Highway Don't Care (Freebirds) (15 page)

  “Mother fucker.  You’re a crackshot!”  Gabe said
grinning.

  “I guess so.  Can we go now?”  I asked.

   I didn’t like how shooting made me feel
anymore.  I didn’t enjoy it like I used to, and ever since my dad died I
didn’t feel right shooting.  I made it through to my senior year before I
stopped competing.  It brought up too many memories.  They were
bittersweet, and reminded me of what I was missing.  Left a huge gaping
hole in my heart.

  Gabe must have made the connection, because the next thing
I knew I was wrapped in his arms, fighting back tears.

  “You’re not alone anymore Em.  I’ll always be
here.  I love you, sweetheart.  Cheyenne, the girls, Sam,
Blaine.  Everyone loves you.  You’re not alone.”  He said as he
kissed my forehead.

  We left shortly after.  Gabe was also the proud new
owner of a .40 caliber Ruger something something.  I’m sure there is a
name for it.  I’m also sure he told me, but like always, it went in one
ear and out the other.  You would think after six years of competition
shooting that I would know what kind of weapons I’d used.  I didn’t. 
That was my dad’s job, and I refused to take it over.

  “So, where exactly are we supposed to meet for this Biker’s
Rule for School?”  I yelled into Gabe’s ear. 

  We were driving down Highway 42, and it seemed to me we
were more riding than getting to a destination.  We passed over the Sabine
River, and I noticed that it was getting quite low.  We’d had one hell of
a summer, and we were lucky it was as high as it was.  Sometimes, during a
bad summer, the river slowed down to little more than a creek in some spots.

  “You’ll see.”  Gabe said cryptically.

  We rode for another ten minutes or so when I saw the first
bike.  Then it wasn’t just one, it was hundreds.  We waved, spoke,
joked around, and rode.  What the Bikers Rule for School was, was a bunch
of bikers (you didn’t even have to be a bad ass like Gabe and the rest of the
guys, you could be an old man going through his midlife crisis) entering their
bikes in the rally.  Then the money that you paid to enter your bike then
went to buying the local kids school supplies.  This was my first year
riding in it, but it sure wouldn’t be the last.

  We rode for six hours straight.  By the end of the
day, I was ready to drop.  We’ve ridden on long rides before, but never
one where I spent the entire six hours riding straight.  By the time we
pulled up in front of Shogun’s, I was ready to burst; no potty break would do
that to a girl.  Gabe managed a front row parking spot, and I thanked God
for answering my prayers before I pissed my pants.

  Running into the bathroom, I barely slammed and locked the
door before I dropped my pants.  Sighing in intense relief, my eyes rolled
back in my head, and I listened to the door slam and two cackling women enter
the bathroom.  They sounded snobby, and I was glad I was in the stall and
didn’t have to see their faces.  I might have to bitch slap them.

  Finishing up, I was buttoning my jeans when what they were
saying penetrated my brain.  Then I started fuming.

  “Did you see that trash that came with that hot hunk of
man?” snotty bitch one said (SB for short).

  “Yes.  He could do much better.  Did you see what
she was wearing?  You don’t wear that type of outfit out to a nice
restaurant.  You wear a dress.”  SB number two countered.

  “Oh, my God.  For real!  She must have a golden
vagina to keep him.  She didn’t even have boobs.  Do you think he
would call me if I slipped him my number?”  SB number one quipped.

Motherfucking Son of a Bitch.

  The lock made a sharp clicking sound as I slid it out of
the locked position and slammed the door open.  Both girls turned at the
sharp sound of the stall door slamming against the wall.  Then both of
their eyes widened as they saw me walk out. 

Busted.

  “For your information, I give really good head.  He
keeps me around for when he wants me to give him the business.”  I said
sweetly.

  I washed my hands while glaring daggers at them.

  Both girls were frozen, unsure of what to do or say. 
They came unstuck when I walked out of the bathroom, swinging the door open so
hard that it slammed against the wall also.  I stomped my way back into
the main part of the restaurant.  Gabe saw me coming, and instantly took
in my expression.  Alarm came over his face, but then settled when he saw
the women exiting behind me.  Shaking his head, he looked down to his feet
and contemplated his boots.

  I walked up to stand beside him and watched the two women
walk to their prospective dates, and immediately commenced talking shit about
me.  I could see the faces of the dates, and each ones showed clear
disgust.  Their faces became more and more animated before the beefier of
the two broke off from the group.  He marched over and tried to stick his
finger in my face.

  Except that, he got nowhere close.

  One second he was marching towards me, and the next he
found himself face down on the floor.

  “I don’t really care what those ladies told you.  You
do not come up to my woman threateningly.  If you have a problem, you come
to me.  I had better not ever find out you did this to some other
woman.  Have some respect man.”  Gabe said as he pushed off him.

 He did make sure he kneed him in the kidney first though.

  Right as he stood up, our buzzer started going off, so I
grabbed Gabe’s hand and pulled him towards the hostess station.  The
hostess gave us a wide berth as he seated us in their most secluded section of
the entire place.  Apparently, he felt a little uncomfortable having us in
general population.

  Dinner was a success though.  Our first date went off
without too many hitches.

  “I really enjoyed our cook.  He was pretty awesome
with his spatula.”  I said to Gabe as we made our way outside.

  “Yea, that’s cause he thought you were hot, so he gave you
more attention than he did anyone else.”

  Shogun’s was your typical Japanese restaurant.  They
seat you around a large flat grilling surface where the cook takes the orders
for everyone that surrounds his cooking station.  He would cook everything
to your specifications, and entertained us in the process.  My favorite
was the onion volcano.

  “Yea, I’m pretty sure this scoop neck t-shirt and jeans
really did it for him.”

  He stopped abruptly and turned to look into my eyes.

  “You are a very beautiful woman.  Those women were
just jealous of you.  You don’t have to dress up to be the classiest person
in a room.  You can pull that off with some yoga pants and a
t-shirt.  They’re just jealous bitches who have no place in our
thoughts.”  He said before giving me a quick kiss and resuming our trek
across the parking lot. 

  As usual, Gabe moved the bike even though he had a front
row parking spot.  He did this for two reasons.

  One being he doesn’t like to be too close to other cars in
case he needs to get out of the area fast.  The other being that he
doesn’t want anyone touching his bike.  There was one rule among bikers,
and that was that the bike was sacred.  You don’t mess with other bikes,
and bikers knew that.  Regular people do not.

  I’d enjoyed the heck out of our date, snotty bitches or
not.  I just wish I’d had someone take a picture of us.  I’d yet to
get a picture of the both of us together, mostly because Gabe wasn’t the
picture type of person.  Apparently, bad asses were allergic to
pictures.  The only ones I ever got were the shots where he wasn’t paying
attention.  Also, the ones that he accidentally was flipping off the
camera.  It was amazing how often that happened.

  I was pulled from my thoughts with a jolt as Gabe sent me
careening to the ground.  Gravel dug into the palms of my hands, and I
looked up just in time to see Gabe plant his booted foot in a man’s face. 
Gabe’s foot landed on his jaw with a sickening thud, and the person was down
for the count.  That wasn’t the case with the other person.  He’d
jumped on Gabe’s back and tried to subdue him with his arm around his neck.

  Adrenaline was coursing through my veins as I watched Gabe
drop his right shoulder and use the attacker’s momentum against him.  Over
Gabe’s shoulder he went, and slammed him into the ground.  Gabe went Stone
Cold Steve Austin on his ass and power slammed him into the gravel, making his
head bounce off the gravel.  One punch to the jaw and the other attacker
was down for the count as well.

  It took all of fifteen seconds from start to finish. 
Which was pretty fucking scary if you asked me.  The amount of strength he
had in one hand probably could kill me with one blow like the one he’d just
given to the man lying on the ground.  Not that he would ever use that
kind of force with me.  Anything he ever did would be a total accident;
never would he intentionally hurt me.

  Gabe scanned his surroundings once more before coming to
me.

  “You okay?”  He asked.

  He wasn’t even winded in the slightest.  His hair was
a little out of place, but other than that you would never be able to tell that
he just kicked two guy’s asses.

  I nodded my head, and regarded him.

 “That.  Was.  Awesome.”  I said to him
enthusiastically.  “Will you teach me how to do all of
that?”                                                            

  “I’ll teach you whatever you want, honey.  Let me see
your hands.  Fuck, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean for you to hurt your
hands but it was just the fastest way I could get you down.  The little
fucker had a fucking tire iron.”  He said while inspecting my bloody
palms.

  A groan sounded from one of the morons on the ground, and
Gabe went to them while I called the cops.

  Gabe was persuasive with his fists, and the man let us in
on why he thought it’d be a good idea to hurt us.  Turns out the women
from the restaurant told their men that I threatened to “hurt them in the worst
way” while I was in the bathroom with them.  Therefore, the dates decided
to take it upon themselves before getting all of the facts.  Now they
would be going on a trip to the local slammer all because they’d trusted their
dates over just collecting some more information.  Pretty sure that was
worth it.  Not.

  Flashing lights poured over the shadowed parking lot and my
favorite cop was there to check on us.

  “Everything alright?”  Luke asked as he walked up.

 “Yea.  These morons here thought they could sneak up on
Terminator here.  Little did they know Gabe was going to pull out his bad
ass and show it to them.  Gabe did a couple of fancy moves, and all of a
sudden, they were just lying there, out cold.  I think I should have
videoed it.  This could’ve been one of those YouTube videos that went
viral.  Maybe if we could-” I answered but laughing interrupted me.

  Both men were looking at me as if I was crazy.

  Shaking his head Gabe asked, “What are you doing here,
anyway?  Aren’t you a detective or something?”

  “Something like that.  They let me do what I
want.  I heard on the scanner that it was Ember so I came.  Wasn’t
too far away.  Got someone watching my girl, and figured I could stop by
real quick to check on you both before heading home.”

  “Luke, if you ever need anyone to watch her, I’m more than
happy to do it.”  I threw out there.

  He smiled in appreciation, and then turned back to
Gabe.  They spoke for a few more minutes.  Statements were made, and
then we headed home.

Ω

  Studying what I had to wear I settled for some of my old
comfy volleyball shorts that were so tight you couldn’t wear anything but a
thong with them, and a camisole.  I didn’t like wearing bras, and this was
one of my ways around wearing one.  I grabbed one of Gabe’s flannel shirts
out of the closet and shrugged it on too.  Gabe kept it like a meat locker
in here.  Not one time was the AC set on anything above sixty-eight. 
I also wasn’t one to complain, so I made sure I always have a blanket or shirt
nearby.

 I walked out of the room and towards the kitchen.  It
was time for something to eat.  Grabbing a bag of Chex Mix Muddy Buddies
and a coke, I left the room, but instantly turned around when I heard Gabe yell
for a beer.  I found myself doing this a lot. 

  Walking in to the living room, I was immediately assaulted
by the sound of gunfire.  Rolling my eyes, I set everything down and sat
at the edge of the couch with my ads and my coupon binder. 

  “What the fuck is that?”  Gabe asked.

  Looking up I met Gabe’s eyes.

  “What’s what?”

  “That.”  He said gesturing to my binder.

  “This little gem is my coupon binder.”

  “Why would you need a coupon binder?  Don’t you have a
good job?”

  “Well yea, now I do, but I didn’t used to.  I had to
save any way I could.  I don’t like to touch my inheritance, makes me feel
like I was exchanged money for their lives.  Anyway, I became engrossed in
saving money where I could.  Which then turned into an obsession.  I
don’t by anything that’s not on sale.  I price match, and I never pay full
price for anything.  Nobody will go to the store with me anymore. 
They get embarrassed when I pull out my coupons and ads.”