by Xander Hades
Especially when it wasn’t his money to give.
She remembered how he’d bought that bike and then gifted it right back to her when he’d found out how much the bike had meant to her. It had been a wild, crazy gesture. One he definitely couldn't afford. Not that he’d made a habit of spending freely either. The Crocker had been an impetuous decision. When they’d been together he reverted to a more conscientious spending habit. That was fine with her, though. No one falls for a biker because he’s rich. Hoodoo, being the man he was, had been determined to pay back his friend and Tracy had offered to refund a great deal of the money. Most of it had gone to hospitals and doctors for her father, but together, they’d made a dent in the debt even if his friend had written off the amount and told them not to worry about it.
Must be nice to be able to afford to walk away from that much money.
But Hoodoo had the “bite of the proud in him” as his grandmother said. He’d never accepted that gesture. He would probably send his friend five cents a month if that was all he had.
Still, they’d had a fine time together, hadn’t they? Tracy paused outside her RV, one hand on the door to go in, the other shielding the sun from her eyes as she paused to look at the sky. The sun was brutal today, but not like it’d been in Arizona. She’d come to Phoenix, and spent two months with him there, in a place where sunlight itself seemed to carry weight. She hadn’t hated it exactly, though she’d never quite gotten used to the climate. Across from her, the next RV over, a couple kissed passionately, hands buried in hair, bodies entwined as the man’s hand came out and fumbled for the door of his own RV, keys falling into the grass only to be lost unnoticed as things escalated to the point where Tracy felt uncomfortable and threw herself into her own tiny space before someone could accuse her of voyeurism.
Inside and leaning against the door, Tracy found herself laughing through tears and wondered whether that couple were a Sturgis hook-up or something more. She wondered how anyone could last in such a lifestyle as this. Bikers were a crazy bunch. She’d seen so many couples who seemed to join together only to break off with the rise and fall of financial fortunes. Others enamored by the freeform lifestyle. For some, it was roving passion.
But for Tracy, hooking up with Hoodoo was about the smile. His zest for life. The way he’d looked at her. And if she were truly honest with herself, she admitted only in the quietest part of her soul that maybe she was a little bit shallow, that it had been the body that looked like it was hand carved from bronze, the sheer size of the man and… well… the sheer size of the man that had seized upon her feminine sense. Let’s face it, the man was every girl’s fantasy.
And for those two months, she’d lived that dream, although how anyone could survive in that heat still amazed her. And that was only April and May in Arizona. She’d fled before summer could truly peel the skin from her bones. Although truth be told, she would have stayed, even through that if things had been different. But being with Hoodoo was like being on a carnival ride. It was fun, thrilling and made your head spin. The problem was, sooner or later, you had to get off the ride and life had to return to normal.
She’d burned through the vacation time she’d saved over the years and had to return to work before they forgot she worked there. Then, too, her father, newly recovered, had gotten help from friends and family, but he wasn’t able to be on his own, not yet. He needed her, and she needed the…stability…of the life she’d always known.
So she had to go back home. But Hoodoo hadn’t been prepared to go with her. Hoodoo was an ace mechanic. He knew everything about motorcycles, could identify every nut and bolt. He was also the leader of… Tracy sighed. Even now, she didn’t want to admit that she’d fallen helplessly in love with the leader of a motorcycle gang.
It sounded so cliché, so… fifties. “Leader of the Pack” kept replaying in her mind every time Hoodoo’s name was mentioned. He didn’t have any other ties as far as she could tell. Phoenix was, by his own admission, where he landed because he could ride all year.
Tracy had made one big, fatal error. She’d asked him to come back to Chicago with her. And then expected that he would. After all, he could get work there. People needed their bikes and cars and whatever fixed in Chicago, too. There were a few months where there was too much snow to ride a bike, but normally…
But it was like trying to convince a cactus to move. Hoodoo had a name from New Orleans, had an accent from New Orleans, but his roots were firmly anchored in Phoenix and he refused to budge. He refused to think about budging. He claimed he had family there.
“That’s not family!” Tracy had said. Yelled, because she was hurt and it felt good to lash out. “It’s a gang!”
“It’s family.” Hoodoo said quietly. “Brothers and sisters. You don’t know how it is…”
But that’s where he was wrong. She did know. She knew all too well. Which came full circle again to Joey. Cousin Joey. There were those who called him “Parrot,” but in her own mind, Tracy called him “jail bird Joey.” If anyone wanted to know what it was like to be in a gang, Joey was the shining example.
Possession, distribution, violence. He’d been arrested a dozen times and never served any real time. Joey was a charmer, a fast talker and a scoundrel. He made a lifetime of empty promises and the latest, greatest promise he’d made was that this year at Sturgis, it was all over. This year, he found a job, he was selling his bike and going on the straight and narrow.
But he wanted one last fling. One last chance to be the reprobate drunken biker he’s always been and from there…
Tracy had called him a liar to his face. Joey swore on everything he held sacred.
Like pot and cocaine? What do you hold sacred Joey?
Her father had whispered in her ear. “If there is even a chance that a man’s life can turn around, isn’t it worth a risk?”
The risk was the bike. That damn bike. She possessed it at Hoodoo’s expense, couldn’t ride it without worrying that it might get damaged or hurt. The insurance on it was crippling. Joey… wanted to show it off. He wanted to ride it through Sturgis, to be seen.
“Small price to pay for a man’s soul, wouldn’t you say?” her father chided when she’d protested.
“Seriously?” She looked at him incredulously. “You don’t really believe that, do you? You know that he’s up to something…”
“Honey.” Her father chastised her. His face, never the same vibrant healthy look he’d had before he’d gotten sick, seemed paler, as though the effort of arguing was too great a strain. “Let him have a moment in the sun. Give him the chance.”
And so Tracy stood in the middle of an RV she couldn’t really afford to rent, taking time off she couldn’t afford, to baby-sit a bike she couldn’t afford.
And Hoodoo thought to warn her that Joey was unreliable? Now he chose to be jealous? He didn’t know who Joey was, he only saw her with another man… no, worse, his gang saw her with someone else and now they were spying on her.
She took a deep breath and counted to ten. Then twenty. By the time she hit three hundred, she was feeling… not better. Calmer. Too tired to be angry.
She was also hungry. She stared at the loaf of bread slowly going stale on the counter next to the jar of peanut butter she’d been subsisting on far too long. Maybe it was time she quit hiding, and ventured outside. It felt…scary. This world was proving to be too big for her. Maybe Joey had had a point when he’d said she’d become too homebound. Not that he’d used that term; he’d been a whole lot less flattering when he’d practically dared her to come.
That had been the final straw. Being thought to be a coward.
That in mind, she walked out of the trailer and strolled along the dirt to the road, looking for something fast and easy. It was only food after all. Maybe it was time to get lost in the crowd. Live a little. Take some chances.
Then she saw Hoodoo’s bike. And Hoodoo. And the inevitable gang with him.
You wanted to take chances.<
br />
Her hand went to her hair, wondering if she looked OK. Suddenly becoming a girl in her indecision. It was enough to make her laugh. But…
I would like to try again.
Tracy walked through the phalanx of the Gilas and slipped up to the man she’d fallen for once upon a time. The man she’d never really gotten over though she’d been the one to end it.
“Hello, Hoodoo,” she said.
Her voice only shook a little.
Chapter Nine
Despite the nervous glances from the rest of the gang, Hoodoo fairly beamed when he saw her. She wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about that. Right now it was somewhat intimidating. The man could have all the exuberance of a Great Dane puppy.
“Listen.” Tracy took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to ignore the interested looks from the rest. “I was… rude. And I am sorry, I really am. I never should have slapped you. I’m just getting to where I don’t even want to hear about…” He went into debt with the mafia for you, don’t sound ungrateful. “…anything anymore, I just closed off. I reacted badly and I do appreciate your attempt to warn me. I actually do.” She looked around at the others, “I suppose that goes for all of you. I do feel very grateful that you’re looking out for…” the damn bike “… me, thank you.”
Each of them nodded, but their expressions were wary. She’d put a gap between her and them and they were taking their clues from the leader of the … damn, there goes that song again.
“Tracy,” Hoodoo stood and lay a hand on her shoulder. It was easy to forget how big the man was, as though her mind just could not wrap around the size of him without actually seeing him. Right now she felt like she was wearing him. Seriously. Her entire shoulder was covered. Completely. “I didn’t mean to creep you out, it was just a coincidence, no one was spying, I swear.”
Tracy nodded, not sure she believed that entirely. “Yeah, I realized that, eventually. Once I was able to let go of the anger, I figured it out.” She paused and the group seemed to be searching as one for something to say to break the uncomfortable silence.
“Well,” Tracy said, forcing a half smile to her face. She decided that it would be best to go back to the RV and feast on PB&J if she could find the jar of jam. Or maybe instant noodles, which might be easier. Suddenly she’d lost her taste for hot dogs, especially if eating them meant staying around where she was clearly not wanted. At least it wouldn’t be as awkward.
“Hey, Hoodoo man.” The girl piped up, Sal or Val or something. “Why don’ you take the lady for a drink? Huh? We got this.”
Tracy forced her expression to remain neutral but she could have kissed the girl. It was an interesting image. She almost laughed thinking about the reaction the boys would have to that. She looked up, noticing Hoodoo’s cautious look. So she wasn’t the only one who was wary. “I would like that,” he said carefully, waiting for her reaction.
Go for it. What do you have to lose?
She honestly didn’t want to answer that question right now. She’d lost a lot of things when they’d broken up. Her heart. Her peace of mind. Her self-respect.
“Me too.” Tracy said, her own answer coming after too long of a delay. “If that’s an invitation.”
“Probably the best one you’re gonna get,” one of the two who looked so much alike said.
“Boss isn’t big on flowery speeches,” said the other.
She shot them a glance. Sarcastic? Or sincere?
Quit analyzing. Just…take the plunge!
“Well, in that case…” Tracy took another deep breath and this time when she let the air out, she nodded. Focused. Determined. How bad could it get? “How could a girl resist?” she asked, with a smile so forced her face hurt. Yeah, she could do this. She looked at his bike shining in the afternoon sun like a suddenly remembered dream and asked shyly, “Back seat still open? I don’t have my ride with me.”
Hoodoo smiled. “It’s still yours. That don’ change.”
Tracy smiled at the girl in the vest of the Gilas and looked away before a glimmer of a tear betrayed her. It mattered who sat there. To him. It mattered that she sat there. With a combination of pride and an odd touch of shyness, she swung her leg over the bike and waited while he did the same. For him, it was more like stepping over a low barrier, but he fired the bike up and sat. The whole bike settled a little lower with his weight. He truly was a giant of a man. Tracy settled herself behind him, taking comfort and pride in the position. It wasn’t that she couldn’t ride; if she couldn’t maybe none of this would have happened, certainly she and Hoodoo wouldn’t have been together. But this place was hers even though she’d rejected it. Even though they’d broken up, it was still her place.
Hoodoo dropped the shifter into gear and they slipped through the dirt where the stand was located and dropped smoothly into the steady stream of bikes running in and out and through town. Hoodoo waggled the bike, moving his hips from side-to-side and letting the bike weave in a tight pattern as they drove. She’d asked him once why he did that, with a mischievous grin he admitted that it was just fun. In some ways, he’d been able to hang on to the boy that still loved a little trick and playing in the open sunshine. It was part of what she’d loved about him.
They parked a fair distance from the bar she’d seen him at the previous night. It was still fairly early, but during the rally, beer was a breakfast food and breakfast was served all day. Hoodoo killed the engine and for a moment, Tracy rebelled against getting up again. He sat between her thighs, his waist in her hands. Riding alone wasn’t nearly so pleasant. Some, like that girl who’d helped her out, would prefer to have their own ride. Others might even look down on a girl who liked to be behind anyone. But to Tracy it was intimate and public all at once. Her legs ached to have him between them again.
Hoodoo locked the ignition and they walked down to the bar. Tracy felt a sting of envy for the ease in which he did that. He had a beautiful bike; it had a lot of work in it. The bike had a certain style all its own, and his artwork was gorgeous. But when he got somewhere it wasn’t a classic, one-of-a-kind jewel that had be protected and wrapped in bubble wrap to keep everything safe and sanitary.
She envied that. She never realized just how much until she’d lost that ability.
They were almost at the bar when she felt his hand brush hers. In his case, his hand was twice her size, and it always made her feel like a little girl when she held his hand while walking. Not that it was a bad feeling. She rather liked the way she’d always felt protected and safe when she was with him. Not that she couldn’t hold her own when she had to – but she was able to relax more with him. There was no need to be super woman 24/7 when he was around and it was a nice break. She supposed in an ideal world, she wouldn’t have needed to ever feel like she had to be on her guard at all, but she’d grown up in Chicago and was a realist.
Besides, if there were no more dragons, then there would be no more need for dragon slayers. So living in a world that was a little bit dangerous felt…more fun. And having a giant on your side, gave you a lot of freedom to take on dragons for yourself.
So she took his hand almost out of reflex, and smiled. It was wrong, it was stupid and it wouldn’t/couldn’t end well. But it felt right. Being tucked in at his side like that, her hand in his was Christmas and coming home.
I just want to enjoy this. Tonight I’m going to have this much.
Hoodoo entered first, his bulk pressing a hole in the crowd for her to follow in his wake. He didn’t let go of her hand. Neither did she.
It was the little things that meant so much. There were men and women making out on barstools, in the street, on bikes, on every surface, but somehow holding hands while walking was a quieter, softer version of lovemaking, the gentle intertwining of fingers a silent intimacy that went almost entirely unnoticed. Especially in a crowd like this.
There weren’t any chairs left in the place, so they ordered a couple of beers and left to drink them on the front porch, sittin
g on the railing by the street.
“Huh,” she said after a minute, nudging him and pointing, “Wonder what happened there?”
“Where?”
“That upright… post thing that looks like it’s broken in two. Was there a fight?”
Hoodoo seemed to choke on his beer. “Ah… might have been? Maybe?” He took another cautious sip. “Kind of reminds me I need to talk to someone later.”
His expression was carefully neutral. Too carefully neutral. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.
“I miss you,” he said into the pause as more bikes rolled past. She wondered if she knew any of the riders. If her being out here with the most visible guy of the rally would somehow get back to her father. And what he would think. The object of going to Sturgis was to be seen at Sturgis, but just now, Tracy wished she was less visible. This time it was her turn to get stuck mid-swallow. She slowly lay her hand on his thigh. It was like resting on a fallen tree.