Page 37 of Fanatic

“Hey, I was thinking, my bike’s a piece of shit,” he opened with.

“Yeah?”

“Your woman has a bike nobody’s using. Could I put an offer in? It’s got some decent artwork on it and seemed like a nice ride. Plus, being your old lady, I’m sure she’ll give a discount or something,” Clark said.

I was speechless. On multiple accounts. I took a few moments to gather my thoughts.

“First, Willow isn’t mine,” I replied, and Clark looked surprised.

“She’s living with you.”

“Yeah. Willow’s my best friend, and I’m Danny’s Godfather. She needs help, and I’m here for her,” I added.

“Damn, so Willow’s single? Might try my luck at that,” Clark said, and my anger sparked.

Trying to keep calm, I shook my head. “She’s a biker’s widow. Willow’s off limits.”

“But her old man is dead. She must be searching for someone else to take care of her and the child.”

My temper grew hotter, but I maintained control. “Willow doesn’t need money. She has Grey’s life insurance, and that is beside the point. Willow’s a biker’s widow, which means no biker will approach her unless she encourages it. Secondly, that bike’s not for sale. That was Grey’s, and nobody will ride it until Danny decides what he wants to do with it.”

“You mean Willow’s gonna sit there and let it rust? Bullshit dude. I’ll pay a decent price for it as it’s second-hand,” Clark pushed.

“The bike is untouchable. We don’t chase dead brother’s bikes or belongings. They rightfully belong to his family. Forget about buying. It’s off limits, as is Willow,” I stated firmly.

“Fine.” Clark shut the door, but a hunch told me I’d not heard the end of it. Clark was another candidate I had my eye on.

Focussing, I returned to my design. There was something bothering me about what I’d drawn. A detail was wrong, but I couldn’t spot what. For several hours I messed about until I was happy the aesthetic was right. I was surprised when Chance opened the door and looked at me.

“Solved it?”

“Yes. The colouring might need adjusting, but the design’s good.”

Chance walked around the desk as I brought up the blueprint.

“Fuck!” he hissed. “That’s the auction piece?”

“Yeah. Start the bidding at two hundred k for this one. I’ve ordered some hand-crafted and specialised parts to put in.”

“What about Harper’s ride?” Chance asked.

I showed him the piece for the infamous street racer, Harper, and Chance nodded. “That’s fuckin’ nice. Has Harper signed off on it?”

“Harper’s coming in next week to approve the designs. He’s also bringing a couple of friends with him who might be interested in ordering from us. They know there’s a yearlong waiting list, but Harper said they’re happy to wait,” I replied.

“Great. You got serious talent, kid. Glad we nurtured it. We missed you when you were in Miami for those few years, but it honed your skills. You ever wanted to go back?” Chance inquired.

“No. This is home. Not even England appeals to me. Although I love Camden, Maine and would settle there, but with the Royal Bastards there, it ain’t a good idea.” I laughed.

“No, they’ve some freaky weird shit around them. Aurora Victoria took some believing, but we couldn’t help it when her predictions kept coming true. But those fuckers? They take the paranormal to the extreme. If Drake hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it. Goes to show there’s stuff in the world none of us understands,” Chance stated.

“Yeah. Dad was freaked out, but he’s fuckin’ glad that they’re miles away and also on good terms with us.”

“Not surprised. That woo-woo shit ain’t for normal men like us.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, Uncle Chance,” I agreed.

Willow

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