Page 53 of The Biker and the Baker
Does Onyx miss it? Is that why he’s so wistful right now?
I look up at him. “Are you meeting someone here?”
He jerks his head in the affirmative.
It feels like an old, run-down estate. Multiple buildings and acres of land.
There’s a huge dome-shaped building across from the bar. Six trailer homes. A three-story high-rise of what looks like at least twenty apartments. A zinc-roofed area with a row of around eight motorcycles caked with dust and mildew.
Further beyond is land space twice the size of a football field framed with thick, tall trees and overgrown with wild grass, weeds, and poisonous berries.
“Not as hard as I thought it would be,” Onyx mumbles out of the blue.
This prompts me to look up at him. “What isn’t?”
“Being here.” He takes off his sunglasses with his free hand and hooks them onto the neck of his t-shirt. “Haven’t been through those gates in over two years.”
Unsure of the right thing to say here, I squeeze his arm to let him know I’m listening.
“This was my home. Where all my best memories live. Where I built some of the best friendships. Got my first blowjobandmy first black eye here.” He huffs out a breath and rubs his free hand down his face. “It’s also where some of my worst memories live. But it was home, you know.”
With a new view, I glance around the compound again, taking it all in, trying to picture a young Onyx moving about here. “What happened?”
“We died.” He stares off at nothing. “Some figuratively, most literally. Including the most important man in my life—my dad.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, pressing closer.
“Rode up to the gates at the butt crack of dawn one morning after closing up Cookie’s Crème, and his severed head was right there in front of it. Just tossed on the ground like an old, punctured football.
“Jesus,”I gasp.Holy shit, that’s horrific.I can’t even begin to imagine the kind of emotions that went through him when he saw that. How devastatingly traumaticwasthat?
“Haven’t been able to get past those gates since.” He tugs at his beard. “This is the first time since that morning…”
“But, if it’s been so hard for you for so long, why did you choose to meet here?” I ask him. “Why not go somewhere that won’t tear you up so much?”
“A test.” And for the first time since we got here, he looks down and meets my eyes. “Figured if I could get past those gates with you on the back of my bike, then I’d know I’m making the right choice with you.”
What does that mean?“How so?”
“You don’t believe me, Sweet P, but I told you, you’ve sparked something in me.” He brushes the tips of his fingers down my cheek. “You’re strong and confident and happy, and it reminds me of how I used to bebefore.
“When I came back from vacation and found you in the kitchen, the atmosphere was so different. So lively. So new. All everyone could talk about was Pia Saxena, the new pastry chef. We felt your energy throughout the entire building.
“So many times I’d catch myself smiling when I peeked at you through the kitchen windows. Didn’t know what that meant back then. All those random times I was feeling down and shitty and rode to the shop just to get close to the kitchen ‘cause I knew it would be pulsing with good energy.Your energy.Always left there feeling a shit ton better.
“You were convinced I never frequented the kitchen ‘cause I disliked you. Nah, babe, it’s ‘causeyou don’t need me. You’re a boss all on your own and that makes my job a whole lot easier. Everyone else, including Cookie, pull on me this way and that, needing Onyx for everything. Butyounever did. Instead,Istole from you. Siphoned your energy whenever I could.
“Then that night at the club, you couldn’t have known it, but watching you made me smile more than I had in years. When I caught myself lying to you, saying that Cal paid and left with two strippers, I realized it was because I wanted you for myself. Knew then that stealing little pockets of energy from you wasn’t gonna do it for me anymore. No way. What I wanted wasyou,with me,allthe time, basking in your fucking amazing aura.” He keeps nodding, as if agreeing with himself wholeheartedly. “Pulled on your strength to get through those gates. And here we are. Do you get it now? Do you understand that Ineedyou, Pia?”
Thud..thud…thudthudthud…thudthudthudthuthudthud….That’s the sound of my heartbeat rushing in my ears like a band of wild horses.
Mind blown by this deluge of emotions, it takes me a minute to form words. "Y-yeah...I think so."
With that, he grips the back of my neck and slams his mouth to mine. It's hot and deep and speaks a language I don't yet understand. He kisses me as if he's starved and I'm a buffet. With matched fervor, I kiss him back.
We go at it like passionate lovers in the middle of a deserted land, until the rumble of a motorcycle knocks us apart. Both our heads whip to the gates, chests heaving.
A helmet-less biker throttles through on his Harley. From his graying beard and sagging jowls, I guess that he's somewhere in his mid-fifties. There are hints of resemblance to Onyx and Cookie all over his features, in his face and the touches of red in his hair. A relative, it seems.
