Page 85 of Stoker's Serenity

The rest of the day was spent on the lake. We took advantage of the big four-man yellow relaxation raft and even spent time swimming, and jumping on, and being launched off, the blob they had set up.

By evening, I was worn out, but was feeling mostly back to my old self, grateful that Stoker stuck with me and didn’t act or say anything about be being too clingy.

We were sitting around one of the fires and cuddling when Reaver dropped in beside me over the big rock we were using as a backrest, scaring the shit out of me. I had both hands over my heart while a few people had a good laugh over it, while a few more wore pinched expressions of worry.

“You scared the crap out of me!” I cried, breathless.

“I heard that about you,” he said with a grin, and he looked like a kid at Christmas – if the kids were clearly drunk and possibly high off of marijuana. He smelled faintly of both the low-key drug, a faint earthy scent, and alcohol, a sweeter, almost fruity overtone.

“People been bothering you?” he asked.

“Not here,” I answered honestly with a slight smile. I was leaning into Stoker who had his arm around me, and I felt like I was facing down a dangerous predator, looking at Reaver. Like he was a tiger in our midst and nobody, bizarrely, seemed any kind of concerned over it.

It was an incredibly strange feeling, but at the same time, though I was thoroughly intimidated, I still knew I was safe and Reaver, despite his glee at having scared the shit out of me, still seemed to want to make me his new best friend. He had a hell of an odd way of showing it, though.

“Now, this here, is my very favorite knife,” he said to me, flicking open a switchblade that he’d made materialize from seemingly nowhere.

I jumped at the little mechanical snick it made as the blade leapt free, and he grinned like the maniac I was quickly figuring out he was. A bunch of the people around the fire from his own club chuckled and I leaned further back into Stoker, who laughed slightly and said, “Easy bud, I know you get off on fear, but my lady’s had a lifetime of it.”

“Exactly!” Reaver crowed. “Which is why I am now gifting you my very favorite knife, Little Orchid.” He closed it up, turned it on his palm so the hilt was pointed at me and bowed his head gallantly.

“I wouldn’t even begin to know what to do with it,” I said.

“Somebody bothers you, you pull it,” Reaver said, like he was confused he even had to explain how this works.

“I’m a lover, not a fighter, so I wouldn’t know what to really do after that.” I laughed a little as I said it. The whole exchange was strange and completely laughable, really.

“Pro-tip,” he said. “They get close?” He leaned in, and in a conspiratorial tone, whispered loudly, “You stick ‘em with the pointy end.”

The people around the campfire lost it and he grabbed my free hand and turned up my palm, slapping the folded blade into it with one hand and curling my fingers around it with the other. He leapt up, scrambled up and over the rock and disappeared into the dark with everyone wiping tears from the corners of their eyes, they were laughing so hard.

“I don’t know just how many ‘very favorite knives’ Reaver has given out to women over the years,” Dray said from across the flames.

“It pretty much means he likes you,” Irish, Dray’s woman, chimed in.

“I guess it’s better than marking territory like pissin’ on a tree,” Doc said, and more howls of laughter ensued. I looked up at Stoker who was smiling down at me. He gave me a wink and I felt my shoulders lose some of the tension they were holding.

“You have some strange friends,” I whispered.

He chuckled lightly and kissed my temple, murmuring in my ear “In case you hadn’t realized it yet, Orchid, they’re your friends too, now.”

Oh.

26

Stoker…

The ride back on Monday was glorious. The sun was shining, it wasn’t too hot, and when we got close to Serenity’s exit, Cutter gave me the hand signals that I was good to break off from the pack and take her home. I saluted my captain and my crew and gave the handlebars a light twist to take the off-ramp into Ft. Lauderdale, and Serenity to her little studio apartment.

I didn’t like it one bit, either. I wanted so fiercely to take her home, my home, away from the fucksticks in this area, to turf that was more familiar to me and a sort of fresh start for her.

Wasn’t going to happen, though. At least, not today.

I pulled up to the curb out front of her landlady’s house, Mrs. Sedgwick waving at us from the front porch where she always seemed to be, watching the world go by.

“Hi Mrs. Sedgwick!” Serenity called, waving. She went over to talk to the old woman while I worked on getting her bag out of my saddle bag. She exchanged a few pleasantries.

I waved from where I stood and caught Mrs. Sedgwick telling my little orchid, “He’s such a nice young man.”

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