She takes her change, giving me a disgusted look, calling her children and surprisingly leaves without a word. Bitch.
I clean up what her children decided to destroy and go back to flipping through a new magazine. Ever since the card readers were put in at the pumps, barely anyone comes into the actual store any more. That’s good and bad, as in no one to talk to and boring.
The rumble of motorcycles in the distance catches my attention and I turn to the window hoping like hell that I’m wrong. Hoping that my gut, which knots and twists, is a fat out liar. The noise grows closer until single headlights shine directly at me, then turn into the station. All together in one perfect uniform as if it’s breathing to them.
My eyes dart to every one of the Harley’s and my breath leaves me when I see the Ruthless Rebels MC. Shamus, Lurch, Clover, Oscar, Grinder and DJ, as he now goes by, Dixon James Cartwright the fucking dickhead. I can’t stop watching him though, as he parks his bike and gets out to pump gas into his tank. Luckily, he slides his card in the reader and I let out a little sigh of relief.
He’s not coming in here. Thank God.
The guys around him do the same and they’re off. I shake off the unnerving feel that always comes with seeing DJ. Why can’t he just disappear? Hell, why can’t I just disappear.
This story continues on in Shamed! Avaiable now!
Below The Line Page 14
