The Biker's Heart (11 page)

Alicia had managed to surprise everyone – except, possibly, Becky and I – by being really, really,
really
good at college. She had never been studious in high school, but in the three years since then she’d shown herself to be the smartest girl in the room time after time. After an unsuccessful semester at the Missoula University of Technology, she’d transferred to the University of Montana and proceeded to blow Becky and I out of the water, grade-wise.

“
Don’t tell me what to do, you bitch! I’m coming, and don’t try to talk it out of me. Mimosas with my girls beats Russian Lit any day, baby,” she said on the other end of the phone. I turned to Becky, rolling my eyes.

We were sitting on the balcony of our apartment; we’d rented one together after freshman year. The three of us lived together in relative peace: some people said living with a best friend was a sure way to lose a best friend, but it had really only made us closer. Just then, I was talking to Alicia after her first class of the day. Becky and I both had the day off and were going to brunch. And now, it seemed, Alicia would be coming, too.

“
Alright, alright, I know better than to try and get you to be responsible. Come to Bertrand’s at 1,” I said before hanging up.

“
She’s skipping again?” Becky asked with a chuckle.

“
I guess so. She’ll still get an A, I bet,” I said. Becky and I hadn’t done so poorly for ourselves at college, either. I was in my last year, graduating early. The benefit of knowing exactly what I wanted to do the moment I started classes was that I didn’t waste any time taking random classes, like Becky had. I was going to graduate in May with a degree in archeology. Becky was probably going to graduate never with a degree in nothing.

That’s an exaggeration; but, much like Alicia had surprised everyone by being a college star, Becky had surprised everyone by revealing her flighty side. At that time, she was majoring in biology, but before that she’d majored in computer science, sociology, philosophy, and math. She’d done well in all of it, but she just couldn’t seem to find what she really wanted to do. It was okay, though; we were 21, and had all the time in the world.

There was a thumping from inside, then the sound of footsteps. Looking back, I smiled as Boon ambled out onto the balcony. I reached out, stroking his bare chest, still unable to get over what a perfect specimen of manliness he was.

“
Hey, sailor, sleep okay?”

He yawned and grinned down at me.

“
Perfect,” he said. “How could I not, after last night?”

“
Ugh, please, let’s not, guys. I had to
listen
to you last night, I don’t want to hear a play-by-play the morning after,” Becky said, feigning disgust. We all laughed. It was a subject of some contention in the apartment: whenever Boon stayed over, no one seemed to get much sleep. I preferred staying at his place, where he didn’t have any roommates and thicker walls, for just that reason.

“
Come to brunch, baby?” I asked, looking back up at Boon. He shook his head.

“
I got that thing down in Hamilton, remember?”

“
Oh, the little girl with the uncle? God, it makes me sick. I don’t know how you deal with that all the time…”

“
It’s better than what I used to deal with,” Boon said. “And this time at least I’m the good guy.”

“
You sure are,” I said, grabbing his arm and dragging him down for a kiss.

“
Dinner, though?” Boon asked, breaking away. I nodded. “I’m gonna shower and jet, okay?”

“
Good luck today,” I called after him as he disappeared into the apartment.

“
What’s in Hamilton?” Becky asked.

“
This little girl was living with her shithead uncle and he was beating her. She’s in court today so the club is going to sit in the audience or whatever for her,” I said.

Yeah, Boon is still in a club. A new one, one he founded, actually. But it’s a very different sort of club. The Bleeding Deacons are getting pretty famous around the West these days, and inspiring copycat groups.

See, Boon figured that the one thing that bikers are pretty universally known for (being big and scary) didn’t need to be such a bad thing. He’d been working at a garage, fixing bikes, and a customer told him about a nephew who’d been abused by his father, and how scared the kid was. That’s where Boon got the idea.

Now, the Bleeding Deacons visit children who are dealing with abuse cases and protect them. There’s always a Bleeding Deacon parked outside whatever kid’s house, making sure the abuser doesn’t come back. They give the kids little leather jackets and go to their court cases to show their support. They escort them around, if the guardians are okay with it. The kids are usually scared at first, but once they realize the big, scary men are there to
protect
them…well, you just have to see the way they smile.

Dad would tip Boon off to child abuse cases open in the area and the Bleeding Deacons would pay them a visit, and then the rest is history. Boon’s apartment was absolutely littered with hand-drawn thank you notes, doodles and scribbles, and stuffed animals gifted to him by the kids he protected. It all just made me that more convinced that Boon would make a great father…when we were ready.

Which I wasn’t. After the craziness that had been the summer after high school, I’d managed to get my life pretty much back under control. But the one thing I’d learned was that I didn’t need to be in a rush. For anything. I could have a kid when I felt ready. Boon and I could get married when I felt ready. Just like Becky could graduate when she felt like it. And Alicia could…well, Alicia always
knew
that she could do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted to. She didn’t need to have a whirlwind romance and a near death experience to learn that.

It was my last year of college, and I was 21. I still loved riding with the top down, I still loved Aunt Annie’s pretzels, and I still loved my grandma. I still had four Miss. Teen Missoula ribbons in a box somewhere in storage. I still had my Honda Civic, and my two best friends. And now I had Boon. I had everything. I had all the time and all the love in the world.

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