by Stacia Leigh
“It’s okay. Maybe a little distracting, but…” he waved the notion aside and debated whether he should pull the towel up like a hoodie. He might need the added protection in case this conversation went from a sure thing to hell-a-awkward. “I’m here because I wanted to talk to you…you know?”
He slowly draped the towel over his hair as if he needed to rub it dry again.
“Talk…now? I can’t! I need to use the bathroom. I have to comb my hair, obviously…” she kicked her bare legs out of the sleeping bag and reached for a pair of denim cutoffs. “I need to get dressed and brush my teeth.” She tugged the shorts on underneath her night t-shirt, and he tried to pull his eyes away, but he couldn’t unsee the color of her underwear—neon pink.
Whoa.
Maybe she needed her privacy. Should he be here right now?
“Wait for me, okay, Will?”
I may or may not be a gentleman. I repeat: I may or may not—
“What? Oh, sure…” He nodded. “No problem.” She smiled, gathered her things, and dove out. Zip-Zip! She was gone.
Will pulled the thin towel over his face while mentally preparing for some deep breathing until Miki returned. What should he say to her? Words definitely needed to be exchanged, but he didn’t know the exact way to start. Maybe his buddy J.J.’s approach—“So…”—was the best bet to see where things went. There was timing and mood to consider…and effort, right? He should get extra points for visiting her on her territory and for initiating the conversation. But she ran off, and now, his stomach churned painfully, either from low food intake or from the impending feeling he was about to make a colossal fool of himself.
“Will!” His dad’s voice bellowed from the campsite. “Liam! Anyone and everyone…wake up! It’s go time. Cindy’s here and waiting.”
Huh? Will jerked the towel down. What did he mean, here and waiting?
Zip! He jerked the flap aside and crawled out, squinting against the sun. A power pack of muscle, bad hair, and black leather eased forward—some crawling out of tents, some stretching for the sky, and others scratching their bellies as they surrounded the dusty picnic table. Uncle Shorty rested his boot on the bench, lighting up his breakfast cigarette. He waved Will over.
“Willy Boy. Up and at ‘em.”
Will made his way to the table and elbowed in to be closer to his dad, who looked a whole lot cooler without the hair-whip hanging down his front. Will tore his eyes off his new and improved dad to frown at the roughhewn table. In the center sat Mom’s ashes in the same taped up brick. The only difference was the strip of masking tape covering the hole Greer had cut into it. Next to it sat a stack of red plastic Solo cups and the switchblade, the one dad had used to cut off his beard.
“Dad, where…” Will shook his head. “How did you get Mom’s ashes?”
“Not to worry, my son. Club business,” Dad said, picking up the knife and glancing around the table. “We all here?”
“We’re not talking about club business. We’re talking about Mom. And no, we are not all here. Look around, do you see Miki? No you don’t, and you know what? I’m not doing this. We did the whole memorial thing last night—”
“Miki!” Dad boomed and raised his palm in the air.
Will glanced over his shoulder to see her walking across the campsite. She wore her sleek leather riding pants with a clean t-shirt. The octopus hair had been tamed into a soft blue wave swinging along her jaw with each step. Her eyes were wide and questioning.
“Miki,” Dad said. “We’re getting ready to ride, and we’re taking Cindy’s ashes with us. Burnout Rally, here we come!”
“Yeah, man, let’s do it,” Flossy murmured.
“Ashes?” Miki asked. She stopped and looked at Will across the small gathering of Hides of Hell bikers.
“Dad…No!” Will yelled in front of everyone, not really caring about respect or the lack thereof. Screw them! He was being railroaded here. “I mean, dude, what’s the freakin’ rush, right? Last night you hacked off your beard, and I…I made my peace. I’m ready to move on. I’m ready to go back home.” Will waved his casted arm at the brick. “With the ashes here…don’t you see? She was stolen by a Pulver Skull, and I don’t know how, but she’s back. Isn’t it like a message from the universe or something? A sign we should keep them?”
“It’s a sign we’re moving forward. Follow through, got it?” Dad’s bearded chin jutted out, and he gripped the switchblade firmly, holding it up. “Nothing you can say is going to change the course of today. This ride is dedicated to Cindy Sullivan, and all of you standing before me are who I consider my family. It’s an honor you’re with me and my sons. All of us, we’re spreading these ashes together.” With a flick of his thumb, the blade sprang forward, pointing to the sky. The sharp metal glinted in the sunlight.
“You’re not even giving me a chance to…to think things through.” Will clutched his dad’s forearm to keep the knife still. “The plan was for me to head home with Aunt K—”
Dad covered Will’s hand with his free one. “Your Aunt K changed her mind. She’s my sister, and this is family business. Right Karen? It means a lot to me.” Aunt K nodded soberly, watching Will.
He jerked his hand from beneath his dad’s. Un-freaking-believable. Aunt K had made it clear only yesterday how he would ride back with her. Now? She stood under the heavy arm of Uncle Shorty like a folded deck of cards. Mrs. Norton, his teacher and supposed role-model, his only aunt, couldn’t stand her ground under the Hides of Hell pressure? Just great. Will inhaled a sharp breath. If they thought he’d buckle the same way, they could think again. Filthy—
“Hey, Will. You can ride with me, okay, bro?” Liam suggested helpfully as if he were pacifying a two-year-old.
“I’m not riding in your bitch seat.” Will scowled. “I’m with Miki!” His insides churned with emotion. He felt rushed to say goodbye and panicked to say hello and cornered by time. Was he ready for this? Ready for a second chance at moving on? Hell, ready or not, the roller coaster had left the station, and he was duct taped to the front car. While his insides grappled with the momentum, Miki stood by, calm and quiet and as beautiful as ever…brown eyes, blue hair, and rockin’ a pair of scuffed-up motorcycle boots. Her arms hung loose at her sides with fingers decorated in silver.
Go time. Now or never. He hated goodbyes, but to have peace, he needed to let go of the ashes for a second time. Goodbye, old life. Hello, new one. Hello, Miki. Wherever she decided to go—home, lake, rally—he’d follow. No more looking over his shoulder for the pin-striped vest. No more worrying about anger management’s missing meathead. He’d confront Owen if he had to because Miki was worth it.
Will took a step closer, his eyes on hers.
“Miki…” He held out his hand. “I really need to talk to you.”
“Will! We are doing this…right…now!” His dad bellowed behind him.
“Stop pushing me around!” Will shouted over his shoulder.
“Dad,” Liam murmured. “Give him ten minutes to get sorted. We can all wait, right? It’s not a big deal.”
“Will! You’ve got ten minutes…No more! Then, we roll.”
Will tilted his head in a “let’s walk” way, and Miki nodded. She matched his stride past her tent, through a row of shrubs, across the paved walkway, and around the corner to the back of the bathrooms. Nobody could see them; nobody could hear them. He leaned his head and shoulders against the painted cinder blocks and looked up at the bird poop staining the roof beams. His heart idled high in his chest from too much pissed-off excitement.
Dude, calm down and talk.
Okay, but was this the right place? The right time? The right mood?
Anger, bird crap, and toilets. All signs pointed to no.
He leveled his gaze to watch Miki from under his lashes. They stood in silence, except for some chattering birds and the buzz of insects. He pulled his shoulders down and forced himself to relax. Finally, he could breathe normally.
“
So…” he said, trying to come across all chill and casual. He waited for her to grab his first word and run with it. He started the conversation. Couldn’t she drive it from here? Wasn’t it her speed? Forward motion? God, he was screwing this up already.
Miki arched her brow. Will nodded with encouragement. Please say something…help a guy out. She didn’t. Instead, she looked down to examine her fingernails.
Will blew out the breath he’d been holding. Shit. Forget it.
“So is it okay if I ride with you? I mean, I’d like to…” Will let his voice drift off. He was so lame.
“Sure.” Miki shrugged. Her face pulled down with disappointment as she smoothed hair behind her ear. “Is that it? That’s what you wanted to talk to me about, out here by the bathrooms?”
“I…I want to say goodbye in my own way,” Will said and looked down at his bare calves sticking out of his brother’s basketball shorts. The skin below his knee was bright pink. Scars to remind him of his drunken stupidity. Everything was changing, mending, moving on.
“Oh,” she said, and he looked up.
“I can’t believe my dad is going through with this. You know? Especially after the hotel kid, Smiley, nabbed the ashes. I mean, my dad and the rest of the guys must have gone through hell to get them back…only to toss them into the wind?”
“Through hell? I doubt it. I’m betting Valentina’s the rat, and she sweet-talked the ashes right out of Smiley’s clutches and hand-delivered them to your dad. She had to worm her way into the Hides of Hell hearts somehow.”
Will studied her, a half grin tugging at his lips. “I love the way you have it all figured out.” He pushed off the wall to stand close to her, not touching, but if he wanted to, he could…and if she wanted to, he sure as hell wouldn’t stop her. “I wish…I wish we could go back to a time when everything was normal. My mom would be alive, of course, and I would have you in the closet playing twenty minutes of—
“Seven minutes, Will. The game is called Seven Minutes of Heaven.” Miki smiled up at him, and Will inched closer, toe to toe, and traced a finger along her hand.
“We could do a lot more in twenty,” he murmured. “Afterward, you’d probably still tell everyone I farted, because it’s what you do…” Will held up his hand to keep Miki from interrupting, “…and I’d still get mad because it’s what I do, but this time I’d answer your texts, Miki. I’d listen to you, and I’d forgive you, because I want to give us a chance, and I want…”
Miki waited, but impatience won out. “I want…?” She coaxed him.
“I want you to give me a chance.”
“Yes, Will, and you can ride on my bitch seat.” She closed her fingers around his.
Will smiled, squeezed her hand, and led her back to the campsite. His guts tumbled with nervous energy, but his mind and heart were at ease. They stopped beside the picnic table next to Owen, and biker conversations paused. Heads turned to openly assess them, but Will didn’t let the scrutiny stop him from draping his good arm around Miki’s shoulders.
“My girl,” Will said, trying to stay chill. He shrugged like it was no big deal, but when Miki’s arm snaked around his back, he couldn’t stop the goofy smile from taking over his face.
She hugged his waist. “And he’s my guy,” she said proudly, facing Owen, who studied them through narrowed eyes. Big brother didn’t say a thing.
Ha! Suck it, Owen. Will kissed Miki’s hair.
“Go, Gadget,” Flossy murmured around his toothpick.
Dad stabbed the plastic brick with the switchblade and slit it open, exposing Mom’s ashes to the slight breeze. Using the Solo cups, he scooped up small amounts and passed them to the brothers who formed their tight-knit family: Leo, Flossy, Trip, Owen, Mook, Caboose, Aunt K, Uncle Shorty, and Liam. Each person took a cup and chatted about a favorite memory. When Will accepted his cup, he didn’t feel obliged to speak. His mom had been in his head, so she knew exactly what he thought.
Miki combed the blue hair away from her face and slipped on her helmet. She straddled the bike seat wearing a leather coat with a hole in the back. It had definitely seen better days.
“Hop on!” Miki hollered over her shoulder as she turned the key. Her black Suzuki cruiser roared to life—boom, boom, boom, boom. Will adjusted the helmet strap under his chin and bent his leg over the seat to sit reverse, his back pressing against Miki’s. He rested the Solo cup on his thigh, covering the top with his good hand to keep the ashes inside.
They pulled away, nice and easy at the end of the line per usual. Will watched Caboose lean into a curve and open the throttle to pass them on the straightaway. Finally, a little privacy. Will studied the cotton clouds floating in the sky and actually felt everything click: the time, the place, the mood. He tipped a handful of ashes into his palm and squeezed his fist as hard as he could. When he slowly opened his fingers, the fragments and powdery grit joined the air, the exhaust, and in an instant, Mom was gone.
She was the wind in the trees.
CHAPTER 23: Two Point Five
Miki and Will coasted into Burnout sucking on the exhaust of the Hides of Hell horde but well ahead of Caboose this time. The group was two days late to the event due mostly to the P-Skull shenanigans. It was hard for the Overdale Chapter to be on time when they had to pull a rescue mission out of their crevasses en route. The kidnapping horror stories began at their arrival and grew bigger, badder, and more bizarre as the festivities wore on. It was a biker’s version of a fishing tale.
Miki sipped on an iced lemonade outside The Dirty Nickel Saloon with Trip, Owen, and some other guys while she waited for Will. He was with Liam, walking through the tents of refurbished helmets and gas tanks. Those two were taking their sweet time, and patience wasn’t one of her strengths. Miki waved her hand to cut through the lingering cloud of cigarette smoke. Nope…no patience. She was done.
“Leo’s kid, right?” asked some skinny geezer with a lisp. Before she could respond, he poked her in the ribs, which seemed a little forward. She narrowed her gaze at him, and he wagged his grizzled eyebrows. “You’re lucky the P-Skulls got ya. They can’t do anything right. Why…when I was commandeered by the Hoolies, they had me for nearly a week. I was punched in the face so hard, I swallowed my two front teeth.”
“Oh. Uh, that sounds…painful?” Miki stabbed at the ice in her cup with a red and white straw. She was done with the Hoolies, the P-Skulls, bodily injury stories, and all things kidnapping. Where are you, Will? I wanna go home; I miss my mom, my clothes, my bed—
“Check it out.” The guy pulled back his hairy top lip to show off his toothless grin. Chuffs of laughter went around followed by, “You think that’s bad…”
Miki turned away to roll her eyes in private and spotted Will jog-walking across the street toward her. Projectile happiness flew out of her chest, and she beamed like an idiot. She couldn’t help it! She tossed her cup into the trash, and when he was close enough to grab, she hooked her elbow with his and pointed him in the direction he’d come from.
“My bike’s that way, and I’m ready to ride. If we leave now, we’ll be home before dark.” She smiled up at him.
“Sounds like you want to get me alone…” Will quirked a brow, then gave her the heavy lids. “…again.”
“You better not say ‘Law of Least Effort,’ or I’m gonna…” Miki shook a solid fist—all knuckle and silver—under his nose.
“Why don’t you calm down?” he asked with a grin and hip checked her, sending her off a step. He scooped his good arm over her shoulders and reeled her to his side. In a suave move, he tilted her back, and planted his warm lips on hers.
It was the simplest, most natural, smooth-i-est, mind-meltiest kiss she’d ever had, and all she could do when he righted her was blink. Oh, my God. What just happened to me? She pressed fingertips to her lips and hoped like crazy that whatever this buzzing feeling was…that it kept on keeping on. Again and again.
Will’s lips turned up into a smile. “Come on. Let�
�s find Aunt K and Uncle Shorty and get out of here. I’m tired of this biker scene.”
“Me, too.”
“Really? I thought this was your thing. Isn’t it why you want to be a mechanic?” He took her hand loosely in his and guided her back into the throng of tents where they were immediately engulfed by the aromas of beer, sausages, and carburetor cleaner.
“Yeah, at first. I wanted to hang out with my dad, and I thought if he needed me…” She shrugged. “You know, maybe he’d invite me to rides and rallies. Instead, I spend most of my time in the garage with Flossy, changing oil and patching flats while my dad’s…who knows?” She waved her hand through the air; her dad had his own thing going on.
They passed barbecue pits on one side and tents with buzzing tattoo needles on the other. In the distance, Twisted Sister blared through speakers, “Ride to Live, Live to Ride!” competing with the nearby laughter and revving motorcycle engines.
“I still want to be a mechanic, though. It’s like a big puzzle but with dirt and grease.” She wouldn’t apologize for the things she liked: the rumbling noises, the black leather, the wind. “I love motorcycles, but believe me…even if those guys begged me to be a member, I wouldn’t. I don’t ever want to be that worried or scared again. Their world is not how I see my life. I just want to have fun.”
“I know. Me, too.” Will swished his long bangs to the side to look at her. “There’s no way I’m signing up for the club life. My dad knows it. Liam knows it. Everyone knows it. Doesn’t stop me from wanting another bike, though. You and I can ride—”
He stopped dead in his tracks. “No way. Check it out.” A big grin spread across his face as he nodded to a silver pull trailer with a mint-green sign that read, Cream Dream: Twenty Flavors. “Karma. I’m getting my second chance.”
“How so?” she asked as an older woman with bleached blonde cornrows and a leather fringed bikini leaned out the window. “Happy Cream Dream. What can I get you two?”
Will’s face warmed as he squeezed Miki’s hand. “You carrying black licorice by any chance? Yeah? We’ll take one scoop in a sugar cone.”