Page 21 of The Fates We Tame
“Hey.” Sophia’s voice comes through the speakers. “I just looked up shocking facts about motorcycles, and it said the first Harley only went forty miles an hour. Is that true?”
I huff. “How am I supposed to know?”
“You’re the biker, right?”
With my eyes closed, the blurriness goes away. “Just because I’m a biker doesn’t mean…fuck…not everything bikes.”
“Do you think you’ll still ride after this?” she asks.
I think about the rides I can remember. “First thing I’ll do when I get out of here.”
“Why is it so important to you?”
I imagine I’m on my bike. “Sunshine. Wind in your…face. It’s the…last…true freedom.”
I hear Sophia sigh. “Sounds amazing.”
“Clubhouse. Asbury Park. Find me. I’ll…take you.”
Bet she’d look fucking cute in leather.
She talks to me all the way through the scan until the radiographer takes over. And even then, it’s not for long.
I let the sound of Sophia’s voice override the fear I’m feeling.
That I’m never getting on my bike again.
6
SOPHIA
Stairs continue to be my nemesis. But I take them every opportunity I get, per my physical therapist’s instructions. She has some motivational quote from Aristotle about how we are what we repeatedly do or something.
I get the general idea.
Voices get louder and louder as I reach the bottom of the stairs, and I glance through the glass sliding doors into the reception area. Beyond it, I see bikes. Lots and lots of bikes.
Dawn, the manager of the facility, is in a heated discussion with Irv. “There are at least thirty people in there. It’s only four guests per person, max.” Her words are aggressively whispered.
Irv puts his hands up. “Better to let them in and do what they do on good terms than try to keep them all out,” I overhear him say.
“I would never have accepted him as a patient if I’d known he was a—Sophia,” she says, her face changing as if she hadn’t been about to bad-mouth Theo.
Irv glances up at me. “Probably best to avoid the visitors’ room right now,” he says. “It’s Theo’s birthday and he’s got company.”
I wish he’d mentioned it when our paths crossed in physio yesterday. Not that I could do much, but I could have perhaps ordered him a cake or gotten someone to bring a card.
“I’m on my way to the pool,” I say.
“Let me walk you there,” Irv says.
“It’s okay, I’m good.” And curious.
The door is open, the volume getting louder. And holy sex on legs. There are lots of men in leather. And girls. Well, women. And some have cuts that say things likeProperty of Saint.
If I didn’t know Theo was in that room, I think I’d be scared of them all.
Two men stand just by the door but are facing into the room, so they don’t see me. One has wide shoulders and hair that is part braid, part undercut. The other has shorter hair. Both wear leather vests that sayIron Outlawson them.
