by Hope Stone
Pin lingered over drying the final dish. He pursed his lips as if he was trying to make a tough decision. At last, he spoke. “So have you ever ridden a bike before?”
“No,” I said. “They’re just so loud and I never knew anyone who had one.”
“Mine’s outside now,” Pin said. “Wanna ride somewhere?”
A giddy surge of excitement rose within me and I clapped my hands in excitement. “Really? Right now?”
“Sure,” Pin said. “I always have an extra helmet, and you don’t need to worry, I’m an experienced rider.”
I was practically hopping from foot to foot with anticipation. I was born a thrill-seeker, so I never said no to something that might give me a rush of adrenaline. I had tried skydiving, rock climbing, and plenty of cliff jumps. But a motorcycle was unexplored territory.
“Ok, what shoes should I wear?” I asked. “I don’t own a leather jacket, is that ok?”
“Sneakers or boots are fine,” he said, chuckling at my rapid questions. “And a leather jacket is not required. Just wear something sturdy that will protect you from the wind.”
I let out a little cry of excitement and ran to my room to get a jacket and shoes. I had abandoned my cool girl detective visage, but I couldn’t help it. He probably thought I was a total dork.
When we went outside to the bike, Pin gave me a quick rundown of all the parts. The brakes, gas, gears. I appreciated the lesson. I wouldn’t have wanted to just get plopped onto a machine without knowing how it worked.
When he was done with the explanation, Pin got on the bike and told me to hop on behind. I made sure the helmet was secure before sliding into place and wrapping my arms around Pin’s chest.
Not even my glee over the motorbike could make me unaware of how close we were, with my chest pressed against his back. It felt good, like I was about to be hurled into the unknown, but I had Pin as a life raft.
Then with a huge rattle of noise, the bike came to life. I gripped Pin even harder as he pushed the bike out onto the road. Then we were off, accelerating faster than I thought possible.
The rush hit me even harder than I had expected. As we picked up more and more speed, I felt like I had left all the pesky heavy parts of my body behind on the curb. As if my body had been reduced just to movement, so it could run as fast as my spirit.
I gripped Pin’s jacket in my fists and let out a yelp of joy. The wind yanked the noise out of my throat, and even that gave me another jolt of adrenaline.
Then I leaned my head against Pin’s upper back and closed my eyes, just letting the sensations wash over me. It was different from skydiving. The rush was more contained and controlled. It felt safer, but the feeling that you were free and alive was the same.
When I opened my eyes, I saw that we were riding along the coast, the beach stretching in front of us as far as we could see. I soaked in the view from this new vantage point.
Pin pulled into a small lot by the boardwalk and parked. I jumped off the bike and pulled the helmet from my head. My hair was probably a mess from being stuck under the big black helmet, but I didn’t care. “That was incredible!”
“You liked it?” Pin asked.
“Liked it? I loved it,” I said.
He grinned at my obvious joy. “I thought you might.”
“Seriously, I’m this close to buying one secondhand,” I said. “My parents would flip if they ever found out, but that felt too good.”
“You’re such an adrenaline junkie,” Pin said. “I can’t believe you never tried a bike before.”
I shrugged. “I just didn’t think I was a biker person.”
It was the truth plain and simple. I had never seen a group of bikers and thought, “Ah, yes, now that’s where I belong.” But one ride behind Pin had me rethinking that.
“You might need some lessons before you’re ready for your own bike,” Pin said. “I’m happy to teach you.”
I threw my arms out to show how ready I was. “When can we start?”
Pin reached out and grabbed one of my hands, seemingly on impulse. He pulled me close to him and placed a big kiss on my lips. It was a fun quick kiss. The kind of kiss you gave your significant other in public, just because you can’t help yourself.
He pulled back, and I smiled to let him know I was ok with it. He kept holding my hand as he led me towards the boardwalk.
“That’s one of my favorite rides,” Pin said. “I like to have the highway under me and the ocean to my side.”
“It was beautiful,” I said.
“And there’s a place over here that has the best ice cream,” he said.
The sun was out, and it was the perfect day for ice cream. I never would have guessed that a mint chocolate chip cone tasted best after riding several miles on the back of a bike with a helmet making you sweat. Pin and I sat on a bench and enjoyed our cones.
When I was a little girl, my parents would ask me what I wanted to do with my free time. I would wake up on a Saturday, and my mother would say, “What should we do today?” My dad would say, “You pick our activity.”
And every single time I would answer the same way: “Something we’ve never done before.”
My parents would get frustrated. They would want me to come up with specifics, but I didn’t have specific plans in mind, I just wanted something new.
“What about the park?” my dad would say. “You like the park.”
“Or we could do finger painting,” my mom would say. “You enjoyed that last time.”
They were right. I did like the park. I did like finger painting. But I had already done those things.
I don’t know why I thought of that sitting next to Pin near the beach. And once I remembered, I started to wonder when my parents had just stopped bothering to ask. Them not asking hadn’t changed anything. I still knew what I wanted.
The question tickling the back of my mind was if it might be ok to do the same thing more than once with a person who was interesting enough to make every single time feel different. Because, maybe, I did want to take another ride with Pin. And maybe I would be more than happy to take the same route and get off at the same boardwalk and go get the same ice cream. If it was with Pin.
I sighed and stared out over the waves. They were a deep blue today, and the tips sparkled and gleamed like buried treasure. That question was not going to be answered in one day.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Pin asked.
I glanced up at him through my lashes. “They’re not for sale.”
Then I reached over and grabbed his hand and just held it in mine. I would start worrying about the investigation later. I would wonder about what feelings were real and which emotions were just part of the case.
I would think about all that later.
For now, I just wanted to be a girl sitting with a guy, after a pretty amazing date.
Pin
A perfect hook-up was one thing. A perfect evening spent watching TV and chatting, while harder to come by, was still possible.
But a perfect hook-up, followed by a perfect evening, followed by a perfect morning? I was starting to wonder if Claire could be real.
After I dropped Claire back at her place, I headed home. I didn’t mess around this time. I knew I was going to want to see her again. For sex, maybe, but also just to be with her. So I texted her right away that I had a great time, and would like to do it again. Kim had been right about that. Claire wasn’t the girl you played games with.
Claire had answered she was busy with work stuff, but she could maybe do dinner the day after next. That was good. It gave me time to think over what was happening because it wasn’t casual anymore.
Things had shifted during our evening of chatting and watching TV. Or maybe they had changed while we slept, fully clothed, in each other’s arms. Or perhaps things with Claire had been different from the moment we met, and I had just been in denial.
I couldn’t push it to the side anymore and tell myself that Claire was just ano
ther girl to hook up with. I had always known she could be dangerous, but now I had to admit that I was officially in danger of falling for her hard.
The thing was, the thought of falling no longer filled me with fear and revulsion. I didn’t have terrifying images of Claire worming her way into my heart only to break it. I didn’t foresee a future of cheating and betrayal.
Instead, I saw lazy afternoons curled up with Claire on her couch. I saw us planning long bike trips. I could see us celebrating anniversaries and even moving in together. It was reckless to think that way, but I couldn’t help myself. The crazy thing was, it didn’t even bother me. I didn’t feel like I was letting myself down or being weak. I felt good. For the first time in a long time, I believed in something.
At the same time, my cold and practical side knew that this was huge. A lifetime of philosophy on love and relationships was being tossed out the window. And yes, it felt good, but that didn’t mean it was good. Or maybe it was good now, but would it be good in six months? Or a year?
Whenever my mom met a new guy, things were always good. Sure, I saw the red flags, but my mother never did. It was a chilling thought, but maybe I was in my mother’s shoes. Maybe there were red flags all over Claire, and I just couldn’t see them. I was blind.
I pictured Claire, her eyes big and gleaming as she looked at me right before we kissed. I heard the way she talked about her work, with jokes and sly phrases, but I could still tell she cared about what she did. I imagined the way her mouth quirked at the edges when she talked about all the adventures she wanted to have and places she wanted to travel.
There were no red flags in sight. Claire was smart and funny and charming. Not to mention gorgeous. I couldn’t obsess over Claire anymore. It was getting pathetic. I grabbed my phone and texted Moves:
Drinks at Blue Dog? 6?
He responded right away telling me that he would be there. That was the best thing about Moves. He never turned down a drink.
When I got there, I grabbed a beer and headed straight for a table in the corner. I knew that Moves could happily set up shop at the center table and start holding court, but I wanted a more private conversation.
Moves walked in and made a beeline for the table. Once we had settled in with our drinks, Moves looked me in the eye and raised his brows. “So? What’s going on?”
“How do you know something is going on?”
“Because you look practically giddy,” Moves said.
I rolled my eyes. However I looked, I knew it wasn’t giddy.
“Seriously, tell me,” Moves said.
“I’ve been seeing this chick,” I said.
Moves was never one for under reaction. He slammed his palm flat on the table and let out a whoop. Then he leaned back and gave a low whistle.
“You, Pin Gallegos, are actually seeing someone?” he asked. “Not hooking up, not just doing casual hang-outs with?”
I rolled my eyes. “Ok, ok I’ve been single for a while.”
“Not single,” Moves said. “Anti-love.”
“I am not anti-love,” I said. “You can’t be anti-something if it doesn’t exist.”
“Jesus,” Moves muttered.
“Ok, ok,” I said. “Can I just get back to the current issue, I could use your advice.”
Moves perked up at that. “But of course. The master is always happy to help the apprentice.”
I took a swig of beer. “I would not call you a master. But I will admit, you have more faith in relationships than I do.”
Moves nodded.
“And I guess I wanna know why?” I asked. “None of your relationships have worked out, but despite a string of failures, you’re still ready to dive into the next one?”
“Right,” Moves said. “I feel like I just got insulted.”
I shrugged and studied the table. I didn’t mean to call Moves’ past relationships failures, but he’d had five girlfriends in the last five years. Every single one, he had called his soul mate. I wanted to know how he had gone from soulmates to nothing. And I wanted to know how he got back up and kept moving after each relationship that he had wanted to last forever ended.
“Don’t know how else to ask it,” I said.
Moves pressed his mouth into a firm line and furrowed his brow. “S’alright. You may have a point.”
“I just don’t know how to trust a relationship,” I said. “I trusted one once, a long time ago. Didn’t end well.”
“Ok, but trust is so boring,” Moves said.
I gave him a quizzical look. Everyone knew that trust was the cornerstone of a healthy relationship and all that sappy stuff.
“It’s not just about trust,” Moves said. “Don’t get me wrong, trust is a big part of it, but it’s about something more. It’s more fun and exciting than that.”
“I don’t get it,” he said.
“You say you don’t have fun with this girl?” Moves asked.
“Of course I do,” I said.
“So enjoy that first,” Moves said. “You don’t have to go straight to the heavy stuff.”
“I just don’t see how I can not consider all the heavy stuff,” I said, drumming my fingers atop the table as I contemplated. “The heavy stuff is what’ll bite you in the ass eventually, right?”
“But the fun stuff and the stuff that makes you care about her in the first place.” Moves shook his head and waved his hand for emphasis. “That’s what gets you through the tough times.”
Moves leaned back and smiled, happy with his conclusion. I sighed.
Moves had a point. I was still scared as hell about everything that could go wrong with Claire. But the feeling of comfort and excitement I got when I was around her made me forget about the danger and tragedy that the future could hold.
I gave Moves a nod. I would think about his philosophy. I couldn’t make him any promises though. Moves leaned forward and clapped his hand on my shoulder. “When in doubt, just take it one step at a time.”
“One step at a time, huh?” I asked. “That’s tough for me.”
“Why?” Moves asked.
“I just keep thinking about what’s gonna happen at step 200 or 300,” I said.
Moves shrugged. “I never think ahead. Maybe I should.”
We both laughed and finished our drinks.
“Invite her to the club barbecue this week,” Moves said.
I looked up in alarm. It was no joke to invite someone to a club social event. It meant I was willing to introduce Claire to all the most important people in my life.
Then again, when I pictured walking into that barbecue with Claire at my side, a warm feeling spread through me. It would feel right, I realized, to introduce her to my brothers and their girls. I wanted to see her joke with Ryder and ask Raul about learning to ride.
She would fit right in as well. Claire wouldn’t be hesitant or shy around the bikers. They couldn’t faze her. She was undaunted by pretty much everything. In fact, she would relish meeting the guys and asking for good stories.
“Alright,” I said. “I think I will.”
“Awesome,” Moves said. “Can’t wait to meet her.”
I nearly choked on my swig of beer as I remembered. “Oh, you have.”
“What?” Moves asked. He sat straight up at this news. “When?”
I smiled and enjoyed Moves’ befuddlement. “Here actually.”
Moves’ eyes widened as it dawned on him.
“No fucking way,” he said. “The blonde chick the other night?”
“Yup,” I said.
“Ok, so I’m definitely your best man?” Moves asked.
I rolled my eyes. Inviting Claire to the Outlaw Souls barbecue was one thing; getting married was quite another.
Despite my dismissal, Moves made several more jokes. I let him go on for a while because I was feeling appreciative, but when I was done with my beer I stood up and said goodbye.
When I got back to my place, I typed out a message to Claire:
Biker
barbecue this weekend, you wanna come?
Her response came in minutes:
Yes! Perfect opportunity to find someone to teach me to ride!
I grinned at her enthusiasm and texted back:
You think I’m not good enough?
She fired back in no time:
Oh, I like to keep my options open.
For the rest of the evening, I couldn’t stop smiling.
Claire
I couldn’t believe my luck. Pin was full of information, but I couldn’t come out and ask him if he was in any way, shape, or form involved with illicit drug activity. A barbecue with all the bikers would be different. I wouldn’t even have to ask, I could just observe. I could pick up plenty of details about the other Outlaw Souls and their habits. I would gain so much more intel than could be picked up on a casual date with Pin.
Because I had to admit that we were dating now. Whatever was between us, it was not just casually hanging out with mixed intentions. There was something new and very delicate growing.
I couldn’t think about that though. I had to separate my pesky feelings from the case. And going to the barbecue was definitely the best choice for the case.
If I was really lucky, Zoe or Hector would be there. Maybe tucked into the host’s house or sitting on the edges looking nervous. I didn’t think this case was going to be that easy though. After a few days of digging through the details of Zoe and Hector’s disappearances and interviewing friends, the case was only growing murkier and murkier.
I responded to Pin’s invite as quickly as I could and then set my phone aside. It gave me a warm feeling in my stomach to text him, and it was too easy to fall into the trap of texting him back and forth for an hour. We had done that yesterday. I sighed and turned to my notes.
I wanted to have a firm grasp on everything I knew before the barbecue that weekend. Any random little fact might help. I could think of a thousand ways a biker might give away what happened to the teenagers without actually coming out and telling me.
