by Cheree Alsop
“I was hoping you’d come tonight.”
I touched her chin, and a jolt of electricity raced down my arm at the feeling of her skin under my fingers. “I was counting down the seconds until I could get away.”
A smile spread across her face and she looked up at me. “I’m hard on your work ethic.”
I shrugged. “What work ethic?”
She laughed, then covered her mouth and glanced at the house. “Let’s go,” she whispered.
I led her back across the lawn. She climbed onto the four-wheeler behind me and wrapped her arms gently around my waist, mindful of my bruises. The dogs fell in as I drove slowly up the road, taking the path between the fields to the wash hidden beneath a grove of reaching, thorny trees.
I offered Madelyn my arm and led her down the wash to the small knoll of grass that offered a lookout over the still pond. The surface was unbroken, reflecting the light of the half-moon with all the grace and expectant silence of a mirror.
“Where are the geese?” I asked. There was no one around for miles, but the crickets chirruped quietly around us and the sound of the wind brushing softly through the tall reeds captured the night in a blissful harmony I was reluctant to break.
“They left this morning,” Madelyn said. Her breath tickled my ear from where she leaned against me. “I heard them honking when I awoke and made it to the window in time to see them as little specks before they disappeared against the mountains.”
The wistful tone in her voice made me pull her closer against my side. “You’re not trapped here,” I reminded her. “Your father’s taking care of your mother. You can go when you’re ready.”
She let out a small sigh I barely heard, but didn’t reply. Instead, she sat on the grass and pulled me down beside her. “How was your day?”
It was my turn to sigh. “Magnum showed up dressed as the Black Rider.” I felt her head lift from my shoulder in surprise, but she kept silent, knowing I had more to say. I took my time trying to put into words how I felt. “I’m fine with the idea of a partner, especially if it gives him something to do and keeps the Bullets out of trouble.”
“But you’re the Black Rider,” she said softly.
I nodded. “It was my idea, but now I’m not so sure.”
She was silent for a few minutes and I waited, hoping she would say it was a crazy idea and Magnum shouldn’t be riding with me. Instead, she surprised me by saying, “I think you should see where it goes.”
I leaned back to look down at her. Maddy’s eyes captured the starlight, the gold flecks bright amid the green. “Why is that?”
Her forehead creased slightly and my heart clenched at the concern in her eyes. “You could use a bit of help once in a while,” she said, running a hand over my chest.
I breathed through my nose, willing my heartbeat to slow.
“You almost got killed, Kelson,” she continued, her voice tight as though the words were hard for her to say. “If someone else had been there to help, you might have gotten off better.”
My voice was thick when I replied, “It wasn’t so bad.”
Her lips pressed together to hide a smile. “Let me see how it’s healing.”
When I didn’t move, she slipped her fingers under the hem of my white T-shirt and slid it up. I obliged by raising my arms as far as my ribs would let me. She eased the shirt over my head and off my arms.
I let out a breath at the feeling of the night breeze against my skin and lay back on our little knoll. The cool grass tickled my back. Madelyn settled against my side, her head pillowed on my shoulder. Her long brown hair tickled my arm. I smiled at how good it felt to relax with the one person who knew everything about me.
Maddy’s fingers trailed softly across my chest, touching the purple bruises that splayed out from where the bullets had hit the vest a week before. “Does it hurt?” she asked.
“Only when I breathe,” I replied with a wry smile.
She turned her face toward mine. Her cheeks were rosy and highlighted by the moonlight that caressed her skin. I lifted a hand and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. It meant so much to me that she wore it down now that her uncle wasn’t a threat. A blush highlighted her cheeks, and the barest touch of light gold eye shadow accented her hazel eyes. She looked stunning. I felt a surge of gratitude that she no longer felt like she had to hide her beauty.
She tipped her head and her lips touched mine. My breath caught in my throat as I kissed her back. Her hand rested above my heart and I wondered if she could feel how it threatened to burst through my chest.
She smiled against my lips and then tipped her head down to kiss the four bullet bruises that made dark circles against my skin. The feeling of her lips on my chest made my heart pound even harder. I tipped my head back and let out a slow breath. Her lips brushed the healing gash across my shoulder Dr. Carrison had stitched up, and then she leaned back on one elbow to look down at me. “How about now?” she asked teasingly.
Her head blocked out the moonlight, her face a silhouette above me. Her hair tickled my neck as her vanilla scent filled my nose. I could still taste the kiss that lingered on my lips. “I can’t feel anything,” I said, my voice tight past the knot in my throat.
She let out a musical laugh and leaned against my shoulder again. “Good,” she said with a satisfied chuckle. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she set a hand above one of the bruises again, covering it with her fingers. “I do think having Magnum with you is a good idea,” she said, her voice somber. “I don’t want you to get hurt, and it might give you a break.”
I pulled her closer, touched by her concern. “I’ll give it a try.”
She nodded and ran her fingers lightly down my ribs. I closed my eyes and memorized the feeling of her hands on my skin.
I PULLED UP TO the Ashby house and parked the four-wheeler in the back near the barn. Jake walked to his bowl and took a few laps of water before he collapsed in an exhausted heap near the door. He wagged his tail when I walked by. I paused and patted his head.
“I don’t really like dogs,” I reminded him. “But I think you’re growing on me.” He swiped my hand with a sloppy, wet tongue. I made a face and wiped my palm on my jeans. “Thanks for that.”
I opened the back door and left my sneakers in the mudroom beside the myriad dress boots, sneakers, slip-on shoes, and farm boots from which wafted an odor that made me hurry past without identifying the substance caked to the soles. I grabbed one of Aunt Lauren’s dinner rolls from the breadbox on the counter and opened the fridge.
“You’re home late.”
I straightened at the sound of Mom’s voice. A twinge of guilt held me. I had forgotten she was there instead of in California where she had been a week ago. “Hi, Mom.” I gave her a quick hug and indicated the roll with a tip of my head. “Want one?”
She sat down at the table. “No, thanks. We had roast and potatoes earlier.”
“Farmers love their meat and potatoes,” I said as casually as I could.
Mom’s presence in the Ashby house threw me off. I had gotten used to the tiny niche I had found for myself, mildly ignored unless I was floundering through work on the farm or giving the cows names they retaliated against at milking time. Mom flew in when I was shot trying to distract gang members from taking out my loved ones and most of the small town of Sparrow at the town’s annual fair.
Her presence, while filling a gaping hole in my heart, had me walking on eggshells for fear that I would remind her of why she had sent me away in the first place.
“Did you have a good time at the junkyard?”
She managed to say it without the laughter that usually followed the question at the Ashby house, but I could see the curious light in her eyes.
“I wasn’t there the entire time,” I admitted. I grabbed the butter from the fridge, along with a jar of Aunt Lauren’s raspberry jelly, before sitting at the table.
Her eyebrows rose. “What else is there to do out here?” sh
e asked. Then her face lit up. “Is it that girl?”
I was tempted to say no, but I had never lied to my mother. I tore the roll open, then realized I had forgotten a butter knife. “Yes, Madelyn,” I said without meeting Mom’s eyes.
She let out a surprised laugh and clapped her hands.
I stared at her, wondering if she was crazy.
“I knew it,” she gushed. “I told Lauren there was something different about you, aside from the whole Black Rider thing.” She said it lightly as though it didn’t bother her, but we both knew she wasn’t thrilled with the idea of me riding a motorcycle as the city’s vigilante. I couldn’t help it that she had managed to arrive in Sparrow at my most painful moment as the Black Rider. I was grateful she chose not to confront the issue. “I told her Madelyn must be special to you, but she said you were too busy with school, the junkyard, and the motorcycle stuff to look at girls.”
“There’s always time for girls,” I said, surprising both of us with my candor.
A true smile spread across her face. “Tell me about her,” she asked eagerly.
I leaned back in my chair and slid open the silverware door. I managed to locate a butter knife without getting up. I waved it in the air triumphantly. Mom rolled her eyes as I spread butter inside the bread. “She’s beautiful,” I said.
I glanced up and met Mom’s blue eyes. They were so like my sister Zoey’s that for a moment I stared at her, my heart in my throat and memories pounding through my mind with the force of a freight train. I set the knife down and stared at the roll for a second.
“Are you okay?” Mom asked gently. Her tone reflected my heartache as if she guessed my thoughts.
I took a deep breath and nodded, forcing my mind back to Madelyn. “I didn’t think she was beautiful at first,” I admitted. I saw Mom’s eyebrows lift again from the corner of my eye and smiled down at the roll. “I just didn’t take a good look at her. She was reading on the bus and kept looking at me whenever I glanced her way.” I smiled at the memory. “Then she gave me a handkerchief in class after I got in a fight.”
“A fight!” Mom exclaimed.
I spread a generous helping of jelly across the roll and avoided meeting her gaze. “It wasn’t a big deal. I stopped the Bullets from destroying the set for a play. The lights were out and they could barely see me.”
“How many were there?” she asked.
I thought for a second. “Thirteen.” The number surprised me. I hadn’t thought of the Bullets in terms of individuals before. From the outside, it definitely appeared foolish to take them on by myself. I guess from the inside it had as well—I just didn’t care at the time.
Mom shook her head and opened her mouth to protest, but I hurried on, “That’s beside the point. When I was done with the handkerchief, I drove to her house to give it back to her. That’s when I really saw her.”
Mom’s expression softened and she waited.
“She’s incredible, Mom.” I searched for words to describe her. “She’s, well, she makes me feel like I can do anything, but also, I don’t know, vulnerable, like I’m just a kid.” I stopped, knowing how badly I was botching what I wanted to say. I shook my head. “She just makes me feel . . .” I blew out a breath. “Zoey would like her.”
I stared at Mom, suddenly aware of what I had just said. So many emotions flooded her eyes; I didn’t know what to say to make it better.
“Mom, I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I shouldn’t have—”
She shook her head, cutting me off. “If Zoey would like her, then I’ll like her too.” Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them flow over.
I set my roll down and leaned over the table, giving her an awkward hug. “Thanks, Mom,” I said, my own voice choked with the emotions I tried to hide. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She hugged me tightly, then sat back in her chair. “I’m glad to be here too.”
I watched her carefully. “Are you sure?”
She thought about it for a second before nodding. “I really am. I think we could start a good life out here.”
I was surprised at the intensity of the emotions that filled me at the thought of leaving California for good. There were bad memories, painful memories associated with our home, but leaving it behind permanently meant letting go of the good memories as well. I took a deep breath and let it out, then nodded. “I think so too.”
Mom rose from the table and patted me on the shoulder when she went by. “Get some sleep, kiddo. You’ve got school in the morning.”
“I will,” I promised.
She turned off the light in the hall. I stared at the roll, my appetite gone. I ran a hand through my brown hair. It was getting longer than I usually wore it. With all the cowlicks I had inherited from my dad, I had to keep it fairly short to be manageable.
I blew out a long breath at the thought of Dad and rose from the table. I tossed the roll out the back door to Jake, then made my way to the small living room. I collapsed on the cot next to the fireplace and kicked off my shoes, then shut my eyes. Firelight flickered on my eyelids, lacing its way through my dreams.
A KNOT OF DREAD tightened in my throat when I climbed onto the bus the next morning. Mondays were difficult, but I had the impression that this one was going to top it all.
Sure enough, as soon as Cassidy’s friend Sandy skipped onto the bus, I realized where the dread had been coming from. Sandy held her phone out to Cassidy and they both burst into laughter from the middle seats.
I slumped in the back seat next to Maddy. “You didn’t happen to check the Bulldog Bulletin, did you?” I asked casually.
Madelyn threw me a compassionate smile. “You mean the Bulletin with the front page picture of the Black Rider sharing his bike with what looked like a pot-belly trucker and a rider closely resembling Magnum? I may have laughed for an hour.”
I tipped my head against the back of the seat and moaned.
“It’s not that bad,” she tried to reassure me despite the smile she couldn’t keep from turning up the corners of her lips.
It didn’t help that all I wanted to do was kiss her. That would definitely make me feel better, if public displays of affection weren’t grounds for expulsion from the bus. Walking the fifteen miles to school definitely wouldn’t help my mood.
I settled for slipping my fingers through hers. “Skip school with me,” I said.
Her mouth fell open and a warm laugh escaped. “Kelson Brady is asking me to sluff with him?” She gave me a piercing look. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were trying to get me alone.”
“I think they call it parking, but I don’t have a car,” I answered with my most charming smile.
She tipped her head to the side as if considering. “I don’t suppose it’d be as fun on the motorcycle.”
I shrugged. “You could be known as the girl caught making out with the Black Rider.”
“Oh,” she said with a giggle. “You really do have a bad-boy flair, don’t you?”
I stared at her. “Did you just giggle?”
“No,” she blurted out, her cheeks turning red.
I nodded with a laugh. “You did. You just giggled!”
She shook her head quickly. “I laughed.”
I sat back. “Madelyn West giggled over the thought of making out with the Black Rider.”
Several heads turned our way. Madelyn’s eyes widened. I realized she feared that I might have blown my cover. I stood up in the back of the bus. “I’ll make out with the Black Rider,” I said. “That guy’s sexy.” Laughter erupted at my words. Cassidy and Sandy laughed the loudest. I sat back down and met Madelyn’s gaze. “Better?”
She rolled her eyes and laughed. “You’re hopeless.”
I grinned. “Hopeless with the thought of running away with you.”
She flashed a teasing smile. “You’re just trying to escape that picture of you with Magnum and the other guy on your motorcycle. It’s too bad, Kelson. You have to face both the fam
e and the hardship of your decisions.”
I let out a sigh of defeat and leaned back. “He was a truck driver running stolen merchandise.”
She nodded and brushed her fingers over mine. “I know; the article told how you guys pulled the truck over and then rescued the driver before it fell to the bottom of an abyss.”
“It says that?” I smiled despite the thought of the picture no doubt running like a virus through school before the day even started. “I guess that’s not too bad.”
“That’s not what happened?”
I laughed. “That’s mostly what happened. Let’s just say I owe Martin a thank you for always putting a positive spin on things.”
The bus pulled up to school and we climbed off. Sure enough, everyone was talking about the picture. I left Madelyn at calculus and slowly made my way toward English class through the rush of students. I was almost to the door when a shoulder caught mine and threw me into the lockers.
I forced down any show of the pain that laced through my ribs and turned around.
“Watch where you’re going, Keldon,” Magnum said with a sneer.
I kept my face carefully expressionless as I tried to figure out what he was up to.
Magnum tipped his head minutely to indicate the members of the Bullet gang that surrounded him. It dawned on me that he was putting on a show for them, trying to keep up the front. I dropped my eyes and stuttered, “Oh, um, s—sorry, Magnum. I didn’t see you there.” Magnum’s eyes widened slightly and I realized I had never apologized to the gang leader before. I was obstinate even when I wasn’t the Black Rider. I lifted my chin. “Guess it’s hard to see garbage with all these students crowding the hall.”
His eyes narrowed. I was good at taking it too far. My mouth often worked faster than my good sense. I gritted my teeth as his fist slammed into my stomach. I fell to my knees on the ground, wanting more than anything to take him down but knowing both of our covers depended on me taking on the role of the coward.
“Watch the garbage talk,” he growled in my ear.
Another member of his gang kicked me in the side. I sucked in a sharp breath to keep from yelling at the pain that stabbed through my healing ribs.