Loving Me, Trusting You(28)

“I dunno. Just thought that bike trick of yours was a little cruel. Sweet Jesus. And you wonder why I was jacking off in the bathroom?” She laughs this time, just a cruel, little chuckle, but at least it's something.

“I didn't wonder why, Gaine. I knew.” She takes a drag and passes her cig to me. I look at it for a minute and accept it, sliding the stick between my lips with a smile. “But I had to teach you a lesson. And thank you. It was complicated.” She sighs and spins around, leaning back over the railing so that her hair catches in the breeze and sways, a silken cloud of darkness that makes me wet my lips and shift uncomfortably. Mireya lets her eyes close and takes in a deep breath.

My gaze falls to her chest, to the rise and fall of her breasts, the line of dark cleavage. I shiver and feel myself responding to the sight. Christ, Gaine, you shootin' for a marathon run today? I keep myself angled forward, so Mireya can't see. I don't want her to think that all I'm thinking about is f*cking. Far from it. If anything, I'd like to be the one to help redeem Mireya's soul. I hold my hand out and focus on my fingers, curling them in towards my palm. If I get the chance, I'm going to spare her anymore blood on her hands, even if she hates me for it.

I lick my dry lips and lean my elbows on the railing, letting the cigarette dangle from my mouth. Now that I've banned myself from bitching and nagging Mireya, I don't exactly know what to say.

“You got any ideas on how to deal with these girls for the evening?” I ask, trying to smile. The smoke falls from my mouth and tumbles end over end to the sizzling pavement below. I watch it go with a sigh. “I mean, Amy's had it pretty easy since she got here. Maybe a little hazing would be in order?” I look over at Mireya who's cracked an eye to look at me. Even half-lidded, her gaze is powerful, cutting through my chest and stabbing me straight into the heart.

“Can I break Amy's face in half?” she asks, but then she smiles and my heart flip-flops. I feel like a f*cking tool when I'm around her, getting all these lame ass fluttery feelings and shit. I'm into the fairytale crap, but I'd rather not be the princess. Still, for Mireya, I might be able to make an exception. My smile turns into a grin.

“I think you already tried that, babe, and it didn't exactly go over all that well.” For a second, Mireya's still and silent, and I'm pretty damn sure I've f*cked up this quiet moment of in-between, but then she grins and stretches with a groan.

“Fucking bitch fights hard.” She stands up and slips her leather jacket off her shoulders, revealing the sleeveless whatever-it-is that she's got on underneath. Looks like lingerie, but that's alright with me. I don't mind a good look-see. “For a little * cat that is.” She puckers her red lips at me and tosses a wink, sliding open the door and then using her hip to push it the rest of the way. I don't miss the way her leather pants hug her curves and kiss her ass, rolling my eyes to the sky and praying for somebody or something to help my dick out a little. Poor f*cker's had enough trauma today.

“Get your bitch asses dressed,” she barks at them, sizing up the two skinny pale girls. Christy jumps, but Amy doesn't flinch. Actually, she smiles. “We're going out to buy a bike.”





Evening is peeking its sultry head out of the sky and getting ready to swallow the day. There's less than an hour before the dealership closes, but I say f*ck it. If you give off the right attitude, people will bend over backwards for you.

When we walk into the glass doors and move across the linoleum floor, we get some looks. This isn't exactly our sort of place. I doubt any of these f*ckin' people have actually ever seen a real biker before. This fine establishment is probably here to service the local balding male population, middle aged men looking for a way out of their midlife crisis without buying a convertible.

My nose wrinkles right away. This isn't exactly my scene. These are pre-built bikes from the manufacturer, name brands that'll never live up to the road the way I want them to. I already miss my Bonneville.

Gaine walks beside me, watching my face, smirking just a bit. He knows how this outing is going to go.

“Don't say a word,” I growl at him, thinking about riding on the back of his bike, knowing that I will do anything to get off of it. And it's not because of Gaine, it's out of principle. Being up against men who think women shouldn't ride makes me want to ride that much more. I want to grind that pavement and destroy the road. I want them to see me coming from across the state, gunning for it. I want to destroy perceptions and prejudices and grind them into dust. I'm going to have a hard time doing it with a make-a-million Tinkertoy, but there it is. I'm going to have to let my riding speak for itself.

“You gonna be alright with a piece of plastic there, honey pie?”

“Call me honey pie again and I'll cut your nuts off while you're sleeping.” I pause next to the counter and watch as one of the salesmen walks quickly towards our little group. Amy is looking around with a glint in her eye that tells me she's not going to be gracing the back of Austin's bike forever. I guess I have to cut the kid some slack. I might hate her guts, but at least she has some to spare. Christy looks like a damn deer in the headlights. She's taking in the motorcycles like they're monsters, ready to spring out and assault her at any moment. I haven't asked yet, but I hope nothing happened with Bested by Crows and her in that back room. I suppose at some point I'll find out, but I can't deal with that at the moment. Right now, this is all about seeing the best this shit hole has to offer.