by Karen Renee
I looked around and asked, “Where’s Cal?”
Natasha grinned. “Good afternoon to you, too, chica. Lover boy has gone to check on his other woman.” I must have made one hell of a face because she quickly added, “You know, his Harley-Davidson bike. Then you two are headed out.”
I gave Natasha a sympathetic but concerned look. I asked, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay, on your own?”
Natasha looked at me as if I were especially stupid. “Honey, you don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine. Worst case scenario, I’m gonna take a nap while you two go gallivant about town. Believe me, I can take care of myself. Love you and I’m grateful for your concern, but it’s not needed. Go. Have a grand time with that fine-ass man on his gorgeous Harley. I’d say I’m jealous, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. Though, I suppose I am just a little bit jealie. As long as you share the pertinent details with me, it’ll all be good. ‘Kay?”
Within five minutes, Cal had his bike ready to roll and handed me a helmet. He was wearing his Bike Week shirt again, with his Riot MC cut and his jeans. I swung a leg over, and heard Natasha whoop her approval us on the bike. I shook my head at her. Then Cal moved us out of the Cacklebery campgrounds, and onto the main drag leading to the famous Daytona Loop.
Even though I was a Florida native, I had never taken the time to drive down the scenic highway that was formally named the ‘Ormond Scenic Loop and Trail’ but had been commonly dubbed ‘The Loop’. As a Florida girl who didn’t live directly on the beach, my go-to move was to get straight to the beach, park the car, and immediately plant my toes in the sand. I was quickly seeing the error of my ways. Once we crossed over the Intercoastal Waterway and onto A1A, I was spellbound by the beautiful moss-covered oak trees forming a shady canopy over the winding roadway. It was a fabulous way to spend the afternoon, clinging to Cal’s back as his Harley rumbled beneath us and the scent of the salty air came off the ocean only to drift into my nose. This thought was fleeting through my mind when Cal slowed the bike, and we turned left into a community park. I noticed a cluster of other bikes there, and then I saw Jackie waving to us, from under a picnic pavilion.
I swung off the bike, and took the helmet off, hoping I didn’t have helmet hair. I set the helmet on the seat of the bike, and then I gave Cal a questioning look.
“Surely, we’re not going to eat again, are we?”
Cal chuckled. “I’m a man. I could eat almost all the time, but no. We’re not here to eat. Patch, his old lady Cathy, Blood and Abby were here already. Volt and Jackie decided to join them. I think they’re all hittin’ the beach. I just thought this would be a good spot to stop off, take a break. Twenty-two miles isn’t exactly for a novice rider, woman.”
Cal hooked me low around my waist, and we ambled up to the pavilion. Jackie rushed up to us and gave me a hug, even though I had seen her not an hour ago. I chuckled and hugged her back. Abby was right behind her, and she also gave me a hug. Both women were wearing cut-off jeans with string bikini tops. Abby’s was a deep emerald green which accentuated her red hair. Jackie’s top was cherry red. I was feeling very over-dressed in my sunfloweryellow thermal long-sleeve and jeans. Volt gave Cal and me a grin and a chin lift. Blood came our way and gave Cal a fist bump. I tried to extend my fist for a bump because Blood was shirtless. He looked at me slyly and gave me a full on bear-hug that took me off my feet.
He laughed while putting me back on my feet, and then he said, “Gotta loosen you up, Mallory. I promise, none of us bite.”
I chuckled. “Not even Vamp? I mean, how else would he have a road name that references a vampire?”
Volt, Cal and Blood shook their heads at me. Patch and his old lady were wandering our way, and Patch said, “Cal, you gotta educate your woman about us. You bring her to the Mecca and she’s makin’ assumptions about our road names.”
A woman with a gray-haired bob was standing next to him. She was wearing a halter style, low-cut black swimsuit that was edged with a taupe stripe. She held her hand out to me for a handshake.
When I took her hand she said, “Hi. I’m Cathy, Patch’s old lady.”
I smiled at her, and said, “I’m Mallory. My mom’s name is Kathy with a K, so it shouldn’t be too hard to remember your name.”
She nodded, but said, “Well, I’m Cathy with a C, for what it’s worth. Nice to meet you, Mallory. Good to put a face to the name I’ve heard so much about from the guys.”
Patch nudged her with his shoulder and said, “Woman, don’t you give away our secrets. It was all good things, Mallory.”
I gave a half-shrug, and said, “That’s fine, Patch. But seriously, with wild names like Vamp, Volt, Blood, and Patch, there must be some really good stories there.” I tilted my head thinking about what I just said, and then added, “Though, maybe I’m wrong. I’ve already been told that Roll is not called that for rolling good joints or anything like that. It’s just because he’s a Bama fan.”
Cathy hooted with laughter. “Now, that’s funny. Cal, tell me you told Roll about her thoughts on his road name. But you’re right, there are some pretty good stories behind the road names. I’m the reason Patch is known by that name.”
Her sly look at both me and Patch told me this story would be juicy. When the silence stretched on longer, I groaned.
“C’mon! Don’t leave me hanging like this. Seriously. Natasha and I have tons of crazy theories about why the names are what they are.”
Jackie giggled, and Volt gave her a furrowed eyebrow, but Cathy decided to have some mercy on me.
“Well, I’m not as young as you girls, but back in the eighties, when Patch was a prospect, he worked at a mechanic’s shop. I was stuck on the side of Highway 17 with a flat tire, and he stopped to help me out. My spare tire was flatter than my other tire, so he insisted that he’d give me a ride home. I wouldn’t hear of it. I didn’t know him, and I hadn’t been on a motorcycle before. I was short on money, and there was no way I could afford a tow truck. He told me he had a buddy who could tow it to his shop. He’d patch my tire, and fill up my spare.
“After work the next day, I got a girlfriend at work to take me to Patch’s shop so I could get my car. It was after five-thirty, and Patch was gone, but they gave me my keys and said there was no charge. I did not trust that at all. Patching a tire and the time that takes, I knew it had to cost something. When I went out to my car, though, I had two new tires on my Cougar. I went back into the shop, and said there was a mistake. ‘No, ma’am, no mistake,’ the guy told me. Then I said, ‘Well, fine, how about you tell me where I can find the mechanic who fixed me up. I’d like to thank him, maybe give him some brownies’, or some bullshit I made up. He told me to check the RoadWay bar on Blanding.”
Patch draped his arm around Cathy’s shoulders and said, “She came in there like a storm of fire. I was still a prospect, but I was hanging with the brothers. They all got one good look at her, and I suddenly hated every one of them for ogling her. She found me seated at the bar, and she stepped up to me and started poking me with her fingers.”
Cathy chuckled, and said, “I almost forgot about poking you so much. I said to him, ‘What part of ‘Patch’ do you not understand?’ Then I went into a full-on rant about how two new tires are not a damn patch and I didn’t have the money for it. When I finally paused, he said he had a patch for me, and he planted his lips on mine. It was the most toe-curling kiss I ever had. Not that I told him that at the time, mind you.”
Portions of this were sounding all too familiar to me. I looked at Cal, but I realized that he’d have been far too young to have been around to witness Patch and Cathy’s small drama. Patch must have caught on to why I was looking at Cal.
Patch said, “Cal wasn’t around then, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t hear plenty about how I got my road name. The very next day, I was made a full member and given my cut. They dubbed me Patch for my road name because there was no way you would forget this spitfire coming in and giving anybody the
what-for. The president back then especially liked how I told her I had a patch for her and planted one on her. He thought it took balls. Little did he know, I had been keeping myself from kissing her from the moment I looked at her baby blues on the side of Highway 17.”
I smiled and then said, “That’s a great story.”
Blood twisted the top off a bottle of beer and said, “Well, not all of them are great stories, Mallory. I was working as a phlebotomist before I got my patch. Subsequently, I got dubbed Blood. Talk about boring.”
I could sense that Blood was trying to get me to let it go about the names. So, I figured it was best to do that. Volt pulled Cal and Blood away to talk club business. Jackie and Abby shrugged and asked if I wanted to go walk the beach with them. I declined since I wasn’t sure how long our little pit stop would be. Cathy left the pavilion area to go grab something from the saddlebags on Patch’s bike.
Patch offered me a bottle of beer from his cooler under the picnic table. I took it and twisted off the cap. I sat down on the bench of the picnic table opposite from him. He stroked his salt-and-pepper beard, and said, “I hear you’re having problems with Melissa. Know Jackie’s told you about her, but I’m glad to hear you didn’t wade in with her today at the Pig Stand. Smart move on your part.”
I pursed my lips to the side a touch, and then said, “I didn’t really have time to wade in or make a smart move by any means. Before I knew it, Cal was there and that was that.”
Cathy had returned and she had a bag of chocolate chip cookies with her. She pried open the cellophane top and offered the tray to me. I took a cookie, and she said, “And that’s how it’s supposed to be, darlin’. Somebody gives you shit, Cal handles it.”
I shook my head as I tried to chew up my cookie at double speed. Once I swallowed, I said, “But, sometimes I should handle my own shit. I mean, I’m used to handling my own problems.”
Cathy shook her head. “Not any more, you don’t. If you’re serious about Cal, and I saw the way you looked at him. You are serious about him. So, you let him handle the shit. It’s how it works in this world, and make no mistake. You’ve taken up with a biker. You’re in his world now, whether you know it or not. Whether you like it or not.”
I must have looked like a deer in the headlights, because Patch said, “Riot MC, hell, practically all motorcycle clubs are a family thing. My Riot brothers are my brothers because we have all learned to love each other through thick and thin. I know their strengths and weaknesses and love them even when we might be fighting.”
Cathy nodded her head fiercely. “He don't have any trouble telling one of his Riot brothers ‘I love you,’ but you will never hear him say those words to his actual blood brothers. All he shares with them is some damn DNA, blood, and plasma, according to Patch. Believe me, I’ve heard him say that many a time before.”
Patch took a long pull on his beer. “Brotherhood comes from tons of moments that run the gamut from life-or-death situations, to sitting on the side of the road at midnight broken down in the middle of nowhere, all the way to watching our kids grow up. Lots of joy and lots of tears make up the Riot MC brotherhood. You and Cal have something that works long-term, then like it or not, your happy ass just got a huge-ass family too.”
I could only imagine how awful my facial expression must have been. I wanted to smile, but I was about to burst into tears at the mention of getting a huge-ass family. The threatening tears meant that I was fighting a frown while also trying to smile. I didn’t know what to do, and the tears slipped over the edge of my lower eyelids. Cathy sat down next to me and folded me into a hug. She smelled like suntan lotion and Estee Lauder’s White Linen perfume.
She chuckled and said, “Don’t tell me that my man talking about the joys of the MC life made you go and cry! What’s wrong, lady? You were so happy just a moment ago.”
I pulled back from her embrace and said sheepishly, “I might be just a wee bit PMS-ing. But, I’m also an only child, so the idea of a big-ass family is like a little slice of heaven. And at the risk of over-sharing, I’m also a widow who lost her only son. So, again, the notion of gaining a family is music to my ears. I just didn’t realize it until Patch said it.”
Cathy looked at me and grinned devilishly. “Shit on a biscuit! PMS-ing during Bike Week and you had a run-in with Melissa. It’s a damn miracle Cal got in there with her before you did. You need something more than beer, dear.”
Cathy giggled at her unintended rhyme, but before she could offer me a different drink, Cal walked up. He took in my tear-stained face and then looked at Cathy.
Blood, on the other hand, did not weigh his words before he spoke. “What the fuck are you two doin’ to our Mallory?”
I swiped at my face, took a deep breath and then said, “They didn’t do anything. Not that you need to know this, but it’s that time of the month. I’m a little PMS-ey, okay?”
Blood put his hands up as if I was a cop and he said, “Okay. Say no more, chick. I’m hittin’ the beach to find my woman. Catch ya later, Mallory. We’re all goin’ to the Cabbage Patch tonight. Gonna be a good time.”
Blood winked at me, and after an almost-sinister chuckle he added, “A really good time.”
* * * * *
Cal and I went back to his bike. I picked up the helmet to put it on my head, but I stopped. Cal was standing on the opposite side of the bike and he noticed my hesitation.
“What’s the problem, babe?”
I shrugged.
Cal gave me a look, and then said, “Don’t lie to me. What’s the issue, woman?”
I sighed. “Hearing Patch and Cathy’s story made me think about some things. I found out at the pool hall, that you’re Callous, and only because the Leathernecks mentioned it. Whenever I call you that, you say, just Cal. I asked you why you’re called that, but you said later. It’s later. What’s the story on why your road name is based on either a blister or the jerk-like way of treating someone?”
Cal sighed and then said, “I was young when I got my patch. Younger than any of the others. After so much time in the foster system, I rarely treated anyone well. I sure as hell didn’t treat the women hanging around the club very well. I became known for being extremely harsh and insensitive to them. Extremely insensitive. That carried over into social settings at various other biker bars and shit. When my Riot brothers finally gave me my patch, I was so well known for not giving a fuck what anyone, man or woman, thought or felt, I became Callous. Thing is, about a decade later when I got close to thirty, I stopped being that way. I got with it. My brothers had everything to do with that, and I started telling people to call me Cal. I was Sergeant-at-Arms, so anyone who wouldn’t call me Cal, I got to take care of them. Which means, I made them do it in the end. I don’t want you calling me Callous because I don’t want to be insensitive to you. That clear it up for you, sweet cheeks?”
I shrugged, but said, “Sure. None of that seems like a big deal. Why not just tell me that from the get-go?”
Cal released a cross between a chuckle and a snort, but he said, “Because, it’s not who I am any more. I don’t willingly go by that name. Hence, the Leatherneck assholes calling me that to get at me. Didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to give you the wrong impression, but now I can see where I should have told you about it. We straight, now?”
I nodded.
Cal gave me a chin lift and said, “Then, let’s ride.”
I snapped the helmet strap below my chin, and mounted the bike behind Cal. I scooted my groin closer to Cal’s backside, and latched my arms around his waist. He pressed his back into my torso slightly and gave me a wink over his shoulder. He started the bike and we resumed our ride of the Loop. The spring day was clear and bright. The ride was exhilarating, both because of the great weather conditions, and the warm solid bulk of Cal in front of me. I never thought I could find bliss with wind roaring in my ears and my hair whipping violently around my face, but here I was, doing just that. When the roadside went fr
om wooded beach scrub landscape to more suburban beach residential and retail buildings, I knew the bliss would end soon.
We pulled into the campgrounds, and I was already thinking of ways to get Cal to take me on the Loop again. I felt like I had ridden a great ride at Disney, and now that it was done, I immediately wanted to go again and again. When he parked the bike in front of the RV, the awning on the side of the vehicle was fully extended. Once the motorcycle engine was cut, I heard loud pop music coming from the stereo system stowed in the side-out compartment of the RV. The unique sound of Bruno Mars singing “That’s What I Like,” could be heard and Natasha was dancing under the awning while holding a red plastic cup.
I removed my helmet quickly and put it on the seat of Cal’s bike. I slunk into Natasha’s dance area under the awning, and started gyrating and dancing with the rhythm next to her. Natasha gave me her wide smile and we both danced with abandon. I had a sense that Cal was on the edge of the awning area watching us, but I saw movement in my peripheral vision and the song abruptly changed. I turned and saw Vamp kneeling at the side-out and he was placing Natasha’s I-pod to the side of the stereo equipment. The new song had started almost mid-way through, and it was No Doubt’s “Hella Good.” Natasha shot Vamp a look, but he danced his way in between Natasha and me.
In my mind there is nothing sexier than a man who not only can dance, but is willing to do so, but finding Vamp dancing in between me and my best friend was a little startling. For a pierced, bald, tattooed, blue-eyed, hard-core biker, Vamp’s dance moves indicated that he had some serious soul in him. His steely blue-eyed gaze was set on me as he shook his hips in time with the music, but then I saw his right arm shoot behind him and he pulled Natasha toward his backside. Seconds after that, I felt a firm forearm pull me backwards from Vamp and I looked up to see Cal glaring at him.
