by Cheree Alsop
I nodded. “How much?”
“It’s on the house.” A big man with a used-to-be-white apron tied around his generous belly strode to the counter. He wiped a few remnants of shredded cheese from his fingers and held out a hand. “It’s an honor to have you visit my establishment, Black Rider.”
“Thank you, sir,” I replied, shaking his hand and trying not to sound as taken aback as I felt.
“After all you’ve done, anything you want here is on the house,” he said.
“Can that apply to us as well?”
I turned to see a few players from the basketball team and Thompson, the tall, skinny boy from the Bullet gang. Apparently Magnum wasn’t the only one searching for a new outlet. The boys had been eating a pizza at a corner booth, but they ambled up as they spoke.
“Ben, if I gave you the same deal, you’d eat this place out of business,” the owner said with a deep chuckle. “Nice try, though.” He looked back at me. “Thanks again. Your pizzas will be out soon.” He disappeared behind the giant oven.
“Thank you,” I replied. I leaned against the counter and studied the basketball players who watched me curiously.
“Didn’t take you for the pizza type,” Ben said.
I shrugged. “Is there another type?”
He grinned. I noticed Thompson watching me warily from the back of the group. I tipped my head toward him. “Glad to see you found a new hobby.”
“Beats beatin’ on you,” he replied.
The air thickened with tension, but it broke when the laugh I tried to hold in rolled out despite my efforts. “As I recall, I gave you a couple of good punches.”
A begrudging smile touched his lips that looked unused to such an expression. “You could say that.”
“Were you the one who took my uniform?” a boy demanded from the table the basketball players had just vacated.
It took me a minute to recognize him as the boy I swiped the mascot outfit from at the football game. I wondered just how incriminating admitting it would be.
“Were you the one pretending to be the mascot?” Thompson pressed.
I glanced around the room. My heart sank when I saw Martin in the corner with a full pizza in front of him. His complete attention was on our conversation along with the rest of the room. I knew whatever I said would end up in the next Bulldog Bulletin.
“Were you?” the mascot boy asked. I heard a note of desperation in his voice and wondered just how much trouble I had given him. The least I could do was clear his name.
I nodded. “Sorry about the knife.” I gestured toward Thompson. “The Bullets didn’t exactly fight fair.”
“That’s the name of the game,” Thompson said with a grin. He rubbed a hand over his shaved head. “But those paws hurt.”
“I don’t know how you move in that thing,” I told the boy who wore the mascot costume. “It’s like fighting in a giant pillow.”
Several people in the room laughed. The mascot joined them. “You’re not supposed to fight in it,” he said with a chuckle.
“I don’t know,” another basketball player said. “I saw you getting violent with the hawk from Fairfield last week.”
The boy’s cheeks turned red, but he looked at me. “Just taking a few notes from the Black Rider.”
I laughed and held up my gloved hands. “I will not take the blame for a mascot throw-down.”
“I could lend you the costume again if the other team’s giving us a hard time,” the boy said.
“I might consider that,” I replied. Everyone laughed.
“Black Rider, your pizza’s up,” the owner said from behind the counter. I pulled a twenty from my pocket and tried to hand it to him, but he waved it away. “Keep it. I mean what I say. You eat free here whenever you want.”
“Thank you very much,” I replied, touched. “I really appreciate it.”
His eyes narrowed slightly and he looked around the room. “Keep an eye out for the feds. They’ve been askin’ around.”
I nodded. “So I heard. Thanks for the warning.”
Ben held open the door and I stepped into the night with two boxes of pizza and a smile that wouldn’t leave my face. I was almost to my motorcycle when I heard footsteps behind me.
“You got a new bike,” Martin said.
I breathed a silent sigh and turned around. “Changing things up a bit.”
He nodded. “I hope it throws them off your trail for a while. I heard they’re getting pretty close.”
“Where’d you hear that?” I asked, curious.
He grinned. “I have my sources.”
“That’s a very reporterish thing to say.” I set the pizzas on the tank of the motorcycle, wondering for the first time how I planned to carry them.
Martin ran a hand through his hair and straightened his glasses. I was tempted to leave, but I could tell he was working up the courage to ask me something, so I waited. “Could you do me a favor?” he finally said in a tentative voice far different from the bravado he usually exuded.
“What do you need?” I asked warily.
“Could—” He stopped and swallowed as if he was losing his nerve. When I waited, he took a deep breath and said quickly, “Could you come to the football game tomorrow and let me take a picture to show your support of Sparrow High?”
I shook my head. “That would be a bad idea. The FBI is getting a little too close. I don’t want to risk them waiting for me.”
He held up a hand. “Just for a few minutes. Come take a picture, and then you can leave. It’d just be great for the Bulletin.”
I remembered how he always made the Black Rider look good, even to the point of embellishing my accomplishments. Martin may have been a journalist through and through, but he had never thrown dirt on the Black Rider’s name. I nodded. “Okay. I’ll be there.”
He stared at me as if amazed I had agreed. “You mean it?” he squeaked.
I nodded. “I owe you my gratitude for your stories, even if they do get a little extravagant.”
He straightened his glasses and grinned. “I’m pleased that you read them. It’s all for the sake of good journalism,” he said. “And I really don’t go that far. You do most of it yourself.”
I climbed onto the motorcycle without a word and started the engine. Without a better idea, I kept the pizza boxes balanced on the tank and my legs. I gave Martin a salute Jagger would have been proud of, then pulled slowly from the parking lot.
By the time I arrived at Magnum’s door, I vowed never to order pizza while riding a motorcycle again. I shoved my outfit in my backpack and hid the bike behind his house, then carried the somewhat tattered boxes to the rickety porch. The steps squeaked as I made my way to the door. I was surprised when Magnum was the one who answered, but the look on his face made it all worthwhile.
“Am I glad to see you,” he said. “Derek and Tommy have eaten pretty much everything in sight. I’m beginning to think they’re part goat.” He opened the door wide so I could enter.
Jessica sat at the stained coffee table with an open math book lit by the glow of a lamp without a shade. She glanced up, then a smile spread across her face. “Feelin’ better?”
I remembered Magnum’s visit to the hospital. “Thanks for the flowers.”
A blush touched her cheeks, making her hair look even redder. “You’re welcome.” She rose and hurried from the room without looking back.
I grinned and followed Magnum to the kitchen. The second I opened a box, footsteps ran down the hall.
“Pizza, pizza!” Tommy shouted.
“I call a box to myself,” Derek yelled.
They collided against the table, a whirlwind of red hair, dirty elbows, and swinging fists. Magnum pulled them both apart while I held the pizza boxes over my head.
“Settle down or you won’t get any of it,” he barked.
That sobered them up. They stood eyeing the boxes I set on the plastic table. “Everyone gets two slices, then we’ll go from there,” Magnum sa
id. He handed out paper plates and I set the slices on them. Both brothers took the plates and rushed off to the living room.
“Jessica,” Magnum called.
“I’ll eat later,” she shouted from the back of the house.
He set the plate on the counter and shook his head. “Usually she’s the one fighting for pizza first. Girls.” He grabbed a slice and took a big bite, then gestured toward the boxes. “Thanks for those.”
I shrugged. “After that ride, I would have been too tired to make anything for dinner.”
He nodded gratefully and took another slice. “You call Maddy yet?”
I hesitated, then shook my head.
“What’s stopping you?” he asked, surprised.
I avoided meeting his gaze and leaned against the counter. “I’ve tried, but she won’t answer.”
“Try again,” he said. “It’s as easy as that.” He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and tossed it to me. “Don’t even pretend you don’t know her number by heart.”
He slid two more slices of pizza onto his plate and wandered into the living room to give me some privacy.
I studied the phone for a few minutes, then sighed. I set his phone on the table and slipped mine out of my pocket where I had been hoping it would ring all day. I dreaded the sound of her voicemail, empty tones with empty promises because she didn’t call back. I closed my eyes and hit the speed dial. The phone rang four times and my heart sank. Just before the voicemail answered, there was a pause.
“Kelson?” The sound of Madelyn’s voice made my heart pound. I didn’t know what to say. All the doubts that had been flooding my mind at her silence made it impossible to come up with a single word. I swallowed dryly, hoping she wouldn’t hang up. “Kelson, I’m so sorry.”
The heartache in her voice ate at me, freeing me from the chaos of my thoughts. “Don’t be sorry.”
“I should have answered,” she said, the misery in her voice making it crack. “I just didn’t know what to say.”
“You’ve never had problems talking to me.”
“I know. It’s just being here all by myself makes all the memories come back so real.” Her voice choked off, then she said, “I would have killed him if you hadn’t stopped me.”
I wanted to hold her. My arms ached to wrap around her and press her close against my chest, letting her know she was safe. The distance between us felt insurmountable even though we spoke as if we were in the same room. “You’re not a killer,” I replied.
“I would have been, Kel. If you hadn’t been there, I would have cracked his skull with that bat.” Her voice quieted even as it became thicker with pain. “And I don’t think I would have regretted it. I’m not a good person, Kelson.”
“Yes, you are,” I said firmly. “He did horrible things to you, terrible things. No one should have gone through what you did, especially a young girl trapped at home because of her mother’s condition. You were a victim, Maddy. It wasn’t your fault.” I put every ounce of conviction into my voice, willing her to believe the truth. “I almost killed him the first time I beat him behind the bar. Magnum stopped me. I wanted to kill him.”
Her voice was barely a whisper when she said, “I wish you would have.”
I told her the truth. “Me too.” It would have saved her from the fear, the heartache, and the regret and guilt she carried with her if I had ended his miserable life that day behind the bar. Perhaps the Black Rider would be no more; perhaps I would be in jail for murder, but I wouldn’t hear the anguish in Madelyn’s voice and know the guilt she would carry for the rest of her life.
“I miss you so much,” she said.
My heart leaped at her words despite the pain with which she said them. “I miss you too.” I took a breath to slow my heart. “It’s been difficult here.”
She let out a small breath. “I got your text about the candlelight ceremony. I’m glad you went.”
I shook my head even though she couldn’t see me. “I didn’t know if I should.”
She let out a whisper of a fond laugh. “One of these days you need to take the credit you deserve. Sparrow loves you.”
“Yours is the only love I care about.”
She fell silent for a moment. My heart clenched with doubt, worried things had changed. I shouldn’t have pushed it; I would rather wait forever hoping there was still love than know with a certainty I had lost it.
Time stood still until she said, “I love you with all my heart, Kel. Whenever I feel like I’m falling apart, I think of that night we laid on the grass by the pond. I felt so safe in your arms, so loved. I don’t know why you care about me so much.” She sniffed quietly. “Especially after everything with Uncle Mitch, but I care about you so much, you’re all I think about.” Her voice took on a wry twist that made me smile. “And all I talk about, according to Aunt Masey.”
I took a deep breath, letting it fill up my lungs as full as they would go. When I let it out, I felt the tension ease from my shoulders and release the grip on my heart. She loved me. No matter what, Madelyn was mine and I was hers.
“I can’t tell you how good it feels to hear you say that. I guess I worried you were enjoying the distance without me,” I admitted.
“If I could come home to you, I would,” she said.
My heart soared with her words. When Zoey died, my sense of home had died with her. Even though I had a place at the Ashbys’ and my mom was there, it was missing that feeling of belonging, of warmth and comfort and all the things that made up a true home. Whenever I thought of Madelyn, I felt those things; it was only until she phrased it that way that I realized she was truly my sense of home.
When I was with her, I was more myself than I had been since I left California. She broke down my walls and accepted who I was without them. I felt better about who I was when I was around her, and she made me see things about myself I never knew existed. Madelyn was my safe place, my soul mate, my home. I missed her with all of my heart. “I need to see you again,” I said.
“I don’t think Dad would bring me back just to visit.” Her wish to do so hung heavily in her voice.
“I wish there was something you could come back for.” I had my head in my hand while my elbow rested on my knee. Something sharp struck me in the shoulder. I jerked back and looked at Magnum in surprise.
“Cassidy’s party, idiot!” he said in a loud whisper.
I almost laughed out loud. Somehow in the midst of Maddy’s confession about how she felt regarding Mitch and the confirmation of her continued love, I had forgotten entirely about Cassidy’s party. I grinned at Magnum and said into the phone, “The Ashbys are throwing a party to celebrate Cassidy’s sixteenth birthday on Wednesday. She would love for you to be there. Think your dad would go for it?”
My words hung in the air a moment, then she said with excitement in her voice, “I think he would! He knows we’re friends. I’ll ask him and let you know as soon as I can.”
After we said good-bye, I hung up and looked out the tattered kitchen blinds at the night beyond.
“A smile like that means she’ll be there,” Magnum ventured.
I turned to find him leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed and a smug expression on his face.
“She’s going to try,” I said. “Thanks.”
He shrugged. “It’s the least I can do to repay you for the pizza.”
He followed me to the motorcycle. I pulled on my helmet. “Guess I’ll be seeing you at the game tomorrow. Martin saw me at the pizza house and made me agree to take a picture showing school support.”
Magnum snorted. “I’ll bet he doesn’t sleep tonight because he’s up writing an epic article about it even though it hasn’t happened yet.”
“I’ll bet you’re right,” I said. I stared the motorcycle. “Don’t lose the game or it’ll ruin his article.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry. We’ve got Meadowland beat already.”
I chuckled as I pulled out of the driveway and into
the night.
There was something nameless and wonderful about riding the roads on a machine able to do anything I asked of it. The Er-6n was great, but it had been an older model and already driven hard before I owned it. The CBR was new and had been fitted with all the latest equipment. It responded immediately to every touch. I wanted to race it at the factory and see how it held up against the others.
EVERYONE WAS EXCITED ABOUT the game. Banners that proclaimed the Bulldogs would destroy the Meadowland Meadow Larks lined the hallways. As far as mascots went, we already had them beat, according to pictures of a bulldog on steroids beating up a little bird much like old Tom and Jerry cartoons. Apparently violence didn’t matter as long as it was painted on poster paper in our black and yellow school colors.
The thought of showing up to the game dressed as the Black Rider made me nervous. I nodded at the deputy stationed at the back door as I made my way back from the gym. Deputies at the school were a familiar sight since the Brown Hawk gang’s attack. I was just glad he was one of Sheriff Bowley’s men instead of an FBI agent.
A shoulder slammed against mine.
“Watch where you’re going, Keldon.”
I fought back a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t see you walking there.”
Magnum glared at me with a few members of the original Bullet gang following behind.
“What are you gonna do to him?”
We both looked over at the angry voice. Uzi, Colt, and Snipe stood glaring at Magnum. I wished I knew their real names so I didn’t have to think of them in terms of Bullets, because by the way they were looking, they had disbanded completely from Magnum’s leadership.
“Your beatings are pathetic, unless you want to show him what a real beat-down feels like,” Uzi said. He toyed with one of the rings in his eyebrow and studied me like I was fresh meat.
A crowd began to form around us. I met Magnum’s gaze and lifted a shoulder just enough that he would notice it. His eyes widened slightly.
“I wouldn’t mind showing him who’s really boss around here,” Uzi said, taking a step toward me.
“We all know who’s really boss,” Magnum growled.