by Nicole Fox
“Myrtle Creek used to be a safe place,” her friend confirmed, her white head bobbing. “Everyone’s so liberal these days, and we get rabble like this.”
One of riders paused a little longer than the others, and his face turned to the window. We locked eyes, and a thrill shot up from my feet to my throat. He was tall and handsome, his muscles sleek and lengthy as he held the handlebars of his ride. Just like any other biker, I knew he had to be a bad boy. He probably drank and smoked. It was likely that he was rude and mean, maybe even cruel.
But he was free. While I was stuck in here like a fish in a tank, he was riding towards whatever he chose. Maybe he was even riding away from something, but at least he was able to choose. He cranked the throttle and was gone, leaving a faint cloud of exhaust and the fading noise of the motorcycles. My heart sank slowly back down into my stomach, cold and heavy like a stone.
“Well, then,” the mayor said, eager to bring everyone back to the matter at hand. “Let’s get back to business. I would also like to thank Miss Bambi Bidwell, our Peach Festival Queen. She’s the definition of Myrtle Creek spirit and soul, and we couldn’t be happier to have her with us this year. Let’s all give her a round of applause, ladies and gentlemen.”
The roar of clapping around me did nothing for me like the sound of those motorcycles did. My cheeks burned, but not because I was embarrassed at the attention. All eyes were on me, especially those of my mother, but I could think of nothing but that sexy man outside.
Chapter 3 Snake
“Come on, Snake. Why are we here? I know we said we needed something to do in this town, but going to a parade isn’t really my kind of thing.” Rubble kicked the gravel in the parking lot and squinted against the bright sun.
We had taken a position near the front of the parade, where we would be sure not to miss anything. I had ripped down the poster in the bar as I left, and it was now folded up in my back pocket. I didn’t need to look at it to know the face of the girl I was looking for. She was so different from anyone else, and certainly different from the women I was usually with. I was grateful for Rusty’s bet, since it had given me a reason to go after her. Otherwise, the rest of the guys would have given me shit ten times over for pursuing a beauty queen.
“Just be patient,” I said. “Or go get some food. That always seems to make you happy.”
“I’ve already tried all the peach cobbler, peach milkshakes, and peach turnovers I can handle,” he groused. “And that shit is expensive. I could ride all the way to my grandma’s house and spend less money in gas just to get some dessert.”
I was after a little dessert myself, but not the same kind. “Look, I told you why I was here. This is where the girl on the poster is going to be. I know it’s not a big town, but I’m guaranteed to find her here. If you have better things to do, like trying to win the bet yourself, then I suggest you go do them.”
Rubble rubbed his hand up and down his arm, feeling the fine scabs from his most recent tattoo. “Naw, I’ve lost already. I tried talking to that waitress again last night before we left the bar. Her manager came over and told me to leave her alone or else he’d call the cops.”
I grinned. “I’m not sure that’s ever stopped you before.” Like most of the Warriors, Rubble had been in and out of jail numerous time in his adult life, and probably several times even before that.
He shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t care except that Bruiser said not to start any trouble. He pulled me aside last night and told me specifically. I don’t see why. I mean, that warehouse fire back in Houston was not my fault.”
Silently, I wished I had picked someone else to come with me. Axle would have been happy to scout for hot chicks at the parade, but he had some things to fix on his bike. Rusty was sleeping in at the old motel we were crashing at, and Moose said he had made some progress with the woman from the bar. They were supposed to get together again that afternoon, so my little plan of tracking down the Peach Festival Queen wasn’t very interesting to him.
The crowd in Myrtle Creek was surprisingly big. People lined the main road, grabbing spots anywhere on the sidewalk and even out into the street. Firetrucks and police cars headed up the procession, their lights going and their sirens blaring. Next came several cars full of older folks, probably the town council. Then came a float holding the class of 1960, and their queen right behind them. She still wore her crown, but she was dressed in a conservative suit and had a puff of gray hair. She was definitely not the same person who had earned her place as Peach Festival Queen.
I shifted from foot to foot, wondering just how much more heat I could take in my leathers. Finally, several convertibles came down the street, each with a beautiful woman in the back. The first was a tall blonde who waved to the audience as though she was the queen, even though the sign on her car clearly stated she was a runner-up. Another girl, dark and beautiful, stared at the gathered crowd as though it was their fault she was forced to be in the parade. She kept her lips in a firm line. A short girl with flaming red hair came next, and finally behind her was a bright red Camaro.
I knew the woman in the back instantly. She sat tall and straight, her sparkling silver dress glittering in the sunlight. Her teeth were brilliantly white against her red lips, and her blonde hair blew gently in the breeze. She was everything that had been advertised on the poster, and even more so now that I knew she was real. Her eyes scanned the crowd and locked on mine. I had her.
Suddenly, I realized this wasn’t the first time I’d seen her. She was the same girl that had been staring out the window of the community center as the guys and I rode by the previous afternoon. I had seen the longing in her eyes, like a lioness in a cage at the zoo. It had been tempting to pull over, burst through the glass doors, and drag her off, but there had been far too many people in attendance. I had to bide my time.
An older woman sat in the passenger seat of the car, which seemed odd since none of the other candidates had anyone but a driver. I looked on the sign hanging off the side of the car to see if she was anyone important, but there was no indication. Shrugging, I watched her face as she passed by, and I saw something I didn’t like.
“Come on.” I grabbed Rubble by the sleeve and dragged him away from the crowed.
“What? I thought this was what you wanted to do.” He pointed over his shoulder where the parade was still going by. “There are still tons of cars and floats coming.”
I ignored him and stormed off to my motorcycle.
Chapter 4 Bambi
The sun blazed down, and I wondered how long my makeup would last. It was the expensive stuff, which my mother always somehow managed to find a way to brag about. Still, I could feel the sweat creeping down from my hairline as I stepped up on the back seat of the convertible to sit on the back.
“Make sure you smile,” Mother reminded me for the fiftieth time. “Everyone is here to see you, so don’t let them down. Make Myrtle Creek proud, now.”
I nodded as she rearranged my hair around my shoulders and adjusted the straps of my dress. “Yes, Mother.”
She leaned down to talk to the driver. “You don’t mind if I ride along, do you? My daughter might need me.”
The man who had been sent from the dealership—I couldn’t remember his name, only that he was the head salesman and claimed he was honored to be my chauffeur—was already seated behind the wheel. He blinked at her for a moment before he responded. “Well, I suppose not. I mean, I know that’s not what’s usually done, but I don’t see why not …”
“Wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and went around the front of the car to hop in the passenger seat. “Won’t that be lovely, dear? We can be right here together!”
I didn’t bother reminding her that if she rode with me, we would have to find a ride back to the other side of town to get back to her car. The man from the dealership would likely oblige, but it was rude to assume he would. Besides, I knew exactly why she wanted to be in the car, and it wasn’t for my sake.
Monique Bidwell had never been a beautiful woman, and she’d never had the chance to even compete for queen. I’d seen the pictures of her from back in high school and college. I could see how hard she’d tried, dressing in the trendiest clothes, constantly styling her hair, and wearing tons of makeup no matter what the occasion. But it just wasn’t in the cards for her. Now, as my mother, she thought she could live all her dreams through me. That was part of why it was so hard for me to say anything to her. I felt sorry for her, even though it was making my life miserable.
The parade began, and there was no more time to worry about it. I had a job to do. The crowd was packed beginning at the first block, and as I looked down the street I saw nothing but a path lined with people. They were packed at least five or six deep, waving and cheering. I knew, no matter what Mother tried to say, that they weren’t all there for me. They were there for the candy thrown from the floats, their friends and family who were participating, and the simple fact that the Peach Festival was the biggest event in town.
Still, I couldn’t help that I was letting them down even as small girls and old men waved and smiled at me. I should be thrilled that I was being celebrated, that I was so loved by the population. I should have felt pride lifting me up as we crept down the street, but I only felt shame. I had entered the contest because my mother had made me. I had worn the right dress and had the right hairstyle and said the right answers to the questions because my mother had coached me. She had poked and prodded and pushed until I was perfect. But I knew that wasn’t really me. I didn’t want to spend my weekends driving to fancy stores in the city or rehearsing my walk across the stage. I just wanted to curl up in a corner somewhere with a book or go out with my friends. I wanted to find a nice guy and go on a date. But I was stuck here in the back of a car, with a fake smile on my face.
I looked at the audience, barely paying any attention to them, when I saw a familiar visage grinning at me. In his leathers and denim, it was obvious he didn’t belong in Myrtle Creek. Tall and slim but well-muscled, he gave me a crooked smile that made my heart jump right out of the car and fall onto the road. My hand, which had been waving constantly since the parade had started, slowly fell to my side as I stared at him. Tattoos snaked down his arms to his knuckles, and his dark hair was slicked back. He wasn’t just watching the parade in general, he was watching me.
The biker raised his hand and wiped his face, gesturing at me to do the same. I lifted my perfectly-manicured hand to my cheeks, feeling the tears that had been slipping down. Brushing them away carefully, I looked down at my mother to make sure she wasn’t watching. She was too busy soaking up all the attention she imagined she was getting. When I looked back up, the biker was gone.
Slackening my posture a little, I wondered what was wrong with me that I was looking for hope in the form of some strange bad boy whom I’d never seen before. But it confirmed what I had been denying for a long time: I didn’t like this life anymore. Maybe I never had. Mother had been pushing her agenda on me practically since I was born, and I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t leave right then. But as soon as the parade was over, I was going to take back my life.
I smiled and waved at the crowd once again as I envisioned the conversation that would ensue. I would explain that it was time for me to live my life for myself. I was nineteen now, and she had no control over me. Mother would brush me off at first, thinking that I was joking, but I would let her know I was serious. I would prove I meant it by going out and getting a job, even if it was just some part-time gig at a gas station, and I would save up until I could move out on my own. There were so many things I wanted to do with my life, and being fawned over by the people of my little town just wasn’t one of them.
We had finally reached the end of the parade in front of the courthouse, where the mayor presided over the entire affair. The convertible pulled over, and my driver helped me down to the sidewalk.
“Come on, dear. We have to shake hands with the mayor,” Mother whispered, still not aware that this wasn’t about her. “Make sure you look to your right and smile. All the news cameras are over there, and everyone will see you.”
The other pageant contestants had already had their photo op with Mayor Ward. Instead of getting back in their cars and dispersing, they stood to the side of his booth with brilliant smiles, hoping someone would notice them. But the cameras were on me. I didn’t want the attention, but I would take it for the moment if it meant I could keep it from them. Normally, I wasn’t a vindictive sort of girl. But it wasn’t right that they should treat me the way they did, especially when I hadn’t done anything wrong.
I approached the mayor’s booth with my head held high and my back straight. I was going to do this, and it would be the very last thing I did as queen. I wouldn’t be going around to the local elementary schools and telling all the little innocent girls how wonderful it was to be pretend royalty. I wouldn’t be helping out with any ribbon cuttings or participating in other city events. I would be gone, and they could take my crown if they wanted it.
A roar off to my left nearly made me trip over the hem of my gown. I clutched at my mother’s arm in order not to fall as I turned. The biker gang that had been plaguing the town came riding right through the parade! They had no regard for the law, and they rode straight up onto the sidewalk and into the grass. The other pageant girls screamed and jumped backward.
A shiny blue bike swerved to a stop right in front of me, cutting me off from Mayor Ward. I took a step backwards, but Mother was heading straight for the courthouse steps. She tried to drag me with her, but my feet were planted on the concrete.
The biker, the same guy that I’d seen through the window and from the car, looked over his shoulder at me with that same grin as he scooted forward on the seat. He was daring me, enticing me. There was room for me on that motorcycle, and I knew it. One dark eyebrow rose up on his forehead, asking the question for a second time.
I licked my lips, but my tongue was dry. There was a massive crowd there on the lawn in front of the courthouse, but it might as well have only been the two of us. I couldn’t take my eyes away from those dark brown orbs as they challenged me to do what I had always wanted.
“Bambi! Come over here! That man is dangerous!” My mother’s voice shrilled somewhere off to my left, but I could barely hear her.
It was now or never. I could leap, or I could stay rooted in the same place I had always been. My feet acted without my approval, slowly taking one step and then another until I was almost running. It was hard in those damn high heels and that awful dress, but I made it work. The slits in the skirt ripped up to my hips as I hopped on the back of the motorcycle, feeling the vibration beneath me as soon as I was seated.
The biker didn’t wait for me to get comfortable. He swerved out of the grass and back onto the road with a thump. I instantly wrapped my arms around his waist to keep from falling off. Even in that split second, I didn’t miss the hardness of his abs and the warmth of his backside as it pressed against me. My mother’s screams were drowned in the din of the crowd as he gunned the throttle. We shot down the road, weaving in and out of the parade traffic until we were clear of the downtown area. The rest of his gang was behind us, their engines rumbling.
“What’s your name?” I shouted as the wind picked up and we shot through the very last stoplight.
He turned his face just enough that his voice floated back to me. “Snake.”
Snake. Just his name was the complete opposite of everything my life had been. This stranger was exactly what I needed. We passed the speed limit sign and he revved the engine as I reached up and grabbed my tiara. It was tangled in my hair from the ride, but I didn’t care. I tossed it behind me as we flew past the city limits.
Chapter 5 Snake
I smiled to myself as we headed into the next town. It was an impulsive thing to do, and if I’d had time to think about it, I wouldn’t have imagined that it would work. I was just some grubby bike
r, and she was a beauty queen. But as soon as I came to a stop in front of her and looked over my shoulder, I knew she was coming. I saw that look of desperation in her eyes, that need to do something different, something bad.
As soon as I had her sweet little body behind mine on the bike, I felt a heat spread over my skin. Her ample breasts pressed against my back and she wrapped her arms around me, and it felt like it would take forever to get into the next town. It wasn’t fair to have to drive and not be able to see her or touch her the way I wanted to.
Myrtle Creek had been an all right place, and Johnson City wasn’t much different. It was just another small southern town with a few fast food joints and a motel. I led the other members into the parking lot and pulled to a stop in front of the office. I reached back and put my hand on her thigh as I got off. It was warm and solid, but the muscles flinched under my touch. “You stay here. I’ll be right back.”
She nodded meekly.
The guys didn’t argue when I shoved my way to the desk first. After all, I had business to take care of. I arranged for a room without even hearing the jeers of the other men. When I returned to my bike, Bambi was exactly where I had left her. She sat stiffly on the back of the seat, her arms folded awkwardly in front of her chest. The ride had tattered the hem of her dress, the dirty gray of the road corrupting the stunning silver of the material.