Biker's Bride (Demons MC)

“What is this place?”

“This is Fisherman’s Wharf.”

Fisherman’s Wharf was maybe fifteen feet wide, at most, and had a single concrete path running down its center. Trees were planted on either side. To the right, there was a sheer brick wall leading back up to the main level. To the left, the river continued to flow, lazy and uncaring.

Rex started walking. “Come on, it’s just ahead.”

I ran to catch up, and grabbed his hand. He smiled down at me and squeezed my fingers. I didn’t feel afraid anymore, even though we were completely alone there, in the semi-dark next to the river.

I trusted Rex. I had made a choice, and I was going to follow him.

Chapter Ten

We walked further down the path. Carvings of fish were embossed into the concrete, and I guessed that’s why they called it Fisherman’s Wharf. We walked a bit further, and the path widened into an open area. To the right were two benches, and to the left was an enormous rock jutting out over the river. Standing next to the rock was a plaque.

I let go of Rex’s hand and walked over to the flat bronze page. “The Schuylkill River was chosen by William Penn in 1682 as the site of what eventually became Philadelphia. It is approximately fifty-eight thousand miles long and exists entirely in Pennsylvania.”

Rex laughed at me. “School-kill,” he said.

I looked confused. “What?”

He walked over and pointed at the word “Schuylkill.”

“It’s pronounced School-kill. It’s one of those weird Native American words that nobody knows how to say.”

I laughed and looked at it again. I had heard that word before when people talked about the river, but I had never seen it written down. “Definitely doesn’t look like it should be pronounced that way.”

He moved over to the rock and sat down on it, overlooking the river.

“Appearances can be deceiving sometimes, spoiled girl.”

I walked over and sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “Yeah, that’s very true.”

We sat in silence for a few moments, overlooking the river. It moved slowly, and I reflected again on how beautiful the area was. Quiet and empty, I could almost imagine Rex and I were back in the old days of the city, before electric lights, alone in a vast, beautiful place. That was how I sometimes wanted the city to be: a landscape of movement, light and sound, but empty except for those that I loved. At certain, special moments, it felt that way to me, and I understood why people fell in love with Philadelphia.

“Do people actually fish off here?”

Rex laughed. “Yeah, some people do. But there’s not much to catch. Mostly just sludge and dead bodies.”

I looked surprised. “Seriously, dead bodies?”

He grinned. “Maybe, or maybe not. That’s what everyone says at least. The river is pretty polluted though, so nobody eats the fish from there.”

“Do you come down here often?”

He shrugged. “Not as much anymore. Not really for years, actually.”

I wondered when he last brought someone down those steps.

“Seems like a good spot,” I said.

He nodded. “It really is.”

“So tell me about growing up here,” I asked. I didn’t want to pry, but I felt desperate to learn about him.

Rex adjusted himself next to me. “It’s not a great story.”

“Where did you live?”

He sighed, eyes still out on the water. “My parents died when I was young, and I grew up in the foster system. Philly is a tough place to live when you don’t have much.”

I felt myself go still. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

He looked at me and grinned. “It’s not a big deal. It was a long time ago, and I didn’t have it that bad, really. People were pretty nice, but I had to learn to take care of myself early on. Guys I knew ended up much worse off than I am, believe it or not.”

“I can’t even imagine.”

“Most people can’t. I got lucky though, and was adopted by a really nice family when I was ten. I was pretty old to get adopted, but I guess they liked me. They tried for years to conceive and couldn’t, and finally my foster dad put his foot down, and I guess they adopted me after that.”

“What were they like?”

“Mitch was my stepdad. He was a good guy. He taught me how to fight. Apparently he was a great boxer when he was younger. He was really good to me. Made me into the man I am today, minus all the drugs. My stepmom was a little less interested in me though.”

“What do you mean, less interested?” I moved closer to him. I could feel the heat growing off his body and wanted to breathe him in.

“I never really found out, but it always felt like Mitch was the one who wanted me. He took care of me, made sure I had what I needed, taught me to fight. Cindy wasn’t around much, mostly just worked and stuff. She was more interested in her television shows than in trying to raise me.”