With Jess at my side, I stood in front of the counter and mentally prepared to explain my situation. The woman on the receiving end of the conversation was a few days from retirement and had advised us that her departure party was scheduled at the end of the day.

I made comment about her beautiful snow-white hair and grinned.

She smiled in return.

Then, I placed my suspended driver’s license on the counter between us and began to explain. “If you look up my name, there’ll be several infractions, and some pretty significant fines and fees. I’d like to get those resolved, but there’s a catch.”

She reached for my license. “Let’s have a look.”

After a moment, she shifted her gaze from her computer to me. “Your driver’s license has been suspended.”

“I’m well aware.”

She glanced at the screen. Her eyes widened slightly. “A warrant is scheduled to be issued next month.”

“I’m privy to that, too.”

“Are you wanting to pay for everything today?”

“That’s where the problem comes into play,” I said.

She alternated glances between Jess and me. “What problem?”

“There should be four violations, all dated within a few weeks of one another, one of which is a parking ticket. Parking in a handicap stall.”

She reviewed the information on the screen. “That’s what it shows.”

“Here’s the problem. I will not pay the parking ticket. In fact, I can’t. Not today, not ever. I didn’t park in a handicap stall. I parked on a sidewalk. I’ll pay an additional fine, I suppose. Or an additional fee. You can shuffle it around however you like. But, I want a detailed printout. If there’s a line item for a parking ticket, I won’t pay it.”

Jess leaned in front of me. “He’s stubborn,” she whispered.

The woman grinned. “This is my last day. Let me see what I can do.”

After several failed attempts, she called over her supervisor. She explained the situation to him. He poked a few keys on the computer, swiped his ID through a reader, and then typed something on the keyboard.

“That should do it,” he said.

She looked at the screen and smiled. “How does speeding, illegal lane change, and eluding an officer sound?”

Those were the three tickets I’d received a week before the parking ticket. It had been a shitty day, and I was in a bad mood. When the officer tried to pull me over, I decided I’d simply speed through traffic and outrun him. A few miles later, his friends were waiting for me.

It was a long night.

“Is that it?” I asked. “Nothing else?”

“Those three. The fine will be a total of seven hundred and eighty-six dollars.”

“Can I look at it?”

She turned the monitor, so I could see it.

“Looks great,” I said.

I paid the fine. A review of the receipt showed nothing of the parking ticket. Technically, I didn’t pay the parking fine. In short, I’d won the battle. I folded the receipt, put it in my pocket and looked at Jess.

“I’ve got something I want to show you.”

“What?”

“Give me your keys,” I said. “I’ll take you there.”

Fifteen minutes later, she stood in front of the finished bike and smiled. “I love it. It’s pretty. Are you thinking about buying it?”

“It’s ours.”

She spun around. “What?”

“They just finished building it for me.”

She studied it, and then looked at me. “It only has one seat.”

“On that kind of bike, you use a suction cup seat on the rear fender,” I explained.

She chuckled. “Just like Erik did with Kelli.”

“That’s right.”

She tilted her head to the side and gave me a look. “He didn’t have a big seat on his bike because it didn’t look cool.”

“Sounds about right.”

She faced me. “Do you have a suction cup seat?”

“They’ve got one inside.”

“I suggest you buy it,” she said. “Because I’m not sitting on the fender.”

After buying the seat, I gave her instructions on how to ride, where to place her feet, and the precautions she’d need to take with the hot exhaust.

It was Jessica’s maiden voyage on a motorcycle. It was also the first time I’d had a woman on the back of my motorcycle in many, many years. She was a natural rider. Short of her hands wrapped around my waist, I didn’t realize she was behind me.

I crept along the highway’s on-ramp. “How’s a hamburger sound?” I asked over my shoulder.

“You’re not stopping already, are you?”

“No. I was going to head to Stearman Field. An hour away, give or take.”

“Stearman Field that Kelli and Erik rode to?”

“That’s the one.”

“I’d like that.”

I twisted the throttle, speeding up to merge into traffic. In checking the rear-view mirror, I saw Jessica was wearing a look of content that I hadn’t seen since our loss. An hour later, when we pulled onto the runway at Stearman Field, my face was plastered with the same look.

I realized I’d never forget what happened. Nor would I ever be completely free of the lingering pain.

The ride on that day, and on the many days that followed, slowly began to cleanse my soul. The therapeutic properties of riding were undeniable. We spent that summer on the bike as much as possible.

I released the boxer book I’d been working on and didn’t release another book for four months. It was hard to write when I was riding. My followers and devoted fans didn’t understand why I took the break from writing. I never shared with them the tragedy that Jess and I suffered.

When the summer was coming to a close, the MC started to plan the year’s poker run. One night, Jess and I rode to a planning party at a local biker tavern. It was to be the night that she finally got to meet everyone in the club.

I knew the night would be a special one for many reasons. When we arrived, Jess looked at the sea of motorcycles parked in the lot.

“Holy cow,” she exclaimed. “They’re all inside?”

“It’s going to be wild,” I said. “Not everyone is with us. Just pay attention to who’s wearing kuttes.”

“Okay.”

We got off the bike and walked inside. Just through the door, The Big O stood. Jess hadn’t met him yet. She knew nothing of his involvement in ridding her of the thorn that had been in her side for years.

She simply knew that one cold winter’s day, her ex disappeared from the picture. He was still around, and I knew it. I further knew he’d never step foot within a hundred yards of her, thanks to O.

He opened his arms and grinned an ear-to-ear grin. “You must be Jess.”

I’d told her enough stories that she knew just who he was. As if they were long lost friends, she rushed to him and gave him a hug. The top of her head came to just over his belly button. As he held her, he looked at me and gave me a wink.

Three chapters of our MC were gathered in the bar that night. Back slapping, hugs, wild stories, and beer drinking were aplenty. As Jess and I sat and listened to one of the brethren’s stories, King and his Ol’ Lady sat down at our side. I stared at them in shock but knew not to express myself verbally. In the years that I’d known him, I’d never seen a woman within fifty feet of him.

After introductions, I looked at him and smiled to myself. Even things that are etched in stone, I decided, have the capacity to change. On that night, mysteriously, they did.

When Jess and I returned home, we made love. It was the first time we’d done so in a long, long time.

We hadn’t recovered, but we were on our way.

One mile of open road at a time.