Page 18 of Outlaws' Dirty Secret

I start to ask which bike is which but stop.

The first is dark red with black trim. There's a serpentine dragon detailed with amazing detail onto the tank in gorgeous gold paint, and the front wheel cover looks like pure, airbrushed flames. It's a sleek bike, but the engine looks huge, which suits Dragon perfectly. Dark, sexy and powerful.

The next one is totally different. All shining silver chrome, with a paint job that mimics ripples on the surface of pure blue water. It looks built for speed. Nimble. Definitely not small or dainty, but like an ocean blue lightning strike.

The last bike is all black. Even the engine and chrome are black, like it's just the shadow of a motorcycle. In the dark of night, if it wasn't for the streetlight over it, it'd be basically invisible. I walk straight for it, and Blackout chuckles. “Is it that obvious?”

“Were you guys trying to be subtle?”

Skyhigh laughs. “Where’s the fun in subtle?”

Blackout pats the saddle. “I'll get on first to keep it steady, and then you climb on behind me. Keep your feet on the pegs and lean when I do. And hold as tight as you want. Won’t get any complaints from me.”

When I was growing up, my parents dragged me all over the world, and because they only really worked for whatever retreat or collective we were staying at, it wasn’t exactly a luxury experience. I’ve clung to the back of more than one little moped and motorbike, but as I actually try to swing my leg over Blackjack’s motorcycle, I realize how much bigger it really is. To get into position, I have to really press myself right up against his broad back and straddle his narrow hips. When I wrap my arms around his torso, I can barely reach.

“Ready?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Yes?”

He starts the bike, and it turns out I wasn't ready at all. Size isn’t the only difference. It comes to life with a roar, like a lion that was rudely awakened, then settles into the kind of big cat purr that rumbles through my whole body, starting right between my legs. I had no idea the size of the engine would make this much difference.

Dragon and Skyhigh fire up their bikes, and the guys fall into position. Skyhigh leads, with me and Blackout in the middle and off a bit to the right, and then Dragon slides into place at the back, in line with Skyhigh.

My heart leaps into my throat as Blackout opens the throttle, sending us flying down the empty street. The echoes of the growling engines off the houses makes it sound like a whole army of motorcycles instead of just the three of us. When we round the corner in the direction of the club, I try to lean like Blackout does, and make the mistake of looking down at the road that’s flying by only inches from my feet.

I whimper into the wind, and my hands scramble to grab onto his shirt under the leather vest. I can’t hear his laugh, but I can feel his chest vibrate, and a big, warm hand covers my fingers, squeezing gently before going back to the handlebars.

Instead of making a left at the end of the block and going straight to the club, we turn right, heading down the street towards the water and merging onto the local parkway that follows the coast. I'd ask where we're going, but there's no talking over the howl of the wind and I trust that the guys know what they're doing. At this hour, traffic is light, but there's enough that we weave a little in and out of traffic, overtaking it with ease. Over time, I relax into the feeling of the bike growling between my legs, and lean my head against Blackout’s back to watch the moonlight glistening on the water.

No wonder people love motorcycles. There's a feeling of meditation and total freedom, like we own the road. The rushing wind makes me feel like I'm soaring in a way that sitting in a car never could. An excited laugh bubbles out of me and I sit up straighter, closing my eyes and letting the wind beat at my face. Ifeelalive. Like I've been underwater and just surfaced to fill my lungs full of clean, fresh air.

We’re only out for maybe fifteen minutes before the guys pull off the parkway, run a red light, then circle back towards the club. The front gates are open when we get there, and the guards wave us through. They drive past the church and into the courtyard between the buildings. When we come to a stop, Skyhigh lifts me off before I can figure out how to maneuver my stiff legs out from behind Blackout.

He looks down at me with a mischievous look in his eyes. “Welcome to the jungle, baby.”

10

WILLOW

Last time I was here,I went straight into the church, so I didn’t get to see anything else. This time though, I look around. In addition to the church is the old elementary school, the priest’s house, the nuns’ house, and a big warehouse style building that must be new. It has sliding doors on the front that are wide open, and inside I see bikers hanging out and working on their motorcycles in a massive garage space.

“I remember this place before you moved in.” I point over to the field past the church. “They used to do barbecues after mass on the first Sunday of the month. My grandparents would bring me up here for the chicken and salt potatoes. I guess those days are long gone.”

Skyhigh shakes his head. “Might not be as family friendly as you remember, but we set up a tent over there during the summer and grill most nights.”

“And the school?” Lights are on in a lot of the windows, so they are clearly using it for something.

“Barracks, storage, meeting rooms. Whatever we need. Most of the brothers live here inside the walls.”

“Hey, boys.” A husky female voice comes from behind me.

I spin to find the redhead who I saw having sex at the party. Up close, she’s younger than I thought. Prettier, too. Probably about my age. I hate that I feel a little jealous.

Dragon nods at her. “Blaze, this is Willow.”

“Hi,” I say softly, with a tiny wave.

“Nice to meet’ya.” She looks me up and down, assessing. “You guys joining us tonight? Sinner and Jackal are waiting for me inside.”

---