Dragon's Burn

by Brooke Warren

  “This was me calling you with my whereabouts. You know, in case someone tries to steal me.”

  “Please,” she snorts. “The minute you go into full Poppy mode, hands flailing and all, they’d return you.”

  “Ha. Ha. Laugh it up.” I walk down to the corner, peering up and down the road, checking to see if anyone is coming. “You know I’m awesome, and anyone would be lucky to have me.”

  “Sure, they would. How much longer ‘til he comes?”

  I hear then see a bike turn onto the street and head in my direction. My heart starts dancing for a different reason. “He’s here. Gotta go.”

  “Have fun! Give me all the details later.”

  “Love ya. Bye.”

  I hang up with Deb just as Ryu comes to a stop right in front of me. He takes off his helmet, and I swear I stop breathing for a second. The man is beautiful. I know I should be leery of him, as any sane woman would be, but he elicits a craving deep inside me. Instead of running away from the strange feeling, I find myself heading straight for it.

  “You ready? I wanna take you somewhere.”

  I lift a brow, confused because I thought we would be hanging out at my house. He smiles at my confusion. “You know, I’ve seen plenty of movies where the hot guy says that exact line, and then the stupid girl falls for it only to find out he’s leading her to her death.”

  I’m teasing him, of course, despite the flutters dancing in my stomach. What if he takes me to the Fallen’s clubhouse? The idea both terrifies and excites me—leaning more on the terrified part. I can’t pigeonhole an entire group of people because of one bad egg. Even if that person equates to the devil himself. I want to know more about Ryu’s life, and in order to do that, I can’t be too quick to judge. Being judged by the actions of others is something I can relate to.

  “Thanks for ruining my surprise. I was really looking forward to seeing you panic. No point in going now. I'll have to go back home and reconfigure a new plan of attack.” He feigns hurt.

  I laugh. “Aww, sucks for you. You should try and be less cliché the next time you tell a girl you want to take her someplace and leave out all the major details.”

  “So, you screw my surprise up and then proceed to taunt me? I think it's time for me to go home and cry it out.” He pouts, lifting his arms to put his helmet back on.

  “Don't be like that.” I tug on his arm. He smirks, the flecks of orange in his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I promise not to throw any more digs at you the rest of the evening.”

  “Thanks, I guess? Here, put this on.”

  He hands me the helmet, and I slip it on. It's a little big for me but comfortable. He holds his hand out and helps me onto his bike. Thank God I opted for jeans instead of a dress. If I’d known I was getting on the back of a bike today, I would’ve worn a different pair of shoes, not sandals.

  I settle in behind him but find the backpack he’s wearing too bulky for me to get my arms around his waist. “Hey, let me wear the backpack.”

  I wrap my arms around his waist after getting the backpack settled on my shoulders and can't help myself from laying my palms flat against his stomach. The hard planes of his abs move beneath my fingers as he adjusts the bike, giving the engine a few revs.

  “Hang on tight.” I tighten my hold and let out a little squeal when he takes off. I can feel the contractions in his stomach from him laughing at me.

  It feels like we’re flying down the road at hyper-speed. The warm summer air moves over my skin, and for a moment, I close my eyes and pretend I’m soaring through the sky. I know it’s a fantasy, a grand idea that I’m high above the clouds looking down on the bustling life below. I'm no longer Poppy, the girl whose parents never should've had her, the girl who is fighting to make something of herself, so she doesn't have to live in the shadow of her parents’ actions anymore.

  Here on the back of Ryu’s bike, with my arms locked around him, it feels like I can breathe for the first time. Like something inside me has woken up. All I know is that I never want this feeling to go away now that I've had a taste of it.

  Who knew my first time on the back of a motorcycle would be this eye-opening, this liberating? I always knew I had an attraction to the roar of a bike engine, what I didn't know was how easy it was for me to become addicted.

  We hit a straightaway, and he leans down further, causing me to do the same. I squeeze my thighs harder against him as our speed picks up, partly because I'm a little scared but also because there’s a growing need to be as close to him as I can get. The same one I get the more I’m around him. It’s becoming harder and harder to ignore.

  Riding through the country on a bike is so different than in a car. The greens of the trees and pastures look more vibrant even with the sun setting, casting its glow of orange hues across the darkening sky. I wish I could take a picture to capture this moment.

  All too soon, we start to slow down, and eventually, Ryu turns onto a small dirt path that could easily be missed if you weren't looking for it. The pathway is bumpy, and I do my best to hold on. We come out into a huge clearing.

  I smooth my hair down the best I can once the helmet is off, unsure what it looks like. “Where are we?” I ask, looking around.

  “On someone's property, I assume. I found this place not too long after we moved to the area. It's not far from the clubhouse. I went out for a run one morning and came across it. I’ve never seen anyone here.”

  “How often do you come?”

  “Not as much as I used to.” I get the feeling he has more to say but stops himself. He grabs my hand and moves us closer to the water.

  “I would love to find a place like this near me. Could've really used something like this a time or two. Just to get away and think without any interruptions.” He hums his agreement while unzipping his backpack. We stand there for a minute, enjoying the peaceful scenery. The only sounds are the cicadas starting up their nighttime concert.

  “Whatchu got in there?” I nod to the backpack.

  “Oh, you know, duct tape, zip ties, rope, plastic wrap, a knife, gloves—the usual supplies any wannabe killer would need. They sell complete kits online, so you don't even have to go to the store anymore,” he deadpans.

  His face remains stoic, but his eyes give him away.

  “How convenient. I bet the mastermind behind that operation is making a killing.”

  I keep a straight face, but he breaks under my corny joke and throws his head back, giving me a laugh that is contagious as my own laughter bubbles up and out of me. Pulling out a blanket, he spreads it on the ground and motions for me to sit.

  A comfortable silence falls between us. There is now a purplish-blue tint painted in the sky mixing with the orange glow of the sun. It’s funny how I know this happens every day, but I never take the time to just stop and enjoy it.

  “You know, when I was a little girl, I used to dream of the day when I could ride off into the sunset and forget about this town, my parents, my life. I would sit out back of whatever house my parents were crashing at and stare up into the sky and ask God for help.”

  I ignore the fact that my palms are sweaty, and my mouth is going dry and push on anyway.

  “Silly ideas at the time, especially when I couldn't comprehend everything that was going on around me. I knew bad stuff was happening, things I shouldn't have been exposed to at that age. There were times when I wouldn't eat for days, wear the same clothes day after day. Yet somehow, my parents always seemed to be able to fund their drug habit, and that included their circle of friends who were just as strung out as they were. But the happiest moments I can remember are when my father would let me watch him and his friends work on their bikes.”

  “Bikes? Your dad was in a club?” Ryu asks.

  I shrug. “I don't know. I was so young, and I've tried blocking out that part of my life. But to this day, I can still recall how it felt to hear the engine firing up, the rumble under my feet that would travel up through my bones. When my fa
ther worked on his bike it meant he wasn't high on drugs. He would look over at me and smile and sometimes would even let me help him.”

  “Those are good memories to hold on to.”

  “Hmm. I’ve never really thought about it like that. I don’t hate them, nor do I love them. I’m indifferent to them, which in turn makes any memories I have useless to hold on to.” I pick at the grass near my foot.

  I’m not sure how I feel about opening up to him yet, but I keep going. While I was confessing that little part of myself, I realized why I said it.

  “I don’t share things about myself often. I find most people not worthy of the part of me I keep hidden.” His face shows no emotion, but somehow, I get the sense that I’ve caught him off guard by my confession, and I can’t blame him, so am I.

  I stare at the pond. “I’m stronger than you probably think I am. I don’t really know you, but there is something about you that soothes the jagged edges in me. It’s like I can see the pieces of you that you try to hide from the world. That doesn’t mean I know exactly what you’ve been through. It’s just that I see you—all of you; because it’s like looking at myself.”

  Saying all that out loud has me wanting to crawl into a deep hole while at the same time puffing up my chest. “I appreciate you checking on me the other night and for hanging out today. I hope that you aren’t doing it out of some sense of guilt. Was I scared? Yes. But I was also upset with myself because I stood there frozen when he pulled that knife out.”

  “I really wish Ace hadn’t been there. He insisted on going, I think, just to make our lives harder. But don’t worry about me. It may not look like it, but I can take Ace.”

  “Hard not to worry,” I slip up and say, but move on quickly and hope he doesn’t catch it. “Regardless, if you’re trying to protect me, shield me from things, you don't have to. I understand more than you think, and I can handle myself just as well. It may not have looked like it the other day, but like I already told you, Ace makes my skin crawl. I know he’s an exception and not a representation.”

  I don't know if I meant to say all that, but I’m glad I did. It's a relief to get it all off my chest, but at the same time it makes me more vulnerable, so much so that I don't think he grasps the magnitude. I feel my heartstrings pulling, and my body tenses. I peek over at Ryu, but he doesn't seem to have noticed the change. It’s at this moment that I know my feelings for him are growing. There’s no stopping it now, and a part of me doesn’t want to.

  Ryu

  I sit quietly, processing her story and her reasons for telling me. With my arms resting on my bent knees, I fidget with my jeans. The words I want to say are right there on the tip of my tongue, but I can't seem to push them past my lips. She is perceptive, more so than I thought.

  I think about her as a child and compare it to my own childhood. While both of us grew up in broken homes, filled with drugs and questionable people, for some reason, it pisses me off that she had to go through that. She’s lucky she has her grandmother, and I make a promise to myself that if I ever meet her again, I will thank her for taking care of Poppy.

  A light breeze rustles through the trees, and a few loose strands of her blonde hair fall around her face. Without thinking, I reach out and brush it behind her ear. Turquoise eyes sparkle under my touch, a small smile playing on her full lips.

  I know she wants me to believe and understand that she is not a sheltered princess. And I get it, I really do. I don't want people to think I’m nothing but a degenerate who lacks manners and is unable to have an intelligent conversation.

  “I’m sorry if I ruined the moment getting all deep and shit.” Her laughter is light, but I can hear the nervousness in it.

  “You didn't. Promise,” I say, trying to ease her worry. I find myself wanting to tell her things about me, more than just the surface information. There are a hundred reasons why I shouldn’t. But as I stare at her, the reasons stopping me don’t matter anymore and the parts of myself that I don’t let out start falling off my lips.

  “You had asked me on our first date to share things about myself. I don’t remember much about my mother. She died from a drug overdose when I was five.” I expect her to gasp or try and coddle me, but she does neither. Is it weird I kind of wanted her to? I gaze out into the clearing as my mind walks me down the darkened path of memory lane.

  “My father was never the same after. I grew up being cared for by the ol’ ladies in a couple different clubs my father was in. He may have been around, but he wasn’t present in my life. And like you, I saw more than I should’ve growing up. Sex, drugs, and violence were a normal part of my everyday life. I think the only reason I wasn't turned over to the state is because of the clubs and their mindset of taking care of what's theirs. Though the ‘taking care of’ part varies in its interpretation.”

  “If it wasn't for my grandmother, I would’ve been placed in the system. She’s the only thing that kept me out.”

  I lean back, holding myself up with my hands and stretching my legs out. She lies down beside me, her hair fanning around her head, making her look like an angel—the light to my darkness. Fuck, this chick is burrowing under my skin, and it’s my own damn fault for letting it happen. I can’t seem to stay away from her, something about her draws me in like no one else ever has. Like she said, there is a connection between us, something that tethers us together.

  “I barely passed high school, but I was determined to at least have some sort of education. I’ve never had a life beyond that of a club. My father joined at eighteen, his choice. I’ve grown up in it, never having the option of living any other way. I can tell you that they aren’t all bad, and there’s a lot of good people who are a part of the community.”

  I stop there, wanting to tell her more, but there’s this innate need to protect her, even from the questionable parts of myself. She isn't part of my world. That's one reason I didn’t take her to the clubhouse; no one needs to know about her or my interest in her. She’s not a groupie, and I refuse for her to be seen as such, claiming her as mine is a big statement.

  For now, I want to keep her my secret, an escape I can run to and get lost in. Selfish of me. But if I think about it, this is the first time I’ve had something all to myself.

  “Ace is a dick for sure. But I also don’t want you to assume I asked you out tonight as a way to smooth over the situation. I want to chill with you. Plain and simple.”

  “Do you like it? Being in the club, I mean.”

  Isn't that a question I've asked myself a thousand times? “Yes and no. There is good and bad. Sorry, that’s not the best answer. It’s the only one I can come up with.”

  “You talked about wanting to go to school, but doing so would mean a life outside the club. Those are two different paths. Isn’t there a way to do both?”

  I study her face while trying to choose my words. “Getting out of the club isn't that easy. Starting over somewhere costs money. There are many factors to consider. Trust me. I’ve gone over them.” I mutter the last part, tilting my head back. The sky is almost completely black now, stars begin to pop out, shining down on us.

  “I’m pretty sure my father hates me.” The admission falls out of my mouth like it was just waiting for me to part my lips again. There was no hesitation. “He’s a worthless piece of shit, only concerned with himself and his successes. He doesn't care if he has to screw everyone over in the process if it means getting what he wants. The fucked-up part is even if I leave, disappear, and go someplace where he’ll never find me, a small part of me feels an obligation to stick around. I’m technically the only family he has left.”

  I’ve never said any of that out loud. Thinking it is one thing but admitting that to another person is fucking weird yet liberating at the same time.

  One minute I’m looking up into the night sky, and the next she’s straddling my waist. She runs a hand through my hair, the other cupping the side of my face. Her eyes hold my own, the scent of berries filling the spa
ce between us, and fuck if my dick doesn’t start twitching with excitement.

  She opens her mouth like she wants to say something but changes her mind. I have only half a second to prepare before her mouth descends onto mine. It takes my brain another half a second to process what’s happening before my lips start moving with hers.

  And, oh man, she tastes even better than I imagined—like tart berries during fall. Her lips part, and I take advantage by sliding my tongue against hers, teasing her before drawing back to nip her bottom lip. I hear her whimper, and now I’m desperate to hear it again.

  She pulls back, embarrassment written all over her stained pink cheeks. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She goes to move off me, but I hold her in place. Her pupils are blown wide, and she sucks in her bottom lip; it makes me want to pull it out and suck on it myself. I tuck loose strands of her hair behind her ear, and skim my fingers down her cheek and neck, stopping on her collarbone.

  The kiss was a tease, a way to torment me. I want more so I close the distance, deepening the kiss and tightening my arm around her waist, my other hand cradling the back of her neck.

  Her hands grip my shoulders. The kiss is soft, unhurried, and filled with many unspoken words, but nothing that needs to be said. She understands me, that's what I taste on her lips. A part of me is freaked out by that, but the other half is relieved.

  She rotates her hips against me and moans into my mouth, the sound the sweetest thing I've ever heard. My dick is now hard and aching, and with each swipe of her tongue my body’s becoming addicted to her flavor. Both are begging me to take more.

  The hand on my shoulder moves up and fists in my hair. I grunt at the sharp tingles sliding along my scalp from how hard she’s pulling. I tease her tongue and nibble on her lower lip because I’ve been dying to see how swollen I can get them. Every sound she makes, I catalog for later because I’ll be thinking about this moment for a long time.

  There’s a small voice in the back of my mind telling me to slow down. But I’m not sure if it’s to savor her, this moment, or to put a stop to what’s happening. Since my brain isn’t working at the moment, my body takes control, and I roll us over and settle between her thighs. Like she did to me, I rotate my hips, grinding my dick against her covered pussy. She gasps and wraps her legs around my waist, pressing me further into her.