Page 75 of Apex of the Curve

We took our time overlooking the menus, ordered our drinks and perused them some more, each of us folding them closed and setting them aside as we made our decisions.

Aspen was the first to break the silence asking, “So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day?”

“Gotta get you geared up, little lady,” Dump Truck declared, stretching out his bad leg. “Don’t ever want you to earn your broken wings, but if it should go down that you do? You need to be in all the gear all the time to give you the best chance of getting ‘em and not just getting dead in the process.”

“I’m sorry? Broken wings?” she asked, brow wrinkling in confusion.

He pulled up his cut and pointed at the patch on it with a pair of wings, feathers coming off ‘em, wrapped around a black and orange sign that read broken wings.

“Oh! So, the little patches all mean different things?” she asked, as if it had just occurred to her.

Little Bird laughed lightly and said, “I thought the same thing. It’s like a whole other language like the Egyptians and their cartouches.”

“Fascinating,” Aspen said, staring at our cuts with new eyes.

“So, what do the broken wings mean? That you’ve been in an accident?”

“Yup, and survived,” I answered.

“How I got my road name, too. I got hit by a fucking dump truck.”

“Holy shit, and you survived that?” Aspen’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“Barely,” DT answered, shifting in his seat. “Fucked my ass up but good. Permanent damage to my leg, some permanent hardware in a few places,” he sniffed and cleared his throat, “but I’m here.”

Little Bird reached for his hand that rested on the table and clutched it. He looked over at her like she was his world, and she was. He smiled at her.

“Good thing, too. Could have missed out on the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“Aww.” Aspen smiled. “You two are seriously like relationship goals,” she said.

I reached over beneath the table and massaged the top of her thigh through her jeans, intending, if she gave me the chance, to prove that we could meet and smash every goal she ever held in her heart for being one half of a mated pair.

“So, what do the other patches mean?” she asked.

“That’s a question for later, baby. We can’t be giving away all our secrets now,” I said, and she smiled at me and nodded.

“You know, Mace gets out next week?” Dump Truck said, steering the conversation to safety.

“Yes, he does. We riding out to pick his ass up?” I asked.

“We certainly are,” he said.

“Are the girls invited on this trip?” Little Bird asked.

“You know it. It’s gonna be one hell of a party that night.”

“What day is it?” Aspen asked.

“Gets out on Tuesday,” I answered. “You’ll be working, but I’d love to have you come up to the club for the party once we get in.”

“You’re sure?” she asked smiling.

“More than,” I said.

“Gets pretty wild, fair warning,” Dump Truck said.

“Yeah?” Aspen asked, the misgivings flitting across her fair face.

---