by Grey, Helen
He made a face. “Again, my apologies. Hence this peace offering,” he said, lifting his cup. “Am I forgiven?”
I glanced at him, then tapped my cup against his. He had the sexiest eyes. It didn’t look like he had shaved this morning, but rather than looking scruffy, it just gave him a rugged look. Take him off the motorcycle and put him on a horse with a cowboy hat and he would fit right in.
“I accept your apology. Thank you.” I took another sip of my coffee just to be doing something and was about to speak again when the rumble of engines caught my attention. I turned to glance over my shoulder and saw three motorcycles coming down the street. Same black jackets. The same cluster I’d seen before? It couldn’t be, could it? Then again, maybe they were just cruising. Nothing unusual about that.
I turned back toward Ash, surprised at the expression on his face. He appeared wary, apprehensive almost. He watched the motorcycles and their riders cruise slowly down the street, his gaze narrowed on them between one stop light and the next. They didn’t look our way, but I was curious about his reaction.
“What’s wrong?”
He pulled his gaze from the riders and turned toward me, his expression blank. “Nothing, why?”
I shrugged, deciding not to push it, then repeated my earlier question with a slight variation. “Have you lived in Denver long?”
“Not long,” he said, taking another sip of his coffee. “A few years.”
“You like it here?” I knew I was asking inane questions, but while I wanted to appear friendly, I didn’t want to get into anything too serious or that revealed too much personal information. This seemed like a safe topic of conversation.
“Most of the year, yes,” he said. “The winters, not so much.”
I glanced toward his bike, hidden now behind a black SUV. “I sure hope you don’t drive that thing around in the wintertime.”
He grinned. “Actually, I do.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “Why? It seems pretty dangerous, not to mention cold.”
Again, he shrugged. “I don’t have a car.”
Oh.
I felt suddenly sad for him. Maybe he couldn’t afford a car. Bikes were a lot cheaper to drive, at least gas-wise. I realized that I’d spent so much time feeling sorry for myself lately that I didn’t consider what others were going through. At least I had a car. Nothing fancy. My Accord had around eight thousand miles on it when I bought it. I was close to paying it off. Four more months and I would get the pink slip, the first big purchase I had made and paid for myself. I could hardly wait. My first major accomplishment. Soon, I thought sardonically, I would only have to worry about coming up with rent payments, school tuition, books, and living expenses. Then, barring any major issues, I should be okay.
I was just about to ask another question, innocuous of course, when I heard motorcycles again. Sure enough, I glanced down the street and saw the same trio as before. I turned to Ash. “What are they doing? They were at the store when I left work. Don’t they have anything better to do than break people’s eardrums all over the place?”
“Ash!” a rider shouted, surprising me even more when he lifted an arm and waved.
I quickly glanced at Ash, who was now glowering at them. I turned back toward the bikers, surprised when the man lowered his arm and mimicked shooting a gun at Ash. The three men laughed and gave their bikes gas, creating an explosion of noise as they roared down the street.
I turned toward Ash. “You know them?”
He glanced at me and offered another shrug. “I’ve seen ‘em around.”
I supposed that made sense. Motorcycle riders had this thing. I had seen them passing each other on the road. When they did, they offered this little finger wave. Like they were trying to be cool and not obvious about it. They never did it to anyone riding in a car. Not that I’d seen at least.
“You said you saw them at the store?” he asked.
I turned my attention from the disappearing bikers and back to Ash. One more sip of coffee before I nodded. “Yes. They were just hanging around out front, like they were waiting for someone. They left just after I did.”
He made a noise in his throat, almost like the humph my dad used to make when we asked him a question. Sometimes, it seemed like he couldn’t even form a syllable. He just made these noises in his throat to acknowledge that he’d heard me.
Neither one of us said anything for a short time, and the awkwardness between us grew. I busied myself watching passersby and customers going into or coming out of the coffee shop, and occasionally glancing down the street to see how business was going at the pet store. I could just see the front door of the shop from here. Didn’t seem too busy.
I finished my coffee and peeked at Ash. He was looking at me.
I offered a smile. “Well, thank you for the coffee. I’d better get going now. I’ve got errands to run and then I’ve got to catch up on studying. Semi-finals are coming up, and I need to hit the books.”
Ash sat forward in his chair. “You going to school? For what?”
“A degree in veterinary medicine,” I said, and he looked at me funny.
“So you’re going to school and working two part-time jobs?”
“Yep. Work during the day, school at night.” When he only continued to watch me, I added, “Well, thank you again for the coffee—”
He reached for my empty cup and placed it inside his own empty one. Then he reached for my hand. I was too surprised to pull it away.
“I’d like to see you again, Kathy.”
Now that surprised me too. “Why?” I felt stupid the minute the word left my lips.
He grinned. “Why not?”
Because I’m too busy.
Because I’m too scared.
Because I want to be with you too bad.
Because I want to see if reality is as good as fantasy.
Because my mouth has suddenly forgotten how to work.
His grin grew even bigger, causing those damn dimples to pop out at me. “How about Monday? You working or going to school Monday afternoon?”
I should’ve lied, but I didn’t. I worked at the pet store Monday from eight in the morning until three in the afternoon. I didn’t have any classes Monday evening. I still should have said no. Instead, I accepted.
“Well, I do work, but I get off at three. No classes that night.”
“So it’s a date?”
His grin was contagious, and I found myself grinning in response. A date. A date. Oh my God, I had a date with Ash.
“You want me to pick you up from the pet store? I can drop you back off there to get your car later.”
I was about to tell him that sounded like a good idea before I realized what that meant. “You want me to ride your motorcycle?”
“Sure, why not? You ever been on a motorcycle before?”
I had, but only for about a minute back in high school. “Once, but it certainly wasn’t like your bike. More like a scooter.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun. We’ll go for a drive, get some fresh air, then we’ll stop someplace and get a bite to eat. I’ll have you home before dark. Sound good?”
He seemed to be going out of his way to make sure that I felt comfortable around him. Meeting me here at the coffee shop in the middle of the afternoon. Taking me out on a date, again in the afternoon and early evening, making sure that I would be home before dark. Picking me up from the pet store so I wouldn’t feel threatened about him knowing where I lived.
I decided that Ash Bascom was a pretty decent guy. He may not be like any other man I’d ever met, but that’s what happened when you judged someone before getting to know the person. You tended to rely on misguided opinions and expectations.
While I had no idea what to expect of him, I had a feeling I wouldn’t be disappointed.
CHAPTER 6
Ash
I felt bad lying to Kathy. Well, I didn’t exactly lie, but I didn’t tell the complete truth either. When I saw those guys cruisi
ng the street from the table at the coffee shop, my heart sank into the pit of my stomach. It exploded into a burst of anger when Kathy told me that she’d seen the same trio at the store where she worked. Coincidence? While I didn’t exactly believe in coincidences, I didn’t want to assume that they knew Kathy. How could they? I just met her Friday night. Unless…
Unless they’d been watching me. Unless they’d been watching my loft and seen her arrive. But no one in the gang except Bones knew where I lived. Or so I thought. They might have seen both of us go to her pet store and then come back. But how had they latched onto me in the first place? One of them might have followed me at any time to see where I lived. But why? Would they seriously go to that much trouble? If they wanted revenge for me quitting the gang, why didn’t they just come after me?
I was probably over reacting. So what, three of the OB Boys were riding down the street. It was a popular street in Denver, a main thoroughfare. Denver wasn’t that big, not like Boston or Los Angeles, but it was a major artery running north to south along the Front Range. The interstate that cut right through the middle of town was the main highway to reach any number of towns east or west.
I shook my head. My thoughts had been distracted since Saturday afternoon. I hadn’t recognized the guys on the motorcycles, but then again, I didn’t know everyone, and there were always people coming and going. Some of the gang members came from close by; Pueblo, Colorado Springs, some of the mountain communities. Others came from as far south as Santa Fe or Albuquerque. Some from northern regions in Wyoming, while others often drifted in from the east like I had.
I’d spend the time after my brief coffee date with Kathy assessing my belongings in the loft. The space had lost its appeal, and I wanted to move. I just had to decide if I wanted to put any of my stuff in storage or just chuck it. Doing either wasn’t easy when all you had was a motorcycle. I would have to have one of those charity organizations come by and pick up some of the furniture if they wanted it. There were a couple of tenants on the floor just beneath mine. Maybe I would go down and see if any of them were interested.
I sighed, staring around the great expanse of the room, dreading the thought of having to move again. I thought I could be happy here, or at least content. Bones had the right idea. Starting over. No regrets, no looking back. Well, I had one regret, but at the moment, it didn’t have a huge impact on me. I would be disappointed not to be able to continue seeing Kathy. Not that I could in any way define us as a couple, nor did I want to. Nevertheless, she was one of the nicest girls I’d met since I relocated to Denver. It would’ve been nice getting to know her a little better.
I was still a bit surprised that she had agreed to go out with me again, especially after the yokel on the bike had called out my name and waved, then the added threat of the finger gun. Should I have told her the truth then and there? That I had been a member of that gang? I knew for some, that knowledge would be a deal breaker. Her reaction to the bikers was typical of many people who gave motorcycle groups a wide berth. Understandable, really.
Most bikers were normal, average, everyday people. Yes, there were bad apples in the bunch. Put a bunch of bad apples into a barrel and you had a fucking mess. The same applied to any large group of individuals looking for the same thing. Hence the birth of dozens upon dozens of motorcycle gangs, and hundreds or even thousands or more street gangs around the country and across the globe.
I had been young, foolish, and full of angst when I came out west and first became a member of the Biker Boys. With them, I had gained a sense of acceptance I had never felt with my own family. But not anymore. Now, belonging to the group just seemed lame. No… dangerous. Especially with the direction they were heading. I wanted no part of that.
I sat down on my bed, staring around the loft. No longer raw, no longer cool. In fact, it was rather sorry-looking. I couldn’t understand exactly when my frame of mind had changed. What had propelled me to leave home in the first place? I tried to tell myself it was wanderlust. Boredom. Annoyance with my parents. But I knew the truth. I had tried to run from my guilt. I knew on a subliminal level, and always had, that belonging to the gang was a nonproductive endeavor. But I had stayed. Where else did I have to go?
I was getting too old for that kind of shit, that kind of juvenile behavior. Yes, there were members in the Biker Boys who were in their thirties, forties, and even fifties, but I didn’t want to end up like that. A fifty-year-old man trying to hang onto his youth? Someone that passersby looked at, snickered, and muttered “loser” under their breath about? Not for me. Not that I had ever given a shit what other people thought, but I was beginning to feel the same way.
Enough.
I rose from the bed and began to sort through some more of my stuff. I made a keep pile, a throwaway pile, and a giveaway pile. I was looking forward to my afternoon and evening with Kathy. A nice change of pace. Nothing serious, just an afternoon doing something that I hadn’t done in a long time. The weather was fantastic. Maybe I’d take the bike west on the I-70 past Golden, up into the hills. Maybe we would even go as far as Aspen. From what Kathy had told me, it sounded like she had been kept pretty busy since arriving here. I didn’t think she’d had a chance to visit some of the mountain communities.
This time of year they would be filled with tourists. The air would be rich with the smell of pine. The sky would be deep blue, nearly cloudless, and the mountain air would be cooler than down here. As I sorted through my stuff, I realized I was smiling. It felt good. While I still hadn’t decided what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go, I felt better. A little less unsettled. Just making a few small decisions had given me the desire to make a few more. Kathy had goals. Why shouldn’t I? I thought her choice of profession was quite admirable. A veterinarian. I had never dated a veterinarian before.
Dated?
Well, maybe we weren’t dating. Maybe we could just start out as friends. But if I was planning on leaving town, there wasn’t much point in developing anything more than that. I needed only one finger to count the number of friends I had at this very moment. Bones. I could stand to have another, couldn’t I?
I kept glancing at the clock, but the morning dragged by incredibly slowly. Then, just about lunchtime, my cell phone rang. It took me a moment to find it, buried under a pile of clothes on my bed. I didn’t recognize the number, although the area code was local.
“Hello?”
“Keep your mouth shut or else.”
Click.
That was it. The voice had been deep, slightly muffled as if the caller had held something over his mouth to disguise his voice. I didn’t have to wonder who the message came from. One of the Outlaws. I frowned and tossed the phone back onto the bed. Why the drama?
Stupid drug induced paranoid criminal wannabes.
I stood by one of the grimy, dusty windows looking down on the street below, frowning as I went through all the possibilities. Coming up with nothing, I reached for my phone and dialed Bones. After two rings he answered.
“Hey, Ash, how’s it hangin’?”
“You still in town?”
“Yeah, I talked to my cousin up in—”
“Not too many details, Bones. Just wanted to let you know I just got my own message.”
Silence for a moment. “What was it?”
“Keep my mouth shut or else.” Bones said nothing. “I think they’ve been watching me, my loft. There were a few of them hanging around outside the mall when Kathy—”
“Kathy? Who’s Kathy?”
“You know that girl I met from the pet store, the one I told you about? I had a cup of coffee with her Saturday afternoon at the Starbucks not far from the pet store where she works. Anyway, we were having coffee outside when three of the gang drove down the street, twice. The second time, they called my name and one of them acted like he was shooting a gun at me.”
“That’s not good,” Bones commented.
“That didn’t bother me nearly as much as what Kathy to
ld me. She has a second job near the mall, and she said that when she got off work, the same trio were hanging around outside. They left when she did.”
“That’s not good either.”
“So what do you think? Intimidation or something more serious? Have you heard anything, gotten any more messages?”
“I heard some whispers the other day. Mops said something about a plant.”
“A plant?”
“Yeah, an undercover DEA agent, a Feeb, maybe even a local cop in the gang.”
Well, that would do it, but why focus on me? “Doesn’t make much sense when applied to either one of us. We were never in the core group.”
“No, but I wonder… you weren’t jumped-out, so I thought everything was cool with you leaving.” He paused. “I was gonna take off in a day or two myself.”
Jumping out was something that some gangs did, basically requiring a member to be willing to get the shit beat out of him before he could receive “permission” from the gang to leave. I hadn’t heard of that going on with the Outlaws. Maybe they were worried about repercussions from police. I was holding onto a secret, a secret that not even Bones knew about, but they were apparently keeping an eye on Bones too. Why?
There was no doubt that Bones and I had hung around the fringes of the gang and weren’t core members. So why the hell did they even care? Did they know? How could they? Did they suspect?
“You there, Ash?”
“Yeah, just trying to think. I called to let you know about it and to tell you to watch your back too.”
“You gonna be around later? I can come by. Talk.”
“I’m taking Kathy later for a ride, an early dinner, then getting her home before dark.”
Bones chuckled. “What, she underage or something?
I smiled. “No, nothing like that. I just want to make her feel comfortable. It’s not like I’m used to dating someone like her.”
“You like her, don’t you?”