“What?”
“Someone had some, but said they had gotten it.”
“Tatum?” Axe attempts to give me a hard time about her, cutting my eyes at him.
I don’t need to look over at Ro to know he’s looking at me with a curious, shitty grin. “Yeah, but she’s gone now.”
It’s been months since I walked down that sketchy gravel road until I was able to make it to the freeway.
It was a long fucking walk, but I knew I had to get out of there before whatever I was feeling fluttering in my gut was able to solidify.
I roll my car into the gas station and I step out. Straightening out my dress, making sure not to flash anybody on the way out or bust my ass in my tall shoes. I slip my card in to pay before I lift the nozzle, shoving it into the tank to fill. Leaning back against my car, crossing my legs at the ankles, I notice the few bikes that are parked together to the side of the parking lot. There’s one guy, sitting on a 4th bike, but he just sits, staring at them.
The bikes cause flashes of memories to come.
But it doesn’t take much to remind me of him. I can still smell him as I held on while he drove us around. Feel his laughter underneath me. See his eyes as he stalked across a room after me.
I can still feel him inside of me as I’m coming undone in front of him.
I remember how his skin felt pressed up against mine.
I can still hear him as he jokes around, laughing at me.
No, that’s not something I can still hear, that something that I’m currently hearing. Standing up straight, I look in the direction of the doors to the store and watch as 3 men come walking out of the doors. They’re all wearing the same vest.
No, they’re all wearing a motorcycle club kutte.
My breath gets stuck in my throat as I watch Zane close in the distance to the bikes.
“What the fuck are you doing, prospect?” He shouts, startling the kid that’s zoned out on the bike.
“What… What? I’m sorry Prez, I—” he stops abruptly, not really sure what else to say.
Prez? Zane was now the president of this club. I squint my eyes, trying to read the logo on the back of it.
Damned&Demented sits above the logo while Midnight Syn lays underneath.
The men are still shouting towards the prospect, giving him a hard time, but I can’t stop staring at Zane. How he moves with a confident fluidity.
“Come on, guys, stop messing with him. We’re already late.” He nods as he picks up his helmet from the bike, putting it on his head and moving to the right, kicking his leg over it.
The bike roars to life before he walks it backwards, pulling down the throttle… I swear, I can feel the fucking vibrations of its rumble underneath me.
As he faces me, I see his glasses covering his eyes, and I think he’s looking at me, but I also don’t want to look like I’m too desperate. So I just wait, hoping that he stops, saying something to me.
I let out a defeated sigh as the group passes me, pulling out onto the road, and opening up the engine and disappearing down the road.
I have to fight back the tears as I pull the nozzle out of the car and back into its spot.
—4 years later—
“Tate.” Leon calls for me as he pulls me down onto his lap. I didn’t want to come out tonight, mostly because I knew it was going to be all of his friends. Like I even have friends, any more. I’m not sure why I’ve stayed here for so long. There wasn’t anything for me back home, any ways. And even if it’s been hard for me to make friends in this city, I’m at least away from where I grew up. When I left Tom, I should have moved back home, but for some fucking reason, I stayed.
I’m a goddamn liar. I want to act like I don’t know why I stayed, but I do. Even if I haven’t spoken a word to him in nearly 4 years, the brief glances I get of him around the city hold me here. And once my sister invited me to move in with her, it just gave me an easier excuse to stick around.
Leon’s feet come inside of my legs, hooking around my feet and spreading them in front of his friends.
“Leon, please… no.”
