Page 14 of The Biker's Last Rodeo
“So that’s it? You’re looking for novelty?”
“No, I’m looking for something to wake me up. I feel like I’ve been sleeping for decades. I was dating this guy a few months back. We were together for almost a year. He was nice, and he worked really hard, but the physical chemistry wasn’t there. It was so awkward, even kissing. Of course, now that I’m gone, he’s all about me. My friend Kera just confirmed that he’s on the hunt, trying to find out where I am.” I flash a playful grin. “Better watch out.”
He takes another bite of chicken and then moves to his tea. “I’m not worried. Why’d you stay so long if you hated it? You don’t seem like the patient type.”
“I thought maybe we’d grow into it. Maybe we’d learn each other, and the physical stuff would get easier. It didn’t. Then I saw you, outside the diner studying that rival gang. And… all the sudden my body was awake. I don’t know how to explain it.”
He clears his throat and looks away for a moment before glancing back. “I noticed that earlier. You were soaking wet.”
“Yeah, apparently I’ve got a bad boy fetish.”
His eyes widen. “I ain’t tryin’ to be bad.”
“Yeah,” I smile, “I think that’s why it works.”
“You said you saw me at the diner? How the hell do you go back there after everything? I would have thought you’d have been traumatized after somethin’ like that.”
“Ha! Probably am but the diner isthespot to be in town. If I didn’t go there, I’d have to leave Rugged Mountain, and I love it here. The people, the mountains, the vibe. It’s… home.” I pop abite of chicken in my mouth and chew slowly, eyes locked on his. “Plus, if I hadn’t kept going, I’d have never met Gordon Ramsey and John Wick’s love child.”
A breath of amusement slips from his lips. “I assume that’s me?”
“Bingo!” I lean back, grinning. “Besides,” I add, sipping my tea, “I had my share of therapy, and I’m one hundred percent sure I’m not a danger to society.Anymore.”
He doesn’t smile, just watches me as though he’s trying to find the fraying duct tape I hold my soul together with. “You laugh about it, but really… you’re not in pain?You were four years old.”
I smirk, deflecting some more, ‘cause that’s what I do best. “Do you want me to be in pain? I mean, I’m into all kinds of kinks, but this is a weird angle.”
“No,” he huffs, biting back a laugh, “that’s not what I’m getting at. I just… you seem so blase about the whole thing. I wonder how you got there.”
I tip my head, letting the tea swirl before I answer. “I mean, it took a lot of work. Two therapists, a stack of journals, and a stray cat that listened to me way more than he should’ve had to.”
“And that’s it? You felt better after that?”
“No, I mean… I still cry when I see families together on holidays. I wonder why that couldn’t have been me, but… I don’t shoplift ChapStick for the thrill of it anymore.” I pause to watch his reaction soften. “I follow big, inked-up bikers instead.” I sigh and finally take a sip of tea. “I had to stop letting the hurt tear me down. I had to come to terms with the fact that I don’t have a family. I never will.”
“You can build one. One of your own.”
“I could, but I don’t even know how to do that, or who to be when I get there, ya know?”
“I do.”
“How were your parents growing up? I think I saw a picture of them on the dresser in your room. They look like sweet people.”
“Very sweet. They were the best. The kind that’d take their shirts off their back to help you. Ran a ranch out in Texas and lived with this good neighbor policy that I wanted to hold on to, but… then the accident happened, and I lost it. I don’t know…” He shifts his weight and shoves his plate away.
Silence passes between us for a second before I speak. “You didn’t lose the parts of them inside of you. You buried it.”
“That kind of good doesn’t belong in the world I ended up in, and they deserved a better ending than the one they got. Someone has to pay for that.”
I rest my elbows on the table, fingers loosely wrapped around the tea glass as I watch him. I was wrong. The fire behind his eyes isn’t rage. It’s something colder, sharper, like his grief never thawed.
“You say someone has to pay, but I think the only one paying is you.”
The words settle between us. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t argue. He stands there with a haunted stare, fingers tightening around his glass like he’s bracing for something he can’t outrun.
“Yeah, probably right,” he finally says, sipping his tea. “Way I like it, I guess. If I’m not paying, who the hell is?”
I pinch my lips together and stare toward his massive frame. He’s so big, so strong, so steady in every way, except this. It’s like this one thing has a hold of him and won’t let go.
