Page 17 of Dodge

“Mighty nice, but I’ll just stay here in case someone comes to visit.”

Another sting pricked Dodge’s heart. Seldom did his father leave the dilapidated house and junky yard. He made extra money buying and selling parts he salvaged during the few trips he did make, but for the most part, Boyer’s world consisted of this tiny space. Dodge grew up going to school, playing football, displaying his art, and ultimately joining the Dragon Runners MC, all without his father’s blessing or participation.

Still, this man was his dad and needed the care of his son. “When was the last time you had a steak? I’ll run down to Ingles and grab a couple of rib eyes. After the work gets done, we’ll fire up the grill. Sound good?”

Boyer harrumphed and spat on the ground. “Might be nice havin’ a decent meal for a change.” The older man heaved his body up, and Dodge noted the slow movements. “Time’s a’wastin’.”

A third sting lanced Dodge’s heart. How often had he heard those exact words as he grew up? This was Boyer’s favorite way of ending a conversation. “Sure, Pop.” Dodge hesitated before sharing the news. “Mallory’s back. Staying with me for now while she’s looking for work.”

The older man didn’t stop his forward motion. “Best not spend your money on rib eyes. Hamburger meat is good enough for me.”

* * *

The job was a short one,but after the long day at the garage, Dodge’s energy waned quickly. In the end, his father reduced dinner to scrambling the last of the eggs he had in the refrigerator.

Dodge got on his bike. Through the curtainless window, he saw Boyer lean back in his worn recliner and flick on the TV. No wave or send-off, just a half-hearted goodbye. Dodge shook his head and wondered if his father even thought about him other than when he needed or wanted help.

Restlessness bubbled up in his gut. Running the Tail helped when he had the need to move, but fatigue and a curving twisted road were a bad combination. Too many people had been seriously hurt and some had lost lives because of making bad choices on the backs of their motorcycles. The problem was he didn’t want to go home yet. Not tonight.

He made a decision and plopped the helmet on his head. His brothers would be at the River’s Edge Bar this time of night, and he suddenly had the need to be around people who appreciated him.

CHAPTER10

The River’sEdge Bar was a surprise. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but this wasn’t it. The building was long and clean with a big stone chimney at one end, reminiscent of a giant log cabin. An open porch invited you to sit on several long benches that looked like split finished logs. I recognized chainsaw art when I saw it. A row of motorcycles lined up along the front of the building, and behind it, I glimpsed the moving water of the Nantahala River.

I sighed. This was the perfect spot for a bar restaurant, and I couldn’t help but envy the location. True, it wasn’t in town, but it was still off a main highway and easily accessible with plenty of parking space. This far out, I was sure noise wasn’t a problem, as there were no residential areas and only a few scattered houses along the road.

I stood in the gravel lot and stared for a few moments to gather my courage. Never in my life had I been in a biker bar. The closest I came to that culture was when I met Dodge so many weeks ago. The man still burned in my mind with his blond hair and fantastic body.

I shook my head to clear it. “Get it together, girl,” I said aloud to myself. “Gotta swallow a little pride, but it’ll taste better once you have your restaurant up and running.”

The volume of music and conversation hit me when I opened the door and walked in. It was early on a weeknight, but the crowd was still impressive. People lined up at the bar, and several tables were occupied. I bet they packed this place on weekends.

A server in jean shorts, a black bedazzled tank top, and boots sauntered by with a round tray in her hand. Her heavily made-up eyes darted to me, and then she stopped and stared with a cocked eyebrow. I had no illusions why.

A sea of White male faces turned to look at me, the oddball newcomer. This was not the first time I’d been the only Black female in the room. Hell, it wasn’t the first time I’d been one of few women around period. Most of my professional life had been that way, considering culinary school was still mostly male dominated, but I couldn’t say I was used to it.

My heart sped up and my feet urged me to turn around and leave; however, I needed this favor that woman Betsey promised. She said I could come by anytime. Best-case, she was here and I could talk to her. Worst-case, I just embarrassed the shit out of myself and would have to figure out another way to get the restaurant furniture to my place. Nope, scratch that. Worst-case would be asking my parents for help again. I’d rather sell a kidney than deal with that scenario.

I cleared the lump in my throat and gathered my best fake confidence. “I’m looking for Bet—”

“Hey! Fauna! Welcome to the River’s Edge. I’m so glad you came!”

A redheaded cyclone of energy enveloped me in two arms and full body contact. Every muscle in my body stiffened in shock as I inhaled a light floral perfume. My family didn’t hug. Ever.

Thankfully, Betsey didn’t notice my lack of return embrace. “Come over to the bar and I’ll get that beer for you. Or would you rather have a drink? We don’t have much in the way of fancy, but if you can stay awhile, Katrina is supposed to come out for a bit. She makes the most wonderful margaritas. You’ll love them!”

I was sure the smile on my face came out awkwardly, but with her grip on my elbow, I had little choice to move away. Betsey babbled away as she pulled me in her wake toward the polished wood.

“I told Psalm about your place, and she’s really excited. We got an idea for you if you want, ’bout stuff for your walls. She’s got lots of pictures from local people and will work a deal with you about commissioned sales. We can go by the store anytime and check them out. Win-win, right? There’s this one painting that shows the mountains coming through the morning mist. It’s just gorgeous.”

I wondered if Betsey had an extra lung for breath capacity. She never stopped talking.

A behemoth sat at one end of the bar, dark and brooding with wavy black hair and beard. He was handsome and built like a linebacker, but his presence held a note of menace that had me pulling back.

“Oh, don’t worry, Fauna. That’s just Mute. He’s one of my boys and is part owner and bouncer here. Katrina is his wife. Lord have mercy, there’s a story there!” Betsey grinned at me as she tugged me along. “They have the cutest little baby girl. Mute wanted another one as soon as possible, but Kat wanted to wait a bit longer. Guess who won that argument?”

We made it to the bar, and I planted myself on a chainsaw art stool that resembled a horse’s behind. The antsy feeling I got from meeting Mute lingered, and my back was tense. Something was buzzing in the back of my head, but I had too much on my mind to pay much attention to it. I had a goal I needed to focus on, and any distractions had to go away.

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