Page 11 of The Night Ride
I staunchly ignored the thrill that shot through at the prospect of being near her again.
Instead, I focused on the road ahead and how much I fucking enjoyed driving my Harley.Not that it worked much, but I gave it every effort.
The three of us spent the day on the bikes, trying to cover as many miles as possible with the dwindling time we had to complete our mission.When the sun began to set, we pulled off and stopped for the night at a roadside motel near the Pennsylvania and Ohio borders.The hotel wasn’t fancy.But it did have a continental breakfast and worked for us.
In the same parking lot was Lou’s Diner.It was a hole in the wall joint that hadn’t been remodeled since the seventies, but the burgers were decent, and the beer was cold.It was the perfect meal after the long day on the road.We turned in early after our meal, agreeing to meet down at the bikes before dawn.
The bed was comfortable, but I spent a fitful night, unsure of my reception when we reached our destination tomorrow.Not that it would stop me from going with Lucas and Wyatt.But it did keep me up, because Beth and I had history.One I had never forgotten.One I didn’t know how to handle because I’d never gotten over the way she made me feel, and how quickly those feelings had soured.
I rose at zero-three-hundred and met the guys at our arranged time at the bikes.Our small group headed out shortly after zero-four-hundred.We figured since we had another ten-hour day on the road, we would rise early and arrive in Saint Louis before the evening rush hour.
As the miles slipped away, I couldn’t help but remember the night five years ago when I first saw Beth.
***
5 Years Ago
I parked my bike in the crowded parking lot and killed the engine.My phone buzzed inside my interior jacket pocket.Unzipping the leather motorcycle jacket, I yanked my phone out and checked the screen.
It was a text from Evan who was supposed to already be here.
Running late.Be there as soon as I can.
Which meant the fucker was scoring on his date.It could be an hour or more before he appeared.Jesus, Evan got a lot of pussy.I did too, but not nearly as much as him.It was like he was out to achieve the world record for most hookups in a lifetime.
I thumbed out a quick text.
Hurry the fuck up with whatever her name is and get here.
Frustrated, I shoved the phone back in my pocket.I stopped working on my 1968 Shelby to meet Evan tonight.But he was thinking with his dick, as usual.Completely disgusted with my buddy, I climbed off my Harley and stored my helmet in the trunk, double checking that it was locked before pocketing the keys.No one would fuck with my bike.This bar was right off base and frequented by Navy personnel with hardly any civies.It’s why the parking lot of Gundry’s Tavern was full of hot rod vehicles and motorcycles, because when a person served, one didn’t know what day could be your last and we tended to buy the vehicle we really wanted.Not giving two fucks if it was practical or not.Screw practical.The only thing that mattered was today.Tomorrow we could be worm food.And I would rather not regret my life but live it full out before my number was up.
Gundry’s Tavern was the divest of dive bars, but the liquor was cheap and sometimes they had live entertainment.Given its proximity to the Naval Station Base in Norfolk, there were plenty of service members who didn’t mind getting shitfaced and driving back to base.Not something I would recommend.Some even walked the short mile and a half distance.
At one time the colonial era brick building had been a carriage house.It was converted into a tavern back in the fifties.While they updated things like adding big flatscreen televisions, there was a timelessness to the watering hole that I enjoyed.
Maybe I was being fanciful, but I liked to think that the ghosts of all the seamen and women who frequented the tavern, were remembered by the place as if the memory of them had been embedded within the walls and made-up part of its essence.Far-fetched to be sure.But when one dealt in covert missions and spine-tingling danger for breakfast, and was more transient than a homebody, it would be nice to have a place that had withstood the test of time carry a memory of me within it.
I wiped my hand over my face.Man, my thoughts were maudlin this evening.
Which meant it was time for a damn drink.My boots crunched over the gravel parking lot as I headed inside.The neon blue sign proclaiming its name the only illumination in the dark parking lot.The moment I entered my nose was assailed by perfumes, colognes, and cheap alcohol.It was my kind of place.Country music blared from the jukebox competing with the din of raised voices all trying to talk over one another.
Did they have a band playing later?There were a couple local bands that were damn good.I wouldn’t mind some live music.It would get me out of my head.
I scanned the bar.A situational awareness habit that was instinctual.It didn’t matter if it was the grocery store, the local watering hole, or a park, the moment I entered the premises, I checked for any potential threats, located the exits, and determined the right place to sit, usually with my back near a wall, so I could observe all the comings and goings enough to drop my guard down with some libations.
I spotted an empty seat at the bar in the corner.There was a woman sitting with her back to me.She had a long tumble of inky hair that fell in loose waves to her mid-back.
From the back she was a looker, even with part of the stool’s backrest hiding parts of her body.Her inky hair was offset by the red blouse hugging her slender torso.My gaze dipped to her heart-shaped ass clad in dark blue jeans, and then further down to her heeled knee-high black boots.A twitch of desire shot through me.
If her front was as stunning at the back-end view, the night might not be a total loss after all.Might be more interesting than initially thought with Evan standing me up.
I threaded my way through the crowd.The place was packed.But it made sense.Today was payday.I nodded at seamen and women I recognized on my trek to the dark oak bar stained a glossy walnut.Beyond the bar, in the back room, all the pool tables were occupied with half empty pitchers of beer on the bar height round tables.
It was Friday night.While it was early yet, this place would only get busier as the evening progressed.On what served as a small stage, a band was setting up.Gundry’s hosted local bands, opting for a mix of country and rock because that’s what drew crowds.
When I reached the empty bar stool, I got a glimpse of slender arms and dainty fingers, the nails slicked with red polish, loosely gripping a bar glass with pale pink liquid.It killed me that she was in a dive bar, surrounded by people with sizable egos, with such a girly drink.
“Is this seat taken?”I spoke loud enough to reach her ears over the raucous din.
