“Can you talk to the police with it?”
“No, this model is just a receiver.”
“You find anything interesting on the radio?” I asked, poking at my cereal with a spoon. “Anything about when the weather will clear up?”
“Other than a ham radio station by someone into Russian music, it’s mostly been static,” he answered, tuning the radio. It spurted out electronic gibberish. “Finish up your cereal, Emily. You’ll need your energy.”
I giggled. “Okay, dad.”
Max joined in on my laughter. I felt better seeing him act cheerier. He must have gone months without sitting down and having breakfast with someone else in his home. Together, we ate, talked, and listed to the snow pile up outside of us.
It could be weeks before it was safe to go outside. Thankfully, Max had prepared well for this blizzard. We had enough food and fuel to make it through the next couple of weeks. We also had enough firewood to for the woodstove and the fireplace. At least for water, we could melt and filter the snow.
After putting on a shirt, Max tended carefully to the fireplace with a poker. He was vigilant of feeding too much wood into fireplace. I liked being warm but I didn’t plan on dealing with house fire. Nonetheless, the fireplace bathed the living room with a gorgeous glow. I leaned over Max’s shoulder and said. “Your house is just beautiful. I never get tired of looking at it. It feels like something out of a fairy tale.”
“The view from the attic is great,” he mused, finally satisfied with the fire. “Maria and I would go up there in the Summer and just watch the stars at night.”
“I’d like to see it one day.”
“And I’d like to take you up there,” he said, his eyes reminiscing about the past. “But it’s as cold as an icebox there. I have to get around to adding more insulation up there.”
Max stood up beside me and gazed at the fire. The man was so gorgeous. His shirt did little to hide his muscular body. I saw toned flesh and dark tattoos where his shirt failed to cover. A few scars attested to his violent past but did little to diminish his attractiveness
Any woman would have given a kidney to spend a night with him. Max must have gone for months without being intimate with a woman. I’d just have to charm him…
I cursed myself for thinking such perverted thoughts about a widower. The man was at his most vulnerable. I didn’t need to further torment him just for a night of passion.
The two us just basked in the warm glow of the fireplace. Eventually, Max turned to me and said. “I’m going to go down check up on the generator. We can use candles for lighting but we need the generator’s power for plumbing.”
While he headed down to the basement, I changed into some of my spare clothes. I hadn’t packed much but I had a few sets of clothing to cycle through. I wore some sweatshirts and some sweatpants that would help me keep warm.
I went downstairs to check on Max. I poked my head around the corner and saw him checking the side of a power generator. It hummed like an oversized electric shaver. However, my eyes were on the man beside it.
Max leaned over the mechanical contraptions and pulled at a part inside of it. The sinews in his strong body flexed as he did his work. The man’s torso was broad and almost bull-like. He had a pair of powerful legs to support his powerful frame. I felt like a perverted voyeur watching him like this.
Suddenly, the man’s shoulders jerked awake when he saw that I was spying on him.
“Sorry, you scared me,” he said, looking the slightest bit embarrassed. “I’m just not used to someone else living here.”
I glanced at the generator. “Is something wrong, Max?”
“No, just a wire got loose and kept hitting fan,” Max shook his head. For good measure, he hit a button and activated the generator. It was loud but didn’t stop us from conversing. “It’s didn’t affect the generator’s performance but the sound just drove me crazy.”
I listen to it hum. “What do we need power for again?”
“There’s an aquifer below this house,” he explained, giving the generator a last minute inspection. “There’s a well in the back I use to draw water but it’s frozen shut. Thankfully, I can also pump it directly into the house if I use the generator. I can also use the power to heat up the water if need be.”
“We could heat up water on the stove,” I suggested. “My family did that during a blackout when I was a kid. It’ll help save some power.”
He smiled at me in approval. It made me feel like we were a team. “That sounds like a better idea. But first, I need to take a count of how much fuel I have and store it properly.”
The two of us went to work taking inventory of supplies. We had a few canisters of fuel for the generator. We had oil for the lanterns. There was also some propone for a gas powered stove he kept as backup. The man looked prepared for the zombie apocalypse from the looks of things.
Max moved the fuel canisters into a storage space in the basement. It would keep them safe from the elements or if a fire broke out in the basement. Rolling of my sleeves, I tried to get on my knees and help him but my hair kept getting in the way. Unfortunately, I left my hairband upstairs.
To my surprise, Max stepped in and began trying my hair. Within seconds, he had turned my head into a rather elegant bun. “Where did you learn to tie here like that?”
“Maria loved having her hair tied by someone else,” he said wistfully, skillfully putting on some final touches. “I guess it was a German thing. Before we went to bed, she’d make me tie her hair as practice. At first, I mangled that beautiful hair of hers. Eventually, I got good enough to do it with my eyes closed.”
“I could use a personal hairdresser.”
“And I could use some who actually knows how to cook.”
The both of us had a laugh at that.
After taking turns cleaning up in the shower, we cooked lunch. Or I cooked lunch to be more precise. I made Max chop up some vegetables as I prepared some pasta. The blizzard raged outside but I didn’t care. Soon I was as warm and happy as I had ever been.
Afterwards, we played some boards games. They were fun and didn’t eat up in electricity. Max proved to be a rather skilled player at Hungry-Hungry Hippos.
I couldn’t help but be somber at the prospect. These games were likely purchased for Max’s son as he got older. He should’ve been playing with Maria and Michael instead of a stranger like me.
Having been thoroughly defeat, I leaned against Max and watched the lit fireplace. I reach out to hold his hand. It was more out of instinct than a deliberate desire of intimacy. His body was warm and strong like a stone pillar under a hot sun.
I pressed my chest against his arm. His body was like a whirlpool drawing mine in. In another life, we would’ve been boyfriend and girlfriend enjoying a quiet afternoon together.
Suddenly, Max broke away and put some distance between us. I felt like I had committed some faux pas towards my gracious host. Immediately, the tension sprung up between us like a rebuilt Berlin Wall.
He headed towards the kitchen. “Let’s see what we have for dinner.”
Dinner was much less awkward. We dined on smoked salmon and vegetables. To my surprise, salmon would sometimes spawn in these parts despite its distance from the coast. Although local fishermen sold a variety of catches, Max usually fished for them himself. He smoked the salmon so that he could preserve them for the future.
Feeling festive, Max broke out a bottle of champagne. One of his clients had given it to him as thanks for helping rebuild his home after a fire destroyed it. I whistled in admiration of the vintage drink. “This must have cost a thousand dollars. You seriously never even opened it?”
“Even back during my biker days, I never liked drinking alone,” he shrugged, popping the cork. Max poured two drinks in beer mugs. It was all he had available at the moment. “It always made me feel like some alcoholic. Eagles always feast together.”
“Well, I’m not sure that’s true,” I giggled, tapping m
y glass against his. “But cheers!”
We drank the entire damn bottle before retiring on the couch. We snuggled together as best as a platonic couple could. Max would get up to stroke the fireplace with a poker before returning to me. For the second straight night, I fell asleep on the couch.
This time, however, I wasn’t the only one. Max had fallen asleep on the couch as well. It was well-deserved rest after a stressful day.
He had taken off his shirt, which revealed the toned muscles of his torso. His muscles had grown slack during his slumber but were still impressive nonetheless. I wondered if it had been deliberate or was just as tired. Nonetheless, it looked like he was sound asleep.
I noticed that the shriek of icy wind had ended. I wondered if the blizzard had subsided for the moment. However, I wasn’t eager to go out and see for myself.
The fireplace had gone dark but the glow of a lone candle illuminated the man’s body. A life of hard work had reward him with an impressive physique. Intricate tattoos and faint scars marked his athletic frame. I was tempted to trace a path across an elaborate eagle tattoo on his back.
As much as I would’ve liked to stay and ogle him, I was also hungry. I got up to make breakfast in the kitchen. Raiding the icebox and the pantry, I found some fresh eggs. It was probably a good idea to go through the food that had an expiratory date on them. I began cooking eggs and toast on the stove.
Soon, Max woke up and saw me flipping eggs. There was a nostalgic expression on his face. I wondered how many times he had woken up to find his wife cooking breakfast. He must have kissed her on the cheek and twirled her around like in a sappy romance movie. They would sit with their infant child at the table and talk about mundane things. That should have been his life.
After a quiet breakfast, Max went out to the storage shed in the back. It held fuel for the generator and lamps. There was also some firewood that he didn’t need at the moment. More importantly, there was a pump in the shed he could use to siphon fuel from cars. I worried about him heading out into the cold by himself. However, the man brushed off my concerns. “It looks like the snowstorm has slowed down for the moment. I don’t know if I’ll get another opportunity to haul stuff from the shed.”
“While you’re out there, siphon the gas from my car,” I offered. “Put it to good use. It’s not doing anyone a favor just congealing in the fuel tank.”
The biker nodded. “I will.”
He came back covered in snow and smelling gasoline. Like a strict mother, I made go clean off in the shower. Nonetheless, Max had a pretty good haul. We would be able to survive for a month if the weather conditions continued to be so severe. This was feeling less like an emergency and more and more like a vacation.
Max came out of the shower with a towel around his waist. He used a hand towel to dry his hair. It looked wet and shiny like silk under a rainfall. I stepped in to help comb his hair.
After a few minutes, he admired the James Dean look I gave him. “You’re good at combing hair.”
“And you’re good at braiding hair,” I retorted. It felt nice to return the favor, especially with him only wearing a towel. “My mother worked as a hairdresser. I never knew her very well but some of her skills rubbed off on me. It must be genetic.”
“I never had much of a family,” he revealed absentmindedly. “My father was a hired gun for the Steel Eagles. My mother was a waitress he dated. She served him coffee at the diner he went for breakfast.”
“My parents met the same way,” I replied. “Dad met mom when she was a teenager cutting hair on weekends.”
“My mother died when I was a toddler. She had always been a sickly woman.”
“Did she go to a hospital for help?”
“No, she was an illegal immigrant from a war torn country in Eastern Europe,” Max sighed. “My mother came here as a stowaway in a cargo ship. She was afraid getting medical attention get her jailed or deported. My birth had almost claimed her life. After she died, I ended up living with my father.”
“That’s awful,” I gasped, momentarily stopping my combing. “What about your father? Did you live with him and his motorcycle club?”
“When I was five, he died during a shootout,” he said, continuing his tragic tale. “The Steel Eagles took me in since they respected my father. He had fought and bled for them so they wanted to make sure I was taken care of. They fed and clothed me. They taught me to fight with my fists, ride a motorcycle, and shoot a gun. They also made me take up my father’s mantle. I was a gunrunner when most teenager were worrying about pimples and the school prom.”
“If the club was that important to you, then why did you leave?”
“I never planned on leaving,” he admitted. “For years, I didn’t think much about the world outside of the motorcycle club’s four walls. Maria changed all of that. She made me question my ties to the Steel Eagles.”
“And your club just let you go?”
“Just like my old man, I had fought and bled for them,” he answered, his fingers tracing a scar on his shoulder. It looked like a bullet wound that had entered and exited him. It seemed like it had missed any major internal organs. We had something in common after all. “I had earned the right to leave. Besides, they were scared of Maria.”
My eyes widened in disbelief. “Some tough motorcycle club was afraid of a German college student?”
“More of what she represented,” he clarified, flashing a bright smile. “I felt truly happy in being with her. It reminded me of when my mother held me as a child. She would talk to me about growing up into a good man… back before the Eagles and my father took me away. To be honest, I was a little scared of Maria myself.”
“You were afraid of her?”
“The Eagles were taught to keep their emotions locked up inside of them,” Max said, almost sounding as if he were quoting someone. “Emotions are dangerous in that line of work. I believed that… until I met Maria.”
“One woman did that?”
“She showed me there was more to life than the Steel Eagles,” Max continued, his eyes looking wistful. “Maria opened my eyes to a humble life with a real family. Not one of violence and killing. Soon, the place I had called a home became a prison. I told the club president I planned on leaving with Maria.”
“How did that go?” I asked. “I can’t imagine it’s as easy as giving your boss the usual two weeks’ notice.”
“It was dangerous to challenge him but we had to leave,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. It was like he was massaging long dormant memories in his head. “Surprisingly enough, he understood where I came from. At first, I thought it was due to the respect he held for my late father. However, he had faced the same dilemma that I had.”
I put the pieces together. “He fell in love with a woman…”
“And he choose the club over her,” Max replied, almost letting out a cynical laugh. “He knew the power of what I felt for Maria and he was afraid of it. As club president, he was terrified of the bikers loving someone more than they loved the club. Inside its walls, the club could control us. It could mold us into whatever he or the next club president wanted us to be.”
“So he was afraid of your bond with Maria becoming stronger than your bond with the club.”
“Exactly,” he said. “I made the choice he couldn’t. I had never thought I’d start a normal life and raise a family. Maria opened up my eyes. I saw what happened to my dad when he put the club before his family. He died alone over a stupid deal that went bad.”
“I’m sure your mother would’ve been proud,” I said in admiration. I reached out to rest my hand on his shoulder. My hair cascaded upon his bare skin. “And Maria as well. She must’ve been a special woman.”
SAVIOR: A Motorcycle Club Romance Page 3
