Found in Understanding: Refuge Series Book Three

by Debbie Zello

  “Not many. I bought this one at an insurance sale. It was badly wrecked in an accident right here in New Haven a couple of years ago. It took me a whole year to bring it back to this,” he said, completely void of feeling. “Did your man sell his?”

  I heard his question but my whole world had stopped spinning for that few minutes. I felt like I was in a tunnel with his voice at the far end. As I stared at the bike, he came over to me and put his hand on my arm. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I think this one was his. He was killed a year and a half ago, right down the street from here. He was hit by a truck that turned right on a red light without seeing him,” I said so slowly I almost couldn’t get it all out.

  “Oh, wow. I’m sorry. I’m all proud of the bike and you’re hurting,” he said with a loud sigh. “I’m called Trigger. I did three tours in the Marines and the name kinda stuck. Can I take you somewhere or do something for you?”

  “No thank you. I just left work and I’m on my way to class.”

  “Where do you work?”

  “Over there at the coffee shop. I have the early morning shift so I can get to class. I’m sorry if I ruined your morning. Good luck with the bike,” I said turning to leave.

  “Hey, I don’t even know your name?”

  “It’s Neomi. It was nice to meet you Trigger. I’m glad you’re home safe,” I said walking away with my thoughts.

  I shouldn’t have bothered to go to class at all that day. I spent the whole time thinking about Royce and missed everything said by my professors. It never occurred to me that his bike might be out there somewhere, that someone might be riding it.

  As I walked back to my dorm, I called Royce’s house. “Hello.” his mother said.

  “Hi, it’s Neomi. How are you?” I said.

  “I’m okay, Neomi. How are you doing?” she said.

  “I’m good, too. Busy with work and school.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “I left work this morning to walk to class and I passed by a motorcycle parked in the street. It looked so much like Royce’s I stopped to take a closer look at it. The man that owns it came up behind me and told me he had purchased it from an insurance sale. He said it had been in an accident and totaled. I never asked you what happened to his bike.”

  “We didn’t want it after the accident. It was totaled by the insurance company. We could have bought it back and repaired it ourselves but we just didn’t want it around as a reminder. If you’re asking if it’s his bike, I don’t know for sure. Somewhere around here, we have paperwork on it. I guess it has a VIN number the same as cars have, I’ll have to see if I can find it.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I don’t know why I want to know; I’ll probably never see him again. It was so random it bothered me. I never thought about someone else having it. It’s stupid. Forget I even asked about it,” I said, suddenly feeling badly about bothering her with my issues.

  “Don’t feel bad, Neomi. If I had been the one to see it, I would wonder too. It’s such a rare bike and to find one parked right in front of you would make you wonder. I’m curious now myself, so I am going to do some investigating. If I find out anything, I’ll let you know. How are your classes going?”

  “Interesting. I’m working hard. I want to stay here to complete my masters in Romantic Poetry. I think I want to follow Royce and teach at the college level.”

  “That would be a lovely tribute to him if you did. He would take a great deal of pleasure in knowing that he inspired you to teach. Teachers are a very special group of people. Often unappreciated by society but instrumental in every aspect of life.”

  “It was good talking to you. Please tell the family I said hi,” I said.

  “Take care, sweetheart. Bye.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sometimes life acts exactly like a novel with an impossible plot. April first, my favorite day of the year, into the coffee shop walks the man with the bike that had invaded my dreams. After several months of not having the nightmare about that day, they came back.

  I was waiting on another customer when he came in. I didn’t notice him until he stepped up to the counter to place his order. “Hi again. Neomi, right?” he said, smiling at me.

  “Yes. I’m surprised that you remembered my name. How are you, Trigger?” I said slightly shocked. My hand went to my hip, my safe place, where my tattoo comforts me.

  “It would be difficult, if not impossible, to forget your name,” he said while caressing me with his eyes. I felt warmth spread through me. His jacket was unzipped and the T-shirt under it stretched across his chest as if it was painted on. I have to learn not to stare. “Can I have a large regular coffee, black?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry,” I stammered out. I turned to fill his order. “Will there be anything else? A donut or bagel, maybe?” I said going into server mode.

  “I’d like to buy you a cup of coffee and maybe talk for a few minutes. Can you take a break?” he asked lifting one eyebrow. I thought about it for a few seconds and then swallowed hard.

  “I’m off in ten minutes if you want to wait. You don’t need to buy me coffee. I get it free. It’s one of my perks, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

  “I believe I might pardon just about anything you did, Neomi,” he said handing me his money. I rang up the sale and handed him his change. “I’ll wait for you.” I watched him take a seat at one of the tables.

  I finished cleaning up, smiling when I figured out he would know approximately when I got out because he knew what time it was when he met me. He didn’t run in here on the off chance I might be free. I found it sweet that he did this intentionally.

  I said good-bye to Paul as he walked in the back of the shop, poured myself a cup of coffee, and went to sit down. “So, Trigger, what do you do?”

  “What do I do? You mean for a living or for fun?” he said amused.

  “Either or both, I should say.”

  “Well, for fun, just about anything I can think of. I’m an adrenalin junkie. I skydive, scuba-dive, race cars and bikes. I work as both a private detective and bodyguard depending on what my client’s needs might be.”

  “You take risks with your life on purpose, regularly. Why do you do that?”

  “Comes with the territory. I’ve always enjoyed the fast lane. How about you? What do you do for fun?” he asked. I had to think about that question for a minute.

  “I go for walks. I read a good book. I watch TV or go to a movie. God, I sound so dreary. Mostly I have papers to write and homework to do. I’m finishing my third year at Yale. I’m an English major,” I said, as lackluster as my words sounded. I took a large drink of my coffee.

  “You’re not boring, you’re busy. Finishing your education is important to you, as it should be. Are you from around here?”

  “No. I’m from Southern California. I came here for college.”

  “And you’re going to stay because you like it here. It’s night and day different from home but you enjoy the busy pace and changing of seasons.” he said as if he could read my mind.

  “That’s true. Seventy-five degrees with a ninety-nine percent chance of sun everyday does get old,” I said giggling. He leaned in towards me and placed his hand over mine.

  “You have the most musical laugh, it’s beautiful. You should laugh all the time, Neomi. You would make the world a more pleasant place to be in.”

  “Thank you. I need to get going. I don’t want to be late to class. I’ve enjoyed talking to you,” I said standing to throw my cup away. He stood next to me.

  “I want to take you for a ride on the bike if you would like to go. I know that you don’t know me very well, but I can give you references if you want,” he said joking.

  “I don’t need a reference but I don’t like riding fast. I’m gun-shy after what happened to my boyfriend,” I said sadly.

  “Would you prefer a car to the bike? We could go to dinner Saturday night?” I thought about it for a minute and dec
ided I need to begin my life again. Royce wouldn’t want me to be alone forever and I like this man.

  “I would like to go to dinner with you.”

  “Great. Now you need to tell me where you live and what time you want to go,” he said, putting his hand on the small of my back as we walked out.

  “You have a date? I’m just hearing about this man now? How long have you known him?” Crystal voices her shotgun questions.

  “Give me a chance to tell you, for crying-out-loud!” I said frustrated with her.

  “I’m sorry. It’s so unusual for you to date. I’m shocked, that’s all.”

  “I haven’t felt like dating. I met him a week or so ago. I left work and passed by a motorcycle that looked like Royce’s bike. I was staring at it and he walked up behind me and started talking to me. It’s his bike and I believe it is Royce’s.”

  “Fuck!” she said covering her mouth with her hand. Her eyes shot wide open.

  “Exactly. What are the odds of two people having that in common? Anyway, he came in to get a cup of coffee and asked if he could buy me one and talk. I like him. He asked me if I would go to dinner with him. I said yes.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “He said to call him Trigger. He was in the Marines. I guess the name is something his club calls him.”

  “What kind of club?” she asked raising her eyebrow.

  “I think it’s a motorcycle club. The first time I saw him he was dressed in leather from head to toe. It was kinda hot.” I said smacking my lips at the memory.

  “Does he have any tats? I know how you are with them!” she said mocking me by wiping drool from her mouth.

  “I don’t know but Marine plus biker usually equals tats,” I said smiling.

  “I’ll do your hair, makeup and nails. I have a great little black dress you can wear and Ashley has a pair of red stilettos. You’ll look like a model in them. We’ll knock that biker-boy on his ass.”

  “He’s driving, maybe I shouldn’t rattle him,” I said laughing.

  “Men like to be rattled by beautiful women. They live for it actually. Ask one of them, they’ll tell you,” she said taking a brush to my hair.

  At five-thirty I was dressed and waiting in the TV room for my date. I was leaning against the back of a couch when he walked in. He was wearing a dark grey suit, black shirt and tie. A suit gives a man a certain look. In this case, the man gave the suit that look. Tall, dark and scrumptious.

  His eyes caressed me from feet to face as a smile formed that was wide and genuine. He walked up to me and raised his hand to touch my cheek. “Are you trying to kill me or is this accidental?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” I said, feigning innocence.

  “I’m sure you don’t. Let’s get out of here. I’m starving and we have a long drive,” he said taking my hand.

  He helped me with my sweater as we walked out the door. We walked down a path to a parking lot. He hit his opener and the lights flashed on a shiny deep red sports car with a convertible top. He opened the door and held my hand as I got in. “Comfortable?” he asked.

  “Very. What kind of car is this?” I asked.

  “It’s a ‘66 Corvette Stingray 427, do you like her?”

  “I like her. She looks brand new,” I said feeling the leather seat.

  “She just about is. She was a wreck a few years ago. A friend of mine helped me restore her. Wait until you hear her purr, it’s a thing of beauty,” he said closing the door and walking around.

  He was right. When he started the car there was a roar but no vibration. He explained about balancing the engine so precisely that it ran smooth. He backed out of the space and headed towards the highway. “Where are we going?”

  “Lansdowne Irish Pub, have you ever eaten there?”

  “No, never heard of it.”

  “It’s in Mohegan Sun Casino. Have you gone there?” he asked keeping his eyes on the road.

  “No. I don’t get out much.”

  “I probably should have asked. You are at least twenty-one, right?” he said frowning.

  “I turned twenty-one last December,” I said proudly.

  “Oh damn. So you’re just barely twenty-one,” he said shaking his head.

  “Is that a problem?” I said. He turned to look at me.

  “I’m thirty-three, Neomi. That’s quite a bit older than you. I figured you were young but now it sounds really young.”

  “I’m okay with it. If I’m okay, it shouldn’t bother you,” I said knowing I’m attracted to older men. The guys I know in college are pranksters and man whores. I don’t want to get to know them.

  “We’ll see,” he said turning his attention back to driving. After a few minutes of silence, he said. “Do you know how to drive a standard?”

  I smiled remembering Sky’s patient tutoring on the finer points of driving a standard. “Yes, I learned to drive on a standard.”

  “Well, I might let you drive Renee. She is used to a man’s hand but she might take to a beautiful woman like you.” he said as his eyes danced.

  “Renee? You named your car Renee. Why?”

  “Top forty song for 1966. Walk Away Renee by The Left Banke, one of my favorite songs.”

  Chapter Twenty

  We pulled into the casino parking lot, driving around to the valet parking attendant. My door was opened as well as Trigger’s. I heard him say to the attendant, “Don’t break her,” as he slipped some money into his hand.

  “No sir! I’ll be very careful.” the attendant said. Trigger came around the car and took my hand. Once we were inside the building, he stopped and looked around. I stood there watching him not knowing what he was waiting for.

  “Just as I thought,” he said looking at me.

  “What did you think?” I asked.

  “I’m with the most beautiful woman in the whole place,” he said holding my chin and lowering his lips to mine. His kiss was warm, soft and minty. He moved his head back to look at me again. “A man could get lost in your eyes, Neomi. You’re bewitching me, using your magic against me.”

  “Trust me, I have no magic. I’m as ordinary as they come.”

  “There is nothing ordinary about you,” he said kissing my cheek. Holding my hand again, we began walking towards the casino area. I could hear the sounds of hundreds of slot machines. “Do you want to throw a few coins in?” he asked me.

  “With my frugal upbringing, gambling would be a sin. I don’t throw money away on games of chance,” I said solemnly.

  “Let’s get to the restaurant then and you can tell me about that frugal upbringing.”

  The pub was cozy and dark. Books lined red walls. Dark wood floors looked warm and worn. The place was huge yet still had a comfy feel to it. We were seated in a dark corner away from most of the other diners. A woman came over to us almost immediately. “Hi, I’m Bree and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

  “Hi, Bree. What do you recommend?” Trigger asked.

  “Frankly, there isn’t anything on the menu that I wouldn’t recommend. You won’t be sorry with anything. Can I start you with drinks?”

  “We’ll have a bottle of chardonnay. Whatever you bring will be fine,” he told her. Bree walked away as he shifted his chair closer to me. “I should have asked you. Do you drink wine? I remember when I was in college all we drank was beer.”

  “I don’t like beer. I don’t drink much. I’ll try the wine,” I said opening the menu to look it over. Everything sounded so good. I began reading the history of the pub. “This was built in Ireland by Irish craftsman. It was disassembled and sent here. Then it was reconstructed on this site. That’s amazing.”

  “Do you want to meet the manager?”

  “You know him?” I asked wondering exactly who this man was that he would know the manager of this restaurant.

  “I know him. His name is Kevin Mcilwain. He’ll be around. He’s very hands on and stops by the tables to check on you.”

 
“Speaking of names, I have a question for you. You told me that everyone calls you Trigger. What is your real name?”

  “You’ll laugh.” he said, looking over the top of the menu.

  “Trust me, I won’t laugh. I had an unfortunate incident in school revolving around my name. Everyone laughed at me. I’m cognizant of people’s reactions to names.”

  “Well, Neomi, you will share that story if I tell you mine. Deal?” he quirked his eyebrow.

  “Okay, deal,” I said reluctantly.

  “My parents were flower children straight out of the sixties. They were in their forties when they finally joined the establishment and had me. Problem was, they were still at Woodstock when they named me. My real name is Understanding Matters Franklyn.” he said, watching my reaction.

  “I don’t believe you,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “No? Few people do. That’s why I’ve let Trigger become my name. I’ll show you my license,” he said taking out his wallet.

  He handed me the whole thing. I unfolded it and his license was visible along with several credit cards. Sure enough, it read exactly what he said. “Your name is Understanding. You’re as strange as I am. My name is Firelight,” I said, comfortable that he wouldn’t laugh at me.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Firelight. You have a beautiful name, it suits you.”

  We ate our dinner relaxed in each other’s company. I shared some of my life history with him. He did the same with his childhood. I found that I like wine so much better than beer. I began to feel the effects of the alcohol spread through me. I didn’t finish my second glass.

  “Do you want something for dessert?” Bree asked with the menu in her hand.

  “I’m stuffed so nothing for me,” I said.

  “I’m done as well, thank you,” Trigger said passing her his credit card. “We’re going to stay and dance for a while so put the cover charge on the bill too.”

  “Will do,” she said walking away.

  “I’m not much of a dancer,” I admitted.

  “You’ll be able to follow me. If I make you dance with me, it gives me a chance to hold you. Dancing is my way of showing you I’m interested in you. That I want you close. I’m courting you, Miss Dillon.”