by Lexy Timms
Jace slipped his tongue into her mouth, the familiar feel of her beckoning him to forget his worries for the moment. His eyes closed and tried to find the sweet taste of her he remembered. She tasted different, but her moan of pleasure was familiar.
When someone walked by and cleared their throat loudly, they pulled apart, as if surprised they’d found themselves lip-locked.
"What’re you doing at the hospital, Darcy?" He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Friend of mine got hurt. She and I sometimes do this thing out at a biker bar. You know, just for fun. But she took a turn too fast and hit the gravel."
His breath hitched in his throat. "A friend? What's her name?"
"Colleen O'Hara."
"Classic?" Jace wiped his mouth again and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Heck, not too many people call her that, but yeah, Classic. You know her?"
"I'm trying to get in to see her."
Darcy shook her head. "Sweetie, it’s bad news. I mean, really bad. She jumped off her bike before it went over a bridge. Witness said she was going way too fast and someone was trying to catch her. I don't know if it's true. People just talk, ya know, but she's out cold. Hasn't come to since. Her body’s a mess." Darcy pulled on her leopard skin top, as if to remind him how good hers still was.
Jace stood. "I'm going to see how she is."
Darcy jumped up and put her hand on his arm. "Listen Jace, please. You shouldn’t go in there. It’s not pretty.”
“I need to know who was chasing her.” It sounded like a good excuse to him.
Darcy shivered. “She’s not awake.”
“I can wait.”
She shook her head. “No, you can’t. Her face slid along the asphalt. She looks like Frankenstein's bride reject. I mean really bad and, well, the docs are trying to save her arm…"
Jace slowly sat back down. "Oh, hell..." He didn't move. He could barely take a breath. "Is she going to die?"
Darcy shook her head. "That's the only good news. The doctors don't think so. That's what they have been telling her folks anyway."
"She has folks?" He stared at Darcy, surprised.
"Granfolks. She lost her parents when she was about seven to a nasty car accident, but she has her grandpop and grandma. She's pretty close to them, at least that’s what she told me before, you know.” Darcy’s mouth set in a tight line. “We like to hang out at some of the biker bars around here. Classic likes flirting around with that damn club, the Chiron Knights. You know them?"
Jace nodded. His face shadowed. So she is mixed up with them.
"Well, her grandpop doesn't like that at all. Wants her to finish school. Classic wants to be a nurse."
"Yeah, I know. She told me." The air seemed to rush back into his lungs once again. "Well, if you’re sure she’s going to be okay, I’ll come back tomorrow. Maybe she’ll even be awake then."
"She'll be here. She's not going anywhere for a long time. Fact is, they don't know when she’s going to wake up or what state her brain is in. She's in a coma. She could have just scraped all her memories clean out of her head." Darcy shook her head. "Crazy things people do, you know? I mean, I remember when you and I were young we would ride our scooters and then we rode our friggin' skateboards, doin' the rails, and flippin, and all that, remember? And then we got motorbikes and you had to go and get a big 'un.” She winked and gave him a sexy smile. “And, of course, Fork was always doing the same thing you were doin'. Up to then, we were like the Three Musketeers or the Three Stooges, I don't know which." She laughed. "But I didn't go for the big bikes, or the club. Just you and Fork."
Jace remembered. She’d been with him many times; on the bike, off the bike, in a bar, in a washroom, pretty much everywhere. Fork too. The Three Musketeers branded as one.
Darcy put her hand on his leg. "She's going to live, Jace." She looked into his eyes, memories clouding hers as they were his. "Just be careful Jace. She's hooked up with some tough dudes. She didn’t realize until she was in too deep. They're not people you wanna mess with."
"Thanks Darcy." He was glad he bumped into her today.
"For what?"
"For everything. It’s good to see you. How's your life going?"
She got a faraway look in her eyes, but she slipped her sunglasses on to hide her face. She used her left hand to cover her right shoulder. "My life’s fine. Just absolutely fine. Wonderful even."
He knew she was lying, but wouldn’t probe if she didn’t want to talk about it. He wished he could go see Classic. He gave Darcy his cell phone number and told her to keep in touch before heading to his bike.
Chapter 8
Darcy ran her fingers through her bleached blond hair. She sat in her car, watching him pull away on his bike. He looked the same. Still amazing and hot. Even from the back end of the bike. Part of her wished she’d asked him to take her for a ride. Maybe stop somewhere under a bridge, relive some old memories.
She glanced in her car's rearview mirror. She wished she could say she had stayed the same too. She’d aged. She rubbed her sore shoulder and pulled her shirt down to see if the bruises were healing. They had lost the deep purple and were now an ugly brownish-blue color with shades of green around the edges.
Luckily, he’d been too wrapped up in his own misery to notice. The old Jace would never have let it slip. She reached up and touched her shoulder, grimacing as pain shot down her arm.
What would Jace have said if he knew I was a Chiron Knight? She pulled up her shirt sleeve revealing the tattoo of the centaur. He wouldn't understand. Hell, she didn’t.
She put her head in her hands. Why the hell did they have to kill Fork? Of all the people in the whole world, Fork was the sweetest. Him and Jace. She felt she could still hear him laughing and wrestling with her on their front lawn. How old were we? Ten. Maybe nine. She smiled. Oh Fork, shit. Please forgive me. I didn't know they would do it. It isn't as if I sold you out. I should’ve known they would ask me about you. They asked me about your favorite haunts, your best friends. She swallowed hard. "And now you're gone. Okay Fork, yes, I can take it on the chin. I won't lie to you. You know it anyhow. I sold you out for a few snorts. Damn Fork!" Her mind continued to rummage through her childhood memories.
Fork grinned as he pointed his eleven-year-old finger straight at her. "Hey Darcy Parsy Puddin' Pie, wanna ride on my handlebars?" Oh what a grin, even with his front tooth missing he was still cute. He had knocked it out playing baseball. Caught a fly with his mouth. Now that was talent. Darcy giggled and then frowned as tears slid down her cheeks. She should have kept her mouth shut now, and back then when Fork was flirting like a little boy.
"No I don't wanna ride on your stupid handlebars, Francis. Francis, Francis, pants full of molasses." Poor Fork. But he didn't get mad, he just drove his bike right over next to me and leaned over and kissed my cheek. He kissed my fuckin' cheek and said, "You're mine Darcy Miller. Remember that. You’re mine for all time. Longer than a million times a million. You’re mine infinity times infinity and plus ten." His eyes twinkled and he rode away. She shook her head. "Damn Fork. You’re dead and that’s just it. Dead."
Another memory took hold of her just as she tried to put the car key in the ignition. It was six years after the bicycle incident. This time it was a motorbike.
Fork didn’t need words to explain what he was doing this time. Darcy sat on his motorbike, her legs spread wide as he crawled up between her legs and pulled her panties to the side. He moved his head even closer, inhaling her scent before dipping his tongue into her core. He groaned and it vibrated waves of pleasure through her as his tongue feasted on her moist flesh.
Darcy clamped her legs tight around his head as she arched her back. This new type of experience was going to drive her insane. Fork pushed his tongue deeper inside her, the tasting filling his mouth as his hands forced her thighs further apart. She muttered something to him, maybe to stop or not to stop, she couldn’t remember.
For
k only growled in response as he continued to eat her and slid his tongue over her nub. Darcy grinded against him and the bike, letting a scream escape as she came and release flooded through her. Fork swallowed, taking everything she gave him. When she finally stopped shaking, he leaned back on his haunches and unzipped his jeans. He was holding the bike as she wrapped her arms and legs around him in one motion. His large erection pressed between her thighs a moment before he grunted and slid it fully into her. Not soft and gently, that was never Fork’s style.
Just hard and fast.
Like how he drove his bike.
She muffled his grunts and moans with her mouth as his ass moved back and forth, thrusting harder into her with each motion. His teeth scraped against her lower lip. She slid against the bike seat, it growing wet from her and their sweat. A hand moved up to grope her breast and he squeezed it hard. His thrusts grew faster and more frantic.
He tensed suddenly and came, his body still grinding himself against her thighs before finally collapsing against her.
“Fuck, Fork. When’d you learn to do that?”
“I watch a lot of porn.” He grinned wickedly at her as he wiped his mouth and then leaned back to pull his jeans back on.
He reached inside the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a box. “I’d do that to you all the time if you say yes to this.”
She pulled her short skirt over her ass and reached for the box. A pretty antique-looking ring lay inside it. "No Fork, I won't take the ring. I’m not going to marry you. What's wrong with you anyhow? We just screwed on top of your new bike!” She slipped off and stood behind it, putting on her panties. He knew how to fuck. Jace did too. Maybe she should tell Fork she liked screwing both of them. Maybe he already knew.
"Darcy, you know how I feel about you. I just want you to be my ol' lady. Okay, don't marry me, just ride on the back of my bike so all the guys will say, there goes Fork with his ol' lady. Isn't he a lucky dude?"
"I don’t want your damn ring! Where'd you get it anyhow?"
"It was my grandmother's. I thought you'd like that it’s some heirloom." He bowed his head.
"Geesh, Fork. There's some girl somewhere who's gonna want this ring and she's gonna want you and you’re going to have a ton of kids and live in this big ol' house and…"
"Darcy,” he said, cutting her off, “I want you. Only you with that big house and the tons of kids."
"It just ain't gonna be. We’re buds. Buds, Fork. You, me and Jace. We’re the forever gang." She handed the box back to him.
He held the ring out in front of him. "Are you gonna marry Jace?"
"Hell no! I ain't gonna marry anyone! I’m fucking eighteen, and a free agent, Fork."
Fork had nodded and put the ring box in his leather jacket pocket. "As long as you aren't gonna marry Jace I can live with you saying no to me. I'm always here for you, Darcy. Always."
"I know, Fork. I know that."
But he lied. He wasn't here now! Always wasn't always! He's dead. The Chirons killed him. And for what? She felt the tears welling up in her eyes and she reached into her purse. Damn, I used the last tissue on Jace. Fork wouldn't have let that bastard Tubs get away with swinging his fist at me. She glanced in the mirror again. Her eyes narrowed and she whispered, "One day I'm going to kill you Tubs and it won't be pretty." She had come to the hospital for another x-ray of her ribs. He hadn't broken any of them this time. Why did she stay with him? Because she was a Chiron Knight? Her fingertips touched her bruised side and she winced. She touched her lips and thought of how good Jace’s mouth had felt on hers. She glanced toward the hospital doors as they opened and she watched Jace go in. Damn it! He’d come back! Now Jace didn’t have Fork to watch his back. Just me, and I practically sold you out, too. That's why I got bruised ribs and shoulder. They’d kill Jace next. She dug in her purse again and found a little silver box. She snapped it open, but it was practically empty except for a few small pinpoints of powder. She licked her finger and ran it along the edges of the box and then put her finger in her mouth like a lollipop.
She leaned back and half closed her eyes as she watched the hospital doors. She’d wait till Jace came out to make sure he was okay. She stared, half in a haze at the entrance, barely having a second thought to the large figure standing in the shadows by the hospital doors. She saw him but just didn’t care.
Chapter 9
The receptionist eyed Jace with suspicion. It was the old lady again with her glasses around her neck.
Doesn't she ever go home? He cleared his throat. "Excuse me?"
"You again? I'm sorry young man, I cannot let you in."
"I want to see Colleen O'Hara." He emphasized O'Hara. "She's my fiancée. Should I ask someone else to help me?"
The old lady's mouth dropped. It took her a moment to find her voice. "Well, uh, let me see here. She’s in intensive care. One visitor at a time. Let me see here if anyone is in there." She looked down and then back up, looking at him over her glasses. "No one's visiting her now, you can go in. Friends no longer than ten minutes, but family…" She paused. "Fiancé counts as family. You can stay fifteen minutes." She handed him a sticky tag to put on his shirt. "Remember, fifteen minutes. Room 3A."
He tried to walk silently down the corridor. His boots squeaked on the polished grey floor. He never liked hospitals. Besides the smell of alcohol that made him want to just run as fast as he could for an exit, there were the moans and groans echoing down the hallways coming out of the rooms and the calls for "nurse" every few minutes. He heard the intercom: Dr. Mathews, Dr. Morgan, Dr. Zeflin. Code Blue.
He paused outside room 3A and looked through the glass of Classic's room. The curtain draped around her bed. He began to shake. He tried not to think about the fact that he had just had a similar experience with Fork. He had gone into Fork's hospital room, expecting what? I wasn't prepared. I wasn't prepared to see my best friend turned into a turnip. I just can't face it if Classic is laying there in the same way. His hand touched the door to her room lightly, ready to swing it open.
A nurse came out with a mask covering her face. She pulled the mask down. "If you’re going in, there are boot covers, gown and mask at the desk." She smiled and bumped his shoulder as she whizzed past him.
He turned toward the nurses' station and found his voice, "Uh, I need a mask and stuff."
The nurse handed him the mask and the blue booties to cover his street shoes, in his case, his boots. He looked around for a chair to sit down and put them on. A nurse pointed to a small waiting room. He sat down and put the mask over his mouth, looping the elastic behind his ears. He leaned over to put the blue booties on and stopped. He began to breathe very quickly. I can't do this. What if she’s a vegetable? What if she’s some damn zucchini like Fork? Will I have to kill her, too? What th' fuck! I can't go in. I can't.
He stood up, threw the blue booties on the floor and raced passed a nurse holding out a blue gown for him to put on. He darted down the hallway toward the exit doors. He pushed passed a man with a cane and almost knocked him over. Shit, shit, shit! He ripped the name tag off of his chest and threw it in a wad on the shiny grey floor. He couldn't breathe. The grey walls were closing in. He felt his chest constricting.
He ran toward his bike and before he knew it, was cruising on Highway 15 headed towards Barstow. He buzzed around cars, weaving in and out of traffic. He tried lane splitting and then sped around an 18-wheeler who blasted his air horn at him.
"Asshole!" he screamed, as he slid in front of the big truck, closer than he should have. Faster and faster… 65, 75, 85, 95. He was a blur going down the highway, riding the white line, his engine whining as it passed car after car, the hot air pelting his face and pushing the hairs on his beard into his mouth. His brain just kept screaming, Shit, shit, shit!
Close behind him another motorcycle weaved in and out of traffic, hitting 95 and 100 on the speedometer. But Jace didn't see it. The whole world had turned into the humming whirring of his bike's engine an
d the road straight ahead of him and his mind screaming.
The brothers were all there. He saw the familiar faces. Stone, Quake, Earth, Wrangler, Stacks, Joey the Gypsy, Panhandler, and even Carbon. So many faces, all of them one big blur running into each other, tilted up to look at him as he entered the room, like expectant baby birds waiting for their big juicy worm. What am I going to say? What the hell am I going to do? He kept seeing Classic's arm exposed under that white curtain circling around her bed. What's going to happen to her other arm? What the fuck are they going to do with the other arm? Is she going to lose her fuckin' arm? He tried to focus on the faces in the room, but he kept seeing her there with a wad of needles in her arm. Her other arm a mass of bandages.
Something’s gotta give.
He looked at the Cerberus Legends. Old ones, young ones, new wannabes. Fat ones, thin ones, bearded ones, bald ones, long haired and short haired. He could write a fuckin’ Dr. Seuss book. He didn't smile at anyone, didn't even really see them. Fork should be here. He’s the one who should be standing in front of everyone.
Something’s gonna change. Tonight.
He took his place in the front, sitting behind a podium, hiding himself from their stares.
Mud fell into the seat next to him. "Did you get it outa your system dude?"
"Huh?" He rose an eyebrow at Mud. Was the guy smoking something?
"Ridin' here was one hairy ride." Mud grinned.
"You followed me?"
"Damn fuckin' right I did. I think you hit a record with those speeds." Mud's eyes were dark and were on the verge of accusation. "Thought for a moment you were trying to get out of your duty with the brothers. You’re the leader, you wear the stripes.” He straightened and looked out at the men. “You're here now, I guess that's what counts."
They both stared at the crowd of men in the room.
