WRECKED: CHOSEN FEW MC - BOOK TWO: OUTLAW BIKER/ALPHA ROMANCE (12 page)

“All the people who are trying to poison our minds—that’s what he said. He said he’s going to stop them.”

“Them?”

He shrugged. “The government. Probably you and Mrs. Turnbull, and all the teachers. I don’t really know who he meant or what he’s thinking… when he’s mad, a lot of what he says doesn’t make sense. Partly that’s because he is just talking to himself. I hear pieces of his thoughts.”

“But you don’t have any idea what he intends to do—to stop us?”

Brian shrugged. “No. Just that he thinks he knows how to send a message that will let the world know what is going on. He thinks most people are asleep and need a wakeup call.”

“I wish I had some idea of what that meant.”

Brian sighed. “Me, too. He’s online a lot. Maybe he’ll get a web site.”

That didn’t seem likely. According to Luc and Greg, he already had a serious online presence and forums for his ideas. Melanie considered her options—she didn’t have many. That his father was in some political funk didn’t necessarily mean that the boy or anyone else was in any danger. Jumping the gun, getting the authorities involved and then having his father turn out to be a harmless whacko would destroy her credibility. It would make her seem foolish and irresponsible to Brian. It also would turn his father’s rant into a self-fulfilling prophecy. She was talking to Brian, pumping him for information, and if she used it against him, things would have gone exactly as he said.

She felt helpless.

“Would you do me a favor? I’d appreciate it if you and I talk a bit every day. Not a discussion. Don’t tell me what your father is reading or doing, just talk with me so you can let me know that things are still okay. If he is just angry, that’s none of my business, but if things change, if you ever feel that you are in any danger at all, I’ll find a way to help you. If you aren’t, no matter what your father wants to think or say, I won’t interfere.”

The boy grinned weakly, his relief evident. “That sounds fair. I don’t think he’d like it though.”

“All I ask is for you to let me know that things are okay, and I promise I won’t let him find out we are even talking about that.”

Brian sighed. “I wish I had a biker uncle that thinks I’m great, like Carly does. That is so neat.”

It occurred to her that Brian might talk to Greg. “She likes him.”

“And that bike is amazing.”

She thought of Greg introducing himself to her through a bike ride. If Greg was willing to ask Brian to go for a ride, that might be a way to help him open up. The trick would be getting Brian away from his father when school was out. That wouldn’t be easy.

“It is a nice bike, and he does protect her, doesn’t he?” The idea of Greg protecting her did seem pleasant. “I guess we all want someone to protect us. I think he’d do anything for her.”

“As much as she’ll let him. Carly doesn’t need a lot of protecting.”

“I think you’re right. You’re pretty strong too.”

“If I did have an uncle like that, I’d ask him to take me for a ride. A really, really long ride.” He looked wistful, imagining it. “I would ride and ride and wouldn’t ever come back.”

That he had a child’s version of her current fantasy was somehow reassuring. “Well, we have to work with what we’ve got, Brian. And you do have me. Keep me up to date and I’ll help.”

He smiled. “Thanks.”

When she headed back to her desk she could see he was standing straighter. The sight made her feel better for a time.

* * *

At the end of the day Brian headed right home. When he waved goodbye he looked better, more upbeat than he had in some time. She had no illusions about it lasting. Brian wasn’t as strong as she encouraged him to believe. Who was? Putting up with his father’s ranting whenever he wasn’t at school would be enough to wear anyone down. At home, where he was supposed to be safe, and putting up with a constant barrage of anger and vitriol, was a cruelty.

Thinking about it made her shake. She felt the rage and fury aroused by the idea that a person would expect a child, their own child, to deal with that much hate as a constant thing.

“Something wrong?”

She turned to see Greg standing, watching her. Carly was heading toward the bike and she realized she had been so preoccupied she hadn’t even heard him arrive. “Just worrying about one of the kids.”

“Just worrying? You’re pale and shaking; panicking is more like it.”

“I’m probably overreacting. I do that.” She forced herself to smile. “These kids are at a point where they are developing fast, and have an entire life to live. If we can give them the right tools, they’ll realize their potential. But that’s only part of it and the hard part is when you see a child who isn’t getting the right encouragement or support. A teacher doesn’t have the right or the ability to give them everything they need. I should be better at letting go, but not all the kids have a family that makes sure they do their homework and still lets them rebuild motorcycles.”

Greg smiled. “She does have a bit of two worlds, doesn’t she? You and I and Carly’s folks are all doing our best, and while there are some bumps we have to deal with, for the moment she seems to be getting the best of both of those worlds. Certainly no one can complain about the quality of her schooling.”

“Why, Mr. Jones, are you flattering me?”

“It would seem that I am.”

“And to what end?”

Greg looked embarrassed. “Look, today I have to take Carly straight home from school.” He grinned. “Her mother decided that if she can fix bikes, she can also learn to cook. She had a good week with tips at the cafe and decided on a mother-daughter weekend of baking and other domestic bliss. Jake likes the idea of having his kid around a bit more too, so Willow wants to take her shopping for ingredients as soon as I get her home. “

“I’m glad to hear that. I don’t see how that leads you to flatter me, however.”

“Well, seeing as my assistant is taking a long weekend, I thought it an opportune time to suggest another bike ride. A single taste can’t possibly give you the benefit of the experience, and I feel an obligation to remedy that. Not to mention that I can’t seem to get enough of your company.”

“You are a charmer.”

“Charming enough that you’ll let me take you away from all this? We can take a ride up the coast again. The coastline is the best scenery around, and quite soothing. And I know a good place where I can treat you to an excellent dinner.”

“What, no burgers?”

“How about seafood?”

“Not fish and chips.”

“Ms. Wilford, I am proposing a real meal. A real restaurant where, within reason, you can dine on whatever you want.”

The idea of not being alone, of having Greg’s company, sounded blissful. Taking a ride seemed a perfect way to put her concerns out of her head for a time, maybe long enough to regain her equilibrium. At the suggestion she found her arms aching to be around him. “I’ll admit that riding your bike is rather addictive. And a Friday night dinner out with you makes it a wonderful offer.”

“I can be back here in half an hour.”

She indicated her skirt and blouse. “It might be better to change into jeans, don’t you think?”

“That would be more comfortable. And the heels might not be ideal for a bike ride.”

“Exactly. I have a few things to wrap up here, and then I’ll go home and change. Give me an hour or a bit more, and pick me up at my place, please. I probably won’t be quite ready, but almost.”

He winked. “Such a deal!”

She still felt weak as she watched Greg and Carly disappear, but there was no doubt that just being around Greg had given her back some strength. Maybe being with him would ease her mind for awhile. Maybe it would do more than that. She had to move slowly, but maybe he would help get her through the weekend and come out better.

CHAPTER NINE

Things often lose their appeal through repetition, but Melanie found the ride up the coast just as thrilling, as exciting as the first one had been. Maybe, as Thomas Wolfe said, you can’t go home again, but on the other hand, a possibly wiser head said that you never step into the same river twice and this bike ride was the same as the first, yet different.

The spectacular scenery and the visceral thrill of wind and speed, her arms wrapped around Greg, whose powerful body matched the sense of power of his motorcycle, propelled her into a whirl that was, ultimately, a sensual thrill. Only the nagging worry about what Brian’s father might be up to kept things from being absolutely perfect. Even that couldn’t dispel the absolute pleasure of those moments.

This time he took her to a small restaurant that sat alone along the side of the road. Greg downshifted and pulled into the empty parking lot. The place was a bit shabby and she took it in as she removed her helmet and steadied her legs on the ground. Greg offered her his arm in an exaggerated display of courtly behavior. As they walked in the door a stout man in a white shirt and black pants came up to them. “Wrench, I’m so glad to see you,” he said. “That bike of mine…”

Greg held up a hand and stopped him. “Hello, Chris. I’d like you to meet Melanie. I bragged about the food here. I hope you won’t let me down.”

Seeing Melanie for the first time, he bowed. “My apologies. I put my passion ahead of my profession. That was terribly crass, Melanie. I’m Chris.”

She grinned at him. “If the food is as good as promised, you will be forgiven.”

“Since Wrench has but limited taste buds, I assure you it will be better than that.” With that, he led them to a table. They were the only diners in the place. As they sat, Greg looked at the eager look on his friend’s face and laughed. “Okay, Chris. Bring the bike by the shop and we will look at it.”

“Thank you. But it doesn’t run at all. It’s been—”

“Don’t confuse me with what you think is wrong with it. You’re a great cook, but a total loss when it comes to mechanics. And please remember that I did tell you not to get that bike. I told you an American bike or a Jap bike would be better than that Limey piece of garbage.”

“Yes, but I could afford it.” His face lit up. “And when she runs…”

“Which is not very often and that’s exactly the problem. You’re spending more on keeping it running than seems right.”

He winced. “True. And tips have been poor lately.”

“Then I’ll offer you a deal you can’t afford to refuse. If you can manage to shut up about your damn faltering Limey bike for tonight and dazzle us with your amazing service, I won’t charge you for the labor to get you back on the road. I can use it to show Carly how a bike should never be made.”

His eyes lit up. “You’ll have Carly do it? Excellent!”

Greg grinned at Melanie. “Her reputation is spreading.” He nodded at Chris. “Melanie is Carly’s teacher.”

“Delighted.” Then his face fell. “But how will I get it there? It won’t start.”

“If the meal is any good, I’ll send one of the guys up with the crash truck on Monday.”

Chris grinned. “You are a pal.”

“Call me a sucker. Now go into your act.” He looked at Melanie. “Chris is a one-man show as well as cook.”

Then, to Melanie’s delight, the man straightened up, took a breath, and transformed himself into a perfect, almost snobby, waiter, suggesting various dishes.”

“How about the seafood?” Greg asked.

“The filet mignon,” he said firmly.

She glanced at Greg and he laughed. “Chris knows his stuff.”

She smiled. “Then why don’t you bring us what you think we’ll enjoy?”

Chris beamed. “Perfect.”

“I’d like a glass of wine… something to go with whatever I’m eating.”

Chris looked at Greg. “Iced tea for me, Chris. An ex con driving with any alcohol on his breath is just looking to be rousted.”

Chris brought the drinks and then disappeared into the kitchen. Melanie realized the truth that Greg would see people, the world, things like law and order, from an entirely different perspective than she did. Just as Malcolm Innes had his own world. She smiled at him. “Is that true, that the cops are harder on you than other people?”

He shrugged. “Some are, some aren’t, but being a biker and being an ex con gives them an excuse to be hard on you if they are disposed to. Being a cautious soul, for a renegade biker, that is, I play it safe. I’ll have a beer with the guys sometimes, but mostly if I want to drink, I prefer to do it at home.”

Then Greg skillfully turned the conversation to Jake’s rehab, followed by casual questions about her life outside of school. She found him easy to talk to, and happily sketched out her life for him. “Rather dull, I’m afraid.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Working to put your way through school and ultimately achieving what you set out to do, become a teacher, sounds pretty persistent, dedicated, and intelligent to me. Some of us could benefit by your example. You established yourself in your profession, and are doing something important to you—teaching children.”

“So are you.” She grinned.

“Okay, but haphazardly, I’m afraid. And only incidentally.”

“And you are a survivor.”

He scowled. “So are you. We just had different things that we’ve had to survive.” His expression changed suddenly. “And just in time to rescue us from such serious in-depth analysis of our souls, comes our food.”

And so she found herself served, with remarkable elegance, a delicious meal of tender steak, new potatoes, and a crisp green salad.

A few customers came in and Chris left to deal with them, and then disappeared into the kitchen, looking happy.

During the meal Greg asked more questions, seemingly curious about what it had been like to grow up in North Carolina, and why she’d moved to California. Her vague explanation seemed to delight him.

When she asked, he told her about being a hot rodder as a kid, and then going into the Marines and learning proper mechanics working on helicopters until he’d been asked to leave.

“What did you do?”

“I hit an officer.”

“Isn’t that really serious?”

“Yes, but my decision to knock him cold saved a helicopter crew from serious injury. They couldn’t overlook the fact that I’d broken a big deal rule but they managed to let me off with a general discharge if I promised not to make the story public.