Rip

 

I could tell something was up from the moment I walked into the shop on Saturday morning, after taking a few days off for an extended ride. The tension between Mick and Jessi was so thick that you could practically see it hanging there in the air. “Whoa, what happened?” I asked. They couldn't be stressing about a deadline, could they? Had I really thrown off their schedule by missing the past few days? Mick had agreed to let me go …

 

“Nothing,” they said in unison, both barely glancing over at me. Okay, this was going to be a pretty awkward work day, I guessed.

 

“So what do you want me to do, boss?” I asked Mick carefully.

 

He shrugged. “Why don't you ask Jessi?” he asked. “She seems to think she's the boss around here anyway.”

 

Whoa. I wondered if that meant Jessi had finally told him about her design for J.T.'s bike. It must mean that, though. I was impressed. I hadn't thought she had it in her. It was about time she started standing up for herself and building her own designs.

 

I looked over at Jessi, who was frowning at her dad. “Dad, you know what needs to get done better than I do,” she pointed out. “I haven't been here for most of the week, except for the last few evenings; I'm still trying to figure out what the status is on all of our projects.”

 

Mick slammed a wrench down on the floor. “Well, Rip, why don't you and Jessi go to your guy Sanders and pick up the parts that I requested from him. He should have them packaged up and ready to go.”

 

“Okay,” I said, even though that was really the task for one person, not two. But maybe he needed some time by himself to get over whatever this tiff with Jessi was. And maybe I could ask her about it if I got her alone.

 

“My car or your bike?” Jessi asked as we left the shop.

 

I snorted. “You're never getting on this baby,” I said, fondly patting my bike.

 

Jessi raised an eyebrow at me but didn't question it. “Okay, so my car then.”

 

“I'll drive, though,” I told her. “It's easier than trying to give you directions.”

 

Jessi looked like she wanted to argue for a moment, but then she shrugged. “I swear, though, if you drive like a maniac, I'm going to make you pull over and let me drive,” she warned.

 

I laughed and took the keys from her. “Sure thing, darling,” I told her. “Get in.”

 

We drove in silence for the first part of the trip, as I thought about how to approach this. I kept glancing over at her in the passenger's seat. She had already changed some since she'd started school; I noticed the differences. She wore a little bit of makeup now—not too much, but a little eyeliner and mascara most days. And I could see the difference in her personality as well. She was a bit spunkier, and she kept the office more organized. She wanted this, and I appreciated that drive.

 

Of course, the Hounds of Hades were hoping to get Greyhound Custom Motorcycles into their own hands, as a front for some of our more illicit operations, so eventually, she was going to need to realize she had to find another place for herself. Based on the designs that I had seen from her, though, that wasn't going to be a problem, and that was part of why I was hoping we did end up using her design for J.T.'s bike. Give her a little taste of success like that, and I was sure it would only be a matter of time before she was dreaming of working for some bigger company.

 

“What's up with you and your dad?” I finally asked bluntly.

 

Jessi startled a little and looked sheepishly over at me. “We just had a little disagreement, that's all,” she said, sighing softly. “He treats me like a child—he doesn't seem to realize that I've grown up.”

 

“He still won't look at any of your designs?” I guessed.

 

“It goes beyond that,” she told me. “The other night, he blew up at me for coming in at ten, and he's now set a curfew of 8 pm every night. I'm working so hard at school every day, and then he still wants me to come home and work for at least an hour every evening. I feel like all I'm doing at the moment is working on one thing or another, and I'm tired of it. I was having fun and making some friends, but now I don't even get to see them. I just wish-” She broke off shaking her head. “Sorry, I know this probably all sounds really dumb.”

 

“It's okay,” I smiled gently over at her. “I get that. I mean, not totally, because my parents never cared less when I came home or anything like that, but ...”

 

She snorted out a laugh. “And that's how you became this big, bad biker dude?”

 

I laughed as well. “Not really,” I told her. “I've just always been into bikes. I think I got my first book about designing bikes when I was, like, seven. And I was drawing all sorts of different bikes by the time I was ten. Not drawing them well, mind you.”

 

Jessi giggled. “Yeah, I was the same way, but that's mostly because I grew up around my dad's shop. I just always figured I'd be going into the business after him—I never really even considered that I had other options.” She sighed. “If only I could get Dad to see that, though. He wants me to do something else, and I just...”

 

“He wants you to be happy, I'm sure,” I said, shrugging a little. “That's all dads ever want for their daughters.”

 

“You would know?” Jessi asked, looking curious.

 

“I have a niece, Amanda. She's eight, and even though she isn't mine, I still want the world for her. Of course, if she wanted to go into automotive engineering, I'd be pretty thrilled about it, but I can also see where your dad is coming from. It's traditionally a man's field, and you could face some harassment or discrimination if you went into a bigger company. He knows that, and he just wants to keep you safe.”

 

She shook her head. “Yeah, he already thinks that one of my professors, Gary Ellsmith, is only being helpful to me because he wants to sleep with me.”

 

I gave her a strange look. “Gary Ellsmith? As in, the Gary Ellsmith?”

 

“Yeah, the Gary Ellsmith. Like I said, he's one of my professors, and he's just been so great to me. I go in to his office hours a lot, and he brought me out for drinks with some guys from the department a couple times as well. He's working with a contact that he has in Cleveland, and thinks he can get me an internship there in the fall, just for a couple weeks. But how cool would that be?”

 

I coughed lightly. “I mean, I don't know what kind of relationship the two of you have, but … Gary Ellsmith has a pretty bad reputation,” I said carefully. I didn't want Jessi to be offended or to accuse me of taking her dad's side on this, but she seemed a bit naïve and I just wanted to make sure she knew what she was getting herself into.

 

“What do you mean?” she asked. “You mean amongst Hounds of Hades or something like that? I know he loves bikes and has a pretty slick ride, but I really can't picture him as a biker gang member. What kind of illegal stuff does he do?”

 

“It's not that kind of reputation,” I told her. “Just … It's pretty well-known that he sleeps around with a bunch of people. A bunch of students. I'm surprised you haven't heard rumors about that around campus yet, but it could be that everyone already thinks you're sleeping with him.”

 

I could see Jessi getting angry from the way she clenched her hands into fists and the way her face tightened around the edges. “Gary just thinks I have a lot of potential, that's all,” she told me. “It's all been strictly professional between us. How do you know that about him anyway? You're not a student.”

 

“It's pretty common knowledge around the biker community,” I said. “I've seen him around at a few rides, and he boasts about all of his conquests pretty openly.”

 

“That doesn't sound like the Gary that I know,” Jessi said, her eyes narrowing as though she thought I was making it up.

 

“Okay,” I told her, shrugging. I wasn't about to fight her on that. “I just wanted to make sure that you knew about his reputation, just in case.”

 

The rest of our ride was silent.