I'm relieved it's Friday. Pops' business is thriving, which leaves me with no free time. For the last five days, I've been working almost till midnight. I had to replace handlebars and levers, but a couple of bikes needed consumable parts that were impossible to find in our town, and I ordered them from the city.
I clutch the package I've just received and hop on my bike to go back to the garage. They could've delivered everything there, but those fuckers and work simply don't mix. Having to waste time bugs me, although I only have an oil change scheduled. Then, I'll be free to work out or hang out at The Temple.
Fat Boy rolls into our yard ten minutes later. I park it and make my way to the shop, frowning at the picture I see inside.
Pops isn't alone — at least ten dudes are with him, and the convo seems heated. I recognize Bill and other men who have small businesses in town.
"What's going on?" I ask as I stroll in and leave the parts on a shelf.
"We're discussing local issues, Son," Dad answers.
"What issues?"
Bill sighs. "The mayoral elections. Martin's one of the candidates, and we're worried about the support he's receiving."
"Martin, Martin..." I mumble, trying to recall who the dude is. Then, it hits me. "Martin, as in Gavin's father, who lives in the mansion?"
"That's the one," Bill says. "He started his campaign already, and he's bragging about having the support of the underrepresented minority. Giving poor folks money to ensure they vote for him is low. The roads are shitty; the job opportunities are scarce. We need a change, and Martin isn't the man for the job. He's never talked to people out there, and now he's suddenly an advocate for the least fortunate."
Bill's words are met with an avalanche of nods and create a commotion. The news is shitty. We haven't had a decent governor in years, and unless you have a business, there isn't much else to do here. Only a few of us stayed after we graduated from high school. I can't blame those who left, but it's sad when you do it because you won't have anything if you stay.
I work on my client's bike, listening to snippets of conversations. Gavin's father isn't popular with people like us, but it doesn't mean the rest won't believe his empty promises.
Getting the info out of my head is hard, especially when my mind goes into its usual over-analyzing mode. Partly it's because of the way I am — I can't leave the issue alone until I've learned everything about it.
I almost smack my forehead with the wrench I'm holding when I think about Ferdinand and his interest in a girl like Kitten. What if he needed someone to clean his daddy's image after he supported the dude who molested Annie? And what if the money he gave Kitten's mother was his way to make sure they'd vote for him? I wouldn't be surprised in either case, but each scenario is sickening.
"Are you done, Son?" Pops asks when everyone has left, and I'm finishing tidying up.
"Yeah. You?"
Pops smiles. "I am. Mom and I are going out tonight, and I only have one thing to do tomorrow. Rest this weekend. Go, have some fun."
"I might, Dad. Thanks."
"Okay. I'm gonna take a shower and get changed, and then I'm out."
Pops says bye and leaves, and I close the garage, eager to get the hell out of there. It's barely after six, but the sky's almost dark.
Kitten creeps into my mind as I walk home. I haven't seen her in days — her curtain's always drawn when I make it to my room late at night. Once I'm next to the porch, I glance toward Kitten's house, and my heart lurches.
The chick is hanging out of her bedroom window, gripping the windowsill with her tiny weak hands. The wind blows and lifts the skirt she's wearing. Kitten flashes her little round ass in black panties with white polka dots all over them.
The boy would've perked up at the show if it had been any other day. Now, panic surges through me cause the stupid chick might fall and get seriously injured.
I sprint toward the fence and jump over it, landing in Kitten's backyard. A couple of strides later, I'm standing under her window.
"What the fuck?" I yell. "Are you fucking suicidal?"
Kitten looks at me over her shoulder. Smudges of mascara cover the skin under her eyes. Wetness coats her cheeks, and I regret being so harsh.
My voice drops an octave. "Leah, come on. What are you doing?"
"I have to escape, okay? Gavin's coming to pick up my mother and me in five minutes, and I don't want to go anywhere with him."
A sigh leaves my mouth. "I'll get the ladder."
"There's no time. I need to jump."
The chick is batshit crazy, but that ass in those panties is too cute to die tonight.
"Then jump. I'll catch you," I say.
"Are you sure?" Kitten squeaks.
"Sure, sure. Come on, Princess. I love the view, and your panties are cute, but hurry your ass up."
"Okay." Leah loosens her hold on the windowsill, squealing when she falls and lands in my arms. She sobs while she shakes, and I hug her tightly. "Hush, silly," I whisper, kissing the top of her head.
Kitten sniffles. "Can I hide in your house?"
That she has to hide from that jerk and her useless mother makes me see all shades of fucking red. My brain works fast.
"Nah," I say and grip her hand. "I have a better idea. Do as I say, okay?"
Kitten nods. I run toward the fence and help her climb over it. There's no time to waste. When I'm on the other side, I drag Leah to my house and dash up the stairs with her in tow. Once in my bedroom, I grab the saddlebag and toss some clothes into it without thinking much. Then, I give one of my leather jackets to Kitten.
"Put it on fast," I say.
She obeys. I grab some money and zip up the bag. We sprint downstairs and then out of the house. I hand Kitten a helmet, hop on Fat Boy, and wait for her to do the same as I start the bike.
In less than a minute, we're riding out of my driveway.
My lips curl into a smirk when a vehicle approaches us. It's Ferdinand, and I give him my middle finger as I speed up, and my motorbike lifts the cloud of dust off the road.
Kitten laughs so hard I feel her shake behind me.
"It's a two-hour ride, Princess," I say over the roar of the engine. "We'll make a pit stop in an hour, but for now, hold on to me and don't let go."
I smile when Kitten's small hands grip my waist. We cruise down the shitty town roads at first, but then it's the highway and the wind in my face and the sense of freedom I can't imagine my life without.
Leah lets out a little squeal as I accelerate and pass a couple of trucks. The evening traffic isn't dense, which allows me to maneuver better and ride much faster. I'm going slightly over the limit, feeling the thrill of what's ahead of us and enjoying the view of the bright light cast by the few vehicles we encounter on our way. In an hour, I slow down when a gas station comes into view.
"How's that cute butt of yours, Kitten?" I ask when I park the bike and help Leah climb off it.
"A bit numb," she says.
"You'll get used to it. If you wanna use the restroom, do it now. I'll grab some coffee."
Kitten goes to the ladies', and I text Pops to say where I'm going while waiting for my order.
I hand Kitten her cappuccino when she's back. She hums as she takes a sip and asks, "Can you tell me where we're going? I saw you grab some clothes, but I don't have any with me. If it's this far, I might need something."
"Fuck, of course," I groan. "We might have to stop somewhere first."
Leah nods. She's almost too compliant, which makes me wonder why she was so desperate to escape.
"Why was Fer going to pick you up? Didn't you dump him?" I ask.
Kitten rolls her eyes. "I did, but his mother came to see mine on Sunday, saying they were organizing a birthday dinner for me. My birthday's tomorrow, but I doubt it matters to them. My mother didn't accept that Gavin and I are over, so she promised we'd be there. And I just can't, you know? I can't even look at him. I don't want him pressing me against his door trying to kiss me again."
"The fuck?"
"It was nothing. I just don't wanna date him."
Nothing, my ass. What Leah told me tastes more bitter than my pitch-black coffee.
"Did you tell your mother why you dumped the fucker?"
Kitten shrugs. "I tried, but it's useless. She'll be mad I escaped, but she'll be at work tonight."
"She works? Where?"
"At some factory. She's gonna work night shifts, but the pay's better."
I down the rest of my coffee and look away. Grace is a liar. I know the area where we live like the back of my hand, and there isn't a single factory. Why she'd feed Kitten bullshit is a mystery.
"Come on, baby," I say.
Leah stares at me. Her eyes flare, and I realize what I said too late.
"I meant Kitten," I correct myself. "Let's go."
Kitten's quiet as we restart the journey. I ride off the highway and enter a town in a while. A short ride later, we're at the only mall they have, but since it's big, they'll surely have what we need.
"Brian, why are we here?" Leah asks.
"A brief detour to get the things you need for our getaway. Come on."
I take Leah's hand and lead her into a clothes store. She looks around in awe, and I wish we had more time to see stuff.
"They're closing soon," I say. "Take what you need."
"Brian, I can't. I can't pay."
"Consider it a birthday present. We'll be away till Monday. Either you get some underwear and pants, or you'll wear the same skirt and panties. I'd suggest you choose warm clothes."
Leah tries to object but picks up a pair of jeans and a warm sweater, together with some underwear. I grab some things for her, hoping she won't be mad.
I don't let Kitten see how much I spent. It's not a lot, not for a guy who's been earning money for a while and doesn't pay rent.
"Thank you," Leah whispers when we walk out of the mall with our hands full of bags.
"It's nothing. The idea was mine. It's not your fault I didn't give you time to pack."
"It isn't nothing, Brian," Kitten says.
"Come on; the bike won't ride itself."
Leah says nothing and follows me to my bike. I stuff everything in the bag, and we're ready to go in a short while.
Only an hour passes when we're at our destination. Curiosity pours out of Kitten, but she doesn't ask questions.
When I unlock the gate and park next to the beautiful house I've spent so much time at, she timidly climbs off my Harley.
I take off my helmet and stroll toward the porch.
Banging my fist on the front door, I yell, "Pops senior!"