Page 8 of Spike

“I promise I’llstill be your wingman. I won’t let you down.”

He shrugged.“Well, at least your mystery date has a unique name. I mean, how many Trixiescan there be in Portland?”

What neither of usrealized was that it would, in fact, be impossible to find her.

CHAPTERTHREE

Spike

Present day…

“EASY, EASY, EASY!”Ropes shouted as I lowered the chassis. “Not so fast, you’ll scratch thechrome.”

“I’ve got it,” Ireplied.

“Don’t let it tiltor the frame will warp.”

I paused. “Doyouwanna do it?”

“No, you’re betterwith the forklift than me,” he replied.

I cocked my head.“Then how about you let me do my job?”

“Sorry, man. I’vebeen working on the wiring for three weeks and had to try five different motorsbefore I found the right one. If anything happens to the chassis before I canassemble this beauty and sell her, I’ll be forced to drown you in theWillamette.”

“If you’re gonnadrown me in a river, could you at least make it the Columbia? It’s cleaner andmore… majestic.”

“Tell ya what.Make it down from there safely and I’ll gladly let you choose the body of waterwhere your eventual homicide will take place.”

“Youdoknow the magic words,” I said, as I deftly maneuvered my payload down from highstorage to the ground.

“See. Not ascratch,” I said.

Ropes tussled myhair. “That’s my boy.”

My biologicalfather was a nomad biker my mother shacked up with from time to time before,and a little while after, I was born. He didn’t put his name on my birthcertificate, and he didn’t stick around long enough for the ink to have driedeven if he had. Growing up, my mother instilled in me the value of notharboring any bitterness for the man. She told me straight up that some peoplearen’t up to the task of parenting, and that we were better off not having aman like that around. Even as a little kid that logic made sense to me. Itdidn’t stop me from wishing I had a dad around, but I learned to make do withwhatever father figure happened to come into my life.

At the top of mylist of role models was Ropes. He served as a combination father figure andolder brother. He was the one who picked me up from the House on the day of myrelease, and I’d been under his tutelage and protection ever since. He taughtme about bikes, about club life, and what it means to be a brother. He was notonly my teacher, mentor, and the one who sponsored me for membership, but Ropeswas the only other guy in the club who loved to read as much as I did. As such,we could talk endlessly about nearly any subject, and often would, to thedismay of our brothers.

Ropes gave me athumbs up. “Park that thing and help me with final assembly, will ya? The buyeris coming to pick her up tomorrow morning and I need to make sure everything istip top.”

“I’d love to, butI can’t. I’ve got some work I’ve gotta do.”

“You tell dietThor, that whatever it is he needs you to do can wait an hour or two.”

“Not Sweet Pea’sorders,” I replied.

“Well, unlessyou’re doing something for Minus, tell whoever it is to fuck off and findsomeone else so you can help me.”

“You sure aboutthat?”

“Hell, yes,” Ropessaid emphatically.

“Okay, gimmie asec. I just need to text Devlin and tell her you said for her to fuck offand…what was it? I want to make sure I get the wording exactly how you saidit.”

“You text her onesingle solitary character and death by tributary will be too good for you.”

I slid my phoneback into my pocket.

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