7. Blakely
Blakely
“ I ’ll see you later, Lenny.” I wave at her as I depart to my caravan for another session, Chaos and Arrow are on my heels as I cross the road.
I have known Dean since I was a little girl. Over the years he always came to visit me and Dad at our shop and even worked with us from time to time.
Lenny and Dean are both tattoo artists and the amount of inspiration they instilled in me is endless. I have so much respect for them. At twenty-seven, Lenny is a successful name in the industry. She traveled with her husband and tattooed people all over the state and abroad. They have their shop when they’re not on the road and she is the coolest lady I’ve ever met. Surfing, riding her skateboard, doing extreme sports—all when she’s not pregnant, of course.
They are goals.
“Come on, girls.” They follow me until we reach the door of the caravan and I place two plastic cups with water on the ground for them. “Drink.”
They do and settle down under a shade.
I drag my pen down the clipboard, and my eyes scan the various names before I read the next name on the list.
Milo.
I grab my phone and send him a text.
Blakely
Are you ready for your tattoo session?
Milo
I was born ready!
On my way.
I chuckle to myself as I prepare my equipment in the meantime.
Milo comes into view, jumping inside with his vibrant energy. “I brought you fresh lemonade, Donna made it this morning.” He settles a bottle on the table and takes a seat on the chair.
“Thank you that would be great after the amazing food I just had.” I open the cap and take a few sips before I place it back in the same spot.
“It seems like you’re doing great so far, right?” His eyes squint.
I nod as my smile widens, “Sure, I’m having a great time.”
“Good!” He leans back.
I set my speaker, starting a new playlist before I pull Milo’s stencil from a pile I made for my clients this week. I took the time to text all of them yesterday and get an idea of what they want me to tattoo. Thankfully, all of them want small ones with no major amount of work.
It’s crazy, some people come here to spend one day watching the bikers, eating food, and getting a tattoo. I didn’t think anyone would do that but I guess that’s why people are coming here from afar.
I browse over notes he gave me on my phone since he’s dedicating his tattoo to his wife. Perhaps, it was different in their generation. Easier. Better.
Do I truly believe this?
I zero in on the glass container I drew, there are a few open notes with special dates.
1989—wedding anniversary.
1991—our business.
1997—Meadow.
The last one catches in my throat.
Now it makes sense, he said he was Dean’s cousin and Donna is Dean’s aunt so that makes them related. My suspicions are confirmed, he is Meadow’s dad.
“Have you met my son yet?” Milo grins, “He’s a hell of a rider if you’re into the sport.”
I don’t know what came over me today when Meadow held me like that, it pissed me off more than anything. Not for the reasons I thought it would. Instead of saying something, I started tearing up like a total idiot over a guy I barely knew. His touch was comforting. I feel like I need to be strong and stand tall all the time and I just wish I could lie next to someone and rest. Feel safe in their arms. Be at peace. Trust them with my heart.
I admit, I just needed a hug.
Yet this is my break and I promised to focus on myself.
No distractions.
I fall back into our conversation, “On more than one occasion.” I keep quiet, showing no emotions whatsoever. “I didn’t know he was your son at first.”
“The one and only.” He smiles. “He has a way of leaving a strong impression.”
Funny, those were Meadow’s words to me.
“For doing what he does on the tracks you’ve got to have an unbreakable stance but also be resilient. Not getting into altercations with other riders. Force yourself to focus on the race and on the stunts you perform.”
My face twists in confusion. Tracks, stunts, races. “What does Meadow do?”
“Oh, he didn’t tell you. I thought he would because you’re practically family.” He pursues his lips, arching his brows. “Maybe he didn’t want anyone to recognize him. Sometimes they send people to follow him and he’s not a fan.” He considers something for a second, “He prefers to keep his private life… private.”
Now he is mysterious.
“He’s a risk taker you can’t steer him off something once he’s already made up his mind.”
Yup! That sounds about right.
Kind of hot though, and it doesn’t matter, Blakely, because this back-and-forth with Meadow is just for fun .
“Was he a troublemaker as a teen?” based on what Dean told us earlier, it sounds like it.
“Only here, around these people, he felt free enough to be silly but at home, he was pretty quiet. A massive motorcycle enthusiast.” He hums to a Queen song that just started playing.
I push the bag of sweets in his direction—I caught him snacking on them when Donna wasn’t looking. He immediately grabs a few and tosses them into his mouth.
“I think the bikes give him the freedom he always wanted. The anonymity of doing something major but at the same time not everyone knows who you are, or how you look. The helmet is a good cover until you don’t have a choice.” He chews a few gummy bears. “A lot of bikers hide behind their helmets. Only those who are close to them know who they truly are. Adds to the thrill, I guess.”
“You think he doesn’t want to be seen?” I tilt my gaze from his hand to his face but continue to sanitize it.
The corner of his mouth twitches, then he crinkles his nose, lastly arching his brows as he sighs. “I think he wants to protect who he cares about most. But knowing him he also doesn’t want to be taken for granted or left out.” He shrugs his shoulders, “If you want to learn more about Meadow you will have to spend time with the source.” He winks before he continues to sing the rest of the song.
I don’t know if seeing him is a good idea, or if I even want to.
He intrigues me I won’t lie but at the same time, he confuses me. It is extremely disorienting to know that Milo is his Dad because they are so different. They both have a good sense of humor but Meadow is just… rougher.
There is still a resemblance between them, wanting to help others the moment someone is in need.
He is not bad, just, maddening. He knows how to strum on my weaknesses so fucking easily. It’s disturbing and mildly attractive.
Our session lasts for three hours and when I finish the final line, I shut down the machine. “You can run and show it to Donna.” I grin from ear to ear. It came out so good, I’m so happy with this result.
I take a picture before I wrap his arm and avert my gaze back to him. Tears well in his eyes and my confidence falters.
I fucked up.
“Did I forget something..?” My heart hammers and the veins in my cheeks boil. “It’s not what you had in mind?”
Shit!
“It’s not that,” he shakes his head sideways, “It’s perfect.” He grins, wiping the tears away, “Just like my family.”
I exhale a breath of relief, feeling lightheaded as I grab the bottle of lemonade and gulp it down.
After my session with Milo, I went for a short ride and I’m back now, surrounded by the loud noises traveling from The Garage behind me.
My gaze is locked on my black-converse as I finish my smoke and stride inside the convenience store. All I want is a cold Pepsi as I extract one from the cooler.
It’s been a weird day.
My thoughts are all over the place and my appetite is gone.
I see Meadow behind the counter, working the cashier and squeezing Milo’s shoulder, “I’m happy to help.” He wears a helmet with a bunny cover and his black riding jacket.
Ugh, he looks adorable right now.
Despite the nice show, he is still an ass when he wants to be and I know how to be one myself, especially around him.
Noticing my arrival, Milo winks at me. “Don’t let him fool you, he’s a softy deep inside.”
“It’s buried six feet under,” I nonchalantly reply and manage to make Milo snort a laugh.
“He also pretends to help but I had to quench his thirst with my precious bottles.” He curves his hand around the corner of his mouth as if whispering a secret. “Your dad and I drank them together in the back while telling jokes and stories about the good old days. You can have one if you’d like.”
“I had to work for this and she gets one like that?” Meadow teases. “I need a smoke.”
Milo pushes him with his elbow jokingly and shows him his hand, “She gave me a tattoo and you need to slow down.”
“You need someone to kick your ass,” I can’t keep my mouth shut, “Sorry, Milo.”
“By all means.” Milo laughs again and looks at Meadow, “I like her. She’s a good sport.”
I respond to his previous mention, “It has always been my Dad’s favorite time of year.” Mine at the boot camp and his in these meetups. “Save me one for later. I’ll call Dad on the phone and we’ll chat with him. He would love that.”
“That’s a great idea,” he gives me a proud nod that lifts a grin on my face. “You can learn a thing or two from Blakely here.” Nudging Meadow’s shoulder, he jokes again. “His moral compass needs a tweak or a full repair, occasionally. If you have any tools, please, be our guest.”
We all chuckle in unison.
“You’re off the clock, Frodo.” Milo wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “He had a cloak. You have a helmet.” A tiny curl inches higher at the edge of his mouth.
“Hide your precious,” I add with a smirk.
“Nice!” Milo shakes Meadow’s head and shoves a pack of cigarettes into his front pocket.
Meadow rolls his eyes. “May I have my beer now?”
“See,” Milo holds his hand up to emphasize his meaning, then he walks away and disappears in the back.
Meadow’s laser gaze lands on me, assessing my fidgeting foot and the hard bite on my lip. “Do you want to do something fun?” He plays with his rings, “Let me show you what this place is all about.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “With you of all people?”
“You already like to go on rides with strangers.” This again. “ Better a lovable stranger.”
“First, you have to be lovable.” I open my Pepsi, enjoy the sound accompanying it, and take a few sips.
“Mm,” he pretends to snarl under the helmet. “Say yes, Wilder.”
His words are warm and welcoming, but there’s something behind his eyes that I can’t understand just yet because I don’t know him but they reflect longing and sadness.
It is the same thing I see when I look in the mirror.
I just met him. And yes, I find him attractive, everyone does by the looks they’re giving him when he walks by but I don’t want to disturb the peace, especially, when he is Milo’s son.
“Dad I need to go, rain-check.” He calls out.
It takes a minute for Milo to respond, “Safe ride, I’ll see you out there later.”
I’m fucking doomed because my next words are, “Fun like what?” I question.
Slamming down his helmet’s visor, he cocks his head to the side, “Like putting a smile on people’s faces.”
“Fine.” I swing the can in my hand, “I need to pay for this first.”
“No need, I’ll take care of it afterward.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me gently toward the exit. “We need to go now, I’m already late.”
So impatient.
Meadow grabs a spare helmet and tucks the strap under my chin like I don’t know how to do that.
I take advantage of the situation and ask the number one question that nags me. “Why do you hide your face?”
“Why do you care?” he tightens the strap.
“I’m just asking.”
“Where is the fun in revealing everything?”
“I get it, everyone’s like a little mystery but what if I want to kiss you?” I say and it stops his movements as he sucks in a breath. “Hypothetically.”
The wickedness forms on my lips. Gotcha. Too bad he can’t see it but I’m sure he can sense the shift in the energy around us.
“You shouldn’t,” he responds roughly.
“Why not?”
“If you kiss me, you will never get enough.”
“You’re usually this full of yourself?”
Taping on each side of my helmet, he pulls me by the strap until our helmets meet. “Only in good company.”
I swallow hard, my body heats up involuntarily as he lets go.
Excitement flares in his eyes and transfers to his body as he dances with the bikers surrounding us. Loud music blasts The Garage as more bikes and cars arrive.
I don’t want him to do something he doesn’t feel like doing, let alone be an appendix in his fun ride.
“You sure you want me to come? I know the guys like to do some stunts on the road. A backpack will prevent that.” I look away, to the table where Lenny sits—immersed in a conversation with some other bikers, laughing her ass off.
I never had a best friend. Lenny seems like a special kind of girl. Welcoming, friendly, and caring. We never got to spend quality time with each other when they visited but I hope we will this summer.
“Yeah, I want you to come,” Meadow clarifies, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”
“Okay.”
“Have you ever raced against someone?” he leans against his bike, crossing his hands over his chest as he lets his body fall into a natural position.
“No, not really, just for fun.”
A sweet chuckle permeates the warm wind, coming out of his lips. “Who taught you how to wheelie?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I eye him.
He nods, his green eyes shimmering under the late rays of light, “Willing to sell a kidney if you’d tell me, I heard they’re doing well on the black market.”
“With your smoking habits, they will pay you to keep it.” I put my palm above my opened visor to block the sun while I watch a few bikers wheelie in the distance. I’m cheering inside, grinning as another pops a wheel in the air. Nice!
“It’s not my lungs.”
“A-ha, it probably affects everything.”
“Hop on, Wilder.” His patience is running thin as he says those words.
This is my first time on a wild beast and my lady bits raving in joy. I lean against him for support and he immediately offers me his hand as I climb behind him.
“The helmets have speakers so you can talk to me,” he plugs his cardo into his helmet and connects them.
“Got it.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” His voice is loaded with anticipation and it’s the only bargaining chip I have against him.
I heave a sigh. “I’ll keep it a mystery like you keep your identity.”
“Fair enough. I like mysteries.”
With that, the bike comes to life and Meadow gives a few resounding revs to the pumped audience around us before we take off.
With one hand wrapped around his tight, warm body, I let the other trail over the red fairings.
“This bike is breathtaking,” I whisper.
“She is.” Meadow suddenly replies, and for a moment, I completely forget he can hear me.
“There you are,” Dean’s voice booms inside my helmet. “I was starting to think you bailed this year, considering…”
“Nah, I’m good.” Meadow cuts him mid-sentence. “Just picked up our new passenger.” He motions backward.
“Glad you joined, Blakely, we’re going with a few groups and we’ll bring a cover for your helmet on the next stop,” Dean explains.
“Great!” I hold on to Meadow tightly while he moves past a few slower bikes, but remains fairly slow himself and I assume it’s because of me.
Midway his hand slips backward, kneading my thigh and it seems like a reflex because he quickly removes it—I’ll admit it felt nice for a brief second because something in me calms.
He clears his voice before he goes to speak, “This is our summer tradition, and we’ve been doing this for a few years now. We thought the kids would enjoy the costumes and the covers.” He slows the speed a bit more. “Some of these idiots wear full costumes of anything they can get their hands on,” he chuckles, “It’s fucking hot for this but they are local heroes.”
I giggle at that.
The road gets clear in our lane as Meadow creates little wobbles with the bike, swaying it sideways. The calmness soothes me. Yet, I’m also a biker and I know the next thing would be to speed away and play with the gears. As if I read his mind, he taps on the side of my thigh twice and I fasten my hands around his stomach.
“Woohoo,” I scream in my helmet. The speed of this bike is insane, my heart’s racing as he does it again, laughing at my reaction and joining me.
Our screams combined are hilarious and we can’t contain our laughter when we hear Dean yelling too.
Like floating on a cloud, no thoughts cross my mind. I let my hands roam a little, feeling his muscles and solid chest. The delicious vibrations running through me, humming against my pulsing clit.
After a few miles, we stop by the side of the road where families hang with their kids at a small park. The little ones immediately jump in excitement and run toward us as they notice the helmet cover on each biker .
“Can we take pictures?” One of the mothers asks.
“Sure.” Meadow is quick to confirm as he pulls onto the side of the road, dropping the kickstand down.
The kids form a line in front of us. “Say bunnies.” The mother instructs and they all chant in unison. “Thank you. You made their day.” She follows the trail of happy kids back to the park.
“Wait, we have gifts.” Dean pulls his backpack over the fuel tank, extracting Easter eggs, and distributes them to the kids one by one—their happy smiles fill my heart.
This family does so much for others it’s eye-opening.
“We fill them with candies,” Meadow explains to me. “Here.” He gives me a few to hand over.
“Have a great evening.” We wave at them and continue to the next stops along the road.
A biker with a full shark costume flies past us and Dean and Meadow glance at each other, singing the words of a song they put on.
Dean does the French part and Meadow the Spanish part. Meadow’s deep, raspy sound is kind of sexy and affects my body as I fix myself around him.
No! Snap out of it.
They are so goofy with each other like two siblings and the rest seem just as silly as they are.
Feeling more comfortable, I laugh with other riders by our sides, flipping them the bird when Meadow leaves them in our dust. They don’t take offense—in biker’s language, it’s equivalent to a greeting .
It’s fun and liberating out here and I think I’m starting to understand why this is Dad’s favorite place. As simple as it may be, those people are what makes it special.
The calm skies are painted orange and yellow as the sun wanes.
There are many people on the road and in the streets who are friendly and have a great sense of humor. The wisdom is to check and see who they are because we never know. We can meet a lot of cool people when we give them a shot and interact with them.
Dad taught me that and I forgot it somewhere along the way. He will always be my hero and the man who walked me through every major and minor hurdle in my life.
I miss him so much. I wish he were here but I understand why he isn’t. Seeing everyone reminds him of the obstacles he has to face. I hope he will return here next year. This place always brought a huge smile to his face and now I finally get it because I have the same expression.
After two hours full of laughter on the road we get back. Pulling into the motel parking lot, He cuts the engine and waits for my short legs to reach the ground before he climbs off.
“You race?” I give him a shrug and a lopsided grin. “Your dad said something about it.”
He flicks the visor upward and remains expressionless, not giving anything away.
Taking my helmet off, I put it on the seat while I comb my fingers through my hair. “Did you ever crash?” I attempt to change the question in hopes he will give me something.
“I crashed once, gear defect. I was lucky, considering the speed I was at. I had close calls on more than one occasion.” He waves to his parents from afar.
Milo gives carrots to the kids who roam around on behalf of the bunnies.
“Your guardian angel kept you safe?” I walk next to him.
A moment passes.
“My mom says I’m the luckiest son of a bitch she knows.” He chuckles and continues, “She used to come and give me her hand or a hug before I joined race competitions at The Garage . I guess, it’s her way of supporting me and letting me know she’s always there, watching me and making sure I’ll come back in one piece.”
That’s beautiful.
Is it weird that I’m jealous?
I know you’re always around me, Mom, and I have felt you deeper since I stepped foot here. I know we don’t know each other, but I love you.
“The last two years they completely transformed this site.” He points around us.
In front of us, a kid comes running, waving his little hands toward the bunny cover. “It’s not Easter.” The boy’s small voice declares.
Meadow pulls an egg from the bag Dean left for him and bends to hand it to him, “I won’t tell if you don’t, deal?”
A wide smile crosses his face. “Deal,” he cheerfully runs back to his parents with the surprise in his hand .
We almost reach Meadow’s family outside the store. His long legs stride slowly to keep up with my short ones.
“I was adopted by the Reyes family.” He points to Milo and Donna. “Whoever left me in front of their store, left me with no information, no last name, so they gave me theirs. I’m lucky to have them.”
My eyes slowly dart to the side where he walks.
I’m speechless.
I did not expect him to share this with me out of the blue like that.
Reyes? Like, Bow Reyes…?
Could they be related? Or maybe…
“Hello, son, a pleasure to be in your presence,” Milo says and rewards me with a carrot.
Meadow chuckles sheepishly and taps on Milo’s shoulder, “Hey, Dad.” He gives me a side glance and I giggle.
“Did you have fun, Blakely?” Donna asks as she wraps her arm around my shoulder and tucks me to her side.
I can’t help but smile and my heart explodes with happiness, “I did.”
We gather around, all holding a carrot in hand. “Happy birthday, Dean.”
He smiles and laughs, holding his wife’s hand and kissing her knuckles. “Thank you, guys. It will be perfect once my daughter is born.”