Page 25 of Calypso's Shield
I slap a hand on his chest and grin. “Oh, Detective, I absolutely did.”
The Royal Bastards' back lot is filled with rows of old bikes, and the sun is high in the sky, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement. I lead Dalton over to a backup Harley, a sleek black Softail that’s less aggressive than my usual ride but still a beast in the wrong hands.
Dalton eyes it with the same caution he probably had disarming his first bomb. “Alright, what’s the first step?”
I tap the handlebars. “Get on.”
Dalton mounts the Softail, his movements stiff. I stifle a laugh as he grips the handlebars like they might bite him.
“Relax,” I murmur, walking around him. “The bike isn’t going to fight you unless you piss it off.”
Dalton exhales through his nose. “Noted.”
I stand beside him, hands on my hips. “Alright, listen up. The left foot shifts gears, and the right foot controls the rear brake. The right hand controls the throttle and front brake. The left hand is the clutch. Got it?”
He mutters under his breath. “Yeah, sure. Easy.”
I bite back a laugh. “Okay, first thing. Start her up.”
He turns the key, and the Harley rumbles to life beneath him, his hands tightening instinctively around the grips.
“Good,” I say, circling him. “Now, pull in the clutch, shift into first gear, then slowly, slowly, release the clutch while giving a little throttle.”
Dalton does as instructed, the bike jerking forward slightly before he steadies it. His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t stall it. I’m almost impressed.
“Not bad, Detective.”
He glances at me, smirking. “Told you. I’m a quick learner.”
I cross my arms, watching as he starts rolling forward, his confidence growing. “We’ll see about that. Try shifting to second gear.”
Dalton shifts up, and the Harley surges forward a little too aggressively. He wobbles but corrects it.
“Easy, cowboy,” I tease. “You planning on riding into the sunset, or do you actually want to learn?”
Dalton rolls his eyes but follows my instructions, getting a better feel for the bike. After a few laps around the lot, he pulls back up beside me and kills the engine.
“Alright,” he exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Not bad. What’s next?”
I tilt my head. “Now? We hit the road.”
Dalton blinks. “Wait, what?”
I grab my helmet, throwing my leg over my bike. “Only one way to really learn. You follow my lead. And if you wipe out, well…” I smirk. “Try not to die. I’d hate to lose my favorite detective.”
Dalton shakes his head but grins. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
I fire up my Harley, the engine roaring. “Oh, you have no idea.”
He straddles his bike, starts it up, and nods toward the exit. “Lead the way, Calypso.”
I pull out onto the road, glancing in my mirrors to see Dalton right behind me. He’s still stiff, still adjusting, but he’s keeping up. And damn if that doesn’t make something warm settle in my chest.
For the first time, he’s stepping into my world.
And I have a feeling he’s not turning back.
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