Burnout

by Stacia Leigh

  “Sorry, too much caffeine this afternoon.” She slid the key card and Miki’s credit card across the counter. “Room number eight, the honeysuckle room, on the end. Checkout is noon.”

  Honeysuckle? Oh, baby, she could handle that. At least it wasn’t the bleeding heart or the touch-me-not room. Miki tucked the plastic cards into her back pocket and pushed out into the parking lot to stand over Will. His mouth was slack, and his eyelashes rested on his cheekbones. Miki sighed. Why’d she have to like him again? She nudged him with her boot. Gentle, since he hadn’t even been out of the hospital a full day.

  “Water,” he croaked.

  “I can’t carry you, Will. Get up, so I can help you to the room.”

  He took his sweet time easing into a sitting position and pulled up his knees. When he finally stood, Miki wedged herself under his right arm and hugged his waist to keep him steady as they stumbled out of sync down the breezeway.

  She’d finally have Will alone in a room all to herself, but instead of getting her honeysuckle on, she’d probably sit there like a lunatic and watch him as he slept. Or watch bad TV until the sun went down. Or worse, worry about Pinecone’s multiple problems from her matted hair to her cagey behavior when she heard Will’s name. Miki did a mental shrug. Maybe she’d do all three, simultaneously.

  Miki keyed into the room and guided Will to the queen bed. Of course, the first thing he did after tossing his helmet was crawl across the brown bedspread at an angle, hogging the whole thing. Oh, well, guess they’d have to snuggle. A real hardship.

  “Feelsh good,” Will mumbled into a pillow as he turned onto his side with the dirty soles of his shoes hanging over the edge.

  Great. Stinky foot duty. Will’s sweaty socks had to smell better than this place. It reeked of trapped exhaust fumes and old dirt from a vacuum cleaner. She tugged his boot free and dropped it beside the bed.

  The room was dark and small with heavy brown drapes blocking a single window. Outside noise, like cars whizzing down the freeway, someone showering in the unit on the left, and bed springs bouncing from the unit on the right, made their room seem like a cozy cubbyhole. A calm spot surrounded by activity.

  Miki traced Will’s sock up his pant leg and peeled the top down slowly over of his rough, scabby skin. She stopped at the sight of his dark purple pinkie toe.

  “Thanks, Cute Nurse,” Will murmured with his eyes closed.

  “What?” Miki pulled her hand back. “Hey…Will.” But he was dead to the world, snoring softly.

  She eased away from the foot of the bed to stand next to him. He had such a baby face with no whiskers, only smooth, flawless skin and a beauty mark on his cheek that any girl would kill for. How’d he get so lucky? She stooped and sifted her fingers through his silky soft hair, and her heart fluttered in her chest like a million helicopter seeds falling out of a maple tree.

  She’d always liked him, ever since she was a little kid. She did everything to catch his attention. First she’d told him dirty jokes. Then she’d tried to make him jealous by “liking” other guys. Then she’d worn tight tank tops with short skirts. She’d tried flipping her hair this way and that, and she’d caught him looking at her a couple times, but he would never take it to the next level. Why not? What’d a girl have to do?

  She wanted to throttle him more than she wanted to let him nap, but the saddle bags had to be hauled in, and a pizza had to be ordered. They could rest, eat, then maybe hit the road, dark be damned. Pinecone fumbling around behind the desk, acting like she didn’t know Will, it all seemed sort of peculiar.

  Miki had definitely been hanging around the Hides of Hell clubhouse too much. Now she was starting to think like a biker, and her radar said something was off. Discounts and passwords? What was all that about? And who the hell was Smiley?

  CHAPTER 7: Lucky Break

  Will rolled over, and a spring poked him in the back. Where was he? This wasn’t his bed at home, and it wasn’t the peach floral couch, either. When he breathed in, hints of anise filled his nose. A Miki dream.

  She giggled, and it echoed somewhere in his head. Through the fog he could see her smiling and holding out something in her palm. A pair of erotic dice she’d found somewhere in the clubhouse, but she refused to say where. What if they were his dad’s? Stop!

  His dream, his rules.

  Okay, one die had actions: Kiss, Suck, Lick, Spank, Bite, and Rub. The other had places: Lips, Butt, Nipples, Thighs, Ankles, and Ears.

  The closet dream. Will rolled the dice and…

  Spank ankles?

  No, he would roll something sweet and normal because it’s the kind of guy he was, not someone who spanked or even licked ankles. It was a leg joint, a basic body part. What was so erotic about them anyway? No, it was Miki’s ears. Her thick hair always covered them, but once or twice, she’d pulled her mane back into a ponytail, and he’d witnessed her earlobes, dainty and soft. They rarely saw the light of day like forbidden flesh, and being a sweet guy, they’re where he’d start. Then he’d work his way down. Oh, yeah.

  The dice clattered around in his mind, coming to a stop on Bite and Ears. Finally, something he could work with.

  Last time they’d been in the closet, they’d been vertical, leaning against the wall. But now he was horizontal, and he had Miki tucked in close. He rolled his head toward her, and his nose met her hair. It smelled like some girly shampoo. Something flowery, but he’d call it black licorice because this was his dream, and even though he didn’t necessarily prefer the taste or the smell, he liked it on her. Her tongue swirled around the heaping scoop of black ice cream.

  Whoa. This was the closet dream, not the Zombie Lips dream.

  Okay.

  He puckered his lips and nibbled his way deeper into her hair until he found an earlobe. He sucked it between his lips. She sighed. Or was it a moan? Oh, God, this was getting good. He sucked again, and she giggled. He smiled. Her ears were perfect.

  He rolled into her, his leg bending to entwine with hers. Ow! Pain, cracking scabs. They were probably bleeding.

  Don’t worry about it. Get back to the good stuff.

  Right…

  His hand coasted up her hip, nice and round, then up over her t-shirt to her ribs. He rested it there in neutral territory. Should he head to the front for more forbidden flesh? Or stay sweet and head to her back? This was his dream, so he could do whatever he wanted, right? In the closet last year, she had let him touch her, so his palm drifted between them and cupped her boob while her hot little hands roamed under his shirt, over his back, to his stomach, then down the front of his pants…

  “Oh, God.” Will opened his eyes, and the room was dark except for the street lights glowing through the gap between the drawn curtains. He was on top of the real Miki, panting in her face. “I’m sorry,” he said, his cheeks flaring with heat. He tried to roll away, but her arms hugged him.

  “Don’t be,” she whispered. “Do you have a condom?”

  “A what? Oh, uh…” Seriously? He was getting the green light to go to fourth base? His first time. With Miki Holtz. And…no rubber. Will turned onto his back and groaned. Wow…some bad luck right there. “No. No condom,” he said, staring at the water stains on the ceiling.

  “We could do other things, you know.” Miki scooted closer. Her warm breath touched his neck, and her lips followed. She kissed him. It was so sweet.

  Will tilted his chin to study her dark eyes, her tousled blue hair against his shoulder, the v-neck of her t-shirt. Oh, yeah. Color him interested. He did a mental check on his well-being. His guts felt fine, his arm was kinda heavy, and his scabs were…crispy. Okay, they might be a problem, but otherwise, he could totally get busy.

  Will, this is your mother speaking.

  Or not.

  Remember what happened after the closet? Remember how she made you feel? Now, I wasn’t there, and I know absolutely nothing about it, but I’m a part of you, Will. You thought she liked you! You’re nothing special to her. Seconds af
ter the closet door opened, she humiliated you in front of everyone. What will happen this time, now that she’s got you in a hotel room, panting on all fours—

  Try three-point-five, Mom. I’ve got a cast.

  Don’t get smart. Find yourself a sweet girl, Will. Someone you can trust.

  “Miki…when we’re in the dark, everything’s great. No lie…it’s hot.” He couldn’t move away because she was nestled tightly under his arm between his ribs and his cast. “But what happens when the lights come on?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.” She leaned on her elbow and smiled down at him.

  “I think we want different things. You’re like the eye of a storm—”

  “Oh, my God, Will.” Miki pressed a palm to her face. “Please tell me you’re only playing.” She dropped her hand and sat up. “Are you seeing someone? Do you know a girl named Pinecone by any chance?”

  “Pine what? No, I’m not seeing anyone. I only mean I’m a low-key kinda guy, and it seems like being with you is not easy.”

  “How can you say that? I’m the easiest person you can get, Will, I’m right here. God.” She shook her head. “I feel like I’ve been chasing you forever, and if you’d stop running and open your eyes, maybe you’d see the real me.” Her voice hitched, then lowered. “Well, it doesn’t get much easier than that, does it?”

  “There’s your problem. You’re using up a lot of energy chasing guys who don’t want to be chased. Haven’t you ever heard of the law of least effort?”

  “Laws.” She snorted.

  “Okay, so why’d you cut your hair and dye it blue?”

  “I wanted to piss off my dad.” Miki shrugged. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Figures.” Will scoffed. Here we go, back to President Leo and the biker scene. “You made it all about him and not yourself. Did he even care?”

  “No.” Miki frowned. “He didn’t seem to notice.”

  “A lot of effort for no return.”

  “You know what? I happen to like my hair,” Miki snapped.

  “I’m not judging.” Will opened his palm to her as a sign of peace. “All I’m sayin’ is it seems like you try too hard. Your dad only gives a crap about—”

  “So in your world, how would I get your attention? Huh? Are you telling me to pretend I don’t care? Pretend I’m not interested? Been there, done that.”

  Rule number one—he didn’t chase anyone. If someone liked him, all they had to do was show it, and if he liked them back, he’d do the same. Boom. Easy. Not to mention a little loyalty went a long way. It wasn’t too much to ask for, now was it?

  “No,” he said warily. He was lying on his back at her mercy and at a serious disadvantage and…what the hell were they talking about anyway? His world consisted of his mom popping into his head right in the middle of a good time. It only proved he was crazy. “Uh…I’m not ready for this. I can’t…” Will shook his head and leaned up. He inched away and flung out the first thing coming to mind. “You might not believe this, but liking you only invites trouble.”

  “Trouble! How can you say that?”

  Boom!

  The room echoed. What the hell was that?

  Boom!

  The door shook and splintered.

  Wham!

  It flew open, bouncing off the flimsy wall, and Miki screamed as chips of wood fell onto the carpet.

  “Jesus!” Will yelped and pulled himself up on his elbows. The lights flicked on, and he raised his cast to block the eye-burn from the lamp. He blinked and blinked again, then dropped his arm and glanced around the room, taking in all the hairy faces. What the hell were they doing here?

  “Miki, I’m gonna kill you!” Owen huffed and puffed and lunged toward the bed. He grabbed her ankle and jerked her across the brown spread.

  “Hey!” she yelped and kicked out.

  “Careful, Owen. You touch her when you’re mad, you’ll regret it,” Flossy said easily with his thumbs hooked into his belt loops, casual, like busting into a hotel room was as routine as a coffee break.

  Owen dropped her bare foot, leaving her sitting on the edge of the mattress, mussed up and freaked out. His voice shook. “Mind telling me what you’re doing here? You know how long we’ve been looking for you? Driving all over Pulver Skull territory? Thank God we got a call. Otherwise, we’d be searching every exit, while you’re busy getting into Will’s pants.”

  “Hey, now…” Will frowned.

  “You’re lucky I don’t…” Owen’s face tightened, and he dropped his fists, then his chin. He stood quietly in front of her, staring at the brown, matted carpet, as if he were trying to get his emotions in order.

  “Enough talk.” Flossy stood wide-legged before them like a warrior. He combed his fingers down his coppery beard, and his turquoise and silver jewelry glimmered. “All our bikes are out front. Get your stuff, and let’s move.”

  Will eased his legs over the bed and pushed his long bangs off his forehead while he gathered his wits. Trip blocked the door, Flossy had his back, and Owen was inside ready to kick ass. Why the big freak-out? Before these a-holes showed up, there was only one bike out front. Even a P-skull wouldn’t look twice at a single bike.

  “Dude, we had to pull over.” Will glanced from Flossy to Owen. “I kept falling asleep.”

  “Sleeping?” The dragon lit up behind Owen’s eyes. “I caught you with your filthy hands all over my little sister. You two ever hear of a phone? I mean we’re settling into camp, and I see Caboose pulling up. He’s the last of ‘em, man. What’re we suppose to think?”

  “Dude, I—” Will turned and looked at Miki. “Why didn’t you text ‘em?”

  “I left Dad a voicemail.” Miki rubbed hands over her eyes, then pushed her hair back. She glanced around the room. “Where is he?”

  “You did?” Owen gaped. Then he swore and slapped the brass lamp off the desk. It thudded against the wall, and the shade rolled across the carpet. “Dad is…he’s with someone, and they’re in Maupin at some hotel.” Owen swore again and clutched his head. The pits in his shirt were stained with sweat, and he smelled like campfire smoke and motor oil.

  “He told me this was a father-daughter ride,” Miki said.

  “Dad is…” Owen dropped his arms. “He’s dad, alright? You keep hoping he’ll change, but he keeps on staying the same. When’re you gonna figure it out?”

  Will sat quietly, not wanting to draw attention to himself because Owen was a geyser. Didn’t the Holtz family know anything about keeping their cool and staying chill?

  “We need to get where we’re going. I feel like a sittin’ duck here.” Flossy glanced past Trip to the parking lot. “Get your shoes on, kids. Double-time.”

  Will fumbled with his socks, then slid his feet into his boots. Why were these guys so jittery? What was going on with the Pulver Skulls? They were a smaller club than the Hides of Hell. They didn’t have as much muscle, did they? Maybe Miki should skip the rally and give him a ride back home. If there was biker trouble, they certainly shouldn’t be in the middle of it. She was tough, but no match against a meathead in leather, and Will was nowhere near a bruiser even though he was covered with ‘em. Throwing punches required breaking a sweat and it simply wasn’t his M.O.

  “You hear what I hear?” Trip said from outside the doorway. The shredding sounds of motorcycle engines could be heard prowling in the distance.

  “Hit the lights,” Flossy said, pulling the curtain aside with one finger. The room went pitch black, cut only by the yellow fluorescents glowing from the breezeway.

  “Maybe Miki and I should head home. I’m awake now, so we’d be fine,” Will said and looked at the digital clock. He’d caught plenty of z’s since it was already after ten.

  “That’s what I was thinking, too.” Miki nodded.

  “Shut up. I’m still pissed at you,” Owen growled at her, then leaned down to pick up Will’s backpack. “Unfortunately, there’s no going back,” he said and launched it at Will’
s head.

  Will deflected it with his cast, and it plunked down on his little toe. The broken one. He winced.

  “We’re gone,” Flossy said and stepped away from the window. “But let’s play it safe. Miki in the middle…gun it around the backside. Will, you’re in a new bitch seat.”

  “Not it,” Trip said.

  “Man, you spoke up too soon.” Flossy nodded his wiry beard at Will. “You’re riding with Trip. Now, hustle. It’s time to hit the road.”

  Will slung his backpack on, grabbed the last of the cold pizza off the nightstand, and followed his new ride out the door. He maneuvered onto the back of Trip’s vintage Indian Spirit with a backrest—thank you, baby Jesus—and in between bites of pepperoni and cheese, his mind reeled with questions, like why was he even here? Why were they running from a bunch of P-skulls?

  Why hadn’t he heard from his dad or even his brother? Mom’s ashes and the slice of apple pie were in his backpack, but what was the plan exactly? And what about the line of crap they’d all fed him about needing to move on and let go?

  Mom?

  Yes, dear?

  Why’d you have to die anyway?

  I love you so much, Will. I died loving you.

  CHAPTER 8: A Hot One

  The four motorcycles hit the highway with Owen in the lead and Flossy pulling up the tail. Miki leaned into the curve with her headlamp trained on Trip’s back tire and Will’s rear end. Sixty minutes of staring at his green butt with another sixty to go. Torture! I’m a low-key kinda guy. Jerk. Being with you is not easy. Idiot. Haven’t you ever heard of the law of least effort? She’d have to look that one up later…in private.

  So she had Will pushing her away, Owen yelling in her face, and her dad completely ignoring her. Talk about man troubles. At least Owen seemed genuinely concerned about her even if he was pissed off beyond recognition. Dad, on the other hand, hadn’t bothered to return her call or to let anyone else know her whereabouts. Instead, he found himself a hoochie-mama, and—