My Bad Boy Biker

by Natasha Stories

  TWENTY-THREE

  Cricket

  After several days, I’d stopped looking over my shoulder. I was convinced that I’d just been paranoid. What Jake had yelled about the accident being my fault didn’t even make sense. I couldn’t think of any reason it would have been my fault, so I came to the conclusion he’d just lashed out because he could see me, and he was angry about his bike.

  When Rose told me Zach was ready to see me, and also told me the good news that he should make a full recovery, I was over the moon. Therefore, I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have been when I started to cross the street from the bus stop to the hospital on the morning following his invitation.

  I was halfway across the street when an unholy roar alerted me to motorcycles coming straight for me. Instead of running for the safety of the sidewalk, I froze. With my shoulders hunched and my arms held straight to my sides in an effort to make myself as small a target as possible, I stood in the middle of the street while five motorcycles raced past me so close I could feel the air being sucked into the vacuum the left as they passed.

  First one on one side, and then one on the other, even two at a time. And it didn’t stop. As soon as they were past, they’d skid in a U-turn and race back at me. It seemed to go on forever, until suddenly they were gone.

  When the noise cleared from my head, I took a tentative step forward only to realize that I’d peed myself. Ugh. I couldn’t go in to see Zach like this. I looked down the street, trying to remember where the nearest department or discount store was. I needed to buy some underwear. Before I’d even made it onto the sidewalk, a serious-looking man grabbed my arm, forcing a scream from my throat.

  “Take it easy, Miss Baxter. I’m Detective Rogers, and this,” he continued, indicating a woman I hadn’t seen before, “is my partner, Detective Billings. We’d like a word with you.”

  “I…”

  “We saw what happened. If you’d like, Detective Billings can take you somewhere to calm your nerves. Would you like to go into the hospital for a cup of coffee?”

  “No! I mean, no, thank you. May I speak to Detective Billings privately?”

  With a mystified expression, Rogers backed off. I spoke in a low voice to the female officer. “I need to change… uh…”

  Her eyes widened. “Of course. I’ll take care of it.”

  She led me to the sidewalk and had me wait while she explained our errand to her partner. At this rate, I was racking up humiliation after humiliation. At least he made an attempt not to laugh.

  Less than an hour later, I sat in an interrogation room in the precinct, attempting to explain why I doubted very seriously that Zach was guilty of dealing the cocaine they said they’d found in the wreck. They weren’t buying my reasoning. “I just don’t think he would.”

  The next question made my blood run cold.

  “Are you aware of any other criminal dealings by your boyfriend, his stepfather, or the motorcycle club the Dust Devils?”

  “Th-that’s a b-broad question.”

  “Not too broad for you to answer it, Miss Baxter. It’s a simple yes or no.”

  “I think I’d like a lawyer.”

  “That’s all right. You’re free to go.”

  That was the last thing I expected to hear. “I am?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you for your cooperation. Do you need a lift back to the hospital?”

  The turnaround was baffling. They had to know that my asking for a lawyer meant the answer to their question about my knowledge of criminal activity was yes. Why were they letting me go? And offering to take me back to the hospital? It made no sense.

  When I finally got to Zach’s room, he was sitting up in bed, and he looked pale but good. He smiled when he saw me, even though I was late and probably looked like I’d just been through an ordeal, which I had.

  “Cricket! Thanks for coming. I thought you’d be here before.” He didn’t make it an accusation, but I was so on edge I snapped back at him.

  “Well, if your club hadn’t played dodgeball on their motorcycles with me as the ball, and if two cops hadn’t picked me up right after that, I would have been here sooner.” I felt bad for it immediately afterward. Neither of those things was his doing, but I’d been blaming him anyway. “I’m sorry. I’ve had a rough hour or two.”

  I raised my eyes to look at him, and noticed he looked stricken. “Zach? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  “What did they do exactly?”

  “Who? The club? Or the cops?”

  “The club first.”

  I told him, and then told him about the cops saying there was cocaine in the saddlebags.

  “That’s bullshit. Jake’s not a Boy Scout, but that’s not what... Something’s wrong with this picture.”

  Ignoring the sentence he’d cut off abruptly, I continued my story. As I related the strange happenings at the precinct, Zach grew more and more puzzled. Finally, I came to the part where they simply let me go and offered me a ride to the hospital.

  “I was pretty sure they’d arrest me when I stopped cooperating, but they just gave up, like I’d convinced them I didn’t know anything instead of the opposite.”

  “Yeah, it’s strange all right. Maybe Carl can shed some light on it. Let’s not worry about it right now. I have some good news!”

  I pasted a smile on my face, even though I had more concern than he apparently did about what had happened to me. “I heard! Your mom says you can make a full recovery?”

  “Well, the doctor says he’s cautiously optimistic. But he has to say it that way. He can’t hold out false hope. Cricket, I have to ask you something.”

  I dreaded what was coming, but it wasn’t what I thought.

  “Do you hate me for making you lose your job?”

  “No! Of course not. I mean, I’m bummed that I lost it, but I don’t blame you. I blame Jake and those assholes he calls friends.”

  “Well, I’m not without blame. But if you don’t hate me, is it too much to ask for you to stay here in Rawlins? I think we have something, and I’d like to know if we can see where it goes. But I can’t hold you back. It’s going to be a long time before I’m back to normal, if I ever am. Was what we started enough to make you want more?”

  Instead of answering him, I countered with a question of my own. “The other day, when you were brought in and then Jake and his gang showed up, they said you wrecking the bike was all my fault. When I got kicked out of the hospital, I didn’t know if they’d be waiting to beat me up or what. Thank God they weren’t around, and I got home okay. But then they did that thing today. I want to know what they were talking about, it being my fault. And I want to know if I’m in danger.”

  “I don’t have a clue, Cricket. Maybe Jake thought I was distracted or something. I think if they were going to do anything, they’d have done it already. Not just frightening you, but something worse.”

  “Worse how?”

  He shook his head. “Honestly, baby. I don’t know. I can’t figure out any of it. But if you’re scared, you should move. Go to Denver or somewhere. Far enough away they won’t want to chase you there, but close enough I can maybe see you sometimes. If you want me to, that is.”

  “Can you handle it if I don’t know yet? I care about you, Zach. I care a lot. I just don’t know if I’m prepared to…”

  “To live with a cripple.” He finished my sentence with no emotion in his tone, but I felt the judgment.

  “No! You aren’t going to be ‘a cripple.’ By the way, who says that? You aren’t going to be paralyzed, and even if you’re somewhat physically challenged, it’s not that, Zach, I promise! I don’t know if I’m a good enough person.”

  “I think you are, but I won’t hold you back. Yeah. If you mean can you stick around and see what it’s going to be like, and will I be okay if you leave after that, then give me some credit. I’m not a fucking fifteen-year-old. If you break my heart, I’ll live.”

  “Zach! Would it really break
your heart?”

  “Yeah, I think it fucking might.”

  In that moment, I knew I had to give it a chance. Because I thought it might break my heart to leave, but I was scared to death I’d let him down.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Zach

  I’d never been more scared in my life. Even in the past few days, when I thought I might have lost the use of at least my legs, I never dreamed I’d also face losing Cricket before we even got our relationship sorted out.

  I couldn’t blame her, though. She didn’t sign up for caring for a cripple or someone with a ‘physical challenge’, as she’d corrected me. I had to call it like I saw it, though.

  She hadn’t signed up for anything, really. If I’d had full use of my arms, I’d have punched something after she left.

  Fortunately, Dr. Wang came in and distracted me with more good news. They were going to discharge me as soon as Mom and Carl could get some arrangements in place. After that, the medical people would start testing the limits of my movements, and design a physical therapy program. As we talked, I realized some unpleasant truths about what my caregivers would have to put up with.

  “Doc, what about someone to help me at home? Any chance of that? I mean, I’m not anxious for my mom to have to start changing my diapers again.”

  “I understand your concern, Mr. Hayes. I will send a hospital employee who is familiar with such programs to counsel you.”

  After being fed my dinner, I worked on moving my arms. I hadn’t told anyone, but I’d been doing that ever since Dr. Wang said my spine injury was stable. I could almost conceive of a life without the use of my legs, fucked as that would be.

  Without my arms, though, what could I do? I wasn’t a brain, like that guy I’d seen on TV, all crumpled up in his wheelchair and talking with a mechanical voice. I couldn’t write a book, or paint with a brush held in my mouth, or anything else I could think of hearing about other quadriplegics doing.

  At least if I had the full use of my arms, I’d be able to do mechanic work of some kind. The dream of being part of the MC was gone now. Even if I recovered fully, I’d burned my bridges with the club by having the police brought in.

  And there was still the question of charges related to whatever had been found in the saddlebags. What was I going to do about that? Carl was right – the cops were never going to believe a lame ‘it wasn’t mine’ story. And even if they did, I half believed Jake would carry through on his threats.

  Smokey, Rooster, Sarge – they were a different story. They chose to live out of sight and pursue interests that could make enough money to live on without too much interference. They never intended the club to get into criminal pursuits. That was the younger generation’s doing. And even though the Originals were still in charge of the club, it had become clear already they weren’t able to prevent everything. So I couldn’t count on them to protect me.

  Worrying about what I’d do when push came to shove kept me awake most of the night, and then breakfast came just when I’d finally gotten to sleep. It was barely eight a.m. when a counselor came in and talked about registering for medical assistance, since I was unemployed and uninsured. She barely concealed her contempt, but she did help me get the paperwork done. I figured I was going to get a lot of practice ignoring that kind of shit until I was back on my feet, figuratively if not literally.

  After that, my room turned into Grand Central Station. My next visitors were the detectives who’d questioned Cricket the day before. They confirmed that there’d been cocaine in the saddlebags. Any amount of that shit would get me in trouble, but apparently there was enough to get me in serious trouble. Of course I told them it wasn’t mine, but I knew better than to answer any more questions. I did the same thing Cricket had.

  “I’d like a lawyer, please. And what about my Miranda rights?”

  “We’ll get to that when we arrest you. The investigation isn’t complete, but the doc says you aren’t going anywhere, so we’ll get it done right first.”

  Maybe I was paranoid, but the guy had dirty cop written all over him. I wasn’t sure about the woman. Cricket had said she was helpful. I didn’t see it, but I’d never been able to read women, cop or no.

  I repeated my request for a lawyer. With my medical assistance paperwork fresh in my mind, I knew I could get a public defender. Maybe Carl would spring for a better lawyer, especially with what he had to lose, but for now I needed someone to tell the cops to back off and do whatever he could to make sure I stayed out of jail until I got the therapy I needed. Dr. Wang had assured me that the quicker I could work on my recovery the better chance I’d have of getting to the best I could be.

  Speaking of therapy, right after lunch, I had another couple of visitors in the form of the two therapists, occupational and physical. After a brief wrangle about who talked to me first, the physical therapist agreed to come back in an hour.

  During that hour, the occupational guy talked about the accommodations I’d need at home, including a trapeze for helping me sit up once my arms were strong enough to pull me up. By then, I needed some comic relief, so I asked him if the support for it would also be strong enough to hang my girl in a harness for some kinky fun. When the physical girl came in as arranged, my new buddy the occupational guy and I burst into laughter.

  I wasn’t laughing after a grueling hour of the girl moving my arms in ways they didn’t want to go. She didn’t work with my legs in that session, but warned it was coming and it wouldn’t be fun. I started scheming how to lighten her up so I could tolerate what I was going to have to go through. I’ve heard laughter is the best medicine all my life. That was the day I understood why.

  I’d been wondering why Mom and Cricket hadn’t been around all day, but I found out when they finally came in together that they’d been waiting for a while for my therapy to be done. I asked them if it was because they didn’t want to hear me screaming, and Mom took on a horrified look, while Cricket tilted her head and waited for the explanation.

  “Did they hurt you, son?” Mom said, all sympathy.

  I barely kept a straight face as I answered her, “I thought they were going to break something off, Mom. Make them stop!”

  Her mouth dropped open, and she turned, I assume to go give someone a piece of her mind, just as Cricket said, “He’s full of shit, Rose. He’s pulling your leg.”

  Mom turned back to look at me. “No! Honest. They were pulling my leg! Hurt like a sonofabitch.” But the idea that my mom was going to go keep those meanies from hurting her baby cracked me up. Cricket grinned as Mom came over and lightly slapped my face.

  “Just wait until I get you home,” Mom said, a smile beginning to play on her lips. “I’ll have you just where I’ve wanted you ever since you turned eighteen. Under my thumb.”

  This was better. No more gloom and doom. I did have a rough road ahead, but with Mom’s and Cricket’s support, I’d get through it somehow. I winked at Cricket, and she winked back. I hoped it was a promise to stay.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Cricket

  I’d had a long talk with Rose. I told her that while I loved her son, we’d never slept together. It was a lot more than I would have said, if I hadn’t wanted to make it crystal clear why I was so on the fence. I wasn’t proud of it, and I said so.

  She said she understood. There was only a remote possibility he would be impaired in the sex department, and I was a young woman. If Zach and I had been married, or even engaged, before all this, she’d have expected me to live up to the ‘for better, for worse’ part of that commitment. If being involved with him hadn’t caused the loss of my job, she might have even asked me to make a clean break.

  As it was, neither of us knew how to meet our moral obligations to each other without me remaining here to help with Zach’s recovery in any way I could. Neither of us was entirely happy with the state of affairs, but we were determined to make things work, at least for the time being, for Zach’s sake. We got busy turning a room on the firs
t floor of her house that had been used for a den into a bedroom for Zach.

  Contractors would make the structural modifications it needed, but the two of us first had to empty the room of books, knickknacks, TV and electronics equipment, and furniture. Working side-by-side, we developed an even deeper rapport. Whether Zach and I could see our way through to a permanent relationship or not, I believed I’d always be friends with this woman.

  Eventually, she told me a bit about Zach’s father, and what Zach had done to protect her when he was only fifteen. It fit with what I knew of him as well as what he’d told me himself. Back in Sturgis, I’d known he wanted me. But he was a gentleman. Not perfect – there’d been one incident when he’d showed me his desire in a way I could have considered threatening. But he was in control of himself, and he’d always protected me. Maybe he wouldn’t ever be able to physically protect anyone again. I still considered him my hero. Rose’s story made me understand that part of him in a way I never had before.

  “What’s the deal between him and Carl?” I asked.

  “Carl loves me, and he knows Zach is part of me,” she answered. “Zach was old enough to understand completely what was going on when Carl and I became intimate. No eighteen-year-old boy wants some man taking advantage of his mother. It took some time before he accepted it.”

  “But he has accepted it? He’s okay with Carl now?”

  “It’s still not what I’d want for them. Zach said some things that Carl considered disrespectful, and Carl is a proud man. But they got past it. Carl gave Zach a job, and they’ve enjoyed a truce, at least, since then. Secretly, Carl is proud of Zach. He thinks he helped Zach grow up, and in some ways he did. A boy needs a strong father figure. Zach didn’t have that until Carl came into our lives. Even though he resented Carl at first, I think he grudgingly accepts that.”