by Xander Hades
I don’t know what else to say, so I tell her, “Okay.”
I’m about to turn and head back to the shop when she says, “You know, I’m not sure I’d really feel comfortable coming back here, but if we should happen to see each other again sometime on neutral ground, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to ride on the back of a motorcycle.” Her mouth is open like she’s going to say more, but she just stands there a second. Finally, she seals her lips, gets in her car, and drives away.
I’m not entirely sure what just happened, but at least I got a couple of smiles out of her.
Chapter Four
Julie
Going back to the bar was a huge thing for me. I faced my fears once, and now, I don’t know, I feel like I want to face another, and another. It’s the same compulsive behavior that made me so effective in school; the same addiction-like tenacity that led me to succeed in my career. Now that I have a mild taste of success “going out and doing something crazy,” I want more. That said, I don’t want to get killed, either.
In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have gone into the bar by myself, but I did take precautions. For one thing, I hounded Riley until she agreed to go with me and wait in the car. Of course, I didn’t want anyone to see her unless things took a bad turn, so I had her lie down in the backseat.
If I wasn’t back out of the bar in five minutes, Riley was supposed to call the police while running in to save me. Yeah, in retrospect, I could have planned the whole thing out better. I did tell Marcy and Jenna where I’d be, too, but I played it cool. I’m sure they think I’m all kinds of wild and crazy now, and I don’t see a reason they need to know otherwise. Naturally, I slipped when I was going into the conversation, and I made sure to repeat the name of the bar a couple of times just to make sure they’d know where to send the SWAT team in case Riley couldn’t save me, herself.
After all that, I’m only kind of sure I actually told that man—Riley said his name is Ghost, but I can’t imagine it’s what his parents picked out for him—thank you somewhere in the word salad. It wasn’t the smoothest I’ve ever been, but I survived.
I made sure to go during the day. Riley said if he wasn’t there, the bartender would know where I could find him. The way those men all crowded around me, doling out catcalls and tugging at my blouse, I’m glad he found me instead.
So, I went to the bar and, I’m pretty sure, I thanked the man. Now that’s enough of that. I have no idea where the whole, “I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to ride on the back of a motorcycle” thing came from, but it doesn’t really matter, because I’m never going back there. I faced my fears, twice. Now, I think it’s time to turn my new thrill-seeking, adventurous bent in a less “possible danger to life and limb” sort of direction.
I’ve never told anyone this, but I’ve always wanted to check into a hotel one night and steal some towels. People do that all the time from what I gather. Of course, I couldn’t possibly take all of them. I think one bath towel, one hand towel, and one washrag is plenty. I mean, if I go in there and steal all their towels, they’re going to know what happened, and I’m probably going to end up in prison with all the rapists and murderers. I do get a nice surge of adrenaline thinking about checking in, putting a bath towel, a hand towel, and a washrag into my bag, and then checking out the next morning like nothing happened.
That kind of risk is a bit more my speed than ducking fists at a biker bar.
I’m so enamored thinking about my upcoming plans of malfeasance I don’t even notice it’s already five o’clock until Riley comes into my office, saying, “Hey, you gettin’ ready to head home?”
I glance at the clock and then back at Riley. “Uh, yeah,” I tell her. I’m not sure I got done what I needed to get done today, but in furtherance of my new freewheeling lifestyle, I’ve decided not to care. Besides, I have everything I need on my laptop, so I can finish everything up at home.
“Cool,” she says. “Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll walk down with you.”
I smile, and say, “Sounds good, Riley. I should only be a minute.”
“Great,” she says and leaves the office.
I think I’ve made a friend. She’s a bit more—what’s the word?—hardcore than I am, but it’s probably a good thing to have a friend who doesn’t have a panic attack thinking about doing wild and crazy stuff. I bet she’s stolen a bunch of towels in her day.
When I walk out of the office, Riley’s waiting for me. We walk to the elevator together, passing Jenna on the way. I bet she thinks I’ve got a bad ass. Or is it that I am a badass? I always get mixed up on that one.
So, feeling like I either am or have a bad ass, I get on the elevator with Riley, and we head down to the ground floor.
“Where are you parked?” I ask her.
“There was an open spot near you, so I took it,” she says.
Classic Riley. She doesn’t care if a person has established where she parked as their usual spot, she just parks there.
As we enter the parking lot, Riley says, “I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” I ask. “What kind of surprise?”
“You’ll see,” she answers.
I’m more than a little nervous, but Riley and I are pals.
Somewhere nearby, I can hear the sound of an obnoxiously loud engine echoing off the walls. I don’t know why people think it makes them cool to drive something so loud. I’ve always thought it was intolerable and uncouth. When we get within sight of my car, though, I realize I should probably keep that opinion to myself.
That man, Ghost, is parked right behind my vehicle. I slow my gait, but Riley grabs my wrist and pulls me onward. What is he doing here? Oh my god, this must be Riley’s surprise.
She’s not my friend at all. She’s trying to get me killed.
We get closer, and Riley’s shouting, “Hey, Ghost! Have any trouble finding the place?”
He shakes his bandana-covered head.
I’m pulling back against Riley’s surprisingly strong grip, saying, “You know, I just remembered, I left some paperwork in my office. I should head back up there and—”
“Ghost” reaches back and grabs the helmet from the seat behind him. He tosses it to me, and miraculously, I catch it.
“Riley said you could really use a ride,” he tells me. “Hop on. I’ll take you home.”
“Okay, seriously, how do the two of you know each other?” I ask.
He shakes his head, smiling. He says, “Everyone knows Riley.”
Riley tells me, “Don’t worry about it. Anyway, I know you said you’ve always wanted to see what it was like to ride on the back of a motorcycle, and our friend here had some extra time tonight.”
“Yeah, I can’t,” I tell her.
“Why not?” she asks.
It’s a valid question. Looking back toward the man, I see my way out. “I’ve got some errands to run later, and if I ride home with him, I’m not going to have my car.”
“No problem,” Riley says. “Just give me your keys and your address and I’ll drive it home for you.”
“Yeah, but how will you get your car home tonight?” I ask, my mouth dry.
“I’ll just catch a ride back with Ghost,” she says. “Here, give me your keys and I’ll help you get the helmet on.”
I wonder what are the chances that this is a carjacking, and I’m just too naïve to see it. Of course, we’re in the office parking lot. There are cameras around somewhere, I would think. Okay, maybe she’s not trying to steal my car, but do I really want to get on the back of a motorcycle of a biker gang biker? They probably call it something else. That doesn’t sound right.
Reluctantly, I reach into my purse and hand Riley my keys.
“Oh,” she says, “you’ll probably want me to take that, too. It can get a bit tricky keeping everything in your purse on the back of a bike.”
What she’s saying, it makes sense, but I get that feeling again that I’m just handing o
ver my possessions like a credulous dope.
Screw it. Ooh, it feels good thinking that. I’ve spent my whole life being afraid of nearly everything, and this guy has had a couple of chances to murder me for sport. If that was his plan today, I doubt he’d risk being the last person seen with me just outside of work.
“Okay,” I say, and make my way over to the bike. “How do I…?”
“Just straddle the seat behind me,” Ghost says. “When you’re on, put your hands on my shoulders and we’ll get going.”
“Wait, how are you going to know where to take me?” I ask. “Your bike’s pretty loud. How are you going to hear my directions?”
He chuckles. “Squeeze my right shoulder when you want me to take a right, my left shoulder when you want me to take a left,” he says. “You ready?”
I take a deep breath, and I can feel every inch of every vein in my body as my blood races through. “Yeah,” I answer, lifting one leg up and over the seat. It’s surprisingly comfortable.
No sooner are my hands on Ghost’s shoulders than he’s hitting the throttle.
I want to shriek in terror, I want to cheer. I want to react in a lot of different ways, but my breath is caught in my chest, and every muscle in my body is tensed.
We get to the end of the parking lot, and he pats one of my hands with one of his. What’s he doing? Why’s he doing that? Is this some weird biker culture thing where getting on the back of his motorcycle means we’re married or something? I guess it wouldn’t be a marriage thing. It’s probably more of a property thing. Do I belong to this man now in some ill-defined, yet inescapable way?
It’s not until he pries my hand up a bit that I realize I’m gripping his shoulders with every ounce of strength I have, and he simply doesn’t know whether to go right or left. I relax my grip a little, and squeeze his right shoulder.
We turn right.
Okay, that was pretty cool.
The motorcycle gets up to speed remarkably fast, but I don’t have the sensation like I’m going to fly off the back like I thought I would. In fact, after a couple of blocks, I relax my grip a little bit more. I never would have guessed it, but I actually feel perfectly safe on this bike with him.
The wind isn’t exactly blowing through my hair with the helmet and all, but I’m overcome with the beauty and exhilaration of the moment. The sun hangs low, and I feel like I could almost touch the sky.
I squeeze his left shoulder, and on the next street, we turn left. My breath comes back to me as he accelerates again, and I don’t care what Riley would think. I shout, “WOO!” at the top of my lungs, and despite how quickly the sound is lost in the wind, I can feel Ghost’s body quake with laughter beneath my hands.
We pull up to a stop light, and I put my feet down—rather, I try to put my feet down. The bike’s a bit big for me. It doesn’t seem to matter. Ghost revs his engine, and I’m finally starting to understand why someone would want to ride on something so loud. The vibration’s kind of nice, too, but I don’t plan on mentioning that part to anyone. I’ll keep that particular sensation to myself.
A couple miles pass, and we’re just cruising now. I don’t know how fast we’re going, but we’re passing cars with speed to spare, and I’ve never felt anything like this.
We start getting closer to my house, and my cautious side rears its sensible head once more. Do I really want this guy knowing where I live?
The reality is I’ve had no indication whatsoever that this man intends to do me any kind of harm, but at the same time, I don’t even know his real name.
So, just to be on the safe side, I direct him to a park near my house that’s always full of people. I can walk the last couple of blocks. Actually, given what the vibration’s doing to me, I may not be able to walk at all.
We pull up to the curb at the park, and I gingerly step off the bike, leaning forward a bit, standing with my legs a little closer together than usual. I take off the helmet, and he shuts off his bike.
Before he can ask me why I had him drop me off at a park, I say, “That was amazing. Thank you so much. I’ve never experienced anything like it.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he says. “You all right?”
There is a bit of grunt in my voice, and I’m leaning forward a little, but I tell him, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just overwhelmed. What surprised me most was how natural it felt. I thought I’d have to cling to you for dear life if I was going to stay on, but I felt incredibly safe with you.”
My heart starts pounding as the words leave my mouth. Until now, I’ve been too scared of this man to really notice it, but he’s very attractive. Ghost is a bit more of a rough-and-tumble sort of guy than I’m usually attracted to, but his deep blue eyes are kind, almost familiar.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Most people call me Ghost,” he says.
“Yeah, but what’s your real name?” I return. “Or should I not have asked that?”
He chuckles. “It’s Russ,” he tells me.
“Short for Russell?” I ask, and he cringes.
“Technically, but Russ works better.”
“Where are you from?”
“The wrong side of the railroad tracks,” he says. “My mafia father and drug queenpin mother got together over a structure fire where they were both trying to ice the same guy, and bam! Love at first sight.”
“You’re having some fun with me, aren’t you?” I ask, the corners of my mouth reaching upward.
“Yeah, a little bit,” he says. He has a great smile. “I’m from here in town.”
I find myself sinking into those ocean blue eyes. I’m a bit startled when I catch myself doing it. “That was so much fun!” I announce. “Thank you again.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he repeats. “Sometimes it’s good to just hop on and go. There’s nothing more freeing.”
“Huh.”
“Huh, what?”
“It’s just, I don’t know. You’re not how I thought you would be.”
“What do you mean?”
“You seem like a nice guy.”
He smiles. “Does that surprise you?”
“Yes,” I say. “I mean, no. I mean, I don’t know what I was expecting. I just didn’t expect you to be so…”
“…so?”
I hand him the helmet, saying, “I should probably go.”
“All right,” he says.
I want to ask if I’m going to see him again, but I choke on the words. The only thing I can manage to get out is, “Thanks again.” I lean forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek, but at the last moment, he turns his head a little, and my lips meet his.
Startled, I pull back, but my goodness that was nice. Without even thinking about it, I put my arms around him and give him another kiss on the lips. This time it’s not accidental, but after a couple of seconds, I start feeling that fear again, and so I pull away.
Next thing I know, I’m half-jogging, half-running toward my house, barely looking before crossing the street. Traffic’s not too bad on this road this time of day, so I make it across just fine.
What am I doing? There’s no way it would ever work out, him and me. We’re from different worlds. Probably, I’m never going to see him again unless Riley cooks up another surprise.
I’d like to see him again, though. I really would.
Chapter Five
Russ
I’m sitting at the bar, making small talk with Chas when I first hear my name drunkenly spill out of Auric’s mouth. Auric, he and I have a complicated history. We started about the same time, but I was always a rung above him on the ladder. I’d earn colors before him, I was the first between us to go out on an “assignment,” and obviously, I was the first to be put in charge. Used to be, we’d chat and laugh about it: Nothing more than friendly competition. Now, though, I have a pretty good idea why he’s speaking my name.
Looking up at Chas, I know she heard it, too. I can’t hear a lot of what he’s sayin
g, but the word, “Ghost” pops up enough my heart starts pounding in my chest. The longer he speaks, the louder he gets until the rest of the bar catches wind, and then it’s just Auric talking.
He’s drunk enough he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that his conversation is no longer private. It doesn’t matter.
“…a little convenient that Ghost gets bumped up immediately?” he says. “Of all the guys in the club, why him, huh? He ain’t been here longest, he ain’t brought in as much, or made more solid contacts than anyone else, so why him? You know what I think?”
For Auric’s sake as well as my own, I hope he’s not about to go where I know he’s about to go. I start making my way, slowly, across the bar to the table where Auric’s spilling as much of his beer as he’s getting into his flapping mouth.
“I think Ghost’s been spending a bit too much time around Rev and Riley,” Auric says. “He’s been getting close so Rev would think of him if things ever went bad. Once he got that attention, boom! Police come screamin’ in here, got everybody on the ground, but it don’t stop there. They go straight for Rev. Why him? I mean, I know they got their sights on us and all that, so maybe they know already who’s in charge around here, but ain’t nobody in this fuckin’ club got their hands clean. They went straight for Rev, and nobody, but nobody else got shit done to ‘em.”