“Tell me about it,” he grumbled. “Go change. Jeans and closed-toed shoes. And get out of that top since it might get splattered by bugs and bettin’ you can’t just throw that in the wash. Where we’re goin’ ain’t nothin’ fancy and no reason to impress. Everything you’re wearin’ ain’t practical, either, since we’re gonna take my sled.”
“You used that term before but it’s the middle of the summer and I doubt you mean a sled that children ride down a snowy hill.”
“Fuck no, sweetheart, this is a man’s ride.”
She remembered what was advertised on his T-shirt earlier. “It’s a Harley, isn’t it?”
Her heart began to race in excitement. She hadn’t been on a motorcycle since before her father disappeared. She always loved when he’d ask if she wanted to go along on a ride. She always jumped at the chance to spend some one-on-one time with her father.
“Yeah. Got a sweet Sportster that’ll feel like a monster between your thighs. Got no back rest or anythin’. Means you gotta hold on tight so when I twist the throttle you don’t end up on your ass eatin’ my dust.”
She could easily take her Lexus instead. “I can follow you there.” Then she’d have a way to escape if she needed to.
“Nope. Place’ll be hoppin’ tonight. Where we’re goin’ you won’t find a spot to park for blocks. Got a VIP spot by the back door. You’re ridin’ with me.”
You’re ridin’ with me. Not a question but a fact.
“Do you at least have a helmet I can borrow?”
He snorted.
“I guess that’s a no.”
“Tie up your hair in somethin’ you can let down easily after we get there.”
There. Wherever there was.
Was she actually going to go? Be spontaneous for once in her life? Someone who planned everything down to the most minute detail was simply going to hop on the back of a motorcycle with a man she only met this morning and let him take her somewhere unknown?
She glanced over his shoulder. “What about watching the office?”
“Got it covered.”
“So, you’re not currently working?”
“No.”
“Were you out here waiting for me?”
“Just havin’ a smoke.”
“Do you sit out here often to have a smoke?”
“Enough jawin’. We gotta go if we wanna catch the band before they split.”
“What kind of music do they play?”
“The kind you use your ears to listen to. It matter?”
No, she guessed it really didn’t. There wasn’t much music she didn’t like and, truthfully, she wasn’t going along to listen to a band, she was going to spend more time with a man named Ozzy.
“Go. Pick you up out here in a few.”
He spun on his boot heel and strode into the office.
As the door shut behind him, she noticed something she couldn’t see before.
The back of his vest.
In the few seconds it took him to disappear inside, she had a chance to read the top and bottom curved patches.
One said Blood Fury. The other Pennsylvania.
And the large center patch consisted of a skull and crossbones. She didn’t have enough time, or light, to see the detail.
But still… it looked eerily familiar.
She’d seen it before. In the past.
But after her dad disappeared, she never saw it again.
Chapter Five
The rumble of the motorcycle stopping in front of her seeped into her chest. It was that loud, that deep, and it got her blood flowing once again.
While she had changed into more appropriate clothing—a pair of jeans, a cotton V-neck top, and some well-broken-in, low-heeled ankle boots she had thrown into her suitcase at the last minute so she could hike the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon on Sunday—she realized it had been almost twenty-four years since she’d last ridden with her father.
She missed it and missed him…
She had also pulled her hair up into a simple, tight twist, hoping that would be good enough to prevent too many tangles.
Ozzy shot her a breath-stealing, sexy grin after slowly checking out her attire. She guessed he approved. If he didn’t, she was sure he’d make his opinion known since he didn’t seem to hold back on voicing it.
He tipped his head, which was now covered in what her father used to call a skullcap since he never wore a helmet, either. And, unlike now, back then she couldn’t remember if it was legal to go without one.
He also wore some sort of clear glasses to protect his eyes and dug into that vest to pull out a smaller pair. He held them out for her.
She donned them, grateful for the protection, used his shoulder for balance and straddled the seat behind him, which was raised a bit higher than his. But he was right, if she didn’t hang on tightly, nothing was stopping her from falling backwards and getting road rash, if not badly injured or even killed.
“Closer. Wrap your arms around me and don’t fuckin’ let go.”