He looked at the Harley. “Shit. I’ve had that bike ten years. It’s part of the family.”
“I know plenty about that,” I said. “My chopper got repossessed a little over a year ago. No differently than you, I was jobless, and couldn’t pay for it. Getting that thing taken from me was the best thing that ever happened to me. A turning point in my life if there ever was one. It caused me to take a long hard look at me and what was wrong in my life.”
“I’m guessing you’re going to end up with it, then. Is that right?”
I nodded. “I’m paying him for it. Like I said, Teddy needs that money.”
He folded his arms over his chest. His gaze fell to the driveway. He was almost there, he simply needed a nudge.
“I plan on turning it into a show bike. Fishtail exhaust, air ride suspension, chrome spoked wheels, black paint, and as much chrome as Harley will sell me for it. I’ll text you pics as it’s coming along.” I pulled the contract I’d drafted from my back pocket. “I’ll just need you to sign this, and then Teddy will sign it. It shows you’re caught up one hundred percent. It’ll be a good feeling to get that debt off your shoulders, won’t it?”
He took the sheet of paper and opened it. After reading it, he looked up. “Show bike, huh?”
“Slice at that custom shop downtown will do the paintwork. Silver and purple hand-painted old-school stripes. Stretched fenders. Hand-stitched solo seat. Big ape-hanger handlebars. I’m planning on going Cholo-style. Like the bikes out in SoCal.”
He grinned. “That’d be badass.”
“Need a pen?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Got one in the truck.”
With some reluctance, he signed the contract, and then produced the motorcycle’s title. After he handed me the keys, I looked at Teddy.
“Jess said I couldn’t drive my car, right?”
“Yep.”
I grinned. “She never said I couldn’t ride a bike.”
Tater Salad looked at Teddy. “What’s he talking about.”
“Fucker ain’t got a driver’s license. Told his Ol’ Lady he wouldn’t drive his car until he got it resolved. Never said nothing about a bike, though.”
Tater looked at me. “Better take it slow. Cops in this town are sons-of-bitches.”
I lifted my leg over the rear fender, lowered myself into the seat, and started the engine. After agreeing to leave the bike at Teddy’s house, I rode it there and parked it.
When he opened the garage door, my jaw hit the floor. My one-of-a-kind BMW was sitting in his garage.
“What the fuck?” I gasped.
“Forgot to tell you,” he said with a low laugh. “Bought it from the bank at auction. Thought I’d keep it in the family.”
I looked the car over. Short of being covered in dust, it looked just the way it did on the day they picked it up.
“It’s dirty,” I said.
“Never drive it. Probably never will. I’ll just keep it. You can come visit it any time you want.”
I shook my head. “Love ya, Brother.”
He stroked his beard and nodded toward the motorcycle. “When you telling Jess about this?”
“When it’s done,” I said.
“You seriously going to do all that shit to it?”
“Starting tomorrow.”
My means of recovery from the loss we’d suffered was sitting in Teddy’s garage. I was sure of it. The ten-minute ride to his house was hint enough to provide me with hope. Jess had never been on a motorcycle before, but I had my suspicions that she’d enjoy it.
In a few weeks, I intended to find out.
There was one thing I had to take care of first.
Chapter Forty-One
With Jess at my side, I stood in front of the counter and mentally prepared to explain my situation. The woman on the receiving end of the conversation was a few days from retirement and had advised us that her departure party was scheduled at the end of the day.
I made comment about her beautiful snow-white hair and grinned.
She smiled in return.
Then, I placed my suspended driver’s license on the counter between us and began to explain. “If you look up my name, there’ll be several infractions, and some pretty significant fines and fees. I’d like to get those resolved, but there’s a catch.”
She reached for my license. “Let’s have a look.”
After a moment, she shifted her gaze from her computer to me. “Your driver’s license has been suspended.”
“I’m well aware.”
She glanced at the screen. Her eyes widened slightly. “A warrant is scheduled to be issued next month.”
“I’m privy to that, too.”
“Are you wanting to pay for everything today?”
“That’s where the problem comes into play,” I said.
She alternated glances between Jess and me. “What problem?”
“There should be four violations, all dated within a few weeks of one another, one of which is a parking ticket. Parking in a handicap stall.”
She reviewed the information on the screen. “That’s what it shows.”
“Here’s the problem. I will not pay the parking ticket. In fact, I can’t. Not today, not ever. I didn’t park in a handicap stall. I parked on a sidewalk. I’ll pay an additional fine, I suppose. Or an additional fee. You can shuffle it around however you like. But, I want a detailed printout. If there’s a line item for a parking ticket, I won’t pay it.”
Jess leaned in front of me. “He’s stubborn,” she whispered.
The woman grinned. “This is my last day. Let me see what I can do.”
After several failed attempts, she called over her supervisor. She explained the situation to him. He poked a few keys on the computer, swiped his ID through a reader, and then typed something on the keyboard.
“That should do it,” he said.
She looked at the screen and smiled. “How does speeding, illegal lane change, and eluding an officer sound?”
Those were the three tickets I’d received a week before the parking ticket. It had been a shitty day, and I was in a bad mood. When the officer tried to pull me over, I decided I’d simply speed through traffic and outrun him. A few miles later, his friends were waiting for me.
It was a long night.
“Is that it?” I asked. “Nothing else?”
“Those three. The fine will be a total of seven hundred and eighty-six dollars.”
“Can I look at it?”
She turned the monitor, so I could see it.
“Looks great,” I said.
I paid the fine. A review of the receipt showed nothing of the parking ticket. Technically, I didn’t pay the parking fine. In short, I’d won the battle. I folded the receipt, put it in my pocket and looked at Jess.
“I’ve got something I want to show you.”
“What?”
“Give me your keys,” I said. “I’ll take you there.”
Fifteen minutes later, she stood in front of the finished bike and smiled. “I love it. It’s pretty. Are you thinking about buying it?”
“It’s ours.”
She spun around. “What?”
“They just finished building it for me.”
She studied it, and then looked at me. “It only has one seat.”
“On that kind of bike, you use a suction cup seat on the rear fender,” I explained.
She chuckled. “Just like Erik did with Kelli.”
“That’s right.”
She tilted her head to the side and gave me a look. “He didn’t have a big seat on his bike because it didn’t look cool.”
“Sounds about right.”
She faced me. “Do you have a suction cup seat?”
“They’ve got one inside.”
“I suggest you buy it,” she said. “Because I’m not sitting on the fender.”
After buying the seat, I gave her instructions on how to ride, where to place her feet, and the precautions s
he’d need to take with the hot exhaust.
It was Jessica’s maiden voyage on a motorcycle. It was also the first time I’d had a woman on the back of my motorcycle in many, many years. She was a natural rider. Short of her hands wrapped around my waist, I didn’t realize she was behind me.
I crept along the highway’s on-ramp. “How’s a hamburger sound?” I asked over my shoulder.
“You’re not stopping already, are you?”
“No. I was going to head to Stearman Field. An hour away, give or take.”
“Stearman Field that Kelli and Erik rode to?”
“That’s the one.”
“I’d like that.”
I twisted the throttle, speeding up to merge into traffic. In checking the rearview mirror, I saw Jessica was wearing a look of content that I hadn’t seen since our loss. An hour later, when we pulled onto the runway at Stearman Field, my face was plastered with the same look.
I realized I’d never forget what happened. Nor would I ever be completely free of the lingering pain.
The ride on that day, and on the many days that followed, slowly began to cleanse my soul. The therapeutic properties of riding were undeniable. We spent that summer on the bike as much as possible.
I released the boxer book I’d been working on and didn’t release another book for four months. It was hard to write when I was riding. My followers and devoted fans didn’t understand why I took the break from writing. I never shared with them the tragedy that Jess and I suffered.
When the summer was coming to a close, the MC started to plan the year’s poker run. One night, Jess and I rode to a planning party at a local biker tavern. It was to be the night that she finally got to meet everyone in the club.
I knew the night would be a special one for many reasons. When we arrived, Jess looked at the sea of motorcycles parked in the lot.
“Holy cow,” she exclaimed. “They’re all inside?”
“It’s going to be wild,” I said. “Not everyone is with us. Just pay attention to who’s wearing kuttes.”
“Okay.”
We got off the bike and walked inside. Just through the door, The Big O stood. Jess hadn’t met him yet. She knew nothing of his involvement in ridding her of the thorn that had been in her side for years.
She simply knew that one cold winter’s day, her ex disappeared from the picture. He was still around, and I knew it. I further knew he’d never step foot within a hundred yards of her, thanks to O.
He opened his arms and grinned an ear-to-ear grin. “You must be Jess.”
I’d told her enough stories that she knew just who he was. As if they were long lost friends, she rushed to him and gave him a hug. The top of her head came to just over his belly button. As he held her, he looked at me and gave me a wink.
Three chapters of our MC were gathered in the bar that night. Back slapping, hugs, wild stories, and beer drinking were aplenty. As Jess and I sat and listened to one of the brethren’s stories, King and his Ol’ Lady sat down at our side. I stared at them in shock but knew not to express myself verbally. In the years that I’d known him, I’d never seen a woman within fifty feet of him.
After introductions, I looked at him and smiled to myself. Even things that are etched in stone, I decided, have the capacity to change. On that night, mysteriously, they did.
When Jess and I returned home, we made love. It was the first time we’d done so in a long, long time.
We hadn’t recovered, but we were on our way.
One mile of open road at a time.
Chapter Forty-Two
To describe the excitement level Jessica’s parents felt regarding our relationship could easily be done with one word.
Nonexistent.
They had no idea of Jessica’s past experiences with her ex. The countless times she’d filed protection orders. The domestic violence reports. The stabbings. The death threats. The visits from Wichita Police to stop him from beating her. The file listing his trips to jail was several inches thick. Her parents knew nothing of any of it.
As with most abuse victims, she was embarrassed and blamed herself. She feared telling them the truth, so she told them nothing.
It seemed they knew everything of me, however.
“He writes pornography,” her mother said. “His books depict relationships with unwed couples having sex.”
“They’re books, mother,” Jessica said. “Just books. He treats me with respect. He’s good with the children.”
“We don’t like the idea of you being with someone like that,” her mother replied. “He’s got tattoos.”
Clinging to their belief that she would one day have a spiritual awakening and break off the relationship with me, they’d never taken the time to meet me. After our physical relationship began, their contact with Jessica diminished to a once a month phone call, at best.
Each of their attempts to contact her were met by Jessica’s praise of how the children’s attitudes and manners had improved. She explained how she felt loved, respected, and safe. She also reiterated during each call that our relationship sat firmly on a solid foundation of respect and love.
Eventually, they felt the need to drive to Wichita and point out my deficiencies in person. I wasn’t thrilled about being criticized from afar – or in person – by anyone who spewed the Bible’s scripture as if they’d written it themselves.
Hoping that they’d somehow find a way to accept me for who I was and not what I appeared to be, I agreed to the meeting. The next weekend, Jessica’s mother, father, younger brother, and one of her younger sisters arrived in Wichita.
We met for an early evening dinner at The Anchor, a local bar-restaurant that was situated within a few blocks of where we lived. It was typically filled with hipsters, artists, and musicians who enjoyed the eclectic fare offered on the often-changing menu.
Jess, the children, and I walked from the adjoining parking lot to the lot her father had parked in. Jess looked like she was ready for a fashion show, as usual. The children were wearing their typical late-summer attire; Landon wore shorts and a tee shirt. Lily, a dress.
I wore a V-neck tee, jeans, and the Chuck’s used for what had become Jessica’s favorite sexual position. Upon exiting the car, her father looked me up and down, pausing for an inordinate amount of time to take in my full sleeve of tattoos.
An aeronautical engineer and former Air Force pilot, he now worked for Boeing as a Program Manager on the F-16 Program. His military career as an officer didn’t include obtaining the tattoos often sought by Marines or Army infantrymen.
Although he may not have realized it – or believed it – my choice to use my body as a canvas didn’t make me any lesser of a man. I had no intention to prove my worth to him. I would simply be myself. He could then base his opinion of me on fact, not fabrication.
I extended my hand. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Sir.”
With a smile and a nod, he accepted my hand, gripping it firmly in his. “Terry.”
“It’s a pleasure, Terry.”
I faced her mother. She looked at me and gasped. It wasn’t intentional, it was more of a reaction to what she’d seen. She was appalled at my appearance. There was nothing she could do to hide it.
With bulging eyes and shaking hands, she stared at me.
Feeling that a handshake would exceed the extent of her desire to touch me, I chose to not to shake her hand.
Instead, I opened my arms. “Come here, Lisa,” I said with a smile. “It’s Lisa, right?”
Hoping to be saved from the situation, she glanced at Jess. Well aware that there was nothing she could do to prevent me from proceeding with the awkward embrace, Jess simply shrugged.
Lisa’s face distorted into a fearful scowl.
It was all the invitation I needed. I took a step in her direction, wrapped my arms around her, and pulled her close.
“So nice to finally meet you,” I said.
“Nice to uhhm…nice to meet, you, too,” she stamm
ered.
I held her for just long enough to make her mildly uncomfortable. Then, as a group, we went in the restaurant. Surrounded by tattooed hipsters and artists adorned with no less than a dozen facial piercings, I felt right at home.
We ate dinner together, talking about everything from airplanes to AC-DC. After the table was cleared, the waitress brought the bill.
“How do you want this split?” she asked.
I handed her my bank card. “All on one.”
Her father shook his head. “We can split it up. I’ll gladly pay for—”
“You’re our guest for the weekend. Let me treat you as such,” I said.
He alternated glances between Jessica and me, then grinned. “Thank you.”
The next day they came to the loft. While Lisa seemed appalled by the living space, Terry was nothing short of fascinated.
“It reminds me of the flats in Europe,” he said. “Only much bigger.”
“For now,” I said. “It suits us just fine.”
Lisa wrinkled her nose, surveyed the space, and picked apart every facet of the arrangement.
When the weekend ended, Terry offered a smile and a congratulatory remark. Lisa, on the other hand, offered nothing but a scowl followed by a side-eyed stare as they walked to their car.
I looked at Jess as they drove away. “Much better than I expected.”
“Me, too.” She waved at her sister and then offered a consoling look. “My mother will take time.”
“She’ll eventually accept me,” I assured her. “She doesn’t have a choice.”
“What do you mean?”
“Any time she sees you, she’ll see me. Eventually, she’ll accept me. It might take time, but it will happen.”
“When I go there to visit, you’re going to come with me?” she asked excitedly.
“Of course,” I said. “We’re a family.”
At that moment, the splinters of amber that were sprinkled throughout her brown iris glistened with a brightness I’d yearned to see for months.
And the depth of her beautiful eyes returned.
LOVER COME BACK_An Unbelievable But True Love Story Page 18