Page 24 of Biker's Tribute: Property of Bear

“Mr. Shaw!”

He freezes with visible fright when I meet his eye. Having that effect on other dudes never gets old.

“Yes?”

“Someone came this morning and left you a gift.”

“They did?”

Amanda gives me a nervous look and after the bullshit yesterday, I share her sentiment. While she slept like a baby, I was ready to get up and start shooting at any point during the night.

“It’s parked outside.”

Now we’re all confused. Front desk guy – Miguel Martinez according to the name tag – reaches into the front desk drawer and pulls out a very familiar set of keys. Harleys all have distinct key fobs, and this one looks like the one my brother has.

“There’s a note too.”

He pulls out a crisp white envelope. I take the key and envelope, dragging Amanda to the side.

“Someone’s well connected,” she mutters to herself. I read the note at a pace which apparently frustrates Amanda as she tries to look over my forearm to read it herself. I’m much too tall for any of her ploys to work and the note isn’t any of her business.

Sorry for the trouble. All yours.

– Darragh Murray

I slip the envelope into my breast pocket and take Amanda’s hand as we walk outside together. She keeps trying to yank her hand away, but I keep a firm grasp of her. The cleanest and newest addition to the parking lot is obviously the gift Darragh sent. A brand new red chrome Harley. Fuck. She looks like a dream. Amanda squeezes my hand.

Naturally, it’s not due to excitement.

“You cannot expect me to ride into New York City on that thing.”

"You either get on or I drag you."

"Do you know how many people die in motorcycle crashes annually?"

"Nope."

Amanda folds her arms and I wonder if she's pondering the point I made about black women and the trouble they cause. I'll get her on the bike before I point out how right I am...

"It's safe. I've never crashed."

Technically, it's not the truth. But I survived both times with barely any scrapes and it wasn't my fault Magnum Sinclair introduced the club to his new absinthe based cocktail at that meeting...

"You don't have to crash more than once to die."

"Those men at your office would have killed you a lot faster than this bike and there might be more of them. They know your first and last name, they might even have back up. And don't tell me you trust the police."

"You think I don't trust the police just because I'm black?"

"So you trust them?"

Amanda's brows furrow together, but she has the humility to look a little sheepish. "No. But I don't trust you either."

"That's the thanks I get for keeping my hands off you all night."

"You didn't keep your hands off me," Amanda replies. "You cuddled me all night."

My cheeks redden immediately. She was the one shoving her ass against my crotch and getting cozy. I held her because it was the right thing to do to a terrified woman.

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