by Davida Lynn
“Well, I don't have a motorcycle license.” I think he could hear the frustration growing in my voice.
He pointed toward the back of the garage. I hadn't noticed before, but there was a blue tarp. I couldn’t see what was beneath it, but it was bigger than a bike, so that was a step in the right direction.
“That one has four wheels. It’s yours until Harvey is all better, if you want.” He turned back and began to grind on the hood again. Tanner had my curiosity, but of course he left it at that. He was a magician building up the trick, then switching to something different right when the tension was highest.
Knowing he wouldn’t deliver, I tiptoed back to the house for my sneakers. Throwing them on, I went back to the garage, giving Tanner a wide berth as sparks marked the disappearance of Jason’s creepy message from my hood.
The back of his shop was filled with half-open boxes and parts. A few naked centerfolds were taped to the walls, and I had to roll my eyes. Was he a stereotype? A rough-edged biker, stoic, beefy, and obsessed with tits? Yes. Yes, he was. I wouldn't have been surprised to see a beer tap coming out of the wall.
I grabbed the end of the tarp and looked back to Tanner. I wanted approval before pulling it off, but he was busy with the hood. He must have trusted me, or he would have been watching me carefully. It was hard to get used to a man letting me live my own life. It was refreshing.
I pulled the tarp toward me and away from what was hiding beneath.
It was beautiful. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it was a work of art on four wheels. The curves, the color, the chrome…
I felt a tinge of guilt for thinking that it made Harvey look like something from the scrap yard as I ran my fingers over the trunk, almost feeling the engine roaring to life already. A black wing sat on top of the bright yellow car, the combination of colors somehow making it look mean.
I walked to the side, where the black of the wing on the trunk continued in a stripe all the way to the front. I saw the hood was black to accentuate the contrast. It was long and low, sleek and aggressive.
“That is a 1971 Mustang Boss. My car has a name, too. It’s Bruce, and you’d better be careful.” Tanner was standing right behind me, a set of keys dangling in front of my face.
My eyes widened. “Are you serious? I can’t drive this thing!”
“Why not?”
Flabbergasted, I said, “Because… I don't know! What if I scratch it? What if I wreck it?”
Tanner put his free arm around me. I could smell sweat and burning metal coming from his body. He whispered into my ear, setting my heart on fire. “Then I guess you’ll owe me a lot of lap dances. Take the fuckin’ thing.”
I raised my hand slowly and took the keys from him. Going from a shitty Toyota to a classic Mustang was an insane jump. He was right, though. Jason wouldn’t recognize the car, and he might leave me alone.
“Hop in. Get a feel for it.”
When Tanner freed me from his grasp, I stepped forward, regarding the car like a painting in the Louvre. I wanted to touch it, but I knew I shouldn't. Tanner watched me as I opened the door. The black interior beckoned me to sit inside, and I did. The seat hugged me, smooth and cool to the touch.
I looked back to him. “Can I start it?”
“I don’t know, can you?”
Wiseass.
I slid the key into the ignition and brought the car to life. Inside the large garage, the engine noise reverberated. My heart surged, and a wide smile appeared on my face. Tanner looked proud, as if I’d just been awakened to how awesome this car was. It was beautiful, but that engine sounded downright sexy.
I laid my foot on the gas pedal with reverence. Just a light push sent the motor revving up, the sound growing louder in the garage.
Tanner was leaning on the door. He bent forward, a boyish grin on his face. “Don’t be shy.”
I pushed it down, nearly to the floor. The car actually twisted beneath me, as if it yearned to move. It wanted to be driven, and I wanted to drive it.
I was probably grinning like an idiot, but I didn’t care, “Oh my God, Tanner. This car is amazing!”
“I know. I built the thing from the ground up. It was rust and dreams when I found it. Bruce got me through some hard times, and he drove me away from even harder ones. If this thing could talk…” He looked wistful. I never would have figured Tanner for sentimental, but if he was, it would be about a car.
I leaned from the car and kissed him, “This thing does talk.” I hit the gas again, loving the feeling of the engine twisting the car.
He laughed. “Give me your phone and get your stuff from Harvey. You've got to get ready for work soon.”
“What do you need my phone for?”
“I’m putting my number in. Twenty four seven. You need anything, you let me know.”
I pulled it from my pocket and handed it to him. I reached for the key to shut the Mustang down, but Tanner said, “Let it run, it’s fine.”
I nodded, climbing from the vintage muscle car. As I headed to Harvey for my bag, I marveled at the smell. It hit me the second I started the car, but it was even better from behind: burnt gasoline, but not the muted, neutered smell of a modern car. It was rich and powerful. It made my blood rush, just like Tanner. I was sinking fast, and I knew it.
Once I had everything in the backseat of the Mustang and Tanner’s cell number in my phone, I backed the car from the garage. I did it slow, and I checked the mirrors over and over again. The last thing I wanted was to do anything to Tanner’s car. It was beautiful and powerful, and he had entrusted it to me.
I navigated between his motorcycle and Harvey, feeling like the walls were closing in on me. I knew that I had plenty of room, but still, I worried. Tanner watched for a second, but then turned back to the hood. Either he trusted me, or he really didn’t care about his car at all. I still couldn’t tell. He became more mysterious each time he opened his mouth. He spoke about Bruce like the car had saved him. I laughed, thinking of the old David Hasselhoff show with the talking car.
Ready to head back to my place, I revved the engine to get his attention. When he looked into the driveway, I blew him a kiss. He smiled and walked to the car.
Leaning through the window, he said, “You’re off Friday?” I nodded. “Let me take you out. Nothing fancy, just the bar my club drinks at. Whadd’ya say?”
He was crushing on me hard, which was good and bad. I’d get anything I needed from him, but it only made my guilt grow. I didn’t think he was exactly asking me on a date, and even if he was, it might be good for Jason to spot me out with another hulking man. The problem could get solved right away.
“Yeah, that would be fun. I’ll call you Friday?”
Tanner nodded. With that, I left his house. I was confused about many things, mostly my feelings. But it was all for the best.
Right?
The car was a beast. I had to be careful, because it was so easy to break the back tires loose. My heart raced, and I fought for control the entire drive back to my apartment.
The rest of the day somehow felt like complete tedium. I threw my laundry in the wash and prepared my outfits for the night, but I kept peering through the kitchen window at the yellow and black hornet of a car in the parking lot.
Every time I saw it, Tanner popped into my head, and every time Tanner popped into my head, my heart jumped. Blood rushed to my loins at the thought of his body. God, I don’t know how he did it, but he somehow managed to please me in a way that made me think every lover I’d ever been with was doing it wrong.
Tanner was definitely doing it right.
With my bag for the evening packed, I sat at my table, a cup of tea steaming in front of me. Questions kept echoing in my mind: What the hell was I going to do? How long could I string Tanner along before he figured it out I was just using him? When was Jason going to strike again?
I tried to shake my ex from my head, but that word he had carved into my hood: CHARITY. How could I have been so
wrong about someone? I told myself that I had a strong biker wrapped around my finger, and Jason was going to get his, but then what?
I couldn’t see myself bringing Tanner home. I couldn’t introduce him to my mom or dad. I couldn’t introduce him to all the people I grew up with. I didn’t want to deal with any of that “trying to white herself up” bullshit. I tried to shake it all from my head and worry about work that night.
Once my tea was done, I threw my bag over my shoulder and headed to work. There was nothing left for me to do at home but dwell on questions that had no answers.
I pulled the throaty muscle car into the gravel lot and parked next to Alana’s SUV. As usual, she was napping in the driver’s seat until her shift started. She’d been working in clubs long enough that they were nothing but tired, dirty buildings to her. The Mustang woke her up, but maybe she thought it was still a dream.
Alana had the most confused look on her face when she rolled the window down. “What is this?” She eyed the car like men eyed us on stage.
I smiled, leaning toward the passenger’s side so I could talk to her. “What, you don’t recognize Harvey? I had his hood all taken care of.”
She got out of the SUV and walked around to my side. I let the engine run just because I loved hearing its deep, gurgling idle.
“Seriously, though.”
“I’ll give you one guess where it came from.”
“That biker?”
I nodded. A smile crept onto my face as Alana leaned in to look inside the car.
“You must have fucked him six ways from Sunday to get this. Jesus, look at it.”
I laughed and shut the engine off. Stepping out, I pulled my bag with me. “Well, I did fuck him, but I don’t think that’s why he let me borrow,” I said it again to make sure she understood, “borrow his car. He actually pulled the hood off of Harvey to sand off Jason’s handy work. I think he likes me.”
I didn’t want to admit it, because it just made me feel cold. I was using this guy, and he was giving me everything I could ask for. He gave me a safe place to stay, amazing, rough sex that I wouldn’t forget, and now he was fixing my car and letting me borrow his. He definitely liked me.
“You think? Yeah. He likes you a lot. Probably wants to put a baby up in there.” She poked at my stomach.
I laughed. “Shut up. Can we please just go strip for strangers in exchange for money, now?”
Alana smiled at me. “If you insist.”
“I do insist. Now, get in there, you sexy tramp.”
Tanner was in my head. He was like a tattoo that I didn’t remember getting. Everything reminded me of him, and I couldn’t decide if I liked it or not. He had been an incredible lay, and even sitting in front of the mirror applying my makeup, I could feel a distinct wetness between my legs thinking about Tanner’s big cock.
It was a rare night that my work would get me fired up, but every dance, every look from customers, and every dollar turned me on more and more, and I wanted to jump Tanner again the second that I saw him.
All in all, my night was going great until I came backstage after my last stage dance of the night. Things went from high to low in a heartbeat.
There was a box sitting below my locker. I looked around in confusion, but the dressing room was empty. I recognized Jason’s handwriting, and I recognized his obsession: CHARITY.
I froze. I didn’t want anyone to see it, and I almost reached for it. Part of me thought it might be a bomb or something, and I couldn’t bring myself to grab it. Jason was winning. I was paralyzed with fear. He had been inside the building without anyone knowing. I twisted my head toward the back door. Fear had a stranglehold on me, and I began to shake.
Heels clicked on the concrete behind me, and I snapped from my frozen stance. I snatched the box up before anyone else could see it. I shoved it into my locker and slammed it closed hard. Heaven was on her break for the night, and she stopped in her tracks.
“Whoa. You doing all right, Charity?”
I didn’t answer. The words wouldn't come out. I wanted to brush it off and tell her something that would change the subject, but I just stared at her. I felt the corners of my lips curl as I broke down.
I slid down the lockers to the floor, my feet sprawled out in front of me, the platform boots weighing my legs down. I felt Heaven’s hand on my shoulder, but when I opened my eyes, I could barely see through the blur of tears.
“Honey…Oh, God, what is it?” Her voice sounded like it was at the end of a long tunnel; drowned out and distant.
It was happening again. A panic attack. I hated myself for letting it happen, and I hated Jason for hurting and manipulating me from afar.
Breathe. In and out. I repeated it over and over, forcing myself to get a hold of the panic. Wiping away the tears, I could see the lights around the mirrors dimming in front of me. I didn’t want to pass out again. I had to control it.
A voice came to me. It was Tanner’s. Look, I’ve got a past, too. Maybe you do; maybe you don’t, but I get the idea of keeping your name to yourself.
It was comforting, in some strange way. He let me have my anonymity. He let me have my pain and my past, as long as I let him have his.
For whatever reason, the dark tunnel began to dissipate. I felt the tingling in my fingers begin to fade. I was coming back to the world. Heaven was kneeling beside me. Another dancer had come in, and I saw her digging through her bag in front of me.
It was Alana. She pulled a bottle of water out and snapped off the cap. After she handed it to me, I took a long drink. My throat was parched, and the water was a welcomed relief.
Alana looked down at me. “All right, Charity, time for you to spill the beans.”
Once I was able to stand, I told them about Jason’s latest barrage of text messages, the hood of my car (Alana was the only one I’d told), and now the box.
Heaven pulled it from my locker and looked inside. “Oh, Jesus!” She closed it quick and tossed it into a trash can near the back door.
“What?” I spun around. I hadn’t wanted any part of it before, but now I had to know what that sick fuck had done.
She looked back at me, a sad look on her face. “I guess it was a pair of your panties. There’s cum all over them.”
That somehow didn’t surprise me. He was delusional, and he was sexually obsessed with me.
Alana spoke before I could. “That sick fuck. Charity—Jenny—you have to call the police!”
Ignoring Alana, I asked, “Were the panties light blue?”
Heaven looked confused. “Yeah, why?”
I nodded, “Good. It was the pair I forgot at his place. At least he hasn’t broken into my apartment.”
Alana repeated herself, “You need to call the cops. He’s violating the restraining order.”
I turned back to the mirror. “Heaven, could you let Leonard know that I’m going to pack up? I’m not scheduled for any more dances tonight, and I don’t think I’d be much good out there on the floor.”
“Yeah.” She shook her head. “It’s fine, really. I think Princess is right, though. You need to call the cops.”
Frustration got the better of me. “He is the cops! You think I haven’t tried? You know who showed up at my door last time I called them? His partner. You know what he told me? Jason was just grieving. Jason was torn up about the relationship ending, and he hadn't quite gotten back to whole. His partner told me not to sweat it. Not to sweat it!”
