Wheelie’s Challenge

by Chiah Wilder

  Wheelie: Ya. I’ll get the tixs.

  There was nothing he wanted to do more at that moment than take Sofia out to dinner and watch her smile.

  Sofia: Thx. You’re a sweet and good man.

  I don’t think Banger would agree or the other brothers, but fuck it.

  Wheelie: I hope you’re smiling right now.

  Sofia: I am!!! :)

  He laughed and closed his eyes, picturing her green ones sparkling and a huge grin spread across her face. That’s what he wanted for her: happiness and peace.

  Wheelie: Gotta go. If shit happens, call me. I’ll come right over.

  Sofia: Thx. I’m being extra good so I should be fine. U made me so happy!

  He pressed his lips together.

  Wheelie: See ya.

  Sofia: Bye.

  The phone went silent, and he slipped it into the inner pocket of his cut then started his bike. A long, fast ride that buried him in the wind and the landscape was what he needed.

  He turned left, out of the car wash’s lot, and made his way toward the two-lane road that cut through the valley.

  Chapter Five

  Two prison guards led Russ Elmore down the corridors, the shackles around his wrists and ankles hampering his gait. After two hours of bureaucratic BS, the guards escorted him into a small room, keeping watch over him as he removed his light blue prison shirt and dark blue denim pants stenciled with CDCR PRISONER in large yellow print. Elmore quickly donned the clothes his girlfriend had sent him: black jeans and a red plaid button down shirt.

  “Let’s get going,” one of the guards said, prodding Russ Elmore to speed it up.

  They walked him back to the Receiving and Releasing desk, and the clerical guard gave him his property: two hundred dollars in gate money, which prisoners received before release, one hundred dollars earned during incarceration, and five boxes of legal paperwork he’d accumulated over the past nine years.

  Still in handcuffs and ankle chains, Elmore shuffled to the mini-bus where the two men helped him inside then threw in the five boxes. The bus squeaked and groaned as it went over speed bumps until it finally came to a stop outside the prison. The guards took off the shackles and stacked the five boxes on the side of the road. The air carried the threat of rain, and sweat poured down Russ Elmore’s back as he glanced around, squinting against the hazy glare of the sun overhead.

  A gleaming bronze Buick waited several feet ahead of him. The car door opened and a woman in her early thirties slipped out of the vehicle, the breeze blowing through her shoulder-length blonde hair. Elmore smiled as he ran his eyes over her slender figure encased in tight white capris and a skimpy turquoise top. A surge of lust ran through him as she walked slowly toward him.

  He picked up two of the boxes and met her halfway. “Back up the car so I can put this shit in the trunk,” he said.

  In less than ten minutes, he had her in his arms, his calloused hands squeezing her tits. “Let’s go to the motel first then we can go to IHOP and I can finally have some decent food.” She moaned when he pinched her nipples, then she pulled away and started up the car.

  Russ had met Mallory Levin through a pen-pal site. His sister had filled out the application before telling him about it. To his amazement, he started receiving letters from women all over the country, but the photo of a cute blonde in a bikini that left little to his imagination was the one that got him to take pen to paper. He and Mallory had communicated for about a year before she told him she’d inherited some money from her parents and that she was moving to California from Rhode Island to be closer to him.

  And here they were. No more two-second hugs in a visiting room. He could hold Mallory as much as he wanted and it felt damn good. After pleading guilty to voluntary manslaughter and spending nine years in prison, Elmore couldn’t really believe he was out. Everything seemed so bright and colorful despite the sky turning overcast. The noise jarred him as semi-trucks, motorcycles, and cars whizzed by them on the freeway. It would take time for him to adjust, but having Mallory by his side would make it easier. Her financial assistance while he was inside kept his ass from getting beatdowns many times, and now he could relax a little while she brought in the money from the real estate business she’d started in San Diego a few years before.

  “You got a joint on you?” he asked, settling back as he stared straight ahead.

  “Here you go, baby.” She handed him one, along with a lighter then ran her fingers through his hair. “I can’t wait to show you how much I love you.”

  Elmore grasped her hand and kissed it. “That’s what I like to hear. Put on some music.”

  As the radio played, he closed his eyes. He’d been up since four that morning, the adrenaline pushing him through, but now exhaustion had set in. They would drive for about an hour and find a motel in San Jose where they’d stop for the night, and then they’d make their way down the coast, spending nights in seaside towns until they made it to San Diego. Mallory had mapped it out. It was like she was trying to cram seven years of longing into six days, and after some good fucking and a decent meal, all Russ wanted to do was chill. Locked up inside for so long had changed him. He couldn’t just act like it was business as usual; it’d take time to get acclimated. In prison it was always loud, and he never had any peace or quiet. Now, all around him was color and freedom, and it was overwhelming.

  You just remember that no matter what happens, the minute your ass is free, I’m gonna come and kill you. You’ll never have peace, you motherfucker. Elmore’s eyes snapped open and his body jerked off the seat. Wheelie’s voice was so loud and clear, he’d thought for a minute that his brother-in-law was in the car.

  Mallory’s cool hand stroked the side of his face. “You okay, baby? Did you have a bad dream?”

  “Yeah … something like that.” Wheelie’s hard gray eyes burned into his brain, and a cold shiver rode down his spine. He’s gonna know I’m out. The fucking system’s gonna tell him that I’ll be on parole in San Diego. I’ll have to look over my shoulder. Three years parole is gonna be damn long with that sonofabitch gunning for me.

  “You sure you’re good?” Mallory threw him a quick smile, but concern laced her eyes.

  “Yeah. I’m just tired. It’s been a long morning.” Just shut the fuck up. I gotta think here.

  “Should we go to a motel now so you can sleep?” Her gaze darted to the freeway signs.

  Russ Elmore sighed loudly. “No. Let’s just stick to the plan.”

  “Okay, baby. Anything you want. Isn’t it beautiful with the ocean. The Pacific is different from the Atlantic. When I was little, my grandma had …”

  He tuned her out and turned his head toward the window. Wheelie’s not the type to forget shit. I wonder if he’s still in that biker gang. Pressing his forehead against the cool window, he watched the landscape blur by. I gotta stay a few steps ahead of him … unless I take care of him first. Russ had made a few contacts while incarcerated, and he might just look one or two of them up. He glanced at Mallory as she babbled on. Having a felony conviction means money doesn’t come easily. I’m sure Tucker or Jeremiah can use the cash. Maybe I won’t have to look over my shoulder after all, but I’ll need to get the money to pay them. Again he looked at Mallory, a smile spreading over his face. She’ll do anything for me.

  “That’s so interesting, sweetheart,” he said, leaning over and planting a kiss on her cheek. “Tell me more about what you used to do in Providence.”

  As the Buick sped down the freeway, he feigned interest in Mallory’s stories while his mind concocted a plan ensuring his survival and Wheelie’s demise.

  Chapter Six

  Sofia watched as Tigger sprinkled some of the cologne she’d given him for Christmas into his hands and ran them over his face, neck, and shaved head. The scent of mulberry, spice, and cedar used to lure her in and make her tingle all over, but for the past few years, it made her insides tangle in knots because all of his effort was meant for other women and not h
er. That night, it didn’t bother her that he wore his new pair of jeans, or took extra care in shaving his face and head, because all she could think about was whether Wheelie was going to pick up one of the women who frequented the club’s parties on Saturday nights. Even though he’d told her he wasn’t with any woman, Wheelie was still a man, and a well-built woman who was more than willing to have some fun would prove to be difficult to pass up—even for the most resolute man.

  Sofia chewed on the dry skin around her thumb. She noticed how women stared at Wheelie and tried to get his attention, and she figured there’d be a lot of ladies at the party since members from many of the Insurgents chapters were going to be there. Of course, Tigger hadn’t shared that information with her, she’d heard it from Doris who’d called her earlier that day to ask how she was doing. At first Sofia had thought it was odd Doris had called her since she’d never done it before, but when she slipped Wheelie into the conversation, a ton of alarms went off inside Sofia’s head, and she’d pretended that something was burning in the oven.

  “Whatcha thinking about?” Tigger asked as he slipped on his cut.

  “Nothing, really. Are you gonna crash at the club tonight?”

  Tigger tensed, his brown eyes narrowing. “Why? You got someone coming over?”

  Instantly, Sofia was on guard. “No. I just don’t want to worry that you were in an accident or something if you don’t come home, that’s all.”

  He stared at her for several seconds as her nerves tangled and twisted in knots, then he went over to the dresser and grabbed a set of keys. “I don’t know. I heard the old ladies are getting together at Banger’s house later tonight.”

  Nausea washed over her. “Yeah. I think it’s just for pizza and some wine. Cara said she’d pick me up.”

  Tigger sneered. “Did she now? Call her up and tell her you can’t go.”

  Lowering her eyes, she focused on his black engineer boots. “Why can’t I go?” she whispered.

  “Because I said so, moron. Anyway, Cara, Belle, Kimber, and pretty much all of the old ladies make fun of you behind your back. I don’t want you to get hurt by them. They pretend to be your friend, but they think you’re pathetic and boring.”

  She jerked her head up and met his cold gaze. “I never got that vibe from them.”

  “But you’re not very smart, remember? I’m the one that has to handle everything.”

  Because you want to keep me down. “But Cara’s always texting or calling me to see how I am and just to chat. Why would she do that if she didn’t like me?”

  “Because she’s a fuckin’ bitch. After she talks to you, she tells the other old ladies something stupid you said, and they all laugh behind your back. I hear them at the club when they come by or have one of their lame meetings.” Tigger crossed his arms over his chest. “At first I really liked Cara and Belle, but when I heard them turning the other old ladies against you by telling them a bunch of fuckin’ lies, I was so pissed. I went to Hawk and Banger and told them I wasn’t gonna tolerate that shit against my wife. They said they’d talk to them, but when I heard them still spewing shit about you, I knew Hawk and Banger were pussies when it came to their women.” He walked over to her and lifted his hand. She flinched and he chuckled then stroked the side of her face. “I just don’t want you to get hurt by a bunch of vicious bitches who are jealous of you, sweetcakes. You know I love you too much. I just want to protect you. Go ahead and text Cara and tell her you’re not feeling well.”

  I can’t believe Cara or Belle or any of the other women would say shit about me behind my back. Tigger had been undermining her relationships with friends and family since they got married. He’d plant seeds of doubt then water them until she began to question her loved ones. When Tigger had gone to prison, her mother had bad-mouthed him and started fights with her, and after Sofia had told him about it when she’d visited him in Canon City, he’d used that to show her he’d been right about her mom, or her friends … or whomever. At the time she’d believed him, but now she knew it was his way of isolating her from anyone close to her, and it’d worked. She’d been estranged from her mother and brothers for years and had cut off all contact with her friends from high school. He’s trying to do it to me again—this time with the old ladies.

  Tigger picked up her phone on the bed and handed it to her. “Text Cara now. Tell her you can’t talk because you got laryngitis. You don’t need to talk to someone like that anyway.”

  “She’s not going to believe that. I just spoke to her this morning.”

  Whack! The sting of his hand across her face brought tears to her eyes. “Stop talking back to me! I told you what to do. Fucking do it!”

  “Okay … okay,” she mumbled as she found Cara’s name. The last thing she wanted was to make him madder than he already was. I can’t wait for you to leave in two days. Having six Tigger-free days felt like she’d won the lottery.

  Cara: I’m so sorry you’re sick! We’re all going to miss u.

  “Bullshit! She’s such a fuckin’ phony,” Tigger said as he read Cara’s response. “Tell her you’ll see her another time.”

  Sophia sent the message then put down her phone and went into the bathroom. Turning on the cold water, she looked at her reflection in the mirror: a clear, red imprint of a hand marked the right side of her face. She ran a washcloth under the water then put it on her cheek to soothe the burning.

  “Come say goodbye to me, sweetcakes.”

  Her stomach rolled over as she turned off the water then shuffled into the living room. Tigger pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard then smacked her butt a little too hard. “You better be good tonight.” He tugged her behind him then let go of her hand as he went into the garage.

  She stood in the doorway and saw him open the SUV’s door. “Aren’t you taking your motorcycle?”

  “Yeah. I’m just jotting down the miles to make sure they’re the same when I get home. I’m gonna do it with the truck too.” Tigger glanced at her then tapped something into his phone. After recording the numbers on the odometer, he jumped on his bike and looked at her. “Don’t do anything to piss me off.” His voice was dark and ominous. The roar of the bike’s cams filled the garage, then he reversed onto the driveway and sped away.

  Sofia closed the garage door and went into the kitchen to pour a big glass of white wine, then she walked out to the back patio and sank down on the oversized wicker chair. A gentle breeze blew, whistling softly through the leaves on the maple tree in the corner of the backyard. It was so green and warm outside, and as she took a sip of wine, sadness gripped her. Maybe it was the way the sunlight filtered through the trees, the scent of freshly mown grass, or the long days after a bitterly cold winter, but she yearned for the warmth of days at the lake, lazy Sunday picnics, and romance just like in the damn fairytales she used to read when she was young.

  Sofia took another gulp of her drink. But you learned a long time ago fairytales were full of shit. Images of her father beating the crap out of her mother skittered through her mind. You used to blame Mom for staying with Dad, and now look at you … getting the shit beaten out of you by a man who says he loves you. Fucking pathetic. Maybe the old ladies really do see me as a dumbass. Restlessness entwined around her spine and she stood up and went over to the garden she’d recently planted. Sofia longed for something new and different. She was so sick of her life, and if nothing changed, she’d be stuck in it forever. “You must make a choice to take a chance or your life will never change,” she said under her breath. She’d read the saying on the black metal door of the bathroom stall at Steeler’s a few months before. The words resonated with her and she’d memorized them. A sudden beep from her phone startled her. Dreading a smug text from Tigger, she waited a few seconds before looking at the screen. A smile spread across her face as butterflies fluttered in her belly. Wheelie!

  Wheelie: How come u didn’t go to Belle’s tonite?

  Sofia started to type in that she didn’t feel w
ell but stopped instead to take a sip of wine, noticing two birds fly past the tree, their blue wings bright against the fading sunlight.

  Sofia: Tigger didn’t want me to. He made up some BS about the old ladies not liking me.

  She pressed SEND—another act of betrayal. First kissing Wheelie then revealing the true shit Tigger says behind closed doors. She laughed nervously. I’m on a fucking roll. In many ways, she knew Tigger would consider what she’d just told Wheelie as being one of the worst acts of disloyalty.

  Wheelie: I’m glad u know it’s BS. The old ladies really like u.

  She smiled. “You’re always building me up when Tigger tears me down,” she said out loud.

  Sofia: Thx. :)

  Wheelie: U want me to come over?

  Oh, how she would love to be in his strong arms, watching the sun slip behind the mountains, listening to the cries of the birds as they flew overhead, and feeling the soft touch of his fingers as he caressed her bare skin, but it was too risky. If Tigger ever caught them, he’d kill them both.

  Sofia: Too risky.

  Wheelie: He’s getting pretty shit faced.

  Sofia: Don’t tempt me. Anyway, I’d be too nervous.

  Wheelie: I shouldn’t have asked. I’m getting shit faced too.

  Sofia: I’m happy u did. U having fun?

  Wheelie: It’s too fuckin’ crowded. But good to catch up with dudes I haven’t seen in a long time.

  Sofia: :)

  Wheelie: Better go. Later.

  Sofia: Bye.

  She blinked rapidly then picked up the wine glass and drained it. A rush of defiance ran through her: She’d order a pizza with extra cheese and pepperoni and get blitzed. Of course, she’d throw the pizza box in the trashcan down the alley and make sure she lit some scented candles so Tigger wouldn’t smell the evidence when he came home in the morning.