Page 59 of Mex

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Seemingly having acceptedthe information I provided, the meeting comes to a close and I’m shown a room right at the back of the house that I can stay in. I’m also told that if I so much as dare try and double cross them, I’ll end up with a bullet in my skull. Western’s exact words. It doesn’t bring me any kind of comfort, but this is the only option I have, so I guess I’ll just have to take the risk.

I take my things and settle myself into the small, but comfortable room. The window overlooks a shed that I’m certain Western currently resides and a heap of woodland at the back. Shoving open the window, a fresh breeze trickles in. I close my eyes, taking it in for a moment. Stomach grumbling, I turn and glance around the room. I need to eat soon, but that means going into town and right now, I’m too tired.

The bed pressed up against the wall looks incredibly inviting. It’s only a double, maybe, and the sheets don’t look all that clean, which means I am going to have to change them before I can get some rest. Frustrated, I go over to the bed and pull them off, taking note of the white stains. “Fucking dirty bikers,” I grumble, tossing them onto the floor along with the comforter and pillowcase.

Fuck washing them, I’m going to buy some.

I guess a trip into town is on the cards.

Exhaling, I get changed and then walk out of the room and back into the garage where everyone is back to sitting around, smoking drugs and drinking.

“Any one of you feel like giving me a ride?” I ask.

Fury looks up from his current inhale of a bong. Slowly, he pushes the smoke out of his mouth and grins. “I’ll take you.”

Mex gives him a look that is less than impressive. “No, you fuckin’ won’t. I’ll take you in.”

Fury grins. “Anyone would think you’re invested.”

Mex steps up to him, wildly angry. “Fuck off.”

“Wow,” I mutter. “Good to know the thought is so repulsive. Can we go?”

Mex steps away from Fury and turns, walking past me. “Let’s go.”

Exhaling, I follow him.

We go out to his truck, walking past the bikes. I wouldn’t mind going for a ride on one of those. I haven’t been on a bike before, and it’s safe to say I’m more than a little curious. “Can we take a bike?”

Mex pauses mid stride, turning to face me. “You want to ride?”

I nod.

“Wait.”

He walks back into the house and comes back a minute later with a helmet and a key. He moves toward a large black bike with two big things hanging off the side. The passenger seat looks comfy and soft with a big back rest.

“This is yours?” I ask, approaching it.

“No,” Mex mutters, “but it’s good for storin’ shit. You said you want to go to the store, how else you goin’ to carry things?”

Right.

Of course.

Those big things are storage compartments.

I’m not complaining, though. It looks comfortable ... and fun. Lord knows with the way my body feels right now, I need something comfortable. Every inch of my flesh is tender.

Mex tosses me the helmet, and I pull it on my head. He climbs onto the bike, starting it up. The loud rumble fills the quiet air around us and excitement bubbles in my chest. I climb onto the back, nestling into the large seat, then, without question, Mex takes off. My squeals fill the air as I hang onto the sides of the seat. We move quickly, speeding out onto the road, and my squeals quickly turn to sounds of utter delight.

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