Page 39 of Shine: Sins of the Father
I close my eyes and try not to think of the past. That’s done. It’s over. But I can’t wipe this weekend from my mind. It surestarted out great. Sweetness was quite the surprise. I would have loved to spend an entire week with her.
Too bad Donnie Ray and Carl had to fuck it all up.
I wonder where Donnie Ray is right now.
I found the damn tracker he put on my bike when we hit the first pull-over spot I could find once I knew we were safely away from that damn fire. He’d stuck it under my rear fender. I stuck it on a semi that pulled up next to us, asking if we needed help. Said he was headed to Reno. Maybe Donnie Ray is still following him. Or maybe he’s up at the lake, looking for his brother.
Shutting off the water, I grab a thick white towel and wrap it around my waist.
I hit the bed, grab the remote, and find a news channel, wondering about that damn fire. They’re running a report and show a map. It’s barely on the screen long enough, but it looks like the fire turned with the wind and is now headed in another direction. I hope so; I’d hate to see that little cabin burn. I’ve got some sweet memories of that place.
Grabbing my phone, I pull up Fiona’s photo.
My little sweetness is off limits, but I can still look at her. The fact that she’s forbidden really bothers me, maybe more than I thought it would. Guess that little girl got her hooks in me deeper than I knew.
Eventually, exhaustion overtakes me, and I slip under the covers and let sleep pull me under.
***
The sun is barely up when the road sounds from the interstate wake me. Eighteen-wheelers make a hell of a lot of noise.
Clasping my hands behind my head, I stare at the ceiling and wonder what my little sweetness is doing right now. Probably safe and warm in her bed.
Disgusted that I keep tormenting myself with thoughts of her, I fling off the covers, get dressed, and head out to my bike.
While I gas up, I stare at the IHOP, but the thought of another pancake house will only remind me of Fiona, so I skip it and grab a granola bar, an energy drink, and a few bottles of water for my saddlebag. Last thing I want to do is cross the Mohave Desert with no water stashed.
Flipping the bag open, my eyes hit the garbage bag I’d tucked in it yesterday with Carl’s gun and the other stuff.
Shit. I forgot to ditch it.
I glance at the garbage can, but I know this place has cameras, so I decide to toss it out in the desert along the way.
When I arrive at my clubhouse, I’m exhausted as I trudge up the steps of the porch.
Inside we’ve got a bar to the right, some couches and pool tables in the big center area, but I don’t do more than lift an arm to Lobo and Trick sitting at the bar.
“Daytona in his office?” I ask, and they both nod.
“How was your trip?” Lobo calls out, but I hold up my hand and head to our President’s office through the doors on the left. I tap and hear him yell out.
“Come in.”
When I enter, he leans in his chair and tosses a pen on a ledger on his desk.
“Well, you’re back. You have a good time?”
I take the seat across from him. “Good and bad. I need to tell you a bunch of shit, but first, I need to know one thing.”
He frowns at my serious tone. “What’s that?”
“Did you and the guys arrange for a woman to be at the cabin waiting for me, like some kind of a gift or something?”
He chuckles. “Are you being serious right now?”
“As a heart attack.”
When I don’t crack a smile, his fades from his face. “We did not. Why?”
