Page 25 of S is for SEX

Brad nodded.

The man turned around. The back of his jacket had a banner across the top that I’d seen earlier.

Hells Angels.

“Bamma,” Crip said.

The man glanced over his shoulder.

“Appreciate ya,” Crip said.

“Anything for the Fuckers.” Bamma nodded once and turned away. “Angels!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Saddle up!”

We ran to the motorcycle, got on, and rode to the entrance of the park. My mind was in a fog, and Brad and I didn’t speak the entire time. When we pulled toward the entrance, my jaw dropped completely.

A line of motorcycles two wide and longer than I could count was waiting for us. One motorcycle was out in the street, stopping traffic.

Bamma was parked sideways in the road leading into the park. We pulled up to his side.

We’ll lead the way,” Bamma said over his shoulder. “I’ll get two out ahead running rabbit. How fast you wanna go?”

“As fast as we can,” Brad said.

Bamma looked at me, nodded once, and turned around. He cupped his hands around his mouth and tilted his head back. “Balls out, Angels!”

The men all shouted in response. “Hooaah!”

A warm tear ran down my cheek.

And we hit the road.

Balls out.

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