Highway Song: A Smokey's Roadhouse Novel (21 page)

I shot Mark a look, and he went outside to check on the ETA of the bus. We might be able to take shelter in the disabled bus, or the roadhouse, but our shit was vulnerable as hell. Five crazy bikers riding through it on Harleys would be the final blow in our run of bad luck.

But it seemed our luck had turned. Mark ran in just then and said,
“
It
’
s here.
”

Amy

A
s we headed west, leaving Smokey
’
s Roadhouse behind, I wondered if I
’
d made a terrible mistake. I
’
d survived four years by keeping a low profile. I had plenty of reason to believe I was still being sought by the powerful cartel with whom the man I
’
d helped put behind bars was associated. Over those four years, I
’
d twice narrowly escaped by going out the back window of a motel room while men kicked in the front door. Working in the types of job I did didn
’
t help, but it was all I knew. I had no choice.

One thing had emerged as a pattern. I couldn
’
t stay hidden as long in a large city as I could in an out-of-the-way place like Smokey
’
s. There was no question I had to leave there. As soon as Jake established his own club and started trying to get into the drug trade, one of the cartels would pick them up, if they hadn
’
t already. It wasn
’
t as easy as it looked. You didn
’
t just find a source and start selling. That was a good way to get dead. The alliances and wars between the cartels constantly shifted, but if you got on the hit list of one, you were on the hit list of all of them. In this, there was solidarity.

Because of my testimony about one of their lieutenants and an allied cartel, the Mexican Mafia had me on their hit list, which meant I was also in trouble with the powerful and widespread Sinaloa. About the only places I could go in the US without finding them on every street corner were Minnesota, Idaho, and Alaska, and I wasn
’
t too sure about Alaska. After evading them in Dallas, I
’
d made my way north on the backroads of Oklahoma, Kansas, and Nebraska, had a close call in Omaha, and eventually landed at Smokey
’
s. Now, with the Jake
’
s defection from the club, my position was too exposed. In addition to the personal animosity Jake held for me, he was likely to learn my secret before long.

It was especially dangerous because he knew the name of the band and where they were heading. If I was smart, I
’
d get off the bus in Salt Lake City and head for northeastern Nevada, where the population was as sparse as it was in Wyoming. Two things kept me from seriously considering it.

The first was I
’
d begun to believe it was time to stand and fight, even if it got me killed. This was no way to live. I was exhausted, and there was no future in my aimless running from here to there. There were too many of them, and too few people I could trust, even if I didn
’
t hate putting them in harm
’
s way. After Frank, I didn
’
t want anyone to die for me.

The second was I
’
d let myself get too involved with Rex. It wasn
’
t only the mind-blowing sex, or even the faded sense of family from our two-year stint as stepbrother and stepsister. I cared about what happened to him because he was a decent human being under that swagger. I sensed he cared about me as a person, too. Not just a fuck buddy. He knew my dirtiest secret, and he still wanted to be with me. With him, I felt a little more like a normal human being and less like a human trampoline.

Could I really help them? I didn
’
t know, but I thought it was worth a try. With the band breaking up, they had no shot unless something made them stand out. While I genuinely hoped I could help, I didn
’
t know what to do after the competition. If they got a media boost out of it, I
’
d have put myself right where I didn
’
t want to be
—
under a spotlight. If not, well, maybe I could stick with them, at least until something forced me to tell Rex the truth about our past. Then he
’
d probably hate me. Especially if his band was riding high on media attention. That kind of scandal could destroy his career.

So, I was damned if I did and damned if I didn
’
t. I opted for what my heart told me to do. Follow Rex. We made quick work of loading our stuff on the bus, nodded at the new bus driver, and found seats as the bus pulled out.

After our heavy lunch had settled a bit, Rex and I put our heads together to see what songs the band and I both knew. We came up with
“
Midnight Rider
”
right away. I
’
d heard a Little Georgia cover of the Allman Brothers hit somewhere, and the instrument mix didn
’
t include drums, which was a plus. We ran through it a couple of times, with Axel and Cole playing. There were some kinks to work out, since the melody danced back and forth between Rex
’
s part and mine. When Mark gave us a thumbs-up, we stopped working on that one and brainstormed some more. 

Before we knew it, Joe climbed out of his bunk, one of the spares left by Ike and Kirk, and went to talk to the other guy. Joe came back to ask if we wanted to go into Salt Lake City or take the I-84 cutoff. It was a slower road and had some hills, but on the other hand if we went through Salt Lake, we
’
d hit the heart of the city right at rush hour. There wasn
’
t much to think about. It was too early for dinner, and we still had over twelve hours of driving to Seattle. It was going to be close, with food stops, time to get a hotel in Seattle for cleaning up, and at least a minimum amount of rehearsal time with the studio musicians. We opted for the cutoff route and traveled another five hours to Boise, Idaho.

When I got off the bus at the restaurant in Boise, my legs were shaky from being on the road for so long. Joe joined us in the restaurant for dinner, while the other driver had the bus serviced. When we got started again, Joe would take over the driving, while his counterpart, whose name we never learned because he only spoke to Joe, made do with a takeout dinner and had his rest in the other spare bunk. Seven hours to go.

My throat hurt by then. I begged off any more singing that night, and went to sleep in Rex
’
s bunk not long after we got back on the road. I was disoriented and mentally foggy from the long hours on the road. I wanted to curl into Rex and feel safe, even if I was figuratively walking into the lion
’
s den.

It was past four a.m. by my watch when we pulled in at a cheap motel on the outskirts of Seattle, but we
’
d gained an hour in the time zone shift to the west. I
’
d had a solid seven hours of sleep, and Rex had been with me for six of them. We made slow, sweet love before we went to sleep in our motel room, as if our time together was coming to an end and we needed to create memories. Neither of us said it, but I sensed it, and it seemed Rex did, too. No matter what happened today, for at least one of us life would be changed forever by the end of it.

SIXTEEN

Rex
 

W
e were due on stage for the competition at two p.m. We staggered out of our rooms at an ungodly seven a.m., and then we had to choose the line-up of the songs we
’
d be playing for the hour, rehearse with the studio musicians and Amy, find something for Amy to do while onstage when she wasn
’
t singing, have two meals, clean up and dress for the performance, and find the venue. It didn
’
t seem possible to pull it together. Come hell or high water, though, we were going to be on that stage. We
’
d been through too much to get here to fuck it up now.

I didn
’
t count on having to find Amy a costume when I first listed the tasks, because I didn
’
t think about it. When she brought it up, I asked if her black leather bustier would do.

“
Sure. But I
’
ll need either some pants or a skirt to go with it. I don
’
t think the hot pants will be appropriate.
”

I couldn
’
t help my grin.
“
Baby, if you wear pants, they
’
re hot. Nothing you can do about that.
”

She stuck her tongue out at me, which made it difficult for me to concentrate.
“
What about a long, white lace skirt?
”

“
Whatever you think, sugar. Just don
’
t take too long finding it. We
’
re out of time.
”
We were sitting in a chain restaurant close to the hotel, waiting on a hearty breakfast. Amy opted for yogurt and fruit, and was done before the rest of us got our plates.

“
I
’
ll be back in a flash,
”
she said. She went outside to hail a taxi, and disappeared. It didn
’
t occur to me until hours later that the stores wouldn
’
t have been open at that time on a Sunday morning.

By ten, she still wasn
’
t back, and we had a problem. We had to leave immediately for a rehearsal with the studio musicians, and I didn
’
t know her phone number. What a stupid oversight, and one that was likely to bite us in the ass. She needed that rehearsal as much as the rest of us did. I held up the others for fifteen minutes, and then there was nothing more I could do. I scribbled the address where we
’
d be and hoped she could make her own way there. If not, we were back to our own devices, with nothing flashy to add to our routine for the competition.

Axel and Cole took it in stride.
“
Hey, man, we didn
’
t have her until yesterday, and we were going to do this. We can do without her. Just pull your head together, and don
’
t worry. She
’
ll be back.
”

If only I could believe that. On the ride over to the rehearsal hall, I thought back to that morning
’
s sex. She
’
d been wistful, almost withdrawn. Far from the hellcat she usually was in bed, she wanted to take everything slowly. I admit, I was into it. Making it last was always on my mind, especially with a younger woman. I wasn
’
t old, but there were times I wished for a little more stamina.

This morning, when I
’
d paid homage to both of her tits and then headed south, she made a sound of displeasure and urged me back up to kiss her some more. Then she held my head at her tits, while I sucked those little peaks until they were rock hard. At the same time, she shifted until my body was curved enough for her to reach the goods. She teased my balls with her fingernails, and stroked my shaft with them, too. She spread each drop of moisture from my tip over, around and down until she could slide her whole palm along my shaft like it was lubricated with 10W40.

Then, when I thought it was time for the main event, she twisted on top of me and slid down. She dragged her tits down my abs and rested with my dick between them for a minute before moving even further down and proving that deep-throat performance the other night was no fluke. By the time she was ready to stop, I was
this close
to the payoff. When she slid down on top of me, sinking me balls-deep in her hot pussy after rolling the condom on for me, it wasn
’
t long before I was groaning with the effort of holding back for her to catch up. The sight of her sitting upright, her tits bouncing, and her face strained with her own effort sent me over. From the sound of it, that triggered her, too.