Riding with the Beast (an MC Fairy Tale)

1 - Beast

[The story you are about to read is intended for readers age 18+ due to its sexual content and language. It may not be appropriate for all audiences. Please read at your own discretion.]

******

1 - Beast

******

I first saw her just north of the Nevada boarder. It would have been impossible not to. For a hundred miles there’d been nothing but desert highway and barbed wire ranch fences protecting dead shrubs.

I almost convinced myself she was a mirage the heat conjured up to fuck with me. Nothing about her seemed right. Her jeans were swimming on her tiny hips, her white t-shirt almost reached her knees, and she seemed to sway instead of walk. When I got within fifty feet, she stuck out her thumb without glancing at me up even once.

I kept driving.

I didn’t have time to pick up a stray, and no way in hell could I protect that stray from what followed me. I had a hunch the girl didn’t want to get involved in a biker turf war. Wouldn’t surprise me if she were running away from something like that. Anyone wandering around alone in the desert had their own problems to deal with, and the last thing I needed was more crazy bullshit. Keeping to myself was the smart thing to do.

So of course, I didn’t do it.

As I passed her, I looked over for just one second.

I’d seen a lot of sad things in Texas and New Mexico. Abandoned cars. Main Streets lined with boarded-up buildings. Houses with sagging roofs and chicken wire for doors. Everywhere there were people who were hungry and hurting and needing things I couldn’t give them. So I don’t know why this small, random woman got to me so bad.

For a moment, I wasn’t aware of the road or where I was. I wasn’t even aware of myself. All I saw and felt were her dark eyes watching my car retreat behind strands of black, matted hair. I couldn’t see enough of her to know how beautiful she was yet. In fact, right then she didn’t even look beautiful. Just young, desperate, and lonely…so lonely that I think I felt her loneliness even more than my own.

My mind started to race. How far was it to the next town? Twenty miles at least. How long would it take her to walk that far? And where was her fucking purse? Did she have anything to drink? How did she even get out here?

“Shit.”

I couldn’t leave her out here without offering a ride. I’d drop her off in the next town if she got in the car. If.

It was a pretty big if.

I spun the wheel. The beater I got from Lenny back in San Antonio didn’t have the best turning radius, but he’d assured me it would make it to Bend—probably. Lenny was notoriously full of shit, but I’d been desperate. Still, it shocked me when the wheels hit the side of the highway and the hood started floating up and down like a goddamn bobble head.

Dust swarmed around the car as I lurched to a stop. Making it all the way to Bend in “reliable Betsy”—Lenny’s words, not mine—was a fucking fairy tale, but it could probably go another twenty miles. Maybe. The woman probably wouldn’t have to walk any further if she accepted a ride.

She kept her head down as she approached, probably to keep the particles out of her eyes. Wind blew her hair over her face and shoulders, obscuring both, making her look like that creepy ghost chick from The Ring.

I popped open the passenger door when she got close. “Need a ride?”

She looked up.

I thought she’d be a teen runaway. Even some crazy lady selling human teeth out of her pockets would have been more likely. Or, hell, a real, honest-to-god ghost. But what I saw was the last thing I’d expected.

Her bronzed skin had a porcelain appearance despite being caked with sweat and dirt. Her golden eyes had a predatory slant. Her chapped lips were almost too full, her delicate nose almost too long, her sharp cheekbones almost too proud. She was almost too much of everything—almost too much to be real.

But she was real, and she was hurt. Her knuckles, nose, and cheeks were peeling. She had some dried blood on her bottom lip and shirt. She’d been in the sun too long, most likely ‘cause she had no choice. She needed someone to help her.

And I doubted she’d let that someone be me.

She inhaled sharply the moment she saw me. Her lovely lips trembled, her over-sized eyes widened, and her grip on the door tightened until her entire arm shook.

She probably wanted to slam it.

She probably wanted to run as far as she could in the opposite direction.

She only didn’t because she was afraid of what would happen if a creature like me decided to chaise her and caught up.

I was used to getting those kinds of looks. Even Katy sometimes got this wild look in her eyes when we were alone, like I’d turn feral at any moment. Couldn’t blame any of them, really. My face was covered with the kind of scars you prayed to god you’d never learn the story behind. It was so goddamn ugly that when you saw it, you couldn’t help but remember all the ugly shit in your own life.

It made me feel a little responsible. Stupid, maybe, but true. Sometimes recalling something bad was worse than the event itself.

I forced my gaze away from her beautiful face and back onto the road. “You wanna leave, I’m not gonna follow you.”

She gasped, surprised I’d read her thoughts.

“You wanna lift to the next town, get in.”

Then, I waited for her to slam the door.