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Rayne, our resident artist, has a vision that we can never fully grasp until we complete the chopper. He provides us with an outline, but no sketch can capture the magic of the end product. We all pitch in, but in the end, the final customization, which is all Rayne’s doing, always amazes us.
Once our plan is set, Storm takes charge of the fabrication work, while Lightning and Hail dismantle the existing parts from the frame. Rayne and I take care of sanding down any sharp edges or rust spots. Preparing the surface for the newly painted pieces.
As we work, we shoot the shit about our days riding with the Roarers MC. Telling stories of the adventures and challenges we shared on country roads with nothing but open skies above us. Our lives changed when Ruiz was arrested, and he made us swear to give up the one percent life. Not everyone agreed, but when Ruff Ryders came along, we seized the opportunity to join Ryder in doing what we love. He and his crew repair bikes, and we customize them, forming a profitable partnership. Stone’s Throw, a quiet small town, became our settled abode. Some of our Roarer brothers even started the Skin Sins Tattoo Shop nearby, so our family stayed together for the most part. It certainly turned Stone’s Throw upside down when we rode in and stayed, but the town is gradually getting used to us, I guess. And we’re not going anywhere.
We diligently work on the chopper, taking turns sanding and painting different parts of it. We fill the air with the smell of paint and metal as we meticulously ensure that every detail is perfect. Amidst our work, we discuss our plans for the upcoming weekend, placing bets on tonight’s basketball game and exchanging stories from our days in the MC clubs.
It’s moments like these that remind me why I love working here so much—not just because it pays well and gives me something productive to do with my time, but also because of how close we all are. We may not have been brothers in an MC club anymore, but Ruff Ryders is still a brotherhood—one built on trust and respect for one another.
It’s nearly two pm when we take a break for lunch. I try to sneak out the door, but of course, that doesn’t work. “Going to meet your girl?” Lightning asks.
“You mean the one thatcould behis girl if he just opened his mouth and said something to her?” Hail corrects.
“Yeah, yeah, keep it up,” I brush off their teasing. “I just haven’t figured out how to approach her yet, you know? It’s not like I can just walk up and start talking to her. She is deaf, remember?”
Storm claps me on the back. “Well, Thunder, you better figure it out soon, or we might have to brew coffee here. Can’t have you getting too distracted on the job.”
I laugh, shaking my head, and continue making my trek to see her. Taking their jabs to heart, I head out, determined to make a move on Arabella. As I grab my jacket and gear, Storm shouts after me, “Good luck with Coff-Tea, Thunder! Don’t mess it up!”
I give them all a thumbs-up, grinning despite my nerves, before making my way to Coff-Tea Cups, ready to take a chance and see if Arabella feels the same way about me.
* * *
I pull up on my bike, the revving engine cutting through the quiet afternoon air. Taking a deep breath, I try to prepare myself for seeing Arabella. Every time I lay my eyes on her, my heart races, and my palms sweat. I park my bike and walk in. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air.
There she is, as always, in the kitchen baking. But today, Molly is gone, so she steps around the front and starts wiping down a counter. Her back is towards me, giving me the perfect opportunity to make a move. I take another deep breath and approach her, my heart pounding in my chest.
I tap her on the shoulder, and she jumps, startled. Knocking over a cup of coffee, spilling the dark liquid over the counter. Shit, so not the impression I wanted to make, but I can’t help the way I feel around her.
I step forward to help her clean up the mess, and our eyes lock. There’s something about the way she looks at me, with a mix of confusion and desire, that makes my blood boil. I need to make my move before it’s too late.
I reach for her towel, but she shakes her head and tries to brush me aside. It’s the most interaction we’ve ever had. It takes me a moment to realize that she’s gesturing that she doesn’t need my help. I feel a pang of disappointment but take a step back, unsure of what to do next. We both stand there for a moment, awkwardly avoiding eye contact. I try to think of something to say, but I don’t know how to communicate with someone who is deaf.
After a moment, Arabella speaks up, surprising me. “Hi,” she says, her voice soft but clear. “My name is Arabella.”
I know her name. I live for her name.Breatheher name. But I don’t say a thing. Even though I’m stunned by her sudden introduction, I quickly recover. “Hi,” I reply, smiling. “I’m Thunder.”
She nods, and a small smile plays at the corners of her lips. We stand there in silence for a moment, trying to figure out how to communicate with each other. I realize she can read lips, so I start speaking—slowly and clearly. Making sure to enunciate each word.
She shakes her head. “You don’t need to do that. Just speak normally. When you slow down, it makes it harder to follow.”
“Um, oh.” I run my hand over my bald head. “Sorry.” I mouth. And realize I’m still doing it when she grins at my mistake. “Okay,” I drop my head. “Let me start over.”
Arabella takes my chin with her forefinger and lifts it. The touch is electric, stunning us both. At least, I think it hits usbothhard. She swallows and says. “You don’t have to go slow, but you do have to look at me.”
My smile dims the sun because, hell yeah, she doesn’t have to ask me twice about looking at her. Something else I live for.
We fumble our way through a quick conversation, both of us a little awkward. But as we talk, I feel a connection between us growing. We’re communicating in a way that feels foreign to me, but I’m determined to get to know her better, no matter what it takes.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I’m about to do. Arabella is here, right in front of me, and I can’t hold back any longer. I man up and ask her out on a date.
“Arabella, I know we’ve only just met, but I was wondering if you would like to go out with me sometime?”
Arabella’s mouth drops open, and she shakes her head. Her hands cling tightly to a corner of her shirt. The rejection hits me like a ton of bricks. I see the pity in her eyes, which hits me even harder. The two things she’s offering me are the last two things I want.
I turn my back on her, cutting off any further communication, and leave. The weight of her rejection drags my feet with every step. Even though I’m angry and hurt, I force myself to remember our spark. We made progress today. And I’m not letting us reverse course. The sun peeks out from the clouds again when I promise myself that we will move forward because no fucking way am I giving up.
ChapterTwo
