by Chiah Wilder
“Yeah.”
“I’ve seen it parked behind the warehouse. It’s an awesome bike. I bet it’s got a lot of power.” She licked her lips. Diablo laughed.
She’s flirting with him. And she’s doing it so easily. I wish I could do that. I should say something clever or funny. But she just sat tongue-tied beside him while Sylvia continued flirting with him. Then he touched her and her insides fell like she was free-falling. His hand was on her shoulder, scorching her.
“Do you wanna go for a quick spin on my Harley?” Once again his warm breath fell on her shoulder; it smelled of cinnamon.
“I’ve never been on a motorcycle. Maybe another time.”
“Why not go for just a quick ride? I’d love to do it, but I think Diablo wants you behind him, don’t you, sweetie?” She winked at him as he nodded. “Go on. Try something new. He knows what he’s doing. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
I really want to go. He’s so nice. “I don’t think I could get on very well.”
“I’ll help you on,” Diablo said. “I know you’ll love it. The first ride is the one that’ll hook you.”
She laughed. “I don’t know about that. Okay… I’ll do it.” A rush of adrenaline surged through her.
“Fuckin’ fantastic.” His arm around her, he squeezed her close to him. “You’re gonna love it,” he whispered in her ear, his lips brushing her earlobe.
Tingling, she nodded in agreement.
“Here’s your check. Pay at the cashier.” The waitress placed their bill down on the table.
Before either woman could pick it up, Diablo grabbed it.
“What’re you doing?” Fallon asked as she opened her purse.
“It’s my treat, ladies.” Diablo slid out of the booth.
“You don’t have to pay for us,” Fallon protested.
“Thank you very much,” Sylvia said, and threw a keep-your-mouth-shut look.
As they walked over to the cashier, several diners looked at Fallon’s pronounced limp. She turned to Diablo and asked, “Are you sure you still want to take me for a ride?”
A puzzled look crossed his face. “Yeah. Why the fuck wouldn’t I?”
A smile spread over hers. “I don’t know. Just checking.”
He moved her hair out of her eyes. “For the record, if I ask you to do something, I don’t change my mind.” She pressed her lips together and nodded.
After Diablo paid the bill, he escorted the ladies out back where Fallon saw a huge metallic blue motorcycle gleaming in the sun. “That’s yours? It’s so big.”
“Everything about me is big.” He threw his head back when Fallon’s cheeks reddened. “Come on over here and let me help you on.” She went over and in one fluid movement he lifted her up. She cried out. “You’re as light as bird. Did I hurt you?”
“No. I just didn’t expect that,” she replied as she settled on the black leather seat. He laughed and swung his leg over the seat. Instinctively, she curled her arms around his waist, surprised at how firm he was.
Looking behind her, he said, “Hold on, baby.” He winked and started the engine.
The bike rumbled beneath her and she could feel the power of its engine. Holding him tighter, she said to Sylvia, “I’ll meet you in front of the diner soon.” Sylvia waved and the bike roared down the alley.
At first she was a nervous wreck, thinking for sure she was going to fall off the bike, but as she gave in to its rhythms, she began to enjoy the ride. The wind blew through her hair and felt like it was carrying her on its currents. Without thinking, she rested her head against his broad back, loving the smell of leather and oil that permeated his vest. As houses rushed by, a sense of freedom took hold of her, and a smattering of disappointment sprinkled inside her when the diner came in sight. She’d wanted to keep riding, pressed against him, the wind carrying her away from the life she was living.
Sylvia, beaming, waved at her as they pulled up to the curb. “How was it?”
Diablo helped Fallon off the bike. “It was so cool. I liked it a lot,” she said.
“I can take you for a longer ride if you’d like. What’re you doing this Sunday?” Diablo asked.
“Sundays I work at the warehouse doing a bunch of chores.”
“But Jose can help you out so you get done faster. I can even pitch in so you’ll have the afternoon free.” Sylvia beamed.
Heat crept up her neck, spreading over her face and leaving red tracks in its wake. She looked down at the ground.
“Sounds like you’ll be free.” Diablo bent down low. “Do you want to get together this Sunday?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I can swing by the warehouse. There’re a lot of back roads that are great to ride on. I’ll be by at one o’clock. Will that work?” She nodded. “Give me your phone.” She handed it to him and he started tapping. “I put in my number. Call or text me anytime.”
“Okay.” She glanced at Sylvia. “We better head back. Thanks again for the ride.”
As they drove away from the diner, Fallon craned her neck to look in the passenger mirror at him. He stood there until they turned off Main Street. She leaned back and folded her hands on her stomach. Her body was shimmering like a sparkler on the Fourth of July. This is by far the best day I’ve ever had.
“He likes you,” Sylvia said.
“I think he’s just being nice because he works for my dad.” But I hope I’m wrong. I want him to like me. I’ve never met someone like him.
“No… that’s not it. He’s definitely into you. I could see it in his face. If any of the other girls find out, they’ll scratch your eyes out. Especially Emerald and Heidi. They’ve got the hots for him but he acts like he doesn’t know they exist. Don’t tell anyone about our day, okay? Even your dad. I mean, you can tell them we went shopping and had lunch, but don’t tell them about Diablo.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’ll spoil it.”
And she knew Sylvia was right. It seemed that whenever there was a glimmer of something special and good in her life, her dad always pissed on it. And now that Shanna was around, she made sure Fallon’s life was miserable. “I won’t breathe a word.”
Sylvia nodded and turned on the radio.
As the car rambled down the old highway, Fallon closed her eyes and relived the whole encounter with Diablo over and over in her mind. This is my memory. No one will ever be able to take it away from me.
A couple of miles from her house, her stomach started knotting up. She dreaded a confrontation with Shanna, and she didn’t want to hear her father’s words condemning her for her earlier behavior toward her step-bitch. She waved goodbye to Sylvia and slowly walked to her house. When she keyed in the code on the keypad outside the garage door, she breathed a sigh of relief as she walked into the empty garage. Her father and the bitch weren’t home.
She went up to her room and locked the door, then searched her phone for Diablo’s phone number. Looking at it made her smile. This was the first time she’d ever had a boy’s phone number. She held the phone against her chest and closed her eyes, the cool breeze reminding her how wonderful the ride had been. And holding him had been the best part of it.
I’ll never forget today. And no matter how awful Shanna or my dad are, I’ll always have today.
As she clutched her phone, sleep descended upon her.
Chapter Eight
Diablo wiped his greasy hands on a towel, a surge of satisfaction pumping through him as he surveyed the Harley Super Glide. When the owner brought it in, it’d been on its last mile, but now it was humming and shining. Diablo worked at the club’s auto and bike repair shop, Skid Marks, four days a week. He’d learned the ins and outs of bike repair when he’d joined up with the Night Rebels. Shotgun had liked the way he knew his way inside a car’s engine, so he’d taken him under his wing and showed him the ropes. Shotgun ran the shop; he’d been with the Night Rebels since Steel had started over a decade ago. In their mid-thirties, Shotgun, Rooster, and Ta
ttoo Mike were the older members of the club.
Diablo went into the salesroom, walked over to the small refrigerator behind the counter, and took out a large bottle of water. After guzzling more than half of it, he placed it on the back table.
“Is the Super Glide ready to go?” Shotgun asked as he thumbed through the rolodex.
“Resurrected from the dead. I’m gonna wash up.” Diablo went to the laundry sink in the utility room and scrubbed the grease and grime from his hands. As he rinsed them under the stream of warm water, his thoughts drifted to Fallon. She felt mighty fine pressed behind him when he took her for a spin the previous day. He couldn’t wait to see her on Sunday and take her for a proper ride. He pushed the paper dispenser with his elbow and tore off a long sheet, then dried his hands vigorously.
When she’d agreed to go with him on his Harley, he’d been surprised. She must be kinda interested in me. He wasn’t too sure about it because she was hard to read. Most women were obvious in letting him know they desired him, but Fallon spent most of their short time together averting his gaze.
“You’ve got a call. It’s the dude who brought in his Sportster this morning,” Chains said at the doorway.
“Coming.” Diablo threw the wadded-up paper in the trash and went out front.
When he was finished with his conversation, he sat on the stool by the cash register. “Where’s Shotgun?”
“He went out to grab lunch. We’ve gotta hold down the fort until he gets back. It’ll be a nice break.” Diablo nodded. “Who was that woman you were talking to at Leroy’s yesterday afternoon?”
“Someone I know.” Diablo took the credit card a customer handed him.
“How do you know her?”
Diablo finished the transaction and stared at Chains. “How the fuck is that your business?”
“I was just asking. We were just wondering, that’s all. You rarely talk to any chick except for Lucy and Maria. Fuck, man.”
Diablo pushed up from the stool. “I better get working on that Sportster.” He grabbed his half-finished water bottle and headed to the bay. He figured the brothers were buzzing about Fallon. At times they really got on his nerves when they started the petty gossip shit; they were worse than a bunch of women at a social.
They don’t need to know shit about her. He took out a wrench and unscrewed a bolt. I don’t even know what I’m doing. I just know I like her. And he wasn’t going to tell his brothers that. They would never get that a man could spend time with a woman without thinking about fucking her the whole time.
Fallon’s small body blazed through his mind. She does have some nice tits on her, and probably a lot of sexy curves hidden under her baggy clothes. He wondered why she hid her body the way she did. She wore clothes that were shapeless and looked too big for her slight frame. He guessed her to be about five foot four, and he’d been surprised how light she was when he picked her up to put her on the seat of his Harley. The skin he’d touched was soft like down feathers, and the scent she was wearing made his cock move against his zipper. But what woke it totally up was her arms tight around his waist and her head against his shoulder. It was the fuel he’d used when he’d jerked off that night while in the shower. Maria would’ve been so disappointed to know that he’d used his hands instead of her to come.
Breathing out, he took the tire off the bike. A ping drew his attention to the phone on his work table. Placing the wrench on the floor, he went over and looked at it. An unknown number flashed on his screen. He opened the text, suspicion creasing his brow.
Unknown: Hi. Thanks again for the ride.
A big smile cracked his face. Fallon.
Diablo: I’m glad u enjoyed it. Sunday will be even better.
Fallon: How are you?
Diablo: Good. U?
Fallon: Ok.
Diablo: U working today?
Fallon: Yes. In the house.
Diablo: What do u do?
Fallon: I have a lot of chores.
Diablo: Chores? Isn’t that shit u do when ur a kid?
A long pause. Did I piss her off? Fuck. He started to text, but then his phone vibrated.
Fallon: I have to go.
Fuck!
Diablo: I didn’t mean 2 offend u. Let’s text some more.
Fallon: I really just wanted to say thanks. Bye.
Diablo: What did u like the best bout the ride?
He waited for an answer but it never came. Breathing out through parted lips, he placed his phone on the table and went back to the Sportster. At least I’ve got her number now.
For the next two hours, he worked on the Sportster until he’d isolated and fixed the problem. The intensity of his concentration kept Fallon from coming to the forefront of his mind, but she hung around the edges of it. When his phone pinged, he wiped his hands, a smile threatening. He groaned when he saw the name—Taya, his younger sister. What the hell does she want? Money. She always wants money.
Taya: How’re u? Been a while.
Diablo: Like 6 months. U need money?
Taya: That’s all ur gonna ask me? Just bout the money?
Diablo: Cause that’s the only time I hear from u.
Taya: U never contact me. U don’t care.
Diablo: I spent 3 fuckin’ yrs in the pen 4 u!
He breathed out and put the phone down, ignoring the ping. Closing his eyes, he was transported back to his youth. He’d spent four years in the foster care system, separated from his siblings. When he turned eighteen, he went looking for his younger brother and sister, having heard they were placed together with the same family. By the time he’d contacted them, Beau was already using and Taya was terrified to be alone with him. Diablo got closer to her, and one night when she was munching on a slice of pizza at Luigi’s Pizza Joint in downtown Salt Lake City, she told him that her foster dad made her touch and suck him. When she’d told him that, all color disappeared from his life except red.
Two days after Taya’s revelation, Diablo had waited for the dirtbag outside the factory, confronting him as he came into the parking lot. The man told him Taya was a liar and a manipulator and needed therapy. He’d said her life revolved around her getting attention.
Diablo told his sister what her foster dad had said and she denied it vehemently. That night, Diablo hid in the closet in Taya’s bedroom. Around one in the morning, the dirtbag came into the bedroom and started messing with Taya, who tried to push him away. Without thinking, Diablo had burst out of the closet and pounced on him, almost beating him to death.
Less than a year later, the jury came back with a guilty verdict for second degree assault. On his nineteenth birthday, the judge gave him five years at Utah State Prison. Three years later he’d been released for good behavior.
He shook his head and picked up the phone.
Taya: I know. I don’t know y I said u don’t care.
Diablo: I’m busy. How much do u need?
Taya: A thousand would be good….
Diablo: R u gonna smoke it all?
Taya was a crank addict and she turned tricks to get money to support her habit. From the underground grapevine, he’d heard she had a pimp and had hooked up with an internet porn site.
Taya: No.
He snorted. She’s such a fuckin’ liar. There’s no way she’s gonna tell me the truth. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared out at the mountains in the distance. Images swirled around his mind: Taya cuddling next to him for comfort when their mom had beaten her bottom, her small fingers using magic markers to color in the faded and worn hand-me-down dress when she was nine years old, large tears rolling down her face when the Department of Social Services came to their house to take them away from their mother.
He blew out a long breath.
Diablo: I can wire u 800. Western Union. Same place as last time.
Taya: Luv u!!! Thx.
Diablo: Ya. Have u heard from Clarissa?
Taya: No. U?
Diablo: No.
Taya: No matter. S
he’s a bitch. Like Mom. Gotta go. When u gonna send the money?
Diablo: In 2 hrs. Will text u. Take care.
He knew he wouldn’t hear from her again for quite a while. If people knew what she did to him, they’d think he was crazy for still talking to her, but she was his sister… his blood. As the images of his past started to creep from the dark corners of his mind, he willed them back. He didn’t want the memories at that moment. What he wanted was to have dinner with Fallon, but he knew she wasn’t ready for that.
Glancing at the clock, he decided to cut out early so he could wire the money to Taya.
A couple of hours later, he was clicking the remote absentmindedly as he stretched out on his bed, a towel wrapped around his waist. He settled on a station showing an infomercial on power smoothies, a blender mixing a container of green liquid.
A knock on his door snapped him out of his lethargy. Pulling up from the bed, he shuffled to the door and opened it. Maria stood there, her eyelids puffy and red.
“Can I come in? I really need a friend,” she said between sniffles.
Diablo nodded, stepping aside to let her in. Comfortable in his room, she went over to the bed and sat down, running her hands over the green blanket covering it. He went back to his spot on the bed, pushed up the pillows, and leaned back against the headboard.
“What’s going on?” he asked as he scanned her mascara-streaked face.
“I just found out that my brother’s got liver cancer real bad. He’s had it for a while and no one even told me.” She covered her face with her hands.
“That fucking sucks.” Diablo tugged her to him and she clung to him. “I didn’t know you had a brother.” He really didn’t know anything about her, Lucy, or any of the club girls. They never talked about family or their backstory with the brothers. He suspected the other women knew each other’s business, but the club girls were always jovial, sexy, and playful around the men.
“Yeah. Him and me were real close when we were kids. He ran away from home when I was twelve. I didn’t hear from him for years. Three years ago he found me, just like that, and we went back to being close. I can’t believe I’m gonna lose him.”