Page 17 of Sinners MC: A MC Anthology

“Good. Then I’ll have to introduce you to the rest of the guys.” Capone smiled while trying to guess what her reaction would be.

Saige lifted her chin. “Is this a dangerous club or just a bunch of guys having a midlife crisis?”

“We have a few old timers in the group, but most are just bad to the bone. I promise not to kill anyone in front of you or make you an accessory to a crime.”

“What?” Her eyes widened again as Saige finished off her juice. “Are you serious? What do you do? How bad is it?”

“I can’t tell you. I’d have to show you,” he teased. “Interested?”

Her finger traced a circle on the tabletop as she seemed to ponder her answer.

“Well? Do I introduce you to the club on the back of my bike or do I take you somewhere else?” Never one to believe in luck, he still crossed his fingers under the table.

Her eyes lit up for the first time since she’d come into his life. “Bike.”

“That’s my girl.”

Saige

He took it easy on her, but then what did she expect? Maybe he’d just made that up to scare her. They didn’t go to a notorious drug deal with Russian warlords or sell guns to gangbangers. Instead Capone took her for a ride on his bike to some of his favorite spots. Local places, some that she knew about but never stopped at while others she knew well but never remembered seeing him there. It was hard to believe they’d grown up in the same small town but had never met. Sure, he was a few years older than her, but they’d probably at some time passed each other in a school hallway.

Capone was tall, dark, and exotic. She’d been so painfully shy in her younger years; Saige most likely had her nose in a book and never looked up. Most of her time had been spent on the lake. She even did a stint working on the mail boat in Genoa. The early morning cruise that tourists adored was how locals living on the lake received their post. The mail boys or girls would jump off the front of the boat and onto the dock, put the mail in the postbox, and then hop back on the back of the large ship.

The boat went slow, but occasionally one would miss getting back on board in time. Her first day was humiliating, yet her parents wouldn’t let her quit. She looked like a drowned rat after falling twice. At least the riders were kind and cheered when Saige made it after her third attempt.

“What are you thinking about?” She and Capone sat on the dock eating some lunch they’d picked up. It was nothing fancy, just some burgers and fries, but it was the company that made it better.

“You know the mail boat they do in the morning in Genoa?”

“Of course. The tourists love that.” He dipped a French fry in ketchup and fed it to her. “What made you think of that?”

“I used to do that.” She laughed. “Well, in the summers during high school.”

“I worked at the pier as a busboy in those days.”

They talked for another hour about growing up where they did. Capone was easy to talk to and never judged, unlike her parents. It was hard to believe that he was such a talented artist and yet also the member of a gang. The same could be said about his face. So handsome and stunning on the one side, yet scarred and tragic on the other. It just made him more appealing to her. Gave him more depth than the people she was used to hanging around, and best of all, he seemed just as interested in her.

The next place they traveled was a scenic overlook. It had a stunning view of the valley below.

“I recognize this place.” She rushed to the viewing sight.

“Here I thought I might be taking you someplace new.” Capone leaned his elbow on the railing closest to the edge.

“You did, but this was one of your paintings.” She mirrored his stance and inhaled his scent. He didn’t wear cologne but smelled of leather, pine, and whatever fresh shampoo he’d chosen this morning.

“I never paint anything that I don’t love looking at, that doesn’t make me feel something, or that doesn’t make me happy. This is one of those places.”

“But you do other works of art, right? Like you did in school.” That he was such a talented painter still mystified her.

“Of course, but right now I do it solely for pleasure.” He was quiet for a moment. “You really think people might be interested in buying some?” It was hard to believe he didn’t realize it.

“Absolutely. I know for a fact they would.” Her mind raced with ideas. She still kept up with what was going on in town and knew for a fact there was retail space on Main Street that would make a great gallery. They could sell the originals at a high price and make copies to sell cheaper. The tourists would love a keepsake to take home with them. Even the portraits he’d done were masterpieces. “I know many of my parents’ friends that would pay a fortune for you to do their likeness to hang in their mansions. You would be the eccentric artist that rides a motorcycle and paints on the side.”

“What about you? Would you consider staying here and helping me sell them?” His eyes focused on her as if trying to see through to her soul.

Until the last few moments, she’d not really thought about it. But there was nothing holding her in the Windy City. Saige hadn’t felt like she belonged there either, but maybe she just hadn’t found the right people to hang around with. Being with Capone, she felt comfortable in her own skin.

“Maybe.” She turned to look at the view again. “Maybe I will.”

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