by Naomi West
Cutter had floated the other idea he had. What about recording the conversation? No, their state didn't have laws against non-consent recording between two parties, as long as one party clearly consented. He could record Wyland but, ideally, any conversation he had with the assistant DA should be had with Hunting there.
“But, come on Hunting, you know he ain't gonna say anything around you. Not about all this shit.”
“Well, no, of course he won't. But, that's my legal advice, strictly speaking. And, remember, that's what you pay me for. Even if you are calling me at home, and I'm billing you double.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Cutter had said. “I know, man. I know.”
They ended the call after that. Cutter didn't relish the idea of racking up any more time with the legal geek than he could afford. Then there'd been the conversation with Liona moments after he crawled into bed. He'd almost said it, then. Said those deadly three words that had gotten him into so much trouble all those years ago. Sitting there at the prep table now, perched on his bar stool, he regretted that he hadn't said them. It never felt like the right time.
But when was a right time, if not then? He ran a hand down his face. If he agreed to Wyland's deal, and testified against the Bolt Riders, he'd be betraying her and his MC. The MC would be saved, but Liona would be hurt. She'd have had yet another promise broken to her by a man in her life.
If his plan worked, and he could get Wyland to admit what he'd done on recording by tricking him somehow into letting slip the abuses he'd piled on Liona and the unfair harassment he'd unleashed on the Vanguard, then this would all be over. She'd be free. Free to pursue the life that had been interrupted by a series of poor choices, free to go back to school, to do charity work. Would she stay with him, then? A skeezy biker that only fucked club girls and talked more with his fists than his words, who lived on the edge of legitimacy?
Or was he only offering her security, a sense of protection from Wyland? Was he just the port in the midst of this vengeful storm? Cutter shook his head. He didn't know. He wasn't a mind reader.
The only thing he did know was that in about nine hours, he was going to have a meeting with fate. Another meeting with Wyland, completely unscripted and unsupervised, where Cutter had to trick him into spilling his deepest, darkest secrets in an effort to create incriminating evidence. Either that or he’d end up agreeing to testify against a rival gang. He gripped his coffee mug so tight he almost shattered the ceramic in his hands. This was a fool's quest. Something for a bad Steven Segal film. What happened out at that park would determine how the rest of their lives would turn out, for good or ill.
With that thought in mind, he rose from his bar stool and went back to doing what he'd intended to do when he came into the kitchen. He began preparing his picnic lunch that he wanted to have with Liona, putting everything in order so he could surprise her. He wanted to make sure that what little time he might have left with her was memorable.
Maybe, when she looked back on this afternoon after everything had come to its final end, she'd be able to smile as she thought about him. Not as an afterthought, but as one of the bright spots in the dark days she'd had to endure during her life with Wyland West.
# # #
Once she'd gotten up and moving, Liona was more than happy to hop on the back of his bike and go for a ride through the nearby woods. Normally, he'd go for these late morning rides on his own, and use them as a time to clear his head. This time, though, he'd packed up everything he'd prepared earlier, in the hopes of surprising her. The morning was beautiful. The sun was warm, but if you caught a little bit of shade you could feel the cool air as it brushed over your skin. It was a perfect day for a ride, and they took their time finding their way down the various winding back roads of the countryside.
Liona clung to his back, her slender arms around his bulkier frame. He found himself sighing, relaxing from the all the stress of the week, despite the fact that he was meant to meet Wyland West later that day. He knew that, one way or another, everything would come down to that meeting. Strangely, though, he felt a sort of calm, a sense of peace about himself. This appointment was inevitable, unavoidable. Struggling against it, and being anxious about the whole thing wouldn't do him any good.
After about an hour or so on the bike, with both of them just taking in the scenery, Cutter pulled over on the side of the road near a break in the trees. A cacophony of vivid greens erupted around them, and the sense of fresh, new life filled the air. Cutter could feel it deep down in his lungs, and deeper still into the core of his being.
“Why are we stopping?” Liona asked.
He killed the engine and put up the kickstand. “Wanna show you something, that's all.” They climbed down off the bike together and set to grabbing all the stuff for their picnic from his saddlebags.
“What's this?” she asked in a surprised tone as he piled up fruit, sandwiches, and cheeses in her arms.
He pulled the blanket from his bad and draped it over the seat while he closed his saddlebag back up. “It's a picnic,” he said. “What does it look like?”
“A picnic?” she asked, her eyes flashing with excitement. “I can't even remember the last time I had a picnic!”
He grinned as he grabbed most of the food from her. “Well, I've never had much reason for 'em. But, well, you weren't around.”
She smiled up at him. “Is this why you woke up so early?”
He laughed and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “No, I normally get up that early. But, yeah, it's when I put everything together. Now, come on.” His arms full, he headed out to a small path through the nearby trees. A small wire fence lay trampled into the edge of the forest floor here, marking it as someone's property. In all the time Cutter had been coming out this way, he'd never encountered another human being.
He'd found this spot a few years before when he was out tramping through the forest by himself, he explained as they followed a faint deer trail through the trees and underbrush. He'd never brought anyone else out this way. Not any of the guys, and definitely not any of the club girls.
“So, this is sort of your Fortress of Solitude, then?” she asked.
He laughed. “I wouldn't exactly compare me to Superman, or anything. But, yeah, I guess I use it as a way to get away from the clubhouse, from the restaurant. Take a long ride, chill out here with a book. I like it.”
“Well,” Liona said as she squeezed his hand, “I don't think you're much of a Clark Kent, that's for sure.”
They followed the path as it rose up through the trees on a shallow incline, twisting back and forth as it led them up a small hill. The trees here were old, and the whole place smelled of musty damp. Around them, the trees were nearly silent except for the occasional bird call.
“Ever see any animals out here?”
“Rabbits mostly,” he said. “I don't normally come out here at the right time for deer, but I can see their signs.”
She laughed, her voice musical and lilting. “You can track wild animals now?”
He laughed and shook his head as he offered her a hand to climb over a fallen log. “My dad taught me how to read them, a little at least. Needed to be able to see where they fed if you wanted to come back and shoot them.” She frowned a little. “Ain't like we shot Bambi or anything,” he said, grinning, as he reached up and grabbed her arm.
“That's not funny.” She stuck her tongue out at him “I loved that movie when I was kid.”
“Oh, I'm just messing with you,” he said, squeezing her upper arm.
They turned back and kept following the path, heading up to the top of the hill. The trees thinned as they went higher, with less and less trees being able to root themselves in the increasingly steep soil. Their twisted roots threaded throughout the top soil, and the two of them had to watch their step as they made their way up.
Eventually, they crested the top and broke through the trees. Liona gasped a little as she took in the sight. The hill spread out around them,
with its one lone oak rooted in the near center, and soft, knee high grass that spread out over the top like a lush carpet. The scenery, though, was what Cutter loved about this place.
It was easy to forget that their hometown sat in a valley, practically surrounded on all sides by hills. The small town spread out before them. Everything from the church downtown, with its towering steeple, to the old high school they'd spent so much time together in, which was now closed and set to be soon torn down. If you knew where to look, like Cutter did, you could even see Farm to Fable, just off Main Street.
“It's so beautiful from up here,” Liona said, her hand covering her mouth.
Up here, everything seemed so distant, like all your problems were miles and miles away. It was a picture perfect, scenic spot. He could spend hours up here, just sitting below the big oak, breathing in nature.
“You like it, then?” he asked as he headed over to the oak tree and set everything down against the trunk.
“God, it's just so wonderful,” she said, following after him.
He grabbed the blanket and began to unfold it, then unfurled it and laid it flat on the tall grass. Immediately, it began to settle and lay flat.
“Oh, Cutter,” she said, coming over and putting her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?” he asked. “For the picnic?”
“For everything. This all started off as the worst day of my life, and now I think it's turned into one of the best weeks.”
He tilted her chin up, bringing her eyes up to his. “Despite everything,” he said, “it's been a pretty damn good week for me, too.”
They pressed their lips together and kissed, and anyone who saw them would have identified them as young lovers immediately. The way that two lost people can kiss as they cling together, desperately trying to find something bigger than themselves. Their lips parted from one another, and they smiled at each other.
Liona's stomach grumbled. “So, you packed lunch for us?” she asked, and they both laughed.
“Yeah, have a seat,” he said, releasing her and bending down to the array of sealed plastic bags and containers. “It's been a while since I had to pack a picnic, so I wasn't exactly sure what to bring,” he explained as began to hand her food.
“It looks wonderful,” she said as she began to unwrap sandwiches and open containers of potato salad. “I'm sure it'll be perfect.”
With the food distributed, Cutter sat down next to her and they began to eat. In between bites, they talked about their childhood and reminisced about high school. The teachers they'd liked, the ones they couldn't stand. Their conversation absent was any discussion of Wyland West, or the events of that afternoon beneath the bleachers.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this content. Before Liona had come back into his life, he'd just gone from work to the clubhouse. Sure, they'd throw the weekly party, and he'd have someone to warm his bed, but even that felt hollow. Like he was just living a part, one of the big biker dudes that would fuck the girl then toss her out the next morning. Here, up on this hilltop with the world spread out below him, he felt alive. And, even though he had a date with destiny in just a few short hours, he felt wonderful. Besides, what more could he ask for of a spring day? He'd had his coffee, gotten a bike ride in, and now he was sharing a meal with a beautiful woman as they surveyed the town below. What more could a rough and tumble biker ask for?
Finished eating, Liona relaxed back into Cutter's arms, leaning her whole body against his. He circled himself around her as they both basked in the sun.
“What do you really want out of life?” Liona asked after a few moments of silence had passed.
He shrugged. “Well,” he started, “I got most of what I want already. Not much more I could ask for.”
“You're happy, then?”
“Right now?” he asked as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Yeah, I'd say so. What about you?”
She considered her words. “I don't really know,” she said finally. “I enjoyed yesterday.”
“The balls to the wall, insanely crazy, this-is-fucking-awful lunch rush?”
She nodded and laughed. “Yeah, that. It was intense. Not exactly fun, or anything, but I at least felt accomplished at the end of the shift.”
He laughed. “Well, maybe when this is all over and done with, we'll see what we can do about getting you on board.”
She grinned. “I think I'd like that. It'd be a nice change of pace, I suppose.”
“Here,” he said as he shifted her around a little and pulled her into his lap.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he swept her hair away from her neck.
“Nothing,” he said. “Just getting comfortable.” He leaned down and kissed her neck, took a deep sighing breath.
“Oh,” she moaned a little at the touch of his lips. Her round little behind, now situated in his lap, wiggled a little as she readjusted to the new seating arrangement.
“Like that?” he asked, chuckling a little.
“Maybe,” she said, coyly. “We probably shouldn't, though.”
“Shouldn't what?” he asked and kissed and kissed her neck again, this time higher, closer to her ear.
“This,” she said. But, he could hear her smiling through her words.
His hands began to roam, seemingly of their own accord. The day had been warm, so she hadn't worn much more than a light top and tight jeans. He slipped his hand beneath her shirt, ran his palm across her flat midriff. He kissed her neck again, this time more wetly. “This?” he asked.
“Cutter,” she said, a note of warning in her voice, even as she tilted her head to the side to give him better access. She moaned a little louder than before as his hand rode a little higher beneath her shirt and brushed across her upper stomach. He could feel himself getting excited from all the warmth, and the wiggling, in his lap. Slowly, he was growing in size and beginning to press against her firm backside.
“We really, really shouldn't,” she said again. “And you shouldn't be doing that either.”
“This?” he asked as he reached higher beneath her shirt, making it ride up higher around her stomach, and cupped her breast. “Or this?” He ground himself into her backside and kissed her neck again, his tongue trailing over her hot skin.
“Both,” she moaned, wiggling herself into his crotch and pressing herself into his hand.
“Guess I'll just stop, then,” he said playfully.
“Don't you dare,” she replied, her hand reaching down and grabbing the one he'd snuck beneath her top. She held it in place, making sure he couldn't retreat.
“So many confusing signals,” he chided as his other hand slipped down between her legs and began to rub her mid inner thigh. “A guy just doesn't know what to think anymore.”
“Just shut up and keep kissing my neck,” she said, moaning again as he slipped a big hand inside her bra and moved the other higher up her thigh. She reached up behind her and wrapped a hand around behind his head. Her fingers stroked his face, entangled themselves in his hair.
He tweaked her nipple, twisted it lightly between his fingers as she pressed herself into his hand. She pushed herself back into his crotch, grinding herself on his manhood. He'd grown to full size now. “That for me?” she whispered.
“All for you, babe,” he growled back, pinching her nipple again as he said it. “Here,” he said, gesturing for her to get up.
They both stood and, quick as lightning, their hands flew to each other. They began to pull off the other's clothes, stripping their bodies bare for all of nature to see. She looked just as beautiful in the warm sunlight, her skin creamy and perfect beneath its rays. Their clothes surrounded them in a scattered, haphazard circle, like a makeshift shrine to the two lovers. His hands ran over her smooth, firm body, kneading her flesh one moment, scratching with blunt nails the next as they kissed in the sunlight. His tongue slipped into her mouth, playfully flicking hers, as she worked her hand between them and foun
d his cock pressed against her belly.
She wrapped her slender fingers around his shaft and began to stroke, her thumb dipping into his pre-cum and swirling it around the head. Her grip felt amazing. So firm, yet so soft. After so few times together, it was like she knew every inch of his body now. He groaned into her mouth and tightened his grip on her as he bit her lower lip.
She moaned and began to work her hand faster up and down his shaft. He broke away from the kiss. “Not yet,” he said, panting with desire.
She grinned a little and released him. Her hand dipped lower and cupped his heavy balls, squeezed him gently. “That better?”
He groaned. “Know what would be even better?” he asked.
On cue, she began to slide down his body, her erect nipples brushing down his front. Her lips left a trail of kisses on his abs, all the way down the V they made at the bottom of his belly. Her breath was hot, bathing his cock in its warmth. He ran a hand through her hair, brushing the bangs from her eyes so he could watch as she slowly, deliberately began to slide her lips over him.
