Starting Over (19 page)

Starting Over by Ryder Dane

Bam was summoned to the gate to vet a truck that’s driver said he needed to make

a delivery to Race and War. The burly driver looked tired, but he also was irritated.

“Look, I get paid by the mile, I don’t get paid by the time, so just open the fuckin’

gate so I can off load these beauties, I’l turn my rig around and get the fuck away from

this crazy damn part of the country. I never seen so many jackasses driving hell for

leather up and down the damn hills around here that you seem to have.”

Bam shook his head. The driver was obviously an asshole, but then so was he.

“Open the box so I can see what you got to deliver, then I’l decide.”

The driver got out and opened the locks on the trailer doors, opened one side and

gestured for Bam to enter the enclosed trailer. “You should’a seen the woman that

stood around making sure I secured them upright. Cute little thing, demanding, but she

paid cash.”

Bam wasn’t paying much attention to the man talking, he was running his fingertips

over the beautiful bikes then checked the cards, and saw both War’s and Race’s names

on the envelopes. “Did you say a mouthy blonde sent them?”

The grumbled “Yes, sir, told me she’d gut me if something happened along the way.

Truth to be told, I like the chopper, but I like the Indian too. It’s not often I get to

transport such beautiful machines.” Told Bam all he needed to know and he came from

the back of the box grinning.

He stepped aside and waved to the brother at the gate. “Go ahead, I’ll help you off

load them and you’ll stil have time to make it through the hills before dark.”

Two days later, Race and the brothers rolled through the gates, and everyone

seemed to be in a decent mood, so Bam waited until they dismounted their bikes and

shook their tired muscles out before he broached the subject.

“Hey, bro, nice to see everyone is back and in one piece. You need to come with

me for a minute if you can drag your tired asses over to the shed, there’s something you

need to see.”

War stomped past him and Race and Bam followed close behind.

War yanked the door open and stopped all movement. He could see them as plain

as dirt, but looked backwards to Bam. “What the fuck is this?” And, “If they’re hot I

don’t care. We can paint them.” He walked over to the chopper and admired the old-

fashioned flames running along the tank, and the apes with leather fronds hanging

down from the ends. The leather bags behind the seat and the drag bar, fuck, if the

bike had been a woman he’d be balls deep in her right now. “Race, check it out, damn

these are some beautiful pieces of art.”

Race was having a similar experience with the Indian. “That’s my baby, or you will

be soon.” He turned to ask Bam who the old scoot belonged to, but the man had left

him and War with the bikes. “I’l be a motherfucker, but I want this baby.” He noticed

the bow and card right off, but until he turned the envelope over, he didn’t comprehend

what Bam had been trying to tell them. He held the card in his hand and told War to

look at the one on the Chopper.

“It looks like they’re gifts, I wonder what the cost wil be and who gets paid.” The

title for the bike was the first thing he pulled from the envelope and he choked when he

read the name of the former owner of the bike. “I’l be a son of, War did you see?” War

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Starting Over by Ryder Dane

was waving the title to the chopper at him and sat on his ass on the floor close to where

Race stood.

The men were reading the note that was included with War’s card.

Hi guys,

I inherited the bikes from the man that kept me and my brother alive for

years. I’m gifting them to the two of you, every time I looked at them, I

thought of you. I know that you will take good care of them. I couldn’t bear

to sell them, they had to go to someone who would appreciate the scoots for

what they are, not just for the dollars they’d bring. I hope you learn to love

them as much as the former owner loved them. If I’m wrong, then sell them

and enjoy the cash. I won’t know, so it wil be your choice.

I hope all is well with you and the club, and please tell Maisey that I

haven’t figured it out yet, but I’m working on it.

Take care, River.

Race sat down beside his friend. “Now what do we do? Did you see who these

bikes belonged to? Fuckin’ Dal as McCormick. That man was a legend, I’ve only seen

one other bike with that metal tag on it, and that thing was fuckin’ cherry. I’l bet if you

look at the riser on that chopper, you’l see the same tag. He didn’t build the Indian, it’s

been customized, so it must be a personal transport, but that chopper has his hallmarks

in every line.”

War opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he got his scrambled

brain to think. “I noticed. I also noticed the name on the title, no wonder we’ve had shit

for luck finding her little ass. R.T. McCormick. We’ve been searching for River Tucker.

No one said a damn thing about that last name, the old man must’ve adopted her.”

He sat thinking and shook his head as he stared at the bike he planned to ride the

tires off of. “I thought Dallas McCormick died years ago, hell, I half thought the man

was just an overblown legend. Looking at the chopper, I can see that he earned the

rep. She must care, or she wouldn’t have just given us the scoots. Fuck, look at them

for Christ’s sake. Who gives away things like that?”

Race nodded in agreement. “Yeah, the only person that would give away

something like them is a person with money to burn, or someone who actually cares for

and respects the recipient. Fuck, just fuck. There’s gotta be some way for us to find

her. I haven’t wanted to fuck with any of the women. It’s almost embarrassing. Even

Goody couldn’t get me off, and you know she’s got a mouth that can suck a man dry

and leave him with a smile on his face.”

War took up the complaining. “Yeah, and waking up with your dick as hard as

possible because the little bitch won’t leave your brain. I wake up hard and,” he shook

his head, “I’ve taken more fucking showers in the past few months than I took in the last

six months before she came on the radar. This shit has to end. We need to find her

and bring her back. I’m for tying her to the fuckin’ bed until she’s too damned pregnant

to leave.”

Race laughed at War’s wishful thinking. “I’ve been thinking about that. The more I

think about it the more I think we need to lock her up with us, and make her fall in love

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Starting Over by Ryder Dane

with you and me. We can be lovable right? At least I hope so. She killed for revenge

for her brother’s murder, can you imagine how fierce she’d be if she loved us?”

They went to the clubhouse and continued to rack their brains for ways and means

to find River and bring her back.

Bam was grinning when they walked into the room, and War stomped toward the

kitchen to grab some eats, his damned stomach thought his throat had been slit and

was making grumbling noises for the past hour or so. When he walked back into the

bar, he saw Race tapping on a computer. He walked over and sat down across the

table from Yo Yo, who was looking all smug and shit.

“What’s up?” He took a big bite of the ham and swiss cheese sandwich while he

waited for an answer to his question.

Race answered while he was reading something on the screen, and Yo Yo pouted

for a second before she was back to smiling.

“It seems our Bam decided that he would get the license plate number and

company name from the delivery guy. Yo Yo has been busy with this new toy of hers

that she has been learning to play with. She suggested that I learn to surf the net. I

found the company, it is out of Kansas City. I typed R T McCormick, Kansas, and got

an address in a town called Betwixt. I looked up the address in the records of the town

and found out it is called Betwixt and Between. It’s a bar.” He looked up at War and

continued. “I had Yo Yo get the phone number for the place and it’s recently changed

hands. River left town right after the sales papers were finalized, and she moved her

stuff to Missouri. Now I’m trying to find her in Missouri.” He kept tapping away at the

keyboard of the little computer.

“Nothing comes up under River Tucker McCormick or River Tucker.” His fist hit the

table causing everyone but War to jump. “She’s in so much shit when I get my hands

on her.” He stood and walked out of the room.

Yo Yo shook her head at his back. “You two assholes have it bad. So I’l keep

digging until I find her. If I have to look in every damn state of the union, I’ll find her.”

She looked up from the keyboard. “When I find her, and you get her back, don’t fuck it

up. You men are such dumbasses that it’s a miracle you can remember to pull your

dicks out of your pants to take a damn piss.”

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Colorado had been interesting. She hated falling down time after time on her rented

skis. The instructor had been a handsome twenty–two year old with a toothpaste smile

and thick wavy blond hair. She had enjoyed most of the week that she’d been there,

and Jordan had been entertaining. His kiss had been nice, and he had a line of

compliments a mile long. He hadn’t been upset when she told him no.

“I’m sorry, Jordan, I came here to forget men and I like you, but, I guess I’m not

ready for another heartbreaker to come through my life right now.” He smiled when she

called him a heartbreaker. His ego showed plainly that he was used to women falling

over themselves to get his attention, but the compliment gave him a boost and he

wasn’t very upset, in fact within minutes of her rejection, she saw him chatting up a ski

bunny in a white jumpsuit and a nineteen sixty’s hairstyle. Looking closer at the

woman’s face, she could see that the lady had quite a few years over and above River’s

age, so his defection made sense. Mr. Handsome was a gigolo or had a serious

eyesight problem.

Now she was sitting in the airport waiting for her suitcase to show up on the

carousel so she could take a taxi to the storage unit. She figured she could drive the

Studebaker for a few days until she replaced the truck that she’d sold when she moved

everything to Missouri.

She knew where she wanted to be, but how to make it work was beyond her. She’d

given herself time to heal. The months had not been easy to be alone, but now she

could safely say that she had come to terms with her transgressions and made peace

with the demons inside of her that made her think negatively about herself. The

loneliness was crushing at times, but she gave herself permission to finally grieve.

She’d sat in the darkness on a pile of snow, and had a long talk with River Tucker

McCormick.

The tears had frozen on her cheeks, but once the heart to heart was finished, and

she’d gone to her room and gone to sleep, she knew the next morning that she’d done

what she needed to do. She’d made peace within herself. The heaviness weighing her

soul was gone. She couldn’t change the past, and helping Wolfman on his journey to

hell had been the right thing to do. The warmth she had felt at the time of her self

examination sealed that niggle of guilt for causing so many deaths. From what she

knew of the victims of the fire, the ones trapped in the basement that she didn’t even

know existed were close to death already. According to Maisey, they were in the

basement because they were hiding from the law for felonies or drugs had already

taken their lives leaving empty raving lunatics or drunken zombies with a thirst for their

drug of choice instead of brains.

It was too late for her to feel comfortable wandering around in a deserted storage

facility, so she opted to stay the night in the hotel across town near enough to the

storage units that she could walk over and get the truck.

The next morning, after a bagel and coffee in the small restaurant at the hotel, she

hiked across the road and punched the code to open the gate into the small silver box.

She walked through the gate and over to her unit. The key was in her hand and she

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