Kickflip

by Christina Lee

  “Well, I don’t have you figured out at all,” I said, terser than I’d intended. But it was like all my emotions these past few days were coming to a head. “In fact, the more time I spend with you, the more questions I have.”

  His face fell, and his eyes darted to the ground. “I know.”

  There was a long silence between us.

  “You frightened of me, Cory?” he mumbled.

  “No,” I said, and his shoulders unwound. “But my heart is.”

  He sank down on his bike, and before he started the motor, he said, “My heart is afraid too.”

  I closed my eyes and nodded in understanding.

  We didn’t discuss where we were going, just headed back toward the freeway and out of town. It felt good to ride next to him, the wind at my back. Liberating. Unencumbered. Whereas at one time I balked at the idea of sharing this experience with anybody because it reminded me of Damon, now I welcomed it. No matter how crazy and jumbled Jude made me feel, being in his presence also rooted me. And that was confusing. And wholly complicated.

  The last couple of years, because of too many memories, I’d also been avoiding a different kind of quiet—being on the open road centered me. You needed to remain alert in traffic, and there was always something to look at, a slideshow of scenery and people. I’d take this over fishing any day, where you had to sit or stand in one spot for hours, just waiting for something to happen.

  We rode the back streets for a long while, passing stretches of farmland and fields, before reluctantly turning back to head home.

  Truth be told, it felt amazing being with Jude. I was sharing something with him in a different way, and I got to know him better in the process. He was a bit of a daredevil on the road, similar to how he was on his skateboard. When there was no traffic in sight, he’d gun the engine down the lane, riding in the middle of the road, giving me a heart attack when I’d see a dip or a bend up ahead. Whereas I was extremely cautious since Damon’s accident, Jude took chances. I had to wonder if this was his outlet, his release, simply because he had to hold it together in public all the time.

  “A storm might be brewing,” I shouted to him at a stop sign on a deserted road. I’d spotted some dark clouds in the distance, and rolled my head back, stared at the sky.

  “Rain bothers you, true or false?” he asked, and my heart squeezed.

  I bit my lip and nodded. Then sped off ahead.

  I’d admit I was sometimes tense when I’d ridden with Damon, but for a different reason. His recklessness had been internal. Kind of like Dex’s. Neither of them knew how to hold their alcohol well. I hadn’t seen Jude under the influence even once, and I was going to guess it was because he had to remain constantly alert and in control.

  A couple of exits before our own, Jude motioned for me to pull off the freeway. I followed him into town, where he turned down a side street and pulled into an empty lot. When I sidled next to him, he pointed. “See that ramp?”

  I looked ahead and saw a concrete loop and barrier.

  “This is where the games are going to be held.”

  I spotted trucks and trailers, a Bobcat and a crane, and realized that plenty of construction had to happen in order to set up an event like this.

  “You excited to see the show?”

  At first there was a wariness in his eyes I didn’t understand. But it changed to enthusiasm as he nodded.

  “What part of you is on edge about it?”

  His forehead crinkled. “What do you mean?”

  “I can see it in your eyes. There’s something that concerns you about this event.”

  His mouth quirked up. “Guess you know me better than you say you do.”

  I shrugged. “Recently I’ve had lots of practice reading your expression.”

  “Fair enough,” he said, holding my gaze. “I kind of like that you know me, because nobody else does. Not anymore.”

  My heart hammered in my chest, and I fought to keep my emotions in check. Nothing had changed between us. He was still holding back.

  “You going to answer my question?”

  “Does rain bother you because of the accident?” he asked, turning a question back on me.

  I gritted my teeth and hesitated in responding. “Mostly, yeah. Makes me feel uneasy.”

  He stared at me a long moment and nodded. Then his gaze swung to the construction site. “They’ll probably build the stands over there.”

  At first I was confused by the change in topic, but then I finally put it together. “You’re afraid of the crowd?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “The people who might be in the crowd?”

  He moved his head up and down.

  “Because you’re supposed to be in hiding?”

  He took the longest time answering, and when he did, it was as if he was giving me the last pieces of himself. There was a noticeable shift in the energy between us. “Yes.”

  His expression was guarded again as he waited on my reaction.

  “Okay,” I said, trying to control the storm brewing inside me. “So why are you going?”

  “It’s something I’d enjoy. Alex says I have to live my life.”

  My stomach throbbed at the mention of a guy’s name. “Alex?”

  “The man you saw me with at the park.”

  “The man I figured was your parole officer?”

  “Is that what you assumed?” He looked thoughtful. “Makes sense.”

  “So he’s not?” My heart was in my throat as I waited to hear who this anonymous man was to him. How he figured into his mysterious life.

  “No. He’s a federal marshal.”

  My hands clenched my thighs as my world spun out of control. It was no longer a world I was familiar with. The scenery had changed on me in the blink of an eye.

  “Are you a fugitive?” I asked, fear spiking inside me. No, that didn’t make sense. He would’ve been locked up if that were the case.

  “I suppose I am in a way,” he said, and my eyebrows rose.

  I took loud panting breaths as I pieced it all together in my head. He was on the run from his stepfather, who had killed his mother and maybe wanted to kill him too. Or maybe Jude knew too much information about him, confessed, and had to go into hiding.

  “I know you’ve got a flipping brilliant brain and already figured it out.”

  Still, some things didn’t add up. “Why the Disciples of the Road?”

  “Alex thinks it’s the best way. They have a long-ago dispute that involved my stepfather stealing guns from another motorcycle club. Guess they have proof and want nothing more to do with him. If I stay close to the Disciples, I’m under their protection.”

  My mind was spinning like wheels on ice. When Jude told me earlier in the week his stepfather was ruthless, I wasn’t sure what that meant. Except it now fit with the rumors I’d heard about the Disciples. I felt like I was in some crazy-ass movie involving criminals, and it was now being played out in real life.

  “Why does Alex figure it’s time?”

  “It’s been six years. My stepfather either hasn’t tried to find me or hasn’t been successful. He’s got a lot of enemies and is practically in hiding himself. Alex knows skating is in my blood, figures if I wasn’t under federal protection, I’d have gone semi-pro by now. So he encouraged me to go see the show.”

  “Man, Jude, this is all so…fucked up.”

  “I understand if you want to walk away. In fact, maybe you should,” he said, sadness in his eyes. “Anything we do would have to be under the radar, and I’d always be worried about your safety.”

  “Does the club know about us?”

  “They haven’t asked, but I think they’ve got it figured out. Malachi might think we’re just fucking around and it’ll run its course.”

  “Little do they know we haven’t even gotten there yet,” I muttered, the very idea too alluring.

  Jude’s cheeks colored. “Is that something you’d think about…with me?”

&
nbsp; “Are you kidding? You’re too damned sexy for your own good.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Cory,” he groaned. “It’s hard enough staying away from you.”

  “Tell me about it.” I adjusted myself on my seat.

  We stared at each other for a minute more, desire blazing in his eyes, while I put extra pieces and parts together in my mind.

  “Did your stepfather know you prefer men?”

  He nodded. “He used it to his advantage. I’ve done some illegal things under his control. I was just a kid, but he didn’t waste any time once he married my mum and we moved into his mansion, which was more like a prison. He was a rich and powerful man…and very persuasive.”

  Fuck, his scars. I wasn’t sure I could handle hearing about any more of it. Besides, I knew deep in my gut that Jude was a good person. “I think I understand.”

  He swallowed visibly, as if relieved.

  “Who was the boyfriend you mentioned you’d been in love with?”

  “Figured all that out yourself, did you?” He smirked, but then his eyes looked haunted again. “It was rough for a good while before my mum was murdered…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The guy I thought I was in love with? His name was Mateo,” he replied, gritting his teeth. “I fell for him—or at least I thought I did—but he was just manipulating me to do more of my stepfather’s dirty work. Mostly delivering packages or being a lookout when they were meeting with other bad guys.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, my heart squeezing. Now I understood why he was afraid to kiss me. He’d paid a heavy price for wanting intimacy. “Shit, Jude. I’m not manipulating you. Our connection is real. Do you get that?”

  “I believe you. But I live in a different world, where everybody gets what they want. Even the club. I’m just a pawn. And pawns and the people around them are dispensable. Do you understand?”

  My throat closed up. “I get it now.”

  “I’m sorry you’re mixed up in all this.”

  “You’re only human, Jude. You have needs just like anybody else.”

  “I’ve tried staying away. But all I dream about is being with you. Allowing myself to have you for just one night.”

  I swallowed thickly. “Then let’s have one night.”

  He stared deeply into my eyes, and there were so many emotions there, my heart turned liquid.

  “My mum would’ve liked you,” he whispered.

  I smiled, wishing we could have met under normal circumstances. Wishing that with all my fucking might. “What was your mom’s name?”

  “Michelle.”

  I lifted the corner of my lips in a sad little smile. “Your sister?”

  “Judith. After my late grandmother’s favorite Beatles song.”

  “Hey Jude”? Holy shit.

  And then everything spliced together in my brain, like a vivid thunderclap of lightning.

  “Jude York isn’t your real name, is it?”

  He thinned his lips and closed his eyes, and that was all the confirmation I needed.

  Then he revved his engine and gunned it out of the parking lot.

  23

  I followed behind Jude’s bike, my mind reeling. Of course you had to change your name when you went into federal protection. But Jude York fit him so well, I couldn’t imagine calling him anything else.

  Before I knew it, we were back on Clifton Street. When Jude stopped at a red light near the marina, I pulled up next to him. I had plenty to think about, and I wanted him to know I appreciated the effort he made to allow me a glimpse inside. To offer me the parts of himself he’d kept hidden.

  “Do you like walleye?” he asked before I could get a word out.

  I knew they were in season, so he probably caught some earlier on the lake.

  “Only had it once or twice. Can be pricey in restaurants.”

  “I’d love to cook for you. Haven’t done that for anybody in a bloody long time.”

  My pulse galloped in my veins. “I’d like that.”

  “Give me a decent head start, then pull in and park on the side of the garage.”

  I drove straight through the light while he turned left. I could’ve gone home. I could’ve said fuck it, that I didn’t want any part of this. But I couldn’t deny the incredible draw I felt toward him. I wanted to be with him. Any way I could get him and for any amount of time.

  I considered Jude’s wish to spend one night with me. Maybe that was the only thing I could offer him. Deep down, I desperately wanted a night with him too.

  I rode around for a good while, lost in thought, before my bike found its way to Jude’s street as if it had a mind of its own.

  When I pulled in back, Jude motioned for me to park inside the garage. Now my bike was completely concealed by the automatic door, which I’d confess made me feel more secure.

  Christ.

  As he held open the screen door, his gaze darted to the owner’s house up front as if we were being watched. “Is your landlord in on it too?”

  “He watches out for me.”

  I looked behind me to their ornate back door. “He’s affiliated with the club?”

  “Used to be. C’mon inside.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said, stepping to his entryway. “What’s in it for the Disciples?”

  “It’s a favor. They’re trying to clean up old wrongs.”

  “And the federal marshal will look the other way on some things?”

  “Maybe. Look, Cory, I invited you here because I’m dying to spend time with you. But if you want to walk out this door right now, I would completely understand. The choice is yours. Always.”

  “I want to be here, Jude.” His fabricated name rolled easily off my tongue.

  He blew out a breath. “Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll get you a beer.”

  I looked around and realized that in all the weeks I’d come to know Jude, we’d never done this—hung out just for the hell of it. Not because we never had the opportunity, but because Jude was always pushing me away.

  It felt comfortable being here with him. But after all was said and done, it was sure to wreck me. Still, it would never destroy me completely. I’d already been shattered by the death of my first love, so the only thing I had to offer Jude was my patched-up heart, sewed in jagged slivers. And Jude had his own misery, his own heartache. His scars were like stitches and seams that held all that darkness inside him.

  I sat down on the same worn brown couch I lay on the last time I was here with a busted-up foot.

  “How is your back feeling?” Jude asked, handing me the beer. He looked freshly showered, and now I wished I’d stopped home to clean up again.

  “Pretty good actually. Thanks to you.”

  “My mum used to say that aches and pains are physical manifestations of inner grief.”

  “She sounds like Jessie,” I said, grinning because he’d shared even more with me. “I’m pretty sure that’s why she wants me to make an appointment at her mother’s holistic center.”

  “Perhaps there’s something to it?”

  I nodded. “Do your scars still hurt?”

  “No. I made my peace with them years ago.”

  I realized that Jude had an amazing inner strength and that the way I’d been dealing with my emotional pain was immature in comparison. Keeping late hours, pretending to be upbeat, and holding the quiet at bay did little to help heal my still-fresh wounds.

  “I’ll get dinner started,” he said, retreating from the room.

  “Do you always cook for yourself?” I raised my voice so he could hear me across the open space.

  “I certainly try,” he said over his shoulder. “My mum taught me. She’d use fresh eggs and milk from the market in the square.”

  I sighed at the sound of his idyllic life. Before it all went to shit, of course.

  I heard the oven door close, and then Jude came to sit down next to me on the couch. We sipped our beers, and though there was nervous energy between u
s, there was easiness there as well.

  “I’d ask for your real name,” I said, tipping back my bottle, “but the one you have now suits you so well.”

  “It means something to me.” He shrugged, and my pulse spiked. Jude had been through so much in the last few years that I questioned whether any of this was real.

  I stood up, hoping I didn’t appear too unsteady on my feet. “Can I use your bathroom?”

  “First door on the left.”

  I flipped on the light and locked myself inside. The first thing I noticed was that Jude was a tidy person, and that made me smile. My heart was still beating erratically as I examined myself in the mirror.

  My hair was tucked away again beneath my knit cap because I rarely traveled without it, and I supposed it’d become as much of a shield for me as Jude’s board—or maybe his silence. My pupils looked bloodshot because I hadn’t slept well these last few days. And now with Jude’s most recent revelations throwing me for a loop, I had to have a talk with myself about being here. I pictured him in this same scenario in different cities and wondered if spending time together really meant the same thing to him that it did to me.

  There was a light knock on the door. “You alright, Cory?”

  That brought me right out of my head. He’d told me this was different for him. That I was different. Deep down, I trusted that.

  “Everything’s cool. Be right out.”

  My eyes in my reflection didn’t lie as they stared straight back at me. I wanted to be here. I couldn’t not be here.

  Jude was setting the table for two when I returned from the bathroom. It was strange to see him so domesticated. I could get used to this. I immediately dismissed that thought.

  “Can I help with anything?” I asked, leaning my hip against the counter.

  “All set. Hope you don’t mind that I just made a salad to go with our walleye.”

  “Perfect,” I said, eyeing the greens in a bowl in the center of the table. “I like to eat healthy.”

  He regarded me closely as I sat down across from him. “Not surprised. You look pretty fit.”

  I felt a blush creep up my face, so I took a bite to distract myself. “This is delicious. Melts in your mouth.”