Riding On Fumes_Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance Page 3

  I could only offer a smile, punctuated with a gentle, albeit forced, giggle.

  He scowled, knowing I was politely telling him (without telling him) that his Candy was nothing short of shit, and shrugged yet again. This time with both shoulders. “Either way, the girl’s motivated. The promise of overseeing a privately-owned brothel has put the very spark o’ life into her; done lit a fire in her panties that I’m sure no John ever had.”

  “You sound like you’ve got a little crush,” I teased him.

  Danny scoffed at that and shook his head. “Not likely, girlie,” he said. “‘Less she’s hidin’ at least eight inches o’ spicy sausage in them fishnets, of course. And believe me when I says that I’m not sure there’s much room in what little she wears to hide much o’ anything. I’d be damn lucky to fit a pinky in them shorts if I was so inclined, which I ain’t; be too scared I’d touch somethin’ I shouldn’t.”

  I laughed and shook my head at him. “And what is it that you think we have down there?” I demanded.

  “Girl, I know what y’all got down there; ain’t no mystery. ‘Cept what us fags know that no arrow”—the word I’d come to learn was Danny’s term for straight men—“knows is this: y’all girlies got teeth in yer pussies.”

  I nearly doubled over with laughter. “Ex-excuse me?” I finally coughed out.

  “Ya heard me, girlie,” he insisted. “Teeth!” He made a show of hinging his palms together so that his hooked fingers snapped together like bestial jaws a few inches from my face. “Centuries ago, us faggots learned the terrible secret of Cuntus Fangata and swore a holy oath to use the soft, gentle, toothless depths of our fellow man’s poop-chutes. That’s how I knows if I go pokin’ ‘round in Candy’s no-no-zone just to try an’ prove it can’t be done I’m prolly gonna wind up losin’ a finger.”

  I was nearly crying with laughter at that point. “P-puh-please te-tell me… you don’t… really believe all that!” I begged through panting bursts.

  Danny smirked and gave me a playful look. “Nah. But it’s good propaganda to pass around in our conversion efforts. But ya didn’t hear that from me, kay?” He paused then, drawing in a heavy breath and groaning. It occurred to me that he was putting a lot of effort into keeping me relaxed—keeping me laughing and staving off my depression in Jace’s absence—and forcing himself not to worry. Or at least not to show it. “But… yeah,” he finally said, seeming eager to keep the silence from getting too thick around us. That Candy… she’s a feisty girl, ain’t she?”

  I laughed and nodded. “You have no idea,” I said, but the line felt forced.

  At the other end of the room, where the door that separated the waiting room—us—from where they had Jace—him—a doctor slipped through to consult the receptionist. For a long, teasing moment, I was offered a glance to the other side. It was nothing special to look at: just a sterile, long corridor lined with doors. An empty wheelchair waited beside one of the walls, looking like an abandoned soldier of war under the glare of the indifferent fluorescents, and the urge to break free of Danny’s banter, slip past the still-closing door, and take to the hall like a rogue warrior was upon me. After braving a burning building for him, it seemed a pathetically tame follow-up to steal across the imaginary “DO NOT CROSS”-line separating us from him. I wanted to be there with him, damned all the rules!

  Once more seeming to read my mind, however, Danny’s grip on my shoulder tightened. It was nothing painful, barely even a genuine hold, but it was the sort of gesture that reminded me I wouldn’t make it more than an inch from my seat before he’d be keeping me from making a mistake I’d likely regret.

  “Ye’ll see him soon,” Danny said, starting to stand then. “In the meantime, why don’t ya come with me?”

  “Come with… where?” I asked, stupefied by the shift in tone. “What about Candy?”

  Danny chuckled at that. “Girl’s got a cell,” he reminded me. “I can give ‘er the ol’ ringy-dingy an’ tell ‘er to meet us somewhere…” he paused to look around for effect, “Well, somewhere less depressin’.”

  “I think I’d sooner stay here. You know, just in case anything happens,” I said.

  “Don’t make me carry ya outta here, girlie,” Danny said as he rose to his full height, reminding me in that instant that he could make true on such a threat.

  Damn, I thought, it’s like he really can read my mind!

  Still standing over me, he placed his hands on his equally large hips. “Besides, ye an’ I both know ya can’t get a decent sleep here in the waitin’ room. So let’s go. These twats know my number an’ know to call it when Jace is done with his crazy-ass nap.”

  Before I could open my mouth to offer another protest, Danny had my hand in his and was leading me out the door. The rush of the cool night air hitting my face felt incredible and I could feel myself relaxing a bit as Danny led me to his bike. It, like him, was incredibly massive and intimidating until you stopped to truly study it for what it was.

  The words “HARLEY” and “FAT BOY” were easy enough to see, but when you looked closely you saw any number of playful tells that I, for one, found rather comical. The seat, when one looked straight down at it, was a gay pride flag stitched in strips of colorful leather, and there was something undeniably phallic in nature about the gas tank, which shone a bright and seemingly regal purple under the parking lot’s lights. The license plate—“MERC”—was a bit more obscure, something that I’d first mistook as an abbreviation of “mercenary.” Given his size and intimidating stature, I’d been certain early on that his involvement in Jace’s motorcycle gang was on par with breaking kneecaps and smashing skulls, and so I felt justified in assuming such a thing. But, no; like all thing’s related to Danny, they were simple in their complexity. And while I still had no idea why he had the nickname, “MERC” was short for “Mercury,” which was what everyone who knew him was expected to call him.

  He’d been patient with me thus far, but I’d started to notice a creasing in his brow whenever I slipped up and called him “Danny.” I’d since taken to “cheating” and just avoiding using any titles when it could be avoided.

  In that moment, being forced towards the giant motorcycle and guided away from the hospital—which was undeniably the source of a great deal of anxiety judging from how much lighter I felt with every step I took away from it—I couldn’t deny how thankful I suddenly felt. Suddenly I was every bit as certain as he had been in the waiting room that I needed this. I needed the feel of the night air on my face. And, though I wanted to consider myself a monogamous girl and had undeniably fell in love with the sensation of flying on the back of Jace’s motorcycle, I decided I was feeling naughty enough to “cheat” and accept a ride on the back of Danny’s Fat Boy.

  Yeah, I needed this!

  “Ya look a million times better already,” Danny grinned triumphantly.

  “Ha ha,” I said in an attempt to sound sarcastic, going so far as to roll my eyes, but couldn’t help but smile back. “Thanks for this, Danny. You really are a true friend.”

  “Nothin’ like a gay redneck to be a girl’s best-friend,” Danny smirked.

  “Funny that you should say that. I was just thinking the same thing,” I replied with a giggle as he handed me a helmet and before slipping it on, glanced back at him. “Is Candy still working then?” I asked, tilting my head and feeling like a bobblehead doll as the helmet overbalanced the gesture.

  “Nope,” Danny answered, pulling his own helmet on as he spoke. It was a strangely foreign sight, and it occurred to me this was actually the norm and I’d just grown used to riding with a man who never wore a helmet. “She’s back at my place fer the time being; sleepin’ off a long night.”

  “Your place, huh? Has she tried to make a move on you?” I smirked, remembering how Candy was during her first meeting with Danny. She hadn’t been shy about showing her disappointment when Danny confessed to her, but it seemed to me that she’d seen this more as a hurdle to be vaulted
rather than a dead end to be abandoned.

  “We’ve gotten past that, I think,” Danny replied, his eyes twinkling with merriment as he glanced back at me.

  “Oh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at the tone in his voice. “And why do you think that?”

  “Because she walked in on me buried to the hilt in another guy,” he answered, kicking the motorcycle to life and letting out a laugh that rumbled along with the engine. “She wanted t’know if I’d seen her body glitter,” he went on. “Long story short:” he started us rolling and started laughing all over again, “I had!”

  Then we were both laughing together as we rode off.

  The feeling was completely different than when I had ridden with Jace, but I could still feel myself relaxing. The sensation gave me that same freedom I had felt before, though there was an undeniable difference in the machines, and I relished the sensation.

  God! I’d really, really needed this!

  Needed to stop thinking, even if only for a brief moment.

  I moved my hands to Danny’s stomach, chuckling at how much more stomach there was to hold onto, and Danny turned his head to glance back at me. “I heard that, girlie!” he had to yell to be heard over the roar of the engine. “Ol’ Mercury’s got a gut, no hidin’ it, but I ain’t had a complaint about my it yet! Just more meat to throw around, y’know?”

  “I bet,” I called back as I coughed on a laugh and held on tighter, shaking my head at that.

  I caught sight of Danny grinning as he turned back to face the road, revving the engine as he began to speed out of the hospital’s parking garage. I closed my eyes, allowing the sensation of the bike to take over. A sensation of nothingness grew and I welcomed it. Welcomed the lack of thoughts, lack of emotions, lack of…everything.

  I was, for that instant, free from my own burdens; free from my own mind.

  And, again, it was exactly what I needed.

  There was no pain; no Jace; no threat of gang war.

  There was just the air on my face; just the nothingness of flying—sweet, sweet nothingness.

  Then, not long after, I felt the bike was slowing and, with it, I felt everything start to come back at once.

  It was a jolt of awareness, and I held back the whimper that threatened to spill past my lips as everything came back to me. Taking a deep breath, I held it together—knowing I had to be strong for myself. I had to be strong for Jace.

  Like Danny said, he would wake up. I had to have faith in that thought. No matter what Depression tried to tell me.

  Moving off the bike, I looked up towards Danny’s place. It was a small ranch-style home and even with how dark it was, I was struck to see that it was painted bright pink. I blinked, glancing over at Danny.

  Before I could think it over, I heard myself say, “Don’t tell me you chose this paintjob.”

  “What? Don’t like it?” Danny grinned. “Well, too bad. Pink’s my favorite color.”

  God help me, I couldn’t help it. I fell forward across the motorcycle in laughter. Tears streamed down my eyes at just how ridiculous this was. The idea of a large, tattooed motorcycle gang member who spoke like he was from the south telling me that he deliberately made his house pink—that his favorite color was pink—was so over-the-top hilarious that I felt like I’d died and been reborn in a Saturday morning cartoon.

  “There ya go,” Danny laughed as well, patting my back. “It is kinda ugly, ain’t it?” he admitted with a sigh, shaking his head. “Something I didn’t exactly consider when I picked it.”

  I was about to say something—maybe something reassuring or maybe something playfully mean, I was still undecided—when the front door swung open, lighting up the front entrance from the light that spilled out from inside. Hearing a familiar, high-pitched squeal, I looked over in time to see Candy running towards us. I gasped as her arms wrapped around me, squeezing me tightly against her, in an embrace that was as much a hug as it was a standing tackle. With Candy’s arms around me, I finally let loose everything I had been holding back. The tears finally fell. The emotion finally came screaming out of me and Candy was there to take it. She was there to hold it all together for me.

  “There, there,” Candy whispered, shifting gears quickly from girly and excited to motherly and comforting. “Let’s get inside, shall we?”

  I nodded against her and let her lead me inside, Danny lumbering after not far behind. We moved into a brightly lit living room and sat down on a large sofa. I fell back against the softness, my eye lids beginning to grow heavy. Candy stroked my hair as Danny thumped past. The two exchanged words, but I was suddenly having a very hard time grabbing the words out of the air.

  I…

  I needed this.

  That damn waiting room; that damn chair…

  Candy kissed the top of my head and said something that made me smile, though I couldn’t for the life of me remember what it was a moment later.

  She was right. Just like Danny had been right.

  I… needed…

  ****

  I came awake to the small of eggs and bacon and coffee. Anybody who says it’s not the best way to wake up is a liar, and it doesn’t take a college education or a lick of street cred to know that fact of life.

  I sat up from the sofa, stretching out and loosing a yawn that was borderline orgasmic as I did. Floating on the euphoria that comes from good rest and glad awakenings, I followed my nose towards the source of the aroma and spotted Candy through the divide that separated the living room from the kitchen. She was standing over a stove, wearing an apron over an otherwise topless torso; a pair of loose-fitting pajama bottoms keeping her from being totally naked.

  I peeled myself from the sofa, amazed at just how much better I had felt in such a short period. I had slept long and hard and was grateful at how dreamless my sleep had been. I bit my lip as flashes of the nightmare from the waiting room came to mind and quickly shook them away. I stepped into the kitchen and saw that Danny was sitting at a small table off to the side of the kitchen, looking down at a stack of papers.

  “Mornin’, girlie,” he said, looking up from his work. “Sleep well?”

  “I did, surprisingly,” I smiled. “Thanks again for this, Dan—uh, Mercury. I obviously needed this.”

  “No duh!” Candy said, turning to half-face me from her pan of sizzling bacon. An aggressive amount of side-boob stared back, as well.

  I blinked at the jiggly display and looked back at Danny, who was already consulting his papers once again. “That doesn’t bother you?” I asked.

  He shrugged, not bothering to look up—obviously knowing to what I was referring. “Tits is tits, girlie. Even I got ‘em.”

  Candy giggled at that and gave three little hops to get her assets bouncing. A pink patch of areola peeked out on the second and third, but went back into hiding once she stopped. “Long as I’m makin’ bacon he wouldn’t care if I was fisting my—”

  “Don’t be too certain, jiggles,” Danny interrupted her, giving her a stern look. “Ya can air out the girls, sure, but don’t be thinkin’ this means a damn thing.”

  “This is because I caught him having sex with a guy,” Candy mock-whispered behind a the flat of her hand. “Two of them were covered in my body glitter. All of it. All… of… it!” she giggled at the confession and shrugged, giving her breasts another victorious shake as she returned to her cooking. “Now I get to ‘air out the girls’ all I want.”

  “Jus’ so long as ye’re ready for it when I start airin’ out mine,” Danny muttered before taking a sip from a nearby coffee mug.

  “Hope you’re hungry!” Candy said, ignoring him. “I’ve got about a pound of bacon cooking here and almost a dozen eggs!”

  “That much?” I blinked. “Do you really think we’ll be able to eat all that?”

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” Danny scoffed. “What do ya think happened to the other pound of bacon and dozen eggs?”

  I stared at him, stunned.

  Candy just
nodded that, yes, he was serious.

  I laughed and moved to sit beside Danny at the table and glanced down at the papers. I could see something about the Carrion Crew before he moved the stack away, setting it face down on the table. I looked up at him and saw that his face had gone serious and he shook his head at me.

  “What is all that?” I asked.

  “Oh, this? This here’s a big stack of you don’t need to worry about what all this is,” he replied.

  I looked over to Candy and saw that she had gone back to cooking, deliberately ignoring us as she did. I frowned, feeling that something was up, and leaned over, snatching one of the sheets of paper and looked down, freezing.

  The page appeared to be a printout from a series of one-sided text messages:

  Papa Raven is sending additional

  crew into the city.

  Eager to see a return on lost

  profits.

  Not happy about losing product.

  Enlisting support of known CC

  allies and dependents.

  Known Crow informants missing.

  Increased security measures

  suggested.

  “What is this, Danny?” I asked again.

  Danny let out a sigh that sounded more like a growl and snatched the page out of my hand. “We are taking care of it, Mia,” he said in an eerily different voice; his hands working the array of pages into a sloppy pile that crammed them blindly into the folder. “These are just notes from an informant we are working with.”

  “This didn’t end with T-Built, did it?” I bit my lip.

  Danny only stared at me.

  “Of course it wouldn’t. Shit! I’m so stupid!” I groaned.

  “Hey,” Danny said, moving his hand over mine. “This ain’t yer fault. It ain’t any of ours. It’s that damn Carrion Crew! They started all this shit years ago, and they’ve just been itching for an excuse to escalate things ever since. Now they got a reason, and that gives us a reason to up our own game. And, simply put, that means we will end it. As soon as Jace is up, I’ve got some plans to stop them once and for all.”