Ride for Tomorrow (Riders of the Apocalypse Book #1)

Chapter 2

Two Weeks Ago

Dallas backed her 2003 Harley Ultra Glide out of the small garage beneath one of Berkeley's infamous Victorians. The lavender and white-trimmed Painted Lady stood in stark contrast to the cherry red and white paint job of her beloved motorcycle with her name airbrushed across the tank in a stylized cursive.

"Going to the city?" Mrs. Horowitz asked, bending over to scoop up her cat, Vincent who had just tried to escape to the front yard. "Vinny could sure use some of that organic catnip you brought him last time."

Dallas fastened her helmet and nodded, feeling like a bobble-head doll as she did. "Absolutely, Mrs. H., but I might be late. I heard the traffic on the bridge is worse than usual."

The older woman stroked the gray and white cat and nodded. "No hurry, dear. We'll be here when you get back."

Dallas straddled the low-slung saddle and started the engine, the loud Reinhart pipes roaring to life like an angry bear. Pulling out onto the street, she felt the stresses of the day slowly melt away as the warm wind caressed her face.

As days went, this one had sucked. Royally. It had started out with her girlfriend of three years handing her the pink slip.

"We're done," Lisa had said as she carried two suitcases to the door. Dallas wondered if she was watching a show. Who really packed up suitcases when leaving their relationship and set them by the door? Who did that?

But Lisa wasn't just leaving. She was peeling out. Burning rubber. Hitting the danger zone. She was...done. No discussion. No tears. No guilt or accusations. Not even an explanation. Just done.

"Did you feed the dog?"

Lisa whirled around, her eyes holding a mixture of anger and disbelief. "It's so like you not to even fight for me, Dallas...for us." Lisa shook her head sadly, defeated. "You never did know when to pull and when to push."

And just like that, Lisa walked out of her house and out of her life.

Dallas doubted she would return. When Lisa was done, that was it. Whatever it was she'd wanted Dallas to fight for had died long before today.

So, it felt good to air it out on the short freeway ride to the Bay Bridge, even though the traffic was beginning to slow down to the inevitable bumper-to-bumper pace endemic to the Bay Area freeways after two-thirty in the afternoon.

Since splitting lanes is legal in California, Dallas slowed down just enough to squeeze through the traffic clogging the lanes to the tollbooth.

Once she motored through the toll area, the cool sea air reminded her of how cold it could get on the bridge, even in July. Only her face felt the sting of the salt air. Her flapping jacket and chaps kept her warm and dry. She loved her black leather Harley Davidson jacket. Lisa had given it to her last year for her twenty-fifth birthday. She went everywhere in that jacket. It would probably be the only thing from their failed relationship worth keeping.

It wasn't Lisa's fault, really. They'd grown apart over the last year or so-ever since Dallas had accepted her dream job as a firefighter...a job she'd trained hard for and dreamt about ever since 9/11. She loved her job, loved helping people, and enjoyed the wonderful camaraderie of her fellow firefighters. They'd accepted her right off, probably because she could cook, swear, and throw a mean curve ball. The guys were all right in her book and would be thrilled Lisa was out of the picture. They'd never really cared for the way Lisa spoke to them...as if being a man was a crime. Lisa never quite understood that disliking men in general made her as narrow-minded as those who did the same to them as lesbians.