Page 23 of Come Ride With Me
“No!” she immediately yelled, hopping up from the chair so fast she almost tripped over the boot she was about to push her foot into. “I mean, I’ll just run home real quick while you get up and get dressed. Meet you back here in twenty minutes.”
She didn’t wait for his response, but grabbed her boot and made it out of that bedroom as fast as she could. Nash called out to her and she knew he was trying to hurry and put something on so he wouldn’t have to chase after her naked. So, she moved faster, grabbing her purse and coat and fumbling with the deadbolt lock on his door before finally getting out. She slammed the door behind her and hustled down the hall to the elevator. But that was moving too slow, so she located the door to the stairs and took that route instead.
Nash couldn’t come to her house—Bell’s house.
“Not yet,” she whispered after pulling out of the parking spot. “He can’t know who I am yet.”
He surprised her by not calling or texting while she’d been at her place getting changed and again, by doing what she’d failed horribly at pulling off earlier. Nash was acting normal.
They made it to the fundraiser just a short while after it started and Mica had immediately been wrangled by Amy, a member of the Night Hawks, to help with the event. Rock was there dressed in black jeans, a long-sleeved white shirt and a leather vest, his club’s patch with a huge golden hawk, on the front. This was different apparel from the sweatpants and t-shirts she normally saw him in at the dealership, but she noted it was similar to what a lot of the other men wore here.
Nash was dressed in dark wash blue jeans and a Miami Heat hoodie which had provided much needed relief at her decision to wear distressed jeans and a turtleneck to the event. For the next couple of hours Mica did everything from slicing the numerous cakes, pouring endless cups of punch and finally, blowing up balloons for the dart game the kids were enthusiastically enjoying. Thank the heavens for balloon pumps.
After the event was over Nash asked if she minded staying to help with clean-up. She hadn’t and so they moved around the hall cleaning and packing up things the club would use for their next event.
“Do you ride with them?” she asked Amy when they were both off to one corner, wrapping up the leftover pieces of cake.
The woman who was at least five inches taller than Mica, turned to her, flicking her flame red hair over one shoulder. “I sure as hell do,” she replied. “Best thing next to an orgasm.”
Her loud and boisterous laughter sounded through the hall after she’d said that and Mica couldn’t help but smile. She also couldn’t help but think about the many orgasms she’d achieved thanks to Nash throughout the night.
“So, I guess I won’t ask if you like it,” Mica conceded. She stacked the plates of cake into a box and then folded the box closed. “You all seem like a big family here.”
Just as she’d been ignorant of the motorcycle dealership business, Mica was lost on the concept of bike clubs and what function they actually served. But Google was her friend and so she’d done lots of research in that area as well. Still, today, she’d felt like most of that research hadn’t even begun to touch the surface. She meant what she’d said to Amy, being here today had felt like she’d walked into a family gathering. The way all of the members of the club were so attentive to the children and their parents who attended was heartwarming. The laughter and the food, all reminded her of times she would visit with Pam’s family, since she didn’t have many relatives of her own.
“We are,” Amy replied. “We do so many things together and have been a part of this club for so long. We’re a tight bunch and we love our bikes.”
That piqued her interest. “Did you buy your bikes from Bellamy Motors?”
“No,” Amy shook her head. “Couple of the new riders got their bikes from somewhere down in Daytona where they came from. Then there’s a dealership in D.C., Toronto Bikes, few of us got bikes from down there. But Bell, he was a good guy. Even if we hadn’t been in there to buy a bike or get one of ours fixed lately, he still showed up at our events. He donated money and then he always hosted the Rendezvous. We all loved and respected him and were damn sorry to hear that he passed.”
Mica had heard that sentiment many times in the weeks she’d been here and from many different people. Whether those that came into the dealership or other professionals at the bank or the investment firm where her father had an account, or the library when she’d returned the stack of books that had been on the dining room table with a note that they were due. Everyone had wonderful things to say about her father and how sorry they were that he was gone. None of them had any idea how sorry she was too.
“Did he ride with a club?” she asked.
There had been no evidence that he had in the house. No jacket with patches, no leathers, no bike keys and of course, no bike owned by him personally, but she’d recalled hearing somewhere that he used to ride.
Amy nodded. “A long time ago, with a club out of Delaware. But then there was an accident one summer when they were heading down to Bike Week in Myrtle Beach. One sixteen-wheeler and three bikers. Three died and one survived. The clubs that had been riding down together were all devastated. One of the riders who passed was Bell’s sister.”
Even though she hadn’t known her aunt either, tears immediately sprang to Mica’s eyes. “Oh. That’s so sad.”
“Yeah,” Amy agreed. “Heard Bell never made it to Myrtle Beach that year or any year after. He came home, buried Lynette, and opened the bike shop a year later. Some say he used the money from her life insurance policy. They have the nerve to frown their nose at that, but I say good for him. He paid the premiums on her policy, took care of that girl since she’d been a stubborn teenager and moved out of their parents’ house. He deserved every dime of that money and he put it to good use.”
“Yes,” Mica said quietly. “He did.”
There was ringing then. It took Mica a few seconds to realize it was coming from her back pocket. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind and hopefully will the almost shed tears away.
“Mica Mor…ah, hello,” she answered when she realized Amy was still standing within earshot. “What?”
She hadn’t known she’d yelled the last word, not until Nash appeared in front of her.
“Okay,” she continued, with a stiff nod of her head. “Right. I’ll be right there.”
“What’s wrong?” Nash asked the moment she ended the call.
“There was a break-in at the dealership.”
Chapter 9
