Chapter 5 - Gage
“Ken, my frickin’ truck won’t start again.” Turning the key, I’m only rewarded with the telltale click, click, click. “I think the alternator is bad … again. I just bought a battery not long ago.”
“You really should buy a new truck. That thing is gonna nickel and dime you to death. How many times has it been in the shop in the last year?” He points to his Harley. “My Kawasaki is at Stephanie’s place. Want to borrow it?” We’ve been at his apartment watching the game, and I am about to head home. If I can get home.
“Yeah, sure. That would be great, but I’ve got warn you, I haven’t ridden one since I about killed my ass when I was a kid.”
Ken laughs. “I think we all have one of those ‘almost killed my ass’ stories,” he says as we walk back into his apartment to grab his truck keys.
“No shit,” I agree, and catch the bottle of water he tosses me. I drink half of it, then the rest in a long, gulping sip. It was too damn hot outside to be tinkering on a truck.
“So, what did you do?” he asks and tosses me another bottle. “Road rash from hell or end up with a tree up your ass?”
Following him from the apartment, I remember that terrible day. “I’d just turned sixteen and I had a little Enduro, a Suzuki 250. I used to ride the shit out of that bike.”
We pile in his truck, which feels like a sauna. “Go on,” he says, turning on the truck and rolling down the windows. He flips the air conditioner on high and I am blasted in the face with hot air.
“Yeah, thanks. Encouraging me to bring up my painful past.” I am joking, but silently shiver at the memory.
“Anyway, I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Rainbow, but not much has changed. All kinds of avocado farms, and I had to ride to Fallbrook to go to high school. That was about a ten mile drive. We had to take the bus to school. Not a big bus, one of those ten seaters. I hated it. Getting up early, getting home late. The day my father got me the motorcycle was heaven. Freedom at last. My mother hated it and claimed it was my father doing it just to piss her off.”
We are at a red light and I notice Ken staring over at me. I take another drink of water. “They divorced about a year earlier.” I grin over at him. “Don’t think it was the bike’s fault, it had been coming for years. Don’t ever … ever… stay married ‘for the sake of the children’.” I air quoted the words. “Divorce is better than living in hell.”
The light turns green as we move forward, then Ken slams on the brakes and a police cruiser hits his lights and siren and makes a u-turn, flooring it in the opposite direction.
“Anyway,” I continue, “back then, Highway 15 wasn’t built like it is today. It was Highway 395 back then, and the section between Rainbow and Fallbrook was called Blood Gap. There were no on-ramps. You basically had to haul ass out of the street onto the highway.”
“I was driving home from school one day in October. I still remember the date. October 13; it was a Friday.”
Ken snorts.
“Yeah, Friday the 13th. But of course, I was just a kid and thought old wives’ tales and superstitions were stupid. Not anymore.”
“I bet not.”
“Of course, I wasn’t thinking about it being the 13th or about which stretch of the road I was on. I had a date that night. Girl named Melissa, and I was crazy about her. I was hurrying to get home and shower so I could pick her up and …” I grin, remembering Melissa. I thought I was in love. I was such a dork.
“So …?” Ken urges me on.
“So, I was just passing the southern entrance to Rainbow and a truck pulled out in front of me. I slammed on the brakes, but there was no time. I couldn’t even swerve. I knew what was going to happen. Dead silence. Then the front fork hit the left side of the back bumper. One of the corrugated thick ass country truck kind. Seemed like it took forever for my leg to also hit the bumper as I somersaulted across the turn lane about ten feet. It was a complete 360. I was flying through the air, but not spinning anymore.” I laugh and finish off my bottle of water. “I felt like I was on a magic carpet ride. Sitting and watching the pavement go by.”
Ken pulls the steering wheel hard to the right and we pull into a fast food restaurant and get behind a line of cars at the drive-thru.
“Hungry?” I ask, not knowing how he could be. We killed a huge plate of nachos and half a dozen tacos each while watching the game.
“No. Thirsty as hell. Looks like you are too. What do you want?”
“Chocolate shake.” I pull out my wallet and toss him a couple dollars. He tosses them back at me and I leave them on the seat.
After he places our order, he looks at me expectantly. “What happened after the magic carpet ride?”
I grin. “I’m telling you, man. I was in the air so long, I watched the rear spring land in front of me. Then I saw these mailboxes. There were four of them on a board, held up by a four-by-four on each side. I remembered the judo class I had. I tried to will my body to miss them. Don’t think it worked because next thing I know, I’m waking up after being knocked out for don’t know how long. When I woke up, I was lying in the gravel. I thought for sure I had to be dead because, strangely, I felt no pain.”
I stop talking while Ken reaches for our shakes and pays the cute, blonde girl at the window. She blushes bright red when I give her a little wink. I take my shake and puncture the top with a straw, then take a big sip. Or try to.
“Damn it all to hell. Why do they have to make the shakes so fucking thick you can’t suck it through the fucking straw?”
Ken laughs and then his cheeks hollow in while he tries to suck up a drink. “Damned if I know,” he says with disgust and sits it in the cup holder to wait for it to melt. I don’t give up that easily. I take the lid off and use my straw as a spoon. The ice cream is brutally cold and delicious. Heaven.
“Since I can’t drink, you can’t either,” he grumbles. “Talk.”
I grin and shovel in another bite before continuing. “At some point, I sat up and as I pulled my right leg up, I noticed the rip in the lower leg. How the hell did I hit that bumper and only rip my pants, I remember wondering. There was no pain, but I noticed a tiny trickle of blood running down and that’s when I noticed it. I was going into shock and I saw the gash. It was about six-inches long and open to the bone. My shin was laid out like a perfect fillet. No pain, and almost no blood.”
As if the description of my injury had woken his own injury up, Ken leans forward and scratches the place on his leg that’d gotten cut open when a crazy man almost ran him down last year.
“I then noticed the motorcycle parts all around me,” I go on. “The spring, the bike itself was almost cut in two. Still don’t know how the hell I lived through it. The mailboxes were scattered for about ten feet. I figured the bike must have hit them. I still had my helmet on. I was starting to hear again and I noticed people coming out of the houses that were nearby.
“A hand grabbed my left hand and I heard a voice telling me to ‘lie down, you’ll be fine, we called the ambulance.’ It was my friend’s sister, Barb; she was hot and a couple of years older than me. I didn’t mind holding her hand, that’s for sure.” I laugh at the memory. “You’ll love this. I took another look at my leg and asked her if I was going to lose my leg. She started crying and that’s when the pain hit.”
Ken laughs. “Bet you thought it was a goner for sure.”
I nod. “Damn straight. Turns out, it wasn’t my bike that broke the mailboxes. My right foot went right the fuck through one of the four-by-fours.”
“Shit.”
“Shit is right; guess it was better than my head. I could feel my shoe getting tighter. It was like a knife twisting and turning and stabbing all at the same time.”
I don’t tell Ken, but I cried like a little boy. Barb wiped the tears off my face. I’d thought she was hot before; she was like a goddess after that.
We are close to Stephanie’s house now and it is time to wrap up the story. “The amb
ulance came and the rest is a blur. I remember my mother coming to the hospital thinking I had just cut myself and then her look of surprise when the doctor showed her the x-rays of my foot. All told, I had seventy stitches on my shin and three displaced fractures in my foot. I was on a shit load of pain meds and had a cool cast for about six months. Haven’t been on a bike since.”
“Damn, dude, that sucks. You gonna be okay getting back up on that horse?”
I nod. “Yeah, no problem. I always planned to ride again, so I kept up my license. Just never bought another one. Might be a little rusty to start, but I’m sure it’ll come back to me.”
“Yeah … like riding a bike,” he smirks. “Come back by my place tomorrow and we’ll get your truck back to the shop, see if they can patch it up again. Seriously, you really need to think about trading.”
My ice cream is finally melted enough to almost be a shake. I stick the lid back and slurp at the straw again, this time with a little success.
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Maybe get a Jeep this time, something like Beth’s. I love that thing.”
“You should,” Ken agrees. “Then you two would have matching cars.”
I shoot him a look. “Well, that just sold me off the idea. Thanks a lot. She’d freak the fuck out if she thought I did anything that might even smell like we were a matching anything.”
Ken slaps the steering wheel, roaring with laughter. “That is true. That girl is something else.”
I snort. “You don’t know the half of it. We’ve been hooking up for, what, eight, nine months now? She still has no trust. Still won’t let go of the reins. It’s getting a little annoying — a lot annoying, actually.”
We pull into Steph’s driveway and head back to the garage. He throws the truck into park, but doesn’t kill the engine. Turning to me, he looks at me with all seriousness. “Don’t give up on her. She’s special.”
I suck at my straw and remember sucking at her tits. My dick twitches. “Yeah, I know that. There’s so much to like about her, but …”
“But?”
“But I can’t see it working out. I’m not some little pansy ass who follows a woman around and does what she says.” I smirk at him. “Like you.”
Ken rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe this is coming out of my mouth because, as you know, a year ago I was as anti-relationship as anyone. But … man, having that one woman that fits you like a glove … it’s …” he blows out a breath, “special, and sexier than all those women I used to fuck.”
I think about that for a minute and do a quick comparison between Stephanie and Beth. Stephanie is sweet and loving, a caretaker who makes certain everyone around her is okay. She’s beautiful and strong, but in a really gentle, wallflower kind of way.
Then there’s Beth, who walks into a room and takes it over with her sass and spirit. She’s beautiful, and sexy, and funny. Damn funny. And strong. Maybe too strong. I worry that she’s like one of those trees that get broken in half because they are too rigid. It’s only the trees that bend with the wind a little that survive.
Because I’ve said nothing for a full minute, Ken goes on. “Even if the one isn’t Beth, are you feeling serious about any of those other women you’re screwing around with?”
I bark out a laugh. “No. They aren’t exactly the type you bring home to momma. Besides, I’ve told you a thousand times, I don’t want to be in a relationship. I have too much ahead of me, too many plans to have an anchor weighing me down.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. You want a girl in every port. You want to fuck your way around the world.”
“Damn straight I do,” I say. “What’s wrong with that?”
Ken sighs and shakes his head. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Just don’t hurt Beth, because it’ll be damn awkward if you two hate each other while being bridesmaid and best man at our wedding next year.”
I scoff. “So you really don’t care who I’m screwing; you just don’t want me and Beth glaring at each other from across the aisle.”
“Exactly. I’ll kick your ass myself if you do.”
We both laugh and for a moment I can imagine Beth throwing a bouquet of flowers at me while the priest is telling Ken to kiss his bride. Or, maybe she’d wait and trip me, making me fall into the cake. It makes me laugh harder.
“What’s so funny?” Ken asks and shuts off the truck.
I just shake my head. “Nothing.” Then I see Stephanie step out onto the back deck and wave at us. Ken’s face just about splits open as he waves back.
I roll my eyes and open my door to avoid the syrupy sweetness of their reunion. Then Beth steps out on the deck too and I feel my face break open in a wide smile too.
Chapter 6 – Beth
It has only been a few days since I’ve seen him, but I have to blow out a breath when he steps from Ken’s truck. Damn. So fine. Even in a ratty t-shirt and ball shorts.
He walks straight to me while Steph bounces off to jump into Ken’s arms. I can’t help but smile at those two, at the joy that so obviously surrounds them.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I echo his greeting and dust off my shorts. Steph and I have just gotten back from HEAL where we’d been painting my office. Cleaning the walls and floors following the break-in hasn’t been enough. I begged her to help me paint, really give the office a fresh start. I am still considering having the tiles replaced.
He looks at me funny and steps closer, touching my hair. I look down and groan. Paint. The sunny yellow is a stark contrast against my dark locks.
“New hair style inspired by Hannah?” he teases, then frowns and looks, rubs at what must be yellow on my cheek. “Or yellow spotted fever maybe?”
I sigh and confess. “It’s paint. I wanted to freshen up my office.”
He gives me a knowing look. “Great idea and great color, although you might need to wear sunglasses in there if this color is any indication.”
I laugh. “Yeah, it’s a lot brighter than it looked on the paint chip.”
He pulls me to his chest and gives me a hug. “On a positive note, you could plant tomatoes in there, have a greenhouse.”
I listen to the rumble of laughter in his chest and give him a tight squeeze. After a few moments, I pull away. “What are you doing here, anyway?” Watching hurt flash across his features for the briefest of seconds, I quickly add. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Truck’s fucked up again. Ken’s loaning me his bike.”
My eyes grow wide. “He’s loaning you his precious Harley?”
“No way. The older one, the Kawasaki.”
“Oh, I love that bike. He was teaching me and Steph to ride it a few weeks ago.”
He runs a hand through his hair and nods. I hate this. Hate how stiff we can be with each other sometimes. This past weekend, it was so natural, so comfortable. Now, it’s like we don’t know how to act with each other. I glance over to Steph and Ken and see them talking so easily, holding hands and laughing. Totally comfortable with each other.
“Want to stay for dinner?” I ask, unable to think of anything else to break this odd coldness that has fallen between us.
He puts a hand to his stomach and shakes his head. “Ate at Ken’s place; thank you though.”
Damn. “How about a dip in the pool? It’s so hot out here, it would feel good before your ride home?” Shit. It sounds like I’m begging. I lift my chin. “But it doesn’t matter to me, swelter if you want.”
Oh my god! What’s wrong with me? I’m in bitch mode again.
He looks over at the crystal clear water and then down at his shorts and back up at me. His face changes, morphing into that of a little boy.
Oh no.
I turn and try to run, but he catches me easily and tosses me over his shoulder.
“Don’t you do it!” I scream, the words pressing out of my lungs in bumpy syllables as he runs with me.
“Do what?” he yells back.
“Don’t you dare throw—“
Splash!
I’m in the pool, water going up my nose as he drags me to the bottom. I beat my fists against his ass and he lets me go, following me to the surface.
I sputter and cough, but laugh when he splashes me in the face. Game on!
For the next ten minutes, I try to get the better of him and get in a couple of pretty good shots. But mostly, I’m nearly drowned by the time I call a time-out and head to the side of the pool.
“Do you concede to my superiority at pool play, wench?” he asks, grinning at me like a fool.
“Never,” I say, but scream and turn when he starts splashing me again.
When the fighting stops, I feel him come up behind me and press me into the tiles. He’s hard and his erection feels warm against my back. He nuzzles my ear, licking into it, making me shiver.
I turn in his arms, needing his lips and wrap my legs around his waist. My press my sex against his, wishing we were naked.
“Hey you two, knock it off.” It’s Stephanie, a grin in her voice.
Gage lifts his head, wrenching his lips from mine, breathing hard. “And if we don’t?” he asks in a challenge.
Steph sticks her hands on her hips and looks him directly in the eye. “Then you get to clean the spermy water.”
Gage ends up staying for dinner, seemingly reluctant to leave our — my? — company. The guys grill the steaks while Stephanie and I cut up a salad and make twice baked potatoes.
Through the large window, I can see Gage and Ken in deep conversation. Ken keeps shaking his head, while Gage grins and seems to give him hell. At one point, Ken points the spatula in his face and shakes his head again.
“What are they doing?” I ask Steph and she just lifts a shoulder and rolls her eyes.
I keep watching them and see the moment Ken concedes to whatever it is Gage wants him to do.
“Hey, are you helping or watching?” she asks me and shoos Onyx away for the twentieth time. Ghost sits smugly on his bar stool, looking down snootily at the dog. Onyx’s ears flatten and she looks pitifully hurt that she can’t participate in the cooking.
Ashes - Book 1 Page 4
