“That’s all you’re taking?” she asked in surprise. Her clothes fit in two plastic grocery sacks… but that was all she had.
“No room for more,” he said as he carried his clothes into the kitchen where he pulled two bags from the supply under the sink and stuffed his clothes into them.
“We’re not taking the car?”
“I can’t leave my grandfather's bike.”
“But…”
“I’m not leaving it, Tina!” he snapped as he pulled his gun off the top of the refrigerator, along with a box of ammunition, and tossed both items into one of the bags.
“I understand! But think about this!” she pleaded.
“You can drive it if you want, but I’m taking the ‘39,” he said, his tone making it clear this discussion was closed.
Tina fumed. The Audi was clearly the better choice, but if she was in the car and he was on the bike, they could more easily get separated. “Fine, dammit! I’ll take the other bike.”
“Shit… the banks aren’t even open yet!” Jack snarled as he shrugged into his Desert Sons jacket.
“What?”
“We need cash. We can’t use a credit card or they can track us. We’re going to have to go to ground for a couple of hours before I can get some cash.”
“Can’t you use the ATM?” she asked as they hustled out into the warehouse and mounted up.
“I could. But about six-hundred dollars is all I can take out with the ATM card. We’re going to need a lot more than that. We can start with that, just in case they are on to us before the banks open.”
“Oh…” she said as she stored her clothes and put on her helmet. “Do you need to call Seth or Marshall and tell them what has happened?”
“No. We don’t have time to do it right now and I’m leaving my cell here. Once again, they will be able to track us if we use it.”
“How will…” she began.
“You’re going to have to help me with that,” he said as he kicked at the bike, trying to bring it to life.
***
They had stopped at the nearest branch of Jack’s bank and drew out the maximum amount possible from the ATM, five-hundred dollars. They had breakfast while waiting for the banks to open then returned to the branch and waited for them to unlock the doors.
She was amazed at how cool Jack was as he flirted with the tellers while he went about the business of drawing out five grand in cash. She would be—she was—a nervous wreck, but you would never know that Jack was on the run from the way he handled himself.
Two hours later, and money in hand, they were finally ready to hit the road. They only had to stop and top off the bikes.
“Where are we going?” Tina asked as they dismounted.
“I don’t know. Would your mom put you up for a few days?”
Tina snickered. “She would probably turn me in for the reward if she knew about it. What about your family?”
“Back east,” Jack said.
“Back east?”
“Yeah. I’m originally from Maine.”
“Maine?” she exclaimed. “You don’t sound like you’re from Maine.”
“Yeah,” Jack said as he turned on his accent. “Marshall and I moved here right out of high school. I hated the cold.”
“Okay… now you sound like you’re from Maine. So we can’t go to my Mom’s house, and your parents are too far away. So where are we going?”
“I don’t know. Let me think a moment,” he said as he turned and walked into the station to prepay. “How about Roswell?” he asked when he returned. “Lots of strangers in town, so two more won’t look out of place.”
She bobbed her head in silent agreement as the gas gurgled into the bikes. “Good idea. Believe it or not, I’ve lived here my entire life and I’ve never been there.”
“I have, once, not long after I moved here. Strange place.”
“So we should fit right in,” she quipped.
He snorted as he gently tapped the gas nozzle against the Knucklehead to prevent it from dripping on the paint.
“Yeah. Especially you.” He saw her stick her tongue out at him from the corner of his eye, but didn’t do anything other than smile.
After hanging up the nozzle he returned to the store for his change while she sat astride her bike. When they fled Jack’s apartment that morning she was convinced they were going to get caught. But now, more than two hours later, she thought they were going to get away. To where, and for how long, she didn’t know. But so long as Jack was with her, she somehow knew everything was going to be okay.
***
They ride East on I-40 until they reach highway 285. As the hogs rumble south through the desert, Tina felt free. She loved the desert southwest and the open desolation calmed on her. The Albuquerque police had undoubtedly opened the storage facilities and found the cars by now, but out here, where there was nothing for miles and miles in every direction, she found it hard to worry about something that happened eighty, ninety, and then a hundred miles behind her.
Jack pulled into a small mom-and-pop filling station, the only one they had seen for dozens of miles. “You want something to drink? I’m parched,” he said as he started pumping. Out here you could still pump your gas, then pay for it.
“I’ll just have a drink of yours, if that is okay.”
He nodded and smiled. He had swapped enough spit with her by now to not worry about a little on a pop bottle. “That’s fine. Fill both bikes and I will just wait inside to pay.”
She carefully filled the bikes and took extra care to not to drip, especially on Jack’s bike, before she hung up the nozzle. Moments later he appeared with a slightly green bottle in his hand.
“Squirt?” she asked as she read the bottle.
“Ever had one?”
“I’ve never even heard of it.”
He chuckled as he opened the bottle before he handed it over. “You are in for a treat then.”
She took a big hit off the bottle then handed it back as her face wrinkled up. “Oh, by god, that’s tart!” she cried as she tried to scrape the sudden fuzzy feeling off her tongue and onto her teeth.
Jack snickered. “Best desert drink in the world.”
“Give me a beer,” she said, still smacking her lips.
“With a beer, ten minutes after you drink it, you’re thirsty again. Not with this,” he said before taking a big swig. “Ahhh… refreshing!”
She watched him and giggled. She took the bottle from his hand and had another drink. She could tell she still made a face, but it was a thirst quencher. “Okay… it’s growing on me,” she said as she handed it back.
They passed the bottle back and forth another couple of times, and by the time Jack tossed it into the trash, Tina had to admit she was feeling refreshed and no longer dehydrated. They mounted up and she thumbed her bike to life, but Jack had to kick his several extra times before it started and remained running.
‘What’s wrong with it?” she asked as she eased up beside him.
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Just seems to be running a little rough. Maybe it’s bad gas.” As they pulled out of the station the Knucklehead shuddered and coughed a couple of times, but then seemed to smooth out once they were back out on the road, so he forgot about it. This is what happens when you buy gas in a place that hardly sells any… but when you need gas, you need gas, he thought. He would put some good gas in the old girl when he got to Roswell, and then it would be fine.
***
They rolled into Roswell just before noon. When they filled their bikes again, the Knucklehead became cranky. Since the bike was only temperamental at low speeds and idle, Jack decided the problem was with the carburetor—an easy fix once they found a place to settle in for the night.
They stopped at a local place with a western flair that seemed clean and checked in as Mr. & Mrs. Thomas Harris—the name a combination of Jack’s middle name with Tina’s last—from Lubbock, Texas. Tina had a hard time not laughing as Jack
talked up the manager and told her how they were on a riding tour through the southwest after selling their business. If she didn’t know it was total bullshit, she would have believed it herself.
Their room was in farthest corner of the U-shaped motel. After they moved their gear inside the stifling room and switched on the air conditioning, they went back outside while the room cooled.
They wandered around the motel. They first checked out the pool, then the battered old Conestoga wagon displayed at the entrance before they retreated back to the rapidly cooling room. They sat on the edge of the bed and flipped through the television channels until they found the Albuquerque station with local news. They hoped to find some information on the cars, but they either missed it or it hadn’t made the news yet.
“We’ll try again at six. I’m sure it will be on then. There is no way the police aren’t going to announce that,” Jack said as he flipped the television off.
“What are we going to do until then?”
“As soon as there is some shade, I’m going to adjust the carb on the bike and see if I can’t fix that low speed stumble.”
“You have tools for that?”
“I carry a simple kit with me on the ‘39. It needs TLC every now and then,” he said with a grin.
“It’s not the only one,” Tina said as she pulled Jack down onto the bed.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Feeling safe for the moment, Tina and Jack smooched and snuggled, tickled and teased, while they squirmed and wrestled on the bed to burn off the stress of the morning. He finally got the best of her by holding her down on the bed with his right leg thrown over her left and his left hand holding her hands to the bed above her head. With her more or less immobilized, he kissed her passionately as his right hand slid into her pants and slowly stroked her to a moaning climax.
“That wasn’t very nice,” she scolded gently when she came out from under her orgasm and her eyes opened and focused on his.
“It looked like you were enjoying it,” he said as he tasted her lips again.
“It still wasn’t very nice,” she said as their lips parted. “Because now I want you inside of me.”
“Nope! Can’t do it!” he teased as he released her. “I have to work on the bike.”
“If you leave me hanging now you’re really going to get it tonight,” she warned.
“Like last night? I hope so.”
They stared at each other a moment before they burst into giggles as they kissed and touched playfully again.
Tina made a valiant attempt to return the favor on Jack, but she was unable to overcome his superior strength and she begged him to not make her come again—at least at the beginning—when he repinned her in the same position and once again slid his hand into her pants. After her second orgasm their play turned much gentler and they kissed slowly and deeply as they snuggled with each other until she drifted into sleep. He held her close, both of them still fully dressed if a bit disheveled, as she slept. God how he wanted her, but having fingered her to two orgasms as they tumbled on the bed was so much fun he didn’t really mind he had been left wanting. Maybe I really will get it tonight… I hope, he thought as his eyelids grew heavy and he stifled a reluctant yawn.
***
“What time is it?” Tina mumbled, her voice slurred and thick with sleep.
“Almost four,” Jack replied sleepily after looking at the bedside clock. While Tina slept deeply he had catnapped.
She stretched with a long groan. “I won’t sleep tonight.”
“Good,” he chuckled.
“You say that now...” she sighed before she became still again.
He disentangled himself from her. “Get up,” he commanded. “Let me adjust the carb on the bike, then we will go get something to eat. Then how about a dip in the pool?”
“We didn’t bring swimsuits.”
“So?”
“So… we are in enough trouble without the police showing up for skinny dipping.”
Jack chuckled. “No, not that. You wear your underwear and I will do the same. There aren’t many guests and there isn’t that much difference between our underwear and swimsuits. If the pool is busy, we’ll just skip it.”
She yawned mightily as she sat up. “That might be fun. It might be even more fun if the place is completely deserted. If you like the shower, how about a pool?” she asked with a sly smile.
He had lost his erection as they slept, but the thought of taking her in the pool starts him hardening rapidly.
“Down boy,” she teased as she watched him swell, delighted in getting the rise out of him.
Jack chuckled as he adjusted himself. “You started it.”
“Yeah… but can you finish it?” she asked, her voice low and suggestive as she stared into his eyes.
He watched her a moment and then turned away and gave his head a small shake as he tried to focus on getting his bike fixed. She certainly knew how to push his buttons, but they needed the bike in top working order if they had to leave suddenly. Breaking down in the desert is never a good idea.
As he closed the door behind him she giggled in delight as she smoothed her clothes and found her hairbrush. There was something about Mr. Jack Carter that she just couldn’t get enough of.
***
After twenty minutes of fiddling Jack had the Knucklehead running almost as sweet ever. It still seems to have a soft spot just off idle, but it was much improved over the morning.
“You think you got it?” Tina asked from behind him. She had stepped out of their room and watched him nurse the bike back to health.
“Not sure. Something isn’t quite right, but it’s a lot better than it was. I don’t understand it. I just rebuilt this carb not that long ago.”
“Maybe it isn’t the carb,” she suggested.
“What then?”
“Beats me. Could it be something that happened on the road? We rode pretty hard coming down today and that bike is no spring chicken.”
Jack grimaced at the thought. “Don’t say that. If that is what happened, if it is something internal, we’ve got a big problem.”
“Let’s see how it does on the way to dinner. Maybe it’s nothing.”
“Let’s hope,” Jack said with mentally crossed his fingers as he went into their room to wash up.
It only took a moment before he reappeared. The Knucklehead was so immaculate he barely had to wash his hands. They mounted up and Jack kicked the bike to life. It started easily, and except for that slight stumble, ran sweetly.
They stopped at the manager’s office for recommendations on places to eat and based on her suggestion they rode off in search of dinner. The Knucklehead pulled strongly and Jack breathed a sigh of relief that a major problem had been averted.
They rumbled through town to find Big D’s where they shared a parking space right in front. Inside they drooled over the menu before they ordered the Tomahawk burger for Jack and the Holy Guacamole burger for Tina. Because they were ahead of the dinner rush Jack was able to select a table that let him keep an eye on the bikes. They snickered to themselves while they waited for their food—almost everyone that walked past Jack’s bike stopped and admired its classic lines.
When their burgers arrived he took one look at it and grabbed his knife and fork. He didn’t even bother to try and pick it up. He didn’t bring enough clothes to risk soiling these by dumping that mess of a burger into his lap.
Tina didn’t realize how hungry she was until the first taste of the little patty of heaven on a bun nearly made her swoon. They had missed lunch as they tumbled on the bed and she felt it now. She tried, she really did, but she couldn’t finish all her burger... or her fries. She did save enough room, however, for them to share the Burnt Cream Custard with blueberries, though by the time they scraped the dessert dish clean she felt like she would waddle when she walked.
They sipped at their drinks as they prepared to leave when the local news appeared on the televisions. The lead story
was the recovery of the Ferraris. She saw Jack suddenly focus on the television and she turned in her chair to watch. The sound was off, but the closed captioning allowed them to follow what was said.
As the camera panned over the cars the running text along the bottom described how the six Ferraris had been stolen from the Cars as Art exhibit just over a week ago and how the thieves nearly got away with the cars valued at more than one hundred million dollars. Cutting back to the news reader, the text went on to explain how a tip had led to the discovery of the cars. Then the news quickly cut to a distinguished looking man in a police uniform as he explained how they expected to have those responsible in custody very soon.
Wild & Inked_A Motorcycle Club Romance_Desert Sons MC Page 13
