Page 37 of Spyder
She called me last night to tell me about her fender bender and the big, scary guy who tried to intimidate her. She’d been pretty rattled, and I’d offered to come over and sit with her a while, but she said she was okay. I guess her mom was having a bad night and that probably had something to do with it as well. But Bellamy’s a tough, strong woman. If she says she is all right, I believe her.
But we made plans for her to come by the garage at the compound this morning so I can take a look at her car. The other reason I wanted her to come by the clubhouse is so that she can see firsthand that we’re not the group of bloodthirsty, gun-toting, smack-running murderers so many people seem to think we are. Yeah, we’re a little rough around the edges, but we’re all vets. That’s just the way we are.
She’d said she was okay with everything I told her at dinner last night. But it wasn’t hard to spot the uneasiness that lingered in her eyes. She has misgivings. And I suppose I can understand that. If you’re on the outside of an MC and your only knowledge of them comes from television or the rumors that run rampant all over town, you’re going to think we’re sketchy as hell. So, I wanted to show her we’re not all that bad. I wanted her to see it with her own eyes.
It’s pretty empty around here today—Prophet, the rest of Leadership, and a few of the other guys are all out doing recon, from what I’ve been told. But the guys who are here have been welcoming to her. They’ve all introduced and behaved themselves, as well as shown her we’re really not anything like the monsters the people in town like to say we are. They’ve pretty much just accepted her, which I think has made her feel a bit better about the MC as a whole.
“It was pretty scary at the time, but like I said, I might have jumped to conclusions,” she says as her eyes roam the compound before settling back on me pointedly. “It wouldn’t be the first time I did that.”
I chuckle, catching her meaning. She may have misjudged us, but I think that’s something that’s totally different than being in a tense and potentially dangerous situation like she was in last night. It’s apples and oranges as far as I’m concerned.
“You’ve got good instincts and you’re intuitive as hell, Bellamy. Always have been,” I tell her. “Don’t ever start second-guessing yourself because that could be a fatal mistake. When you’re in a situation like you were in last night, all you have are your instincts and intuition. Listen to them. They won’t steer you wrong.”
She frowns a little and kicks at a small pebble near her shoe. The way the sunlight falls on her makes her hair shine like gold and her skin glow. It casts a nimbus around her, making her look like an angel descended from the heavens. She truly is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known and as I think about the time that we spent together last night, I can’t help but feel my arousal growing.
Clearing my throat, I push those thoughts away. At least for now. There’s a time and a place to let that beast out of its cage and right now isn’t it. No matter how bad I’d love to take her somewhere and bang her brains out. She needs some reassurance and understanding more than anything else right now. I squat down and take a look at the rear of her car, running my fingertips over the scratches and cracks.
“What was his name?” I ask. “The guy you bumped into?”
“Oh, I don’t recall at the moment. Paul or something—something that started with a P, I think.”
I file the information away, thinking that it might come in handy at some point. How many huge men who drive beat-up trucks with names that start with P can there be in Blue Rock? When and if I track him down, I figure I’m going to need to have a discussion with him about common courtesy.
“So… what do you think?” she asks.
“Shouldn’t be too hard to fix. Just need to buff out some of the scratches and the paint his truck left behind. A new taillight cover and something to seal up and polish the cracks in the bumper,” I say, shaking my head.
She cocks her head and looks at me. “What is it?”
“Oh, nothing,” I reply with a chuckle. “Just thinking about how everything’s made from plastic these days. Back when they made real cars, your bumper would have been made from good American steel. Probably wouldn’t have even scratched it. It definitely wouldn’t have cracked it.”
She grins. “We do live in a disposable society.”
“That we do.”
I walk into the garage and fish around in the boxes of spare parts we keep around—all labeled and tidy as per the rules of the clubhouse—for anybody who needs to work on their rides. Amazingly enough, I find a taillight cover that fits her housing and I have it on in a matter of minutes.
“Voilà. Just like new,” I say. “More or less.”
“You are amazing.”
“Yeah, I know.”
She laughs. “It’s your modesty that keeps me coming back, though.”
“I figured as much.”
She leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek and a smile. I give her a wink then walk into the garage to find the buffer. After getting it put together and plugged in, I walk back out to her car and put down a little polish, then turn the buffer on and go to work. It only takes me a few minutes to buff the scratches out and get the truck’s paint off her bumper.
The damage to her car is minimal and I have to think it was even less to the big Chevy truck she said he was driving. It certainly didn’t merit the sort of angry, in-your-face, threatening response Bellamy described. It just reinforces the notion in my head that people really are unreasonable assholes. It was an accident, and from what she told me about the accident, it sounds like it was his fault, anyway. I’ve got to think he knew that and preemptively went after her to shift the blame and to make her think twice about going after him for damages. Which also tells me he’s an idiot given the lack of any substantial damage.
My task done, I turn off the buffer and stand up to scrutinize my work. “That’ll do for now. We still need to get some sealant for those cracks. Don’t want them spreading. Once we get it sealed, we can think about getting the bumper painted to cover them up completely.”
Bellamy throws herself into my arms and gives me a long, deep kiss. It’s passionate and I’m surprised she’d kiss me out in the open like this. She is definitely not shy. She takes a step back and gives me a smile.
“Wow,” I say. “Do you happen to have any other chores that need to be done? More than happy to take it out in trade like that.”
Her laughter is like crystal wind chimes blowing in a gentle breeze. It’s a soft, high musical sound that’s pleasant. It’s a sound that fills me with a sense of peace and joy. And it’s a sound I could get really used to hearing a lot of. I swear she makes me feel like an awkward kid all over again. But I like it.
