Page 13 of Dodge

“Custom?”

Dodge shook his head. “Nope. Keep it classic.”

Brick grunted. “Good idea. Like it. What about the Karmen Ghia?”

“Starting on that one after the Goat.”

Katie Grace came back and placed two tall red plastic cups in front of them. “Food will be up in a minute.”

Her smile lingered on Dodge before a woman yelled that her kid just spilled his juice all over the floor.

“Little young for you, ain’t she?” Brick asked once she was gone.

Dodge shrugged. “Out of high school and above the age of eighteen, so technically no, but she’s more like my little sister. I’ve got too much going on for dating anyway.”

“Heard Mallory is back.”

Brick’s gruff words stiffened Dodge’s back. “She’s in a tough spot. I’m just helping her out.”

“She’s been in a lot of tough spots.”

Dodge had nothing to add. Brick was right. Mallory had been in many bad situations over the years, drifting in and out of his life with regular chaos. First she was the neighbor, then the girlfriend, then the lover, and finally the wife. But in between those titles, she also became the liar, the cheater, the moocher, and the thief.

He still took her back every time. Perhaps he felt sorry for her, as he had firsthand knowledge of the shit show she grew up in, but at what point did a person stop milking their life’s sob story and stand on their own two feet?

Not today, apparently.

Brick plucked a napkin from the dispenser and ran it over the table. “I ain’t your daddy to tell you what to do. You’re a grown man. You got the right to make your own decisions and live by the consequences. Betsey ain’t too happy ’bout Mallory, but we got your back. Always will.”

Dodge gave a nod to the older man as their food arrived.

The Dragon Runners MC had saved Dodge from the path he trod years ago. His mother left the family before he formed any lasting memories of her. That left him and his father to coexist in a household devoid of love. Sure, Dodge got the basics—food, a bed, clothes, school supplies—but that was it. His dad didn’t spend time helping him with homework, conversing about sports, attending school functions or games. Boyer Plott’s life composed of work at the Fed-Ex warehouse, then home to eat a frozen microwave dinner and watch TV until bedtime. Dodge played football throughout middle and high school, and not once did his father attend a game. They never took vacation trips to the beach, or Disney World, or anywhere for that matter.

Dodge had two bright spots in his childhood and teenage years. One was his art. He was never happier as a kid than when he had a new sketchbook and colored pencils. Pages and pages of cartoons, superheroes, mountain landscapes, the river, robots, and more flowed from his fingers to the paper. His favorite subject to draw was the motorcycles that roared up and down the roads, and their riders. He drew elaborate fantasy bikes with huge wheels riding through flames or skimming over water.

He’d met Brick for the first time when he was twelve. His dad was getting a haircut at the barbershop, and Dodge waited outside on a bench with his ever-present sketch pad in his hands. He’d been working on a motorcycle he’d drawn from his imagination, superimposing the picture over a dragon with an elongated head, large wings in full flight, and spewing flames. A shadow had fallen over his book, and Dodge looked up to see Brick standing over him.

Even as a child, Dodge knew who Brick was and about the Dragon Runners MC. There was a healthy amount of fear they generated, but not once had he seen anything but respect in the eyes of the townsfolk for the biker club. Rumors around school were they helped keep the small mountain city clean of drugs and they had enough businesses to employ many people.

“That’s some talent you got there. Great fire details. That’d be a really cool custom job on the side of my Harley. Come see me for a job when you get old enough to work.”

Dodge’s passion was born that day, along with his goal of becoming a Dragon Runner.

Then there was Mallory. She and her mother, Sylvie, moved into the cookie-cutter two-bedroom house next to the one Dodge and his father occupied. At first, Dodge thought Sylvie was sweet on his dad, but if she was, it didn’t last long. A rotating string of men lived in that house over the years. Seven of them became “husbands,” but Dodge never heard or saw a wedding. Most of them stayed a while and left. It was always obvious when Sylvie had a new man, as Mallory would frequently spend her days outside the house. Dodge stepped in often, taking care of the young girl. Sylvie and husband number eight moved away shortly after Mallory turned eighteen. The girl was left on her own, and that was when Dodge stepped in permanently.

He’d been stepping in ever since.

Brick interrupted his thoughts as two brimming plates were placed in front of them. “Betsey’s doin’ a barbecue this weekend. You got a show somewhere?”

Dodge shook his head. “Nope. Not until AMA Vintage Motorcycle Days in July. Mute and Stud are going early to set up the display, but I don’t think Kat and Eva are gonna be there.”

Brick grunted and bit into an onion ring. “Mute will go as long as Kat is okay. Baby number two is comin’ soon.”

“I’m surprised Eva isn’t for a change. How many do she and Stud have now?”

Brick grimaced at the taste in his mouth. He reached for another napkin and spit the mess out, folding it away. “Ugh. Too much salt even for me. They got five now. All girls. Stud keeps saying they’ll keep going until they get a boy. I’d say he needs to quit before he ends up with his own softball team. I can’t imagine the dental bill for all them braces.”

Dodge chuckled. As perfect as Stud and Eva were physically, he doubted the girls would ever need braces, but again, Brick was right. Kids were expensive. He remembered how much his father complained about the cost of everything. Even now, during one of his sporadic visits to his only remaining parent, Dodge would get an earful of how expensive gas, food, and electricity had become.

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