Tearing the paper off the box, I shake it in my hands like I used to do on Christmas morning. My brother and I would shake the presents, trying to guess what they were before we actually opened them. I almost never got it right and I’m pretty sure if I tried to guess what was inside this box, I most definitely would have been wrong. I didn’t expect a present much less the leather jacket I was holding.

“Deuce!”

“Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding me?” I ask as I throw the box off my lap and stand. Slipping my arms through the sleeves of the buttery leather, I spin around. Dressed in his t-shirt and my new leather jacket, I place my hands on my hips and laugh.

“How do I look?”

“Like every man’s dream,” he says, leaning back on his elbows. “Open the next one.”

Keeping the jacket on, I giddily spin around and grab the second box, ripping the paper quicker than I did with the jacket.

“It’s a skull cap helmet. It won’t cover your face but you’ll still be safe,” he explains as he comes up behind me and I pull the half helmet from the box. Turning to face him, I cradle the helmet in my hands.

“Thank you,” I whisper, swallowing down the emotion suddenly clogging my throat. Taking the helmet from my hands, I hold my breath as he fits it onto my head.

“You okay?”

Nodding, I release a sigh as he secures the chin strap.

“All set,” he murmurs, thumbing my chin. “Now you’re ready to ride.”

“We’re going to ride?”

“Once you put some pants on,” he says with a laugh.

“Really?” I shriek.

Standing on my tiptoes, I throw my arms around his neck. My shirt rides up my body and his hands snake around to grab my ass.

“Thank you,” I whisper into his neck.

“My pleasure,” he replies, releasing my ass as he pulls back. “The night’s young and all ours.”

My cheeks ache from the big ass smile on my face and I make a quick dash to the bathroom. After a quick shower, I dry my hair and pull my clothes on. Dressed in a pair of black leggings and a Johnny Cash t-shirt I picked up during our trip to Target, I lace up my boots. Slipping into my new leather jacket, I grab my helmet and head into the parking lot of the motel. Straddling his bike, he leans forward over the handlebars and whistles when he sees me.

“Jesus,” he calls. “Look at you.”

“You like?”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he gives me a nod.

“Love,” he mutters, sitting up straight. “Come on, Bonnie, hop on.”

A grin spreads across my face at the nickname and I brace one hand on his shoulder as I throw my leg over the Harley.

“Does that mean you're my Clyde?”

“Depends, do you want to go rob a bank?”

“Is it bad that I’m not totally turned off by the idea?” I ask as I wrap my arms around his waist.

“Maybe we should start small and knock off a liquor store,” he suggests.

“I’m down,” I tell him, leaning my chin on his shoulder. “I’ll distract the clerk with my fake southern accent and you get the goods. Now come on, Clyde, take me on a ride I’ll never forget.”

Revving the engine of his bike, he laughs and I squeeze him tight before he peels away from the motel. We barely make it out of the parking lot before I’m certain that this will be unlike any ride I’ve ever been on before and most definitely one I’ll never forget. When I’m old and struggling to remember the memories that made my life worthwhile I’ll remember this moment. I’ll remember Deuce and the way he turned every nightmare into a cherished memory.

With the wind smacking our faces, we ride. Blowing lights and ignoring speed limits, we take to the road and I learn what living life in the fast lane is like.

I’m not the girl on a quest for freedom.

I am the face of it.

Placing one hand on his shoulder, I lift the other into the air and bend my head back, letting the wind drift over me. Free and full of life, I leave the past behind and allow myself to breathe. I allow myself to dream new dreams and promise myself to make them all come true. If I’ve learned anything from life, it’s that tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. I’m learning to live day by day and to make each one count. If tomorrow comes, and it’s a bad day for me, then at least I had today.

At least I had this moment.

Never wanting it to end, we ride for what seems like hours and seconds all at the same time until he pulls up in front of a diner. Hiding my disappointment as he kills the engine, I climb off the bike and work at removing the helmet.

“That was fucking incredible,” I beam, shaking out my hair.

“You said you rode before,” he says, taking the helmet from my hands.

“Yeah, but I never felt it if that makes any sense. I was either too fucked up or lost inside my own head to really appreciate it, to feel every bit of the adrenaline coursing through my veins.”

Smirking, he leans forward and brushes my hair back with the tip of his nose before he whispers against my ear.

“Wait until you feel what else I’ve got coming your way.”

“Bring it on, Clyde, bring it on,” I whisper back as he takes my hand in his. Grinning at me, he pulls me toward the diner. As we climb the stairs a wave of familiarity washes over me and I brace my hand on the banister.

“What’s the matter?” Deuce asks from the landing.

Lifting my head, I glance up at the sign and it all comes rushing back to me.

“I’ve been here before,” I tell him, staring up at the sign that reads Vegas Diner.

Deuce fires off a bunch of questions but I’m too consumed by the memories of me and my brother racing up these very steps. I can hear my mother yelling from behind for us to slow down and my father’s boisterous laugh.

“We came here every Sunday when I was a kid,” I say, finally tearing my eyes from the sign to meet Deuce’s worried gaze.

“Do you want to leave?”

“No,” I shake my head.

“All right,” he replies, linking our hands once more. “Whatever you want.”

As we climb the rest of the stairs, I spot the sign taped to the glass door. Quickly, my eyes roam the print, learning the famous diner that’s been in business for thirty-five years is closing at the end of the month. I don’t know what comes over me but I suddenly feel like I was meant to come here today. After learning my parents died, it’s almost as if they sent me here. A sign maybe, they may be gone but like I never left their hearts, they will never leave mine.

Following the hostess, we slide into the booth and I shrug my leather jacket off. Deuce orders us some sodas as I stare at the jukebox connected to the table.

“As a kid I loved these things,” I say as I turn the dial on top of it. “Jagger and I used to fight over who got to pick the songs.”

“I’m starting to think he’s a control freak,” he mutters, rubbing his jaw.

“I think it’s a twin thing. He’s always thought that since he’s five minutes older he’s entitled to have authority,” I say with a laugh.

“You showed authority today,” he points out.

“I did, didn’t I?” I reply thoughtfully before shrugging. “It felt right. I don’t mean fighting with my brother, but defending you and sticking up for myself. I don’t regret that.”

“Appreciate what you did but you don’t need to defend me, darlin’,” he says as he tears the paper off the straw. “The last thing I want is for whatever this is,” he pauses, pointing between us. “I don’t want it coming between you and your brother.”

Wondering myself what exactly this is between us, I start to talk when the waitress interrupts asking if we’re ready to order.

“Do you know what you want?” Deuce asks, glancing at the menu in front of me, the one I hadn’t even opened yet.

“Chocolate chip pancakes with a side of bacon please,” I say, handing back the menu. She takes Deuce’s order and then she heads to the kitchen.

“Chocolate chip pancakes?”

“I remember ordering them every Sunday,” I confess, drumming my nails against the table as I bite my lip. “It’s strange, as much as I’m trying to forget my past, there are certain things I’m desperate to remember.”

“Like Sunday mornings at the Vegas Diner with your family.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “I don’t think it’s sunk in that they’re gone, that my parents are really dead or that they died so tragically.”

“Cobra told you all the details?”

I nod, remembering the gruesome picture he painted as he explained Yankovich hired the men who killed my parents in cold blood. From what I understand, my parents had hired a bounty hunter after years of getting nowhere with the NYPD. The bounty hunter connected some dots for them and when he gave them Yankovich’s name, my dad went after him. Days later, having suffered multiple gunshot wounds to the head, my parents were found dead.

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I blink and focus on Deuce.

“Did you know?”

“About your parents? Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It wasn’t my place, Ally, and to be honest, I didn’t want to be the one to break that news to you.”

“I guess that goes for everyone,” I say pointedly. “It makes sense now. Everyone became quiet anytime I mentioned my parents.”

“I think we all knew it had to come from Cobra.”

“It didn’t make it hurt any less.”

“No, I didn’t expect it would,” he replies, sighing as he leans over the table. “Grief is a fucked up thing, babe. It’ll consume you if you allow it to. It will make you question everything, your beliefs, your purpose…every damn thing.”

“What about you? Are your parents still alive?”

Reaching for his drink, he shakes his head.

“My father died a couple of years back and my mother…well I’m sure she’s dead too,” he says, taking the straw between his teeth. The instant he speaks of his mother, his whole demeanor changes and I decide to give him the same respect he’s given me. I leave it alone and ask about his dad.

“I’m sorry,” I start. “Your dad…were you close to him?”

“Sure was,” he admits, placing his cup down. Glancing at the jukebox, he avoids eye contact and continues. “He raised me,” he says hoarsely. “He showed me how to be a man and taught me the most important lessons anyone can learn,” he adds, turning his gaze back to me. “Yeah, grief fucks with you,” he confirms.

Reaching across the table I lace my fingers with his and lift them slightly off the table.

“Is that what you overcame?” I ask, diverting my eyes to the letters on his hand.

“No.”

Silence stretches between us as he pulls his hands back and shakes his head.

“I didn’t overcome shit,” he confesses. “When I got the tattoo, I thought it would motivate me to change my ways and push me to move forward.”

“To overcome,” I add.

He nods.

“But these hands, they’ve seen too much blood and no tattoo, no word can change the fact that I see her blood every time I look at them.”

“Her?”

Blinking, he stares at me as if I said something outrageous. Catching his mistake, realizing he said more than he intended, he draws in a deep breath and closes his eyes.

“Your brother is right,” he rasps, finally opening his eyes. “I’m not the guy you get attached to.” He rubs his hands over his face before he drops them over mine. “I’m the guy who will be a small part of your journey, not the one who travels it with you and sees you to the end of it.”

Awareness settles over me, making my gut clench. Discovering I had my life back, that I had a future, I figured I had all the time in the world, but Deuce either didn’t have much time or he was choosing not to give me much of it. While I was living day by day, Deuce had already put a time stamp on us.

Again, he pulls back his hands and lifts his hips. Reaching into his pocket he pulls out a few quarters and drops them on the table

“Have at it, Bonnie,” he says, tipping his chin toward the jukebox.

“What’s your name?”

“What?”

“Your name, your legal name, what is it?”

“Ally—”

“I bet you don’t tell many people,” I whisper. “Am I right?”

Watching his neck, I see him struggle to swallow and then he gives me what I know not many have received.

“Caleb, my name is Caleb West,” he reveals, sending chills down my spine as his rich baritone voice blankets me.

“Caleb West,” I repeat, letting his name roll off my tongue. “I’m Alexandria Richardson,” I whisper, giving him a piece of myself.

A sacred piece I’ve tried to forget.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, darlin’,” he whispers.

“Now, when it’s over, I’ll have a piece of you not too many have and you’ll have a piece of me I won’t ever give anyone else,” I disclose with a forced smile. “You’ll always remember me and I’ll never forget you.”

The word over leaves a foul taste in my mouth and I already feel a little bit empty after having said it.

“I’ll never forget you, Alexandria Richardson,” he whispers and I suddenly feel like crying.

Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.

Maybe not.

But I’ve got tonight.

I’ve got now.

Swiping the change off the table, I blow him a kiss and turn to the jukebox. Depositing the change into the machine, I flip through the list of songs. Finding the perfect one, I make the selection and turn back to face Deuce. His brows knit together as he peers back, looking just as torn as I feel.

Jay Z’s voice sounds through the tiny speakers and I force a smile as he recognizes the song.

“Bonnie and Clyde?” he asks as he raises an eyebrow.

When you’ve lost so much, you cherish what you’ve got. For however long Deuce is meant to be in my life, I’m going to hang on with all I’ve got.

Until it’s over.

Until we’re just a memory.

Grabbing the fork off the table, I use it as a prop and pretend to know the words.

Down to ride to the very end.

I promise to give my life—my love and my trust.

I’ll be all he needs in this life of sin.