from his hip and unlocked it, but he didn’t open it right away. He couldn’t. This dusty metal box contained a piece of his past he had fought long and hard to bury.
But it was time for a resurrection.
Finally, with a deep breath, he opened the box to reveal the 1969 Browning Hi-Power 9mm pistol he had received from his father on his eighteenth birthday.
It got a lot of use in that year following Joe Bennett’s untimely death, but Snake had shelved it the minute he took custody of Kid. It was ironic that he’d been raised around guns, and was even taught to shoot and handle guns by his father, but the minute he became a father figure he knew he had to lock that side of himself away. He knew there were men who could balance the love of their families and their passion for guns. His father had been one of those men. But Snake had seriously doubted that he could join those ranks. This gun had made him feel powerful when he’d felt his most powerless, and that had scared him straight. There was too much responsibility involved in properly keeping a gun, especially around kids. And every time he held that wood grip in his hands, he felt rage bubble up in him that threatened to spill out of his control.
Chasing Thunder Page 13