AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I wanted to thank you.” She glowed with delight, as she had all evening. He guessed she was about twenty years older than him, but her lust for life made her seem ageless. “We had such fun. I wouldn’t be surprised if a couple of us signed up for the real course.”
“Jesse will be glad to hear it.” He strode to a bike, gripped the handles, and swept up the kickstand with his foot.
“We’re all heading to the restaurant across the street for appies and drinks. One of our members recently had a baby and couldn’t come to the lesson but is meeting us there.” She pointed over the wide thoroughfare that edged the west side of the parking lot. “Why don’t you join us?”
Just what he wanted. To be the odd man out in a group of longtime friends. “I gotta get back to the garage.”
“I understand. Well, thanks for an awesome evening.” She turned to go, hesitated, and then turned back. “Sorry. One more question.” She reached out and touched the tattoo on his hand with a fingertip. “That’s a beautiful design. Where did you get it?”
He stared at the phoenix. Its spread wings and proud head cover the back of his palm and wrist, with the feathers of its tail trailing down his fingers. Rendered in blacks and oranges and reds, it was dramatic and bold. “Golden Dragon.” It was the only ink he’d had done since getting out of jail and one of the few he didn’t regret.
Her nod was smug with satisfaction. “I thought I recognized Sven’s work. He was a true artist.”
He raised surprised eyebrows. “You knew Sven?” He scanned the skin visible on her neck and arms. No tattoos in sight. He knew all sorts of people were getting inked these days, yet he struggled to believe Helen had.
“I worked for him for a few years. When he retired, I bought the shop. Golden Dragon is mine now.”
Appearances obviously could be deceiving. Except for himself. Shaving his beard and wearing clothing that had fewer skulls and grease stains might make him more presentable, but that would only be a cosmetic change. He was who he was, and the world needed to be warned. Like his tattoos, his past was drawn in indelible ink.
Unfazed by his lack of response, Helen remained cheery and friendly. “Are you sure you can’t come for a quick minute? We won’t bite, I promise.” She twinkled with mischievous glee and he weakened, loneliness gnawing at his resolve.
Penta detached herself from the group by the vehicles and approached. She spoke to Helen. “Nathan says he’s dying of thirst.”
“Of course he is.” Her tone was indulgent. She gave Cash another radiant smile. “If you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
Penta didn’t follow Helen when she returned to her husband and friends with brisk, lively steps. But she didn’t look at Cash, either, just stared into the distance, fingers intwined in a hard knot at her waist.
He shrugged and rolled the bike into the trailer. He’d given up hope that she might accept his suggestion. After spending time with her friends, he realized how ridiculous the idea was. Her wish to revolt, to step out of her cozy life, had been the impulse of a moment. No way would she actually do it.
He anchored the bike in place, checked to make sure it was secure, and went back for the next one. Penta still stood there, watching the line of her friends’ vehicles snake out of the parking lot and onto the road.
In silence, he gripped the handlebars and raised his foot to swipe at the stand.
“Okay. I’m in.”
His head jerked toward her, vertebrae popping. “You are?”
She met his gaze, fear and resolve tangling in her expression. Her nod was quick and brittle.
He’d never felt this level of relief and anticipation before, not even the day he’d left prison. “You’ll help me with Elle?”
“I will.” Her lips flattened into a thin, determined line. “And you’ll try to give me some street cred.”
He couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing.
WELL, THIS IS GOING swimmingly, Penta thought in sour frustration. Here she’d gathered her courage and jumped off the high diving board—
—only to be laughed at.
She spun on her toes and stalked toward her van.
“Penta! Wait.” Heavy boots thudded behind her and a strong hand gripped her elbow.
It was an impersonal touch compared to being perched behind him on the motorbike. Then she’d been hyperaware of how he’d fit between her legs, how the strong column of his neck had been within nuzzling distance. Her belly bloomed with heat at the memory.
She yanked out of his grasp, halted her headlong rush, and swung to confront him. “You laughed at me!”
He held his palms out like shields. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t at you. I promise.”
