The Following Saturday

My salon had just closed for the day. I’d gotten changed into workout clothes and went down to see Rider, who was in my parking lot with Jesse.

Business was still ticking on, though I knew the listing had gone up quietly. I hadn’t been broadcasting it, but a few people had seen the listing and started asking questions, which wasn’t fun.

I’d been non-committal with my answers, saying, “It’s not easy to run a business. Just lookin’ at my options.” But inside, I was so effing sad.

I hadn’t seen my mother. At all. Not a word, not a text.

I hadn’t seen Deb, either. She sent me a long text telling me that she was sorry about how things had come to light, that she cared about me and was going to give me space, that she wasn’t coming in to work until I invited her to come.

If I didn’t want her back before the salon changed hands, that was okay, too. She told me she knew two upscale salon owners in Aberdeen who she would be happy to introduce me to if I wanted to work at either of their salons. My response was a ‘thumbs up’ emoticon to Deb. I didn’t have any words for her yet.

The business was in my parents’ names, but all the bank accounts were in my name; Dad hadn’t allowed Mom to put her name on them when our arrangement was made, so I just kept on like normal, with the exception of the day the real estate agent, not from my Dad’s firm, came in and had pictures taken and asked questions about the building specs so that he could set up the listing.

I wasn’t surprised my mother went to another realtor. I also wasn’t surprised it was sprung on me, rather than an appointment being made. It was Karen Murdoch’s style to inconvenience me while also shredding me.

I wasn’t a bitch, though suspected this surprised him. He likely got a warning from my mother. But, I was cooperative. He told me that if I was helpful with the transition to the new owners and they did plan to keep it as a salon, I could wind up with a job, if I wanted one. I might even be able to rent the apartment, if they were willing to keep it as a rental unit. It was all a ‘wait and see’.

Working here without it being mine? I didn’t want that. I didn’t say it to him, though. I was polite and professional. Living here while someone else ran the salon? No way.

Things with Rider and I were good. No, great. There was the cloud of all this salon stuff over us, but I tried not to let it consume all of my thoughts. At night, he made dinner and I cleaned up his ridiculously big messes.

We made love, we cuddled, he told me about his day. We went for a few long motorcycle rides.

One night, we made dinner and his Dad and brothers came over and hung out and watched a hockey game while me, Pippa, and Ella hung out in my room, watching a girlie movie.

I finally had a guy that I could lean on and I was worried my cloudy mood was going to make him get sick of me. But, he rolled with the punches. He was patient and loving and so sweet and nurturing. It was the only thing saving me from being in a full-fledged depression.

Things were quiet, for the moment, with the Wyld Jackals. Until that day. That day, the Jackals answered my earlier question about whether or not Rider and I would get out of this unscathed.

***

Rider was working in the parking lot behind my salon on a new bike. He’d decided to tinker with one of his builds and was doing it here instead of at the garage since the garage was jam-packed due to a surge in business. Spencer had come by, bringing all the bike piece in his pickup truck, parking here, and taking the Charger with him, planning to do a swap later.

I’d peeked out a few times, thinking that if I were keeping the salon, I’d have wanted to find out how much it’d cost to build a garage back there, just for his personal stuff. That way he could do his tinkering while I worked on Saturdays, which was when he usually worked on his custom bikes. The terrace overhang would be the perfect place to snug a garage into.

Since the salon was being sold, it was a non-issue.

“I have to go out,” I informed him.

Right then, we heard the roar of pipes. He stepped away from the bike he was working on and glanced down the alley and saw that on the main strip, a parade of motorcycles was going by. At least four or five of them. Wyld Jackals. Again.

Shit.

“Yikes,” I said.

Rider made a face. “That’s the third time they’ve done that today. Don’t like this.” He glanced at Jesse. “They’re driving by the Valentine block and the Forker’s house, too.”

“Rider? I have to go out.”

“Now?” he asked.

I glanced at my watch. “Yeah.”

“You can’t wait twenty minutes?”

“If I do, I’ll be late.”

“I can’t take you. Gotta finish this and get all this shit put away.”

“I’m gonna be late if I don’t leave in two minutes,” I said.

“Jesse? Shadow Jenna?”

Jesse was watching him, smoking a cigarette. He gave a nod.

“I don’t think you want that, Rider,” I advised.

Rider looked at me like he was losing patience with me.

I stared at him a beat. He stared back. And then he looked sorely pissed. “Are you fuckin’ serious right now? All this shit goin’ on and you’re gonna gimme a hard time about keepin’ you safe? Jackals driving up and down this strip like they’re ready to prove something and you’re being like this?”

“Nnnno….”

He gave his head a shake like he couldn’t make sense of me.

He was in a shitty mood today, for some reason.

“You want me to cancel my plans? If it’s not safe…”

“No. We need to live.” He looked to Jesse. “Keep alert.”

“Of course,” Jesse muttered and looked at me.

“You probably don’t want Jesse to come with me.”

I folded my arms across my chest and stared at him. A little smirk on my face.

Jesse shifted from one foot to another, also beginning to look like he was losing patience with me.

Rider leaned forward, just a little. “Jenna. Jesse comes with you. He doesn’t take his eyes off you unless you’re in the can and only after he’s looked first to make sure there’s no fuckin Jackals in there, looking to get their hands on you.”

“Really? You want him watching me the whole time?”

He looked to the sky, likely for deliverance, and Jesse looked at Rider like he wanted to knock some sense into him for having anything to do with me.

“Fine,” I shrugged and adjusted the strap of my Duffle bag that was over my shoulder. “Want me to drive or you, Jesse?”

“Gimme your keys.” Jesse held his hand out to me.

“Want a kiss goodbye, Rider?” I asked, placing my car keys in Jesse’s palm.

Rider looked at me like he wanted to strangle me, rather than kiss me. I had a feeling I might finally get myself some of that actual angry sex today. He hadn’t asked where I was going, but I was in workout clothes, so he must’ve figured I was heading to the gym or to Pippa’s yoga studio.

“Whatever.” I went to move away, seeing he was too pissed to kiss me. “See you after my pole dancing class.” I kept moving.

I was halted, Rider catching me by the back hem of my coat.

“Keys!” He snapped and held his hand out.

Jesse smacked the keys into Rider’s hand.

Looked like Rider had time to shadow me after all.

“Fuck,” Jesse grunted. Jesse looked like a dog who'd had his bone taken away. "Fuck. Couldn't've kept that last line to yourself, could ya, Jen?"

I laughed.

Rider glared at Jesse. “Can you put all that into Spence’s truck and wait till he gets here to pick it up?”

Jesse gave him the finger.

I laughed louder.

Jesse started lifting bike parts as Rider grabbed my hand and marched me to my Jetta.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” Rider growled into my ear as he opened the passenger door for me.

“Naw. You are. ‘Cuz you’re gonna have to watch fifteen girls swing around poles for ninety minutes and prove to me that I’m the only one of those girls making you hard.”

He bit into his bottom lip as he shut my door.

As he rounded the vehicle, he adjusted his jeans at the crotch on the way.

***

We were leaving the studio and he was quiet until we got into the car. When we got into the car, me tossing my Duffle into the back seat, he turned the ignition and put a hand to two and a hand to ten on the wheel. Rider blew out a slow breath and then said,

“You’re in so much trouble, Missy.”

I snickered.

I hadn’t exactly been honest with him. I had one-on-one classes with my instructor, a fifty-year-old dancer who had retired from exotic dancing, but she had a waiting list for her classes, because she was damn good.

And she told me that I was good enough on that pole to go pro. It helped that I had danced until I was 14 in jazz, tap, ballet, and contemporary, so I had rhythm.  I’d been taking her pole-dancing classes for almost two years and I knew I was good.

I called her a few days ago to renew my once-per-week membership, which was an expensive membership being one-on-one coaching. I knew my future was uncertain, but before all this drama, I loved it and I loved what it did for my body, so decided I’d give something else up to be able to take these classes.

I ate junk food a few times a week (or 100 garlic bread sticks) and somehow managed to keep svelte thanks to these once a week classes and twice a week classes with Pippa the Yoga and Pilates Sergeant. Pippa wasn’t all sweet and namaste with me. She yelled at me when I wasn’t perfect in pose.

I’d never had a guy see me do my pole dancing class before, and I knew I’d impressed him.

“I’d be in more trouble, I’m sure, if I’d let Jesse bring me.”

“Fuck.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “That’s for damn sure.”

And then he put an arm around my seat and looked over his shoulder as he backed out of there.

Two minutes later, we were on a backroad by the town dump, a deserted service road that no one really used.

“What are we doing back here?” I asked.

“Get over here.” He turned the car off, unbuckled my seatbelt, and then hit the button to recline his seat.

I climbed over, still wearing my workout tights.

“You got something else to put on in your bag?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Bottoms?”

“Yes….”

He looked down and grabbed the crotch of them with both hands and shredded them between my legs, exposing my panties.

I gasped.

“Rider Valentine!”

“Give me that mouth,” he demanded and then grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me to his waiting lips.

“Work my fly undone,” he ordered. “And take your spanking and fucking like a good girl.”

Holy shit.

I did it and rubbed all over his piercing.

“Get me in you.”

“Mm. You want in me?” I teased, rubbing my thumb over his piercing.”

He growled in my ear, “Right now, baby.” He slapped my butt.

I obliged.

It was fast, and it was furious. And my ass was definitely pink, because he slapped it about five times.

I whispered in his ear, coming down from my orgasm, “I want you to fuck me on your bike.”

He raised his eyebrows and yanked on the length of my hair and attacked my throat with his teeth.

“I wanna ride you, while we ride…” I walked my fingers up his chest to his mouth and ran my index finger along that sexy, pillowy bottom lip.

His eyes lit with fiery lust. “That’d be dangerous. Operating a dangerous machine … dangerously.” He laughed as he said dangerously and I giggled.

“I operate dangerous machinery every time I climb onto you,” I told him.

“Mm. Best get off the dangerous machine, so I can drive us home. Next time we fuck in a car, let it be mine. Not enough room in here.” I laughed and then I climbed between the front seats into the back and got into my Duffle bag to get my yoga pants out.. I switcheroo’d, and was still in the back seat, stuffing the ruined tights into my bag when I heard, “Fuck! Buckle up!”

“Wh…what?” I heard the sound of motorcycle pipes. He turned the ignition and we rocketed forward.

I looked over my shoulder and saw four motorcycles behind us, gaining on us.

Did they follow us?

“Fuckin’ cunts! Why can’t we be in the goddamn Charger?”

We were driving fast. I still wasn’t buckled up. I struggled to get the seatbelt fastened, because the motorcycles were trying to catch up to us.

Rider took a sharp right at the last second on a back road and the tires squealed as he did it, gravel flying everywhere.

I had one hand pressed against the door and the other clawing the back of the seat in front of me.

Oh God!

I was thrown around in the backseat a little, bouncing from one side to the other. We were spinning out and somehow, I miraculously got the middle lap belt done up. Then, there was the sound of screeching, the smell of burning, and glass breaking, metal crunching, as we smashed into a van. My front airbag was out, and Rider was wedged between his seat and the air bag.

I heard a loud ping noise and then a whole bunch more of them. I ducked and covered my head, staying low.

I heard a couple more ping noises. We were being shot at! I got the seatbelt off and turtled in the space between the passenger seat and the back seat.

My God! Rider!

And then I heard sirens off in the distance. I heard and felt the vibrating roar as motorcycles pulled away.  The van that we’d t-boned into backed away and pulled away, too.

Seconds passed while I was just, I don’t know, blinking? And the sirens were louder. I got up from my crouch and looked into the front seat and there was blood on the air bag. Rider was slumped into it. Unconscious.

“Rider?” I climbed between the seats.

He was definitely unconscious. His face was bloody, a cut over his eye.

“Baby?” I croaked.

I checked myself. No holes, no blood. The windows were all broken and there was blood on the windshield, blood on the dash, the air bag.

I choked on emotion.

I saw the flashing twirling lights through the spider web of my windshield. The cops.

The fire department and ambulance followed a minute or two later.

I heard them say he’d been shot. At least twice.

The front end of my Jetta was smashed in, but they got to him, got him out of there and onto a stretcher.

Someone talked to me. Someone got me to the back of the ambulance and checked my vitals. But I was just crying and begging Rider not to be dead as they were working on him.

I was banged up from bouncing around inside the car, a cut over my eye, a bump on the back of my head, but I was otherwise unharmed. Except on the inside. My heart was breaking. They had an oxygen mask on his face. They were leaving with him and me in the ambulance.

He was bleeding from his arm and from the right side of his chest and he wasn’t waking up amid all they were doing.

***

Ella and Deacon, Spencer, Deke, and my father and Deb were all in the waiting room with me. I didn’t know how they knew to come. Spencer got there first. I hadn’t stopped crying when I was asked questions, so I don’t know how anyone understood me when I told them our names.

They took him and now I was pacing. I couldn’t sit. I had a bit of tape over my eye in lieu of stitches. An ice pack for the back of my head.

I was pacing because Rider was in surgery.

I was pacing, because my heart was not inside my body right now. It was in Rider’s hands. If he didn’t make it, I would not survive. I would not.

I’d never ever felt like this. I’d never been through anything this frightening, this gut-wrenching. He was just lying there. My strong, vibrant, sparkling-eyed biker was just lying there, bleeding.

When Spencer got to me first, hugging me while the police fired questions at me, I wasn’t doing well, I wasn’t helping the police because I was falling apart. Spencer made me look into his eyes and told me to take deep breaths and calm down. And then he told me that I needed to talk to the police to help them catch the fuckers that did it, so that was when I was able to get coherent sentences out.

I’d talked to the police and told them about the four or five motorcycles that had been going up and down the street all day long. If someone identified who those four bikers were, and someone had to have seen them from all the busy shops along the street, that’s who the cops could arrest. That’s who either tried to kill us or who helped. That’s who might have succeeded in killing my beautiful biker.

I wasn’t sure if bullets came from the van, too, but I think they did.

Please no.

I spewed out as much detail out as I could, crying in Spencer’s arms the whole time.

“He flatlined on the way here, in the ambulance, Spencer. His heart stopped beating for a few beats, but they got it going again. If he doesn’t make it, I can’t, I can’t…”

It absolutely undid me to see them pumping his chest.

Spencer kept hugging me and rocking me until Deacon, Ella, and Deke arrived next. Ella took over the hugging and rocking then, until I couldn’t handle being hugged anymore.

By this time, Scooter, Jesse, and Bronto were with us. It was the first time I’d seen Bronto since he’d been shot. Andie and Pippa were there for a bit, but it was really crowded, so they left.

They all hugged me, but I was numb through the countless hugs and finally pleaded for people to stop hugging me.

More bikers showed up and Spencer and Deacon stopped them from crowding me. People brought coffee and donuts and pizza and more coffee and I was sick of getting asked if I wanted something so I just kept pacing, not wanting to be hugged or touched anymore.

After hours and hours of pacing, the doctor came out and asked for Deke, knowing he was Rider’s father.

Deke stood and put his hand on my shoulder. Ella got to the other side of me, there, in case, in case…

Deacon and Spencer were behind us. Ella’s Dad behind them.

“Please, please, please, God, please,” I chanted.

Ella was crying softly, holding tight to me.

I heard Deb’s voice hitch. She, too, was crying. She’d come in with Dad and they’d both hugged me before I cut off all the hugging, but I don’t think I was really all there at that point. I just kept pacing for hours and hours, refusing offers of coffee and food and whatever the eff.

The doctor started to speak, and the place was so quiet you’d hear a pin drop.

“Mr. Valentine, your son made it through surgery. The two bullets are out. We almost lost him twice during surgery. His heart stopped beating, but we got him back.”

My knees were Jell-O and they wobbled. Deke supported me by putting his arm around me. Deacon moved in behind Ella and put an arm around each of our waists.

“Tonight is critical. We have to just wait it out. It’ll probably be a long night. You’re welcome to visit with him for just a minute, but only one at a time. If he makes it through tonight, we can be cautiously optimistic.”

I pulled away from the teary-eyed Ella and then I was following the doctor, Deke behind me. I glanced back and saw Deacon holding Ella, looking so angry. Ella’s hand was on his jaw. She was trying to comfort him.

Spencer had his forehead and his palms against the wall.

Deke and me went in together, completely disregarding what the doctor had said.

Rider was connected to all sorts of machines, a breathing thing in his mouth.  His chest and shoulder were bandaged.

I leaned over and kissed his forehead.

Deke leaned over and did the same.

“Don’t you leave me,” I demanded.

Rider didn’t answer me.

“Don’t you dare, dare leave me, Rider Valentine. You’re in. You finally got inside my Kevlar and I need you to stay there.”

I could hear his machines. I could see all these numbers and graphs on the screens that told me he was still alive. I felt like I was falling apart, though. If he didn’t make it?

I started to lose it.

“He fought his way back three times, Jenna. Three times they’ve got his heart going again. He’s not givin’ up. Don’t you give up, Ride,” Deke ordered. “Don’t fuckin’ stop fightin’. You got a girl here waitin’ for ya. We don’t let those fuckers win, son. They do not get to win.”

I sobbed some more and sat in a chair beside his bed and put my hand on his. I kissed his knuckles and then I carefully put my head to the left side of his chest, cautious not to disturb any wires. I could feel it, sort of.

“I don't wanna hear these machines. I wanna hear his heart,” I told Deke.

 

“Jenna, darlin’... these machines here tell you his heart is beating.” His voice was gruff.

 

“But I wanna hear his heart properly. I know it sounds stupid, but... when I’m upset or freaking out, he always calms me down by getting me to listen to his heart,” I told Deke. “These machines are too loud.”

 

He gave me a nod and left the room.

“Please don’t leave me, Rider. I love you so much. I’m just getting my taste of that rainbow. We’re supposed to joyride through life. Winding roads. Babies.  Sex games. Angry sex. Riding the banister. I want all of that with you. Even the bad days. I’ll take a thousand bad days to have just a few good ones with you. You come back to me, okay? I’ll stop pushing you away. I promise.”

Deke was back with a stethoscope. I didn’t know where he got it, but I gave him an appreciative smile and put it on and put it to Rider’s chest and closed my eyes to listen. I moved the circle thing around until I found it loudest. I listened to the steady beat of his heart and tears just kept rolling down my cheeks, but I knew, I knew he’d come back to me.

They wanted me to go, but I wouldn’t. I stayed in my little chair beside his bed and stayed out of their way. Deacon came in. Ella came in. Spencer came in. That was it. They took turns trying to get me to eat or drink, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I heard them in the hallway talking and saying they’d called Jojo and told her. And then they kept talking about shit with the cops, about something about Gordino. I asked them to please go talk somewhere else and let me listen to his heart with my stethoscope in peace. My eyes closed, holding his hand. They left.

I guess I finally fell asleep, but woke up feeling my hand getting squeezed.

He was squeezing my hand. I straightened.

“Rider?”

He opened his eyes just a little and squeezed my hand again.

I pushed the button for the nurses, who were probably already on their way as they were watching his machines from some other desk, too. They started taking his vitals and asked me to step out in the hall.

I did, but stayed in the doorway so I wasn’t out of his sight.

His breathing tube got pulled out and I was invited to come back. I gave him some ice chips, and then he squeezed my hand and pointed to the stethoscope around my neck with a confused look on his face.

“Oh, I wanted to play hot dirty doctor with you. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.” I whispered this.

The nurse who was there smirked.

“Could you go tell his dad he’s awake? I don’t wanna leave him.”

She smiled and left us, saying, “Yes. The doctor’s gonna come, too, so pause the doctor game.”

She winked. I smiled at her and looked to Rider. “I was listening to your heart. It was settling me down. I was so scared.”

“C’mere,” he whispered, his voice all scratchy.

He reached for the stethoscope and I leaned forward. He put the circle on my chest kind of fumbly, he was definitely doped up, but I caught his drift. I lifted it up off my neck and put the circle to my chest and then put the ear pieces in his ears. I moved in and he drowsily reached forward and adjusted it until he found the right spot and then he listened to my heart, closing his eyes and smiling.

God, I loved him so much.

I closed my eyes and said a prayer of thanks.

***

A Week and a Half Later

Debbie took care of the salon until a few days after Rider was home from the hospital. She and I didn’t talk, but Dad had asked if I wanted her to take care of it and I’d gratefully nodded.

When she had been at the hospital and hugged me, then backed away and stood there with my father, I hadn’t even registered at the time how right they looked together. I was too busy falling apart and praying that the man I loved wouldn’t die.

Deb was dark-haired, like me, like Mom. She was shorter, petite, pretty, and bubbly. And she fit on my father’s arm like she belonged there. He looked worried, for me, but he looked happy with her.

My dad told me, at the hospital, that he’d told my mother what’d happened, that we were in a car accident, that we’d been shot at. That I hadn’t been hit, but that Rider had been shot twice and nearly died.

Mom didn’t text or call, and she certainly didn’t come.

I didn’t care. I didn’t need her. I had a family. A big, huge, beautiful noisy obnoxious loving family who were driving me crazy trying to take care of me, do things for me. People who accepted me as I am.

The crowd of bikers at the hospital had been seen in more than one pow wow. I knew they were planning their retribution. And I wanted to get in line with them, learn to shoot. Annihilate those bastards who had raped and killed Jet, who’d killed Lick, who’d sodomized Scooter, who’d tried to hurt Ella, and who’d almost taken Rider from me.

Rider was in the hospital for several days. Me at his side other than to sleep and shower (though I slept at the hospital that first night) and then we were home for a few days when I got the call from the real estate agent.

My business had sold.

Already.

***

It had gone into a minor bidding war between two buyers who must’ve seen it while Rider was in the hospital. No one had called me to say they were looking at it.

The winning bidder wanted to take possession within two weeks. The bidder wanted to meet with the current manager in two days. And that would be me.

I wasn’t happy. To put it mildly. I knew this was coming, but couldn’t believe my mother hadn’t put it on hold with me almost losing Rider.

I was freaking out about having to move, having to pack and get us a place when Rider was still recovering from two effing gunshot wounds.

He was recovering well, and he was definitely enjoying how much I was pampering him. I couldn’t cook well, but I warmed up soup and made him deli sandwiches and bagels with smoked salmon cream cheese. I ordered in food. Pudge did several food runs for us and stayed and ate with us more than once. He wasn’t Mr. Personality, but he seemed to like hanging out at my place.

Rider and I hung out in my bed and watched movies and played video games a lot.

I brushed his hair and gave him backrubs. He told me when he was well enough, he wanted me to shave him. He told me he wanted me to shave him in one of my salon chairs and said he’d been having a fantasy about us having sex in one of those chairs with shaving cream all over his face.

I told him I’d try to make that happen before the salon changed hands. And then I gave him a blow job but didn’t let him take care of me.

I could wait a few days. He didn’t want to. 

He also asked me about installing a stripper pole in my bedroom, so I wouldn’t have to leave the house to go to stripper-cize classes anymore.

I’d winced at that comment, but he teased me for it.

“Hey. I took us to a backroad without protection when we were under threat. Not you, gorgeous. Do not take that on.”

He acted angry that I was taking any blame, so I relaxed, not wanting him stressed.

I shrugged and told him maybe we’d set up a pole in our new place. He rubbed my back when I went all sad again, thinking about moving.

We had outdoor patrol set up. There were constant drive-bys and the Dominion Brotherhood presence on my street was strong.

The police could not find any sign of a blue cargo van with signs of T-Bone damage. They did, however, have an idea who had been driving the motorcycles due to the footage from some security cameras around the businesses on my street.

We were waiting to see how that panned out, but Rider told me not to be surprised if it didn’t go far. The shootout happened in a more secluded part of town without cameras on every corner.  Unfortunately.

But, Rider did tell me that revenge was on the horizon, not just because he’d almost been shot dead, but also because they’d tried to shoot us both. It was mentioned more than once that my car was riddled with bullet holes and it was a miracle we’d both survived and an even bigger miracle that I hadn’t gotten shot even once.

For a change, luck seemed to be on my side. I’d take it.

***

I dragged myself into the bedroom after the phone call from the realtor, which I’d taken in the kitchen while folding some clean laundry.

“What’s up?” he asked, shifting upright in bed.

“The salon sold,” I said softly.

My chin trembled.

“C’mere,” he patted the bed.

I climbed up and sat.

He put his arm around me.

“What’s the story?”

“I don’t know, really. There was a bidding war. Someone won. It’s closing in two weeks. We need to find a place to live. I need to find a job.”

“Don’t worry.”

“I have to pack and figure out where to put my stuff, and…maybe they’ll take the salon in two weeks and I can get them to give us an extra two weeks before we have to leave the apartment.”

“Don’t worry about it. We can take a little holiday at the cabin for a few weeks, maybe. Put all your stuff in storage. Then go from there.”

“Yeah?” I asked.

He nodded. “Or how about we go to the Caribbean for two weeks? Come back and see what’s what.”

“I don’t wanna be that far yet, Rider. Not with the Wyld Jackals threat still kind of active.”

“It’s not gonna be active much longer, believe me.” His eyes were cold.

“What’s going on?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.” He booped my nose.

I scrunched it up and pretended to bite his finger.

He pulled me close.

“You okay?”

“No. But I will be.”

“What would you rather?” he asked, using words I’d said to him after we first got together.

“Hm,” I mused. “I win the lottery and buy the salon off whoever bought it and we live here two more years and then we move into my parents’ house and start planning a wedding and babies.”

“Two years?”

“We need two years for just us at least. Maybe get engaged after a year and then I have a year to plan our wedding. We get married and I get pregnant a year after that and then we have three or four babies, bam, bam, bam. And then I hire a personal trainer and get my body back after all that baby-making and we live happily ever after.”

“Hm.” He smiled.

“Sound good? Or am I scaring you off?”

“You run the salon, I build bikes, fix cars and bikes.”

“And we ride. And much as possible. Sidecars for the babies.”

He laughed. I laughed.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Easy. Wanna make all your dreams come true, gorgeous.”

I smiled. “There’s gotta be something you want,” I said.

“There is.”

“What?”  I ran my fingers through his hair.

“You to let me take this ass.” He grabbed my butt cheeks.

“You know the deal…” I told him.

“Four carats?” he asked.

“Yup.”

“Close your eyes, Jenna.”

I laughed. And then my heart skipped a beat. What? No.

“Close ‘em’.”

There was no way. No way. He couldn’t have bought a ring this soon. Not only not this soon, but he’d gone from the hospital to my apartment and hadn’t been alone to go out and do any shopping. His brothers and the prospects and members had been in and out but surely, he hadn’t tasked someone with a job that important? Please, God, tell me Pudge didn’t pick out an engagement ring for me.

I heard a drawer open and then I heard some crinkling.

Crinkling?

I felt something weird slide onto my finger.

What? A weird heavy weight was on my finger. Way heavy.

“Open ‘em’”

I opened my eyes and I busted up laughing. On my ring finger was a very large, very blue Ring Pop candy ring.

“That’s gotta be at least twenty, thirty carats, right?”

I threw my arms around him and busted up laughing.

That he could make me laugh like this five minutes after I found out my mother had my dream sold out from under me was amazing. And that was because I had a new dream. And it was to be with him wherever that road took us. Whether I had my own salon or worked for someone else? It didn’t matter. Life would be what we made of it.

I didn’t let him take my ass that night, though. Despite the gesture. He tried to sweet talk me into it, but I said no.

“Exit only.”

“C’mon, baby. I’ll make it good. Promise, I’ll convert you.”

Maybe I’d give it to him eventually.

He made love to me, carefully, sweetly, since he was still recovering. And of course he got his finger in there again just before I came. He was definitely working on working me up to it.

***

Three Days Later

I had to meet with some jerk who bought my salon at eleven o’clock. The realtor had left very vague details on my voicemail.

Rider informed me at eight thirty that morning that he had a doctor’s appointment and I was upset that I couldn’t go with him. He told me not to worry, that his brother would take him. Spencer turned up and they left at 8:45.

I had Jesse shadowing me. I lackadaisically strolled in at 10:59. The salon was open. My mother was sitting there in the waiting area. So was my father.

They were arguing. Of course. Debbie was there, too.

“You guys need to go. I’m meeting with the new owner in, like, one minute.”

Mom eyed me up and down.

I barely looked at her. I didn’t have time for her nonsense. She knew that Rider had almost died. She knew I’d been shot at. And this was the first time I’d seen her.

“It was requested we were all here,” Dad said.

Pippa wasn’t here yet. She was busy getting Joe’s apartment painted and looking for a new spot to do nails from. She was thinking of setting up a mobile nail bar and waxing business.

I was planning to see what was what with this meeting and then ask Jesse to talk to the other prospects about rounding up some moving boxes for me and helping me pack up the apartment. Rider had distracted me (with his penis or his mouth) every time I’d tried in the past three days to get started on packing.

I’d heard that Deke and Spencer were still staying at the Forker’s house, but that they were thinking about breaking ground on a new compound in the spring, behind the existing property. Deke was in negotiations for the land back there.

Maybe we’d go see some houses, too. Maybe we’d get a little for-now apartment, or grab a place with Deke and Spencer temporarily and I’d see what was what with my parents’ divorce so that I could consider moving into their house when that was done with.

I saw Spencer’s silver pickup truck pull up in front of my salon and I did a double take. What was he doing here?

He and Deke got out of his truck and then I saw Rider.

Wait.

Rider?

He was approaching the salon, wearing a suit, holding a file folder. He’d had a haircut.

A haircut!

His hair hadn’t been cut super short, but barely grazed his collar bone, and he was in a suit!

He opened the door and came in. His dad and Spencer behind him.

“Why did you do that and who the fuck touched your hair?”

He stopped, looking startled. His lips twitched.

I folded my arms across my chest.

“You don’t like it?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I have a meeting like… five minutes ago. All of you have to go. I…” I shook my head. “Why did you go get a haircut?”

“I’m your eleven o’clock,” he said.

I gave him a gawking stare.

My mother got to her feet. “What’s the meaning of this?”

I glared at her annoying attitude and my eyes moved back to Rider.

“I bought the salon for you, Jenna. The building. All of it.” Rider handed me the file folder filled with papers. “Well, Dad helped.” He smirked at his father.

Deke gave me a big smile. “After we got into a bidding war with your father.”

My mother snickered. “Right.” She was filled with disbelief.

My dad was standing there smiling, not looking in the least bit surprised. Deb was smiling, too.

Mom realized that this was really what was happening.

She made the most ridiculous huffing noise I’d ever heard come from her. Her face was beet-red and then she stormed out. Storming out, she stumbled on the runner by my shop’s front door and nearly wiped out.  I reached to help steady her, but she didn’t allow it. She was gone.

If I hadn’t been in such shock, I’d have laughed out loud. Karen Murdoch never let people see her sweat, let alone stumble.

Was this really happening?

I grabbed Rider’s hand and pulled him into the utility room.

“Are you serious?” I asked, shutting the door.

“A hundred per cent. It’s yours, gorgeous. All yours.”

“How? You had that much money?” I asked.

“I got a mortgage. My dad co-signed.”

“No way would the bank my mother works for okay that. She’d find out, somehow, and nix it.”

“Wasn’t her bank. In fact, I’m thinkin’ she’s got a rivalry goin’ on with that other bank down the street. And I may’ve name-dropped a little over there,” he shrugged.

“Your Dad really co-signed?”

“I got a nice down payment down. I had money in the bank. It cleaned me out, but he already has an offer on the house back in Sioux Falls and he’s splitting the money between me, Deacon, Joelle, and Spence. Isn’t even listed yet. Good offer. I’ll have my nest egg back in a coupla months. The neighbor wants to buy it for his son for a wedding gift. Money’s comin’ through for insurance for the Roadhouse to get re-built. Business is pickin’ up at the garage and the dealership is selling bikes like hotcakes. We hired Jesse to help out at the garage while I’ve been laid up, but it’s busy enough, we’ll be able to keep him on. We’re in good shape.”

“But to co-sign?” I winced.

“Books looked good to the bank. Your dad submitted copies. Your dad headhunted that realtor, too, that’s how we kept things on the DL with your mother.  I told Dad you’ve got money coming to you when you turn thirty, so we’ll re-do the mortgage then if you need one at that point. But, he woulda co-signed anyway. I just told him I believe in you.”

My God. That felt really good.

“Besides, when we figured out we were bidding against your dad, he said as soon as we moved the paper to our names, your ma would lay off and he could even switch things, get you access to money to buy it off me soon as their divorce is final. If you weren’t okay with it being in my name... it’d only have to be for maybe six months or so, dependin’ on how long your ma tortures him with the divorce. Then your Dad could buy it from me and give it to you. I got a mortgage with no penalty if I pay early.”

“How was Dad gonna do this without Mom knowing?”

“He said he was putting it through his company. He was shuffling things around to keep it for you, so your mother wouldn’t know. When we found out we were both trying to bid on it, we talked about a way it’d work out for everyone.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He laughed. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“I’ve been so stressed,” I said.

“I didn’t know for sure how it’d all play out. Only got the approvals four days ago. Started the ball rolling as soon as I was able after getting shot.”

“But you let me stew for how many days?”

“You gonna forgive me?”

“Of course I am,” I said. I was in absolute shock. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

He smiled. “It’s for us. Your salon but our future. I’ll live here, too. You okay if it’s in my name for a while?”

“It can stay in your name forever. I don’t care. I’m gonna build you a garage out back,” I told him. “So you can work on your custom bikes.”

“Great idea,” he said.

I stared off into space for a moment, letting it all absorb.

“No tears?” Rider asked.

I blinked at him.

He chuckled and folded his arms. “I make you dinner and you cry. I save your business, Pippa’s business, and your home, and hand it to you and….nothin’. I do not understand women.”

“Who cut your hair?”

He laughed. “Ah, that’s it.”

I backed him against the door. “Did you let some strange woman touch this hair?”

He looked at me with a heated expression.

“If I did, would you get in a cat fight with her?”

“Damn straight.”

“You don’t like the haircut?”

“I love it. You look amazing. You looked amazing before. But, yeah. You’re like… a girl’s wet dream. I have a major lady-boner.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” I ran my fingers through it. It was to his collar. He had a long sideswept bang half in his eyes. It was super sexy. And the dark suit he was wearing? It fit him like it was tailor-made.

“A gay man at that place a few blocks from the garage cut my hair. No female but you is allowed to touch it.”

“Good,” I smiled. “Why’d you cut it?”

“I’m a respectable business owner. Wanted to look the part.”

“Grow it back,” I ordered.

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“But you need more suits.” I ran my hand down his lapel.

“Better buy me some.”

“I will.”

“Let’s go upstairs and you can start paying off your rent.”

“My rent?” I asked.

“Yeah. Since I’m not only your boss now, but also your landlord.”

I laughed and threw my arms around him. “I fucking love you.”

And then I started bawling in his arms.