King's Road

by Lane Hart

  “One.” She grins, grabbing up two straws.

  “My, we are getting friendly, aren’t we,” I comment, finally releasing her hand so she can walk over to the soda fountain.

  “Not yet, but we will soon,” she teases me.

  Once we sit down, she sticks both the straws in the soda and we lean over it together, our noses almost touching. My mouth is incredibly dry, partly from riding but mostly from the woman in front of me. I take a long pull on the straw, noticing at the last instant that Sasha isn’t drinking, but is instead grinning devilishly. I find out why an instant later, when the strangest mix of flavors I’ve ever tasted washes out my mouth.

  I jerk back from the straw with my lips puckered, while Sasha bursts out laughing. “Man, I think they need to change the cartridge, that tastes awful!” I snort. “What did you put in there?”

  “Everything!” Sasha giggles. “I like to mix them up, so I hit the root beer, the coke, even the tea!”

  “Even the tea? You heathen, no one pollutes a southern gentleman’s tea! I call shenanigans too, you didn’t sip that mess. You don’t really drink mess like that!”

  “Shenanigans!” Sasha’s giggles turn into a peal of laughter. “Oh my god, that’s hilarious. Have you seen Super Troopers?”

  “Not in a while,” I reply, as I get up to go dump out the mess she created in our cup. “Let’s watch it together some time. I love that movie.”

  When I get back to the table with a normal beverage, Sasha is already peeling off the crusty edges of our funnel cake. “I like that idea,” she tells me. “Smart of you to go ahead and plan our next date too. If something happens and this one goes sour, you’ve already got a contingency plan.”

  I pick up the funnel cake and take a huge bite. “A smart man always plans several steps ahead,” I tell her seriously after I swallow. Or as seriously as I can, with powdered sugar covering half my face.

  After we finish off the cake, we stick our straws back in the cup, foreheads touching as we actually finish off the drink this time. We clasp hands again on our way out the door and stay glued together for the next hour as we walk around the boardwalk. I show her the arcade I spent a lot of time in growing up, and she insists on dragging us inside to play skee-ball. Once we’ve burned through all my change, we head back outside.

  “Over here is the tattoo parlor where a lot of the guys in the club get their ink,” I tell her as we pass by the shop, brightly-lit with all manner of flashing neon signs.

  “I want to get a tattoo!” Sasha blurts out.

  “Ha!” I snort. “What are you thinking about getting, a butterfly? Maybe…oh, god forbid, maybe a tramp stamp?”

  She smacks me in the chest with her free hand. “What kind of girl do you think I am? A tramp stamp? That’s a terrible term! Lower back tattoos can be sexy. But no, I would get something meaningful, something important to me. I don’t know what exactly, but it would have to be special.”

  “Well, when you think of what you want, you let me know. I’ll bring you myself,” I promise her. “I’m going to be here soon enough. I’ve got a design for a sleeve I want to get done.” I motion to my right arm with the hand she’s clasping.

  “God, that would be sexy,” she practically purrs at me, leaning in to press herself against me. “I want to come with you when you get inked, maybe get some ideas for something I would like done. I want to see how a big tough guy like you handles the needle too!”

  “It shouldn’t be too bad,” I tell her. “It’ll probably be rough around my elbow, but the upper arm and forearm are meaty. My back is going to be rough, they’ll be going across the spine and some rib areas, I’ve heard those are unpleasant.”

  “Who do you know with back tattoos?” she asks.

  “All the members of my MC have the Savage Kings’ emblem on their back. Once I’m patched in, I’ll be getting it too. It’s a rite of passage. I’m excited about it. The club isn’t just a hobby. Being a brother in the MC is going to set me up for life,” I explain.

  “Set you up for life? You going to be a ‘made man,’ like the Godfather or something like that?” She grins at me.

  “Eh, not quite like that. The MC owns some businesses in the area, and my brother Torin is already talking about expanding our holdings when he gets back from the Army. Like this tattoo shop, for example. Torin told me he’d like for the club to own our shop, maybe even recruit a brother who is really good at ink to do all of our art for us. Those shops are damn good earners too.”

  “So, what would you be doing to ‘earn’ once you’re a member? Do you have a job with this club?”

  “Nah, I’m still learning the ropes right now. Yesterday, I went out on a repossession. They’ll probably have me doing that for a while. Besides the towing and scrapyard the club runs, there’s an auto shop where we work on cars and bikes. The MC used to make money doing some racing when Fast Eddie was younger, but he’s too old and beat up to drag race bikes anymore.”

  “Drag racing? I would love to see that! Do they still do it around here?”

  “Yeah,” I confirm. “We do some bike modifications for some local racers, and they hold exhibitions every few months. That’s another date we can plan, how about that?”

  “I love it,” Sasha agrees. “You can ink that into your calendar for us too. Now, where are we headed next?”

  “Let’s walk out on the pier,” I tell her, pulling her in that direction. We’re close by, and as I lead her through the front doors, she pauses to read the sign detailing the fees.

  “It says we need five bucks just to walk out there and hang out.” She sighs. “I always thought that was a rip-off! You bought the cake, so I’ll pay for this,” she offers.

  “No need,” I reassure her. I nod to the young guy at the register, jerking a thumb over my shoulder and turning to show him my cut. He gives me a nod and waves us on past.

  “Oh, I see how it is,” Sasha grins. “You tough guy bikers get preferential treatment, just get to walk right on by if you don’t cause any trouble?”

  “No.” I laugh. “The club owns this pier. My Uncle Deacon bought it after a hurricane blew through back in the eighties, and tore it up. He had it rebuilt. These places make good money off of tourists. Seriously, the club has all sorts of ways to earn money. They’ll find a good spot for me once I’ve learned all the ins and outs of their businesses.”

  “You’re not going to end up riding a register at the pier, are you? Something tells me you might be a little off-putting to some of the tourists.” She laughs.

  “Hey, that’s rough! You think I would scare away the fishermen?” I joke. “Nah, don’t worry, club brothers don’t do that sort of menial labor. They actually hire locals to help with that sort of thing. I’ll be doing more…respectable work. Yeah, that’s a good word for it, respectable.”

  As we’re talking, we walk the length of the pier, passing by a few fishermen idly checking their lines. Nothing seems to be biting, except for one unlucky old fellow who hauls in a stingray just after we pass him. Once we’re out at the end of the pier, Sasha unzips the jacket she has been wearing and stands facing the ocean as the chilly breeze ruffles her long blonde hair.

  I can’t resist raising a hand to touch it as it floats around her shoulders, winding a thread of her thick golden waves around my finger. She turns to me with a smile and places a hand on my chest, before her other arm slides under my cut and around my back, gripping my t-shirt and pulling me closer to her.

  “It’s beautiful out here,” she comments as she snuggles her head into my chest, still looking out over the ocean.

  “I’ve always loved the coast,” I reply, looking down and still playing with the curl of her hair. “But I think I’ve found something even more beautiful out here.”

  The two of us go quiet as I try to soak up every detail of this day, committing the sweet flavor of funnel cake on my lips, the salty smell of the ocean, and Sasha’s warmth pressed against me all to my memory. In just a few days,
everything in my life seems to be changing in the best way. I hesitate with whether or not I should tell her what I’m thinking right this second. If it were anyone else, I’d probably keep my mouth shut. But Sasha is…different, so I ask her, “Have you ever had a moment where you get a feeling…where you know nothing in your life is ever going to be the same?”

  “I think I’m about to,” Sasha whispers as she turns her head up to me, the longing in her eyes telling me she feels the same as I do.

  I only have to bend down slightly for our lips to meet for the first time, her soft moan filling my mouth as she pulls me to her. My hand that had been twirling her hair slips to the back of her neck, the two of us struggling to draw even closer together. As the kiss grows more passionate, our tongues seek each other out, the next few minutes of pure bliss sealing us together in ways that I somehow knew would affect the course of our lives.

  When we finally part, both of us flustered and breathless, a series of splashes and chirps draw our eyes to the water below us. “Dolphins!” Sasha cries, pulling me to her and leaning both of us over the rail to get a better view. A pod of the beautiful creatures leaps and calls out just below us at the end of the pier, almost seeming to cheer and celebrate for the two of us.

  “I think they want to see more,” I comment, as I use my hand on the back of Sasha’s neck to gently pull her attention back to me.

  “Well, let’s make sure our encore is memorable for them,” she whispers as she pushes me against the rail, pressing herself into me and grabbing my face in both of her hands to kiss me.

  I’m not sure how long we would have stayed out there, if Sasha’s cell phone hadn’t started buzzing. My hand finds its way into her back pocket, lingering longer than is absolutely necessary on her bottom, before sliding her phone out and handing it to her as she steps away from me.

  “Hi, Mom,” Sasha says as she answers, out of breath. She cups her hand around the phone, trying to cover it as much as possible from the wind. “Sure, put a plate in the microwave for me, and I’ll be back home later. Okay, thanks, Mom. Love you!”

  “I guess I’ll need to get you back soon,” I tell her, unable to hide the regret in my voice.

  “Don’t worry, Chase. Remember we already scheduled quite a few future adventures. When do you want to get back together and hang out? After school again sometime this week, or maybe this weekend?”

  We start walking back down the pier, our hands automatically seeking each other out. “I have some club business tomorrow afternoon, but if they stick to the same schedule, I’ll have every other day off. Let me check tomorrow, and then we can figure it out. Sound good?”

  “Sounds good,” Sasha agrees.

  “Do you want me to take you back to your house, or should we head back to school?”

  “Drop me off back at the school. My dad is letting me drive one of the used cars from his lot until my Mustang is ready. I’ll round it up and then head home.”

  We make it back to my motorcycle, and get our helmets on, with only a brief break for more kissing. Once Sasha is secure behind me, we ride back to the school. The sun is starting to set, the early evening sky painted in streaks of purple, red, and orange. It’s the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen, and I know I feel that way because of the woman riding with me.

  Sasha points out the car she’s using once we’re back in the school parking lot, though I probably could have guessed which one was hers. It’s a newer model Mustang, and one of the last vehicles left on the lot. Once I park beside it, we get off the bike, both of us moving slower as the time for us to separate draws closer.

  “Before I go,” Sasha says, as she hands me her helmet, “there’s one more thing I wanted to ask you.”

  “Shoot,” I reply. “Anything you want to know. For you, I’m an open book.”

  “You mentioned this morning that you stayed out at your MC’s clubhouse last night. This is probably stupid, but…are there a lot of women that hang out there?”

  Before I can answer, she holds up a hand to stop me. “Wait,” she continues. “Let me rephrase the question. I don’t actually care if there are women at your clubhouse. What I want to know, Chase Fury, is how many girls are you currently seeing? This thing between us feels…it’s special, something I haven’t felt before. If you’re playing around, or…”

  “Stop,” I tell her gently, as I put her helmet down and grab her hands. “I get it. The motorcycle, the club, the lifestyle, of course you’re worried. Yes, there are women who hang out around the clubhouse, trying to hook up with the guys. You don’t have to worry about them. I’m not seeing anyone else. I’m not interested in anyone else. I had a feeling as soon as I saw you, a feeling that turned into a certainty once I got to spend time with you. Sasha, whatever this is between us…I want it. No, I need it. I have to have it. I mean, just the thought of you leaving now makes me feel like I…”

  “Makes it kind of hard to breathe,” Sasha finishes.

  “Exactly,” I confirm as I wrap her up in a hug. “I’ve never felt like this with anyone. I can’t stand to leave, and I can’t wait for tomorrow to come so we can see each other again. But look, I know you have to get home, so just remember…if you want me, I’m yours.”

  “Does this mean I can call you my boyfriend? You and me, no one else?”

  “You’re damn right, Sasha. You and me, no one else. Now, get yourself home before you get grounded or something. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Thanks for today, Chase. See you tomorrow!” Sasha waves as she walks around her car and climbs in. I crouch down by the passenger side to watch her, then wave as she begins to drive away. Once she’s out of the lot, I finally get back on my bike, suddenly feeling exhausted after all the excitement of the last two days.

  Before I leave, I pull out a cigarette and sit on my motorcycle, thinking over our date and trying to decide where to go for the night. I already love the clubhouse, but I haven’t brought any of my clothes there yet and know my parents are worried about me. I decide to head on back to their house to spend some time with them and reassure them that everything is going well.

  Besides, I want to tell someone, anyone, about Sasha.

  I thought Deacon offering me my cut was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I had no idea, just a short time later, I would meet a woman who would mean even more to me.

  Chapter Eight

  The next few weeks pass by in a blur, flashes of backbreaking labor and exhausting workouts interspersed with blissful days filled with Sasha’s presence. Every moment I wasn’t working for the club or training with Reese, she and I were together. We met each other’s parents, mine seeming much happier about the relationship than hers, ate dinner at one another’s houses, studied together, and only parted ways when the nights drove us apart. Though it took every bit of my willpower, I respected her too much to push our physical relationship too quickly. Sasha confided in me early on that she was a virgin, and I was determined that I would wait until hell froze over, or until we got married, if that was what she wanted.

  The unusual streak of warm weather in January that allowed me to ride my motorcycle only lasted a week, but by that time, Sasha was already coming over to my house in the mornings to pick me up. I would have driven my truck to her house, but since I was on her way and the car she was borrowing from her dad’s dealership was much nicer, she insisted on taking us to school. Riding with her was one of my favorite parts of the day. We had a chance to play all the music that was close to our hearts, showing each other what we enjoyed, and engage in frequent hot and heavy make out sessions that left the windows fogged over.

  Our automotive technology class went to work on Sasha’s Mustang with an almost religious passion. By the second week of February, the last coat of red paint was dry, and on the twelfth of the month, Mr. Aikens gathered our class together and pronounced that we would all be getting an A for the semester, due to the exemplary work that had been displayed.

  “Thanks f
or driving me to school today,” Sasha says to me as we stand together in the parking lot after school by her newly restored cherry-red Mustang.

  “You don’t have to thank me for that, sweetheart. Hell, there have been a lot of country songs written about getting girls like you into a pickup truck.”

  “You know any songs about girls in hot rods picking up bikers?” Sasha asks with a smile.

  “When people see us together, one will get written, watch and see.”

  “I’m so glad it got finished before Valentine’s Day. You have club stuff tomorrow, but we’re still on for Thursday night, right?” she asks.

  “Of course we’re on. It’s our first Valentine’s Day together. The guys know better than to screw with me over something this important. I’ll make sure not to do anything to get my face marked up before Thursday too.” I chuckle.

  “I wasn’t sure about this ‘training’ they were putting you through when you first showed up with that knot on your head,” Sasha says as she wraps her arms around me. “But whatever they’re feeding you or making you do is paying off. You were always hard and hot Mr. Fury, but you’ve turned it up a notch.”

  “Yeah, I’ve gained like ten pounds of muscle or something in the last five weeks. That guy Reese I told you about has been making me drink some crap he mixes up in the blender.”

  “He’s not giving you steroids, is he? I would hate to think he’s giving you something that’s going to shrink your balls or have some other weird side effect.”

  “My balls are just fine, thank you very much!” I laugh at her. “I’ll even let you check them sometime, if you’re so concerned. Don’t worry, he drinks the stuff too, he’s not doing anything harmful to me. It’s just protein powder, I think.”

  “Well, whatever it is, I like the results,” she says, as she lifts up the bottom of the black hoodie I’m wearing under my cut, sliding a hand over my abs. With a grin, she leans up and whispers in my ear, “I want to see just how far these ridges run.”