by Meg Ripley
Ryan didn’t think it was possible to see Lance go any paler, but he did. Then he turned around and saw Ryan and Mona standing side by side. Mona waved flirtatiously, and Ryan smiled.
“They lent it to me!” Lance said, and Ryan was impressed; he only sounded a little desperate, and he might have been convincing if his voice wasn’t shaking. “They lent it to me the other day. I guess they forget to tell you they found it.”
“I guess they did,” the cop said. “When they reported it stolen yesterday morning, and mentioned you as a primary suspect.”
The second cop started to put Lance in handcuffs. As he was being told his rights, Lance started to laugh—it was barely a laugh at all, more of a jagged scream filled with hatred.
“I’ll be out soon!” Lance said, his copper eyes now looking quite crazed. He was trying to jerk free of the handcuffs. “You can’t do this to me! I’ll be out soon!”
Mona walked over to him and got close enough to touch him—and she actually did, touching one hand to his cheek as gently as a lover’s embrace. He stilled, surprised, and Mona smiled.
“I think you’d better drug test him,” she said. “His eyes look pretty red.”
Lance looked so shocked he forgot to be angry. “I haven’t had any drugs, you idiot.”
It was then that Ryan realized his eyes weren’t red because of drugs – that was true. Lance’s eyes were red because he’d started crying.
“Oh, this is one for the history books,” Ryan taunted him as the cops got Lance into their car and slammed the door. “Lance Olsen is literally crying like a baby.”
“We’ll see how that helps him in jail,” Mona said.
They stood, arm in arm, and waved at Lance as the cops slowly pulled away and drove him back down the street to the precinct.
Approaching The Duke, Mona threw her arms around the bike and hugged it as thought it was a person… As though it was her father. “I’ve missed you, baby.”
“Hey, Myers,” Ryan said to her, tossing his helmet. “How about it?”
She caught his shiny black helmet and looked at him, surprised for a second before his meaning dawned on her. Giving a smirk, she placed his helmet onto her head and buckled it. Mona hopped on board her daddy’s old bike.
She took a deep breath and started its engine. This was going to be easy. This was just going to be a quick ride back to the bar. And she could take it as slowly as she needed to… Ryan was not going to let her get hurt.
****
After the slow ride back to Hog’s Grogs, Mona dismounted before bouncing excitedly up and down. She was so proud of herself.
“You did it!” Ryan said, stopping his bike a careful distance away from The Duke. She hadn’t even bothered to take off his helmet, and she looked so cute as she wore it, dancing around like a child who’d just learned to ride a bicycle on their own.
“That was exhilarating!” Mona exclaimed, beaming. “But how are we going to get it all the way back to our house?”
Our house. Ryan liked the sound of that. “I have an idea. You wait inside here. I’ll keep my bike parked in the lot and ride The Duke back home and make sure it’s safe there. Then I’ll come back and get you. Does that sound good?”
She nodded, still smiling. “Okay. That’s a good idea. Ride carefully.”
Mona removed her helmet and handed it over to Ryan, who swiftly put it on and mounted The Duke. She was sad to watch it ride away again, but she knew that it was in good hands. She gave the CopyCat a pat before heading into her bar.
With everything that had been happening in the past few days, Mona hadn’t really checked in on the place. She was happy to see, once she was inside, that it was as rowdy as ever. She smirked and sidled up to the bar, ordering herself a whisky sour from the bartender, Lenny.
“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said. “Are things still cool with you?”
She nodded a little and gave a sigh of relief. “Things definitely have gotten better, finally. I think everything is going to be pretty much back to normal soon.”
“Anything I should be aware of?”
Mona thought about it. “In about two years, if some guy by the name of Lance shows his face around here, show him to the door. He is no longer welcome.”
Lenny gave her a thumbs-up. “You got it, boss.”
He brought her the drink she’d asked for and she took a long sip of it, feeling smug that she had solved the issue that her club had been having. Finally, she could relax.
She just needed Ryan to come back.
Once her whisky sour was finished, she tipped Lenny even though she technically didn’t have to and headed back outside to find her boyfriend.
Was he her boyfriend now? They had not actually discussed it yet. Things kept getting in the way…
Just then, she realized that Ryan would need to walk back to the bar from her house. That wasn’t a long drive by any means, but on foot it was probably less fun.
She pulled out her cell phone and called him.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” she said. “I just realized that you could probably use a friend on your walk back. I’m sorry that I didn’t think of it before. I’ve just been so…”
Ryan chuckled. “I know. It’s okay. It’s really not that far. Besides, it’s a nice evening. Especially now.”
“I told Lenny not to allow Lance into the bar ever again. He is officially blacklisted.”
“Good thinking. Hopefully, once he’s out of jail, he will have lost interest in trying to be in our club.”
Mona laughed bitterly. “Trying to sabotage our club, more like… How big of a dumbass can he be?”
“Apparently a rather large one.”
They both laughed.
“Hey,” Ryan suddenly said, “when I get back there, do you want to go out with me again? I saw this restaurant downtown while I was riding.”
Mona smiled. “Ooh, a restaurant. Things are getting serious.”
The call ended and she decided that she would rather just wait beside Ryan’s bike. Ten minutes later, she saw him strolling along into the parking lot.
“Hey, stranger,” he said.
She ran over to him and gave him a hug. “How was your walk?” she asked him.
He shrugged. “It wasn’t so bad. How is the bar?”
“I had a whisky sour,” she told him. “I’d offer to buy you one, but you probably shouldn’t drink if you’re going to take me to dinner.”
Ryan laughed and put his arm around her as they walked back to CopyCat. “I’ll drink at dinner. Responsibly.” They got on the back of his motorcycle and sped away back towards downtown Detroit. As he drove, he pointed up ahead at this little hole in the wall place called Diesel.
Mona raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t ask him about it because he wouldn’t have been able to hear her very well over the engine anyway. They pulled in front of the place and he parked his bike in one of the street parking spots.
“I hate that that asshole’s got me paranoid about your bike getting stolen now,” she said to him once they had dismounted and stored their helmets away in the space under the seat.
“Don’t give that asshole the time of day,” Ryan replied. “You know, like before.” He smirked at her and took her hand.
The restaurant was not as fancy as he had made it out to be at first. Perhaps she had just assumed. It seemed to be decent enough, though. The smell of wood-fired pizza greeted them upon entry and they were quickly seated by the restaurant’s large, street-facing window.
“So, what are we going to do now that all of this is behind us?” Ryan asked as they waited for the pizza they were going to share. “I for one wouldn’t be opposed to becoming more discerning about who we let into our club.”
Mona smiled at him. “I think the people we have in with us now are enough. We’re a good bunch, now that we’ve weeded out some of the bad apples.”
Ryan smiled back at her. “Your dad would be really proud of you.”
> She felt a blush creep over her cheeks. “I know,” she said. At last, she knew and truly felt that Benny would be happy about the decisions she had made.
“Does that mean you’ll race with us next time?” Ryan asked, grinning cheekily and waggling his eyebrows at her.
Mona grabbed a rolled-up napkin and threw it at him, laughing.
He ducked and it hit the wall behind him before falling to the floor. “Hey, there was a knife in there!” he shouted. But he was laughing, too.
****
They could barely keep their hands off of each other on the ride home. As soon as Ryan and Mona made it inside and shut the front door to the house behind them, they started kissing each other deeply. He held her, back pressed against the door and they made out, tongues getting reacquainted with each other, before he finally swept her off her feet and carried her upstairs to their shared bed.
The way her body responded to him was astounding, and as he slid inside her, she knew he’d never want to be with anyone else. Mona’s legs locked around his waist as he hilted himself inside her velvety wetness, pulsing against her most sensitive place as he planted soft kisses on her neck and breasts. It was hard for him to pace himself at first, what with the fervor of the alcohol still running through his veins, but Mona locked her thighs around him and bucked her hips in time with his strokes, keeping his motion from breaking the slow and steady rhythm that brought her cries to a high-pitched frenzy.
After that, she flipped him over onto his back and braced herself on the thick muscle of his chest. Ryan was mesmerized by the way her body moved smoothly as he pushed his hips upward, her ecstasy written in the lines of her body and the melodious notes of her moans. She looked like a living work of art, her eyes sparkling with joy and need as she lowered her hips down the rigid length of his shaft. Ryan’s body was shivering with pleasure beneath her, his hands moving to cup her small breasts and pinch her erect nipples until her cries started to get higher and more breathless. Her energy seemed boundless, her strokes were fast and rhythmic—and she soon brought both of them to a screaming, spine-tingling orgasm that was quickly becoming the norm. Both of them would be more than happy to get used to this norm.
Mona slumped forward as his hands slipped down her back, his legs tensing as his pleasure neared its peak. Her lips covered his, and she pulled back to look at him just as her walls started to clench and spasm around his slick shaft. Ryan exploded inside her, and his vision had nearly faded to black as his body finally stilled underneath her, his breathing ragged and shallow.
Mona slid off him and started laughing. It took a while before Ryan’s breathing had steadied enough for him to ask what she was laughing about.
Smiling at him and resting her head against the tops of her knees as she held her bent legs up towards herself, she gazed at him with all the bliss the world could possibly contain. “I’m so glad you asked me out,” she said simply. Her tone sounded like she wanted to say more.
Ryan smiled so wide his cheeks started to hurt. “Is that so? You’re glad I asked you out?”
Mona nodded and kissed his cheek. “Ecstatic.”
She got out of bed and wrapped one of the white sheets around herself before heading out of the bedroom. Ryan put his boxers back on and followed her curiously. They padded down the hardwood stairs and went into the kitchen. He thought at first that she might be planning a snack before bed, but instead she opened the door to the garage.
Cautiously, Mona went down the steps. They were less smooth and safe for uncovered feet due to the fact that they were built of unsanded wood and there was a chance of nails jutting out from them. Benny had added the garage steps onto the house, and he was not exactly a carpenter.
Ryan flipped the light switch on and she jumped a little before turning around and smiling at him. He smiled back. “Hi.”
“Hello.”
They walked down to The Duke together and Mona gently touched its shiny teal frame. “While it was gone, it was like he was gone, you know?”
Ryan nodded slightly. “But it wasn’t really gone. And neither is he. You’ve done good, kid. Everything is going to be fine now. You’ll see. I think the Running Hill Riders have finally turned a corner towards getting back on track.”
She tilted her head a bit, gazing at her father’s bike. Then she shook her head. “Not yet. There’s still something I have to do before things will really get back to normal.”
Slowly, she straddled the motorcycle and lay down atop it as though she was hugging it. She closed her eyes. “We need to find a way to be more inclusive. I don’t want anyone to be out of the loop again for so long, just because they got hurt. That’s a rotten way to run things. No offense, Dad.”
Ryan chuckled a little. “Being out of the loop wasn’t so bad. It would have broken my heart to hear about everything and not be able to participate.”
Mona sat up and smiled at him a little. “That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about finding a way to have our injured riders in attendance at least. After all, wheelchairs still have wheels.”
Ryan wasn’t quite sure what she was saying. Was she planning to start racing players in wheelchairs? “This doesn’t sound safe…”
She laughed. “It would be perfectly safe. They could work the merch table or control the numbering system. Just because you’re in a wheelchair or a neck brace doesn’t mean you can’t do anything anymore. I know I still want Weasel around.”
He thought about it. “I don’t know. It might scare people who come to see us race.”
She shrugged. “It would be a silent warning about the fact that there are risks.” She got up off the bike then and wandered back to the steps before turning her head towards Ryan. “Are you coming, vice president? Or need I conduct everything entirely by myself?”
Laughing, Ryan followed her. “Hey! Who got your bike back?”
****
The following day, Mona and Ryan went to visit Weasel. He was laid up in bed with his broken leg and banged up arm, but his spirits were obviously lifted at the sight of his friends coming into his bedroom. “I was beginning to wonder if you guys had forgotten about me,” he teased.
Mona sat on his bed, tisking. “Oh, don’t even say that.”
“How are you feeling?” Ryan asked.
Weasel smiled. He had cuts and bruises on his face, but seeing him smile still made them glad; it worked to brighten up his expression and make him look much less wounded. “I’m definitely feeling better now.”
“Great,” Mona replied. “We hoped so. We’ve been thinking… Would it help you if you were able to come to races, even though you can’t race in them?”
She was hesitant to say ‘can’t participate’ because what she was planning involved participation from everyone who was willing and able.
Weasel didn’t even pause. “Yes!” he said with a nod. “I’d much rather be out there with everyone than holed up in here with nothing to do except reading and watching motocross on TV.”
Mona beamed at him. She had guessed correctly. “That’s what we thought! Ryan and I were thinking that it might be a good idea to have you at games, working our merchandise table or taking bet money, or anything you feel like doing. What do you think?”
Sitting up in bed, Weasel favored his left arm so as not to jostle his injured right arm and scooted himself up into a sitting position in his excitement. “I think that sounds great! I’d be more than happy to help you guys out, no matter what.”
“Of course, the number one way you’ll help us out is by getting better.”
Weasel smiled and gingerly touched his leg. “I’m working on it.”
****
After the calamity of their last race, Mona wasn’t sure if anyone would want to show up for another one, but when she arrived at the track with Ryan on the back of CopyCat, she smiled when she saw all of the club members assembled. They were laughing and talking together as they set everything up. She could not have been more proud to see th
em there. She also felt more than a little touched. Maybe no one saw her as a screw-up after all.
“Hey!” Arthur said when he saw them, waving them over. “There you two lovebirds are. Weasel was just wondering whether or not you were going to race, Mona.”
She smiled and blushed a little bit, both at ‘lovebirds’ and at the question of racing. Although she had been learning how to ride The Duke, she still was not good enough to want to ride a far distance, let alone be very fast about it. “I’d better not,” she said honestly. “I’ll be your fearless leader behind the scenes while Ryan is your fearless leader on the track.”
Ryan placed his arm around her, smiling fondly. “Every team needs a mastermind, after all.”
As promised, Weasel was there behind the table with the merchandise and the wagers. He was sitting there in his wheelchair looking rather like a king. Mona was sure that he’d be able to be a part of things like that, instead of sitting at home or merely watching from the sidelines.
After affixing his number to his helmet, Ryan turned to Mona and gave her a kiss. “See you at the finish line?” he asked her.
She grinned back at him. “I’m already there.”
He put his helmet on and got atop CopyCat, riding it to the starting line in the track. Mona got a seat close to Weasel, to help him out at the table and keep him company. They had some awesome shirts, totes and mugs for sale that were designed by the wives of some of the Riders. As the racers got on their marks, she wondered if someday she was going to be a wife of one of the Riders. Number nine on the back of the shiny, black bike specifically.
A shot was fired and the motorcycles took off down the lanes. The roaring engines were now all that could be heard over the cheers as the line of twenty bikes went around and around the track. This was the first race of the day and they had scheduled four more. Mona hoped that they would all go smoothly and they wouldn’t be sending any more riders home on stretchers.