Chapter Two
~Ryker~
The cool wind whips across my body as I ride through the desert like landscape just outside Amarillo, Texas.
The motel I stayed in last night left a lot to be desired and the town didn’t have anything that really called at me to stay there, so I hopped on my bike this afternoon and headed off to the next town.
The engine of my Harley motorcycle revs as I kick it into a higher gear, eager to put some distance between myself and my last failed attempt at finding a home.
This cross country trip is starting to seem like the worst idea I ever had.
The last twenty years of my life have been dictated by the Marine Corps, so a little spontaneity seemed like the right idea.
With no job lined up post-military and no home to go back to, I figured why not?
The reason why not has become more apparent with every town I visit. My bike has taken me up and down the west coast and through the southwest, but nothing in any of those places has beckoned me to stay or seemed like a place to call home like I had hoped it would.
Missouri isn’t an option despite my parents still living there in the small two bedroom house I grew up in.
That place was never a home to me, only a space filled with memories of constant fighting and alcohol abuse.
The minute I turned eighteen, I enlisted in the Marine Corps and haven’t looked back.
After doing my time, working hard to save up and earn a pension so that I could retire from duty and move onto something else, I finally retired. What that something else is, I have no idea.
During my time in the corps, my unit and I worked in security forces, training other militaries or providing protection to embassy members, things like that.
It was a high risk job, but the reward was knowing that we were protecting others.
The hazard pay wasn’t too bad either, hence my ability to ride around the country, jobless, aimless and already discouraged that I’ll never find what I’m looking for.
The roar of my engine helps drown out my despondent thoughts a little, but not entirely.
I had high hopes that one of the towns I’ve stopped in over the last few months would have provided me with some clue as to how I was supposed to spend my time now that my service to the country was over, but so far, no such luck.
There hasn’t been one town that seemed like a place I might want to settle down in, maybe think about starting a family. That last thought has me snorting a bit. The only real family I have ever known was the one I left behind in the Marine Corps.
The rag tag group of rough and tough guys who did nothing but bark orders at one another and or give each other shit for their mistakes is hardly the blueprint for the ideal family, but no matter what, we always had each other’s backs and that’s all that mattered.
I miss it, and them, but I was done being told what to do and where to be all the time, so I got out.
My contact with my old unit has been more sporadic since my retirement, but I still make time to call every chance I get and always accept when one of my guys reaches out.
A few of the other fellas were thinking about getting out shortly after I did, but I think hearing me bitching about having nothing to do and no one to talk to has them rethinking their plans, which is too bad.
It would be nice to have someone to hang out with.
The towns I’ve been to have provided little more than the single serving friends you have while you grab a drink at the bar.
None of the women in the towns have interested me either.
It’s been a long damn time since I’ve been with a woman, almost as long as I’ve been in the military, so you’d think I’d be jumping at the chance to be with anyone.
It’s not like I haven’t had offers, it’s just that I don’t want to bother with a meaningless hook-up. At this point in my life, I want something more than that. I want forever.
Forever might be a tall order for some women, but I’m willing to wait it out until I find the one who’s perfect for me.
Someone feisty and not afraid to speak her mind.
I can be a forceful son of a bitch, so I need someone who can put me in my place every now and then.
A woman with plenty of curves would be nice too.
At six foot five and two hundred and thirty pounds of pure muscle, I need a woman that a big man like me can grab onto and not worry about breaking, a woman with wide hips, thick thighs, and an ass big enough for my meaty palms to grab onto while I drive into her would be ideal.
Just thinking of my dream girl has me thickening in my pants, so I try and turn my mind to something a little less arousing.
Seeing my gas gage looking a little on the low side does the trick, so I pull into the nearest gas station to fill up my tank.
After getting the pump going, I turn to head over to the restroom when my phone rings.
No one calls me other than my old unit, so I answer immediately, hoping that none of them are in trouble.
“What’s going on Phoenix?” I ask to my second in command, Lincoln “Phoenix” Merrick. His call sign is the Phoenix because no matter what happens to him, he’s never down for long and always rises from the ashes.
A chuckle over the other end of the line eases my tension.
“You can relax, Skipper,” he says, using my own call sign.
I’ve never loved it, but everyone knows the more you complain about your call sign, the worse it gets, so I accepted the moniker without putting up too much of a stink.
“We’re all good. Just missing our commander and bored as hell with this new assignment . ”
I don’t bother to ask for details because I know he can’t give them. “Well, I know all about being bored,” I say, scratching at the stubble on my face. After so many years of having to keep a clean face, I don’t love the feel of my beard coming in.
“Road trip not turning out like you’d hoped?” He asks. Phoenix knows all about my plans to find “my thing” after the military and how poorly it’s gone so far.
“Not really, no.” My boots kick at the gravel on the ground and I sigh at the sun as it heads towards the horizon. “I thought for sure I would have found a place I felt at least a bit comfortable in, but nothing doing so far.”
Phoenix grunts. “Are you getting laid at least? The rest of us are living vicariously through you, so don’t let us down.”
A chuckle escapes my mouth and it feels good to smile. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,” I lie to him. There’s nothing to tell.
“So that’s a big fat no,” he grumbles. “Come on man. You’ve got to live a little for the rest of us. You know how hard it is to meet up with a woman while you’re on assignment.”
Putting the gas hose back in its cradle, I nod knowing full well Phoenix can’t see me. “Yea, I remember.”
“Well, if you happen to stumble upon a town with some lovely ladies looking to get with some gruff assholes, you let us know okay?” He asks. There’s some mumbling on his end and I hear a sigh come over the line. “Look, Skip. I gotta go. Ride safe.”
“Stay safe yourself, and pass that on to the rest of the guys too.” Not being able to be there to help protect what little family I’ve known feels wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have retired so hastily.
“Will do. Talk later.” Phoenix ends the call, not even waiting for a goodbye. It doesn’t bother me. When you work as closely as we have over so many years, you develop a kind of shorthand and know that not every conversation needs a formal sign off.
After a quick trip to the restroom, I’m back on the road heading east. Another two hours later, my stomach is growling and I decide that now is as good a time as any to stop for some dinner.
I’m in Oklahoma and near the base of some mountain I don’t know the name of when I see a sign for a town called Juniper Hollow.
As I steer off the highway, I make my way down the main drag, taking in the run down look of the town as I ride. The place definitely has the feel of having been forgotten by time. The siding on the buildings is peeling and the houses look damn near ready to be condemned.
I’m not one to scare easy, but this town looks even a little rough for my tastes. My stomach growling again reminds me that beggars can’t be choosers, and I pull into the parking lot of one of the few places around here that actually looks occupied by people.
As I park my bike and pull off my helmet, I take a look at the building in front of me.
Wild West is the name of the establishment that looks wilder than the name indicates.
The door looks like it’s practically falling off its hinges and the painted bricks look faded, some even looking busted up from a run in of some kind.
It’s a good thing I’m military trained and haven’t missed a workout since retiring because it looks like it might come in handy in a place like this.
Careful not to pull the door too hard so that it falls off, I head inside and take a look around the room.
The atmosphere is smoky despite there not being a single lit cigarette in the joint.
The walls are black, the floor is bit sticky, and the patrons look about as friendly as a pit full of rattlesnakes.
Even with all that going on, I make my way to a battered leather stool at the bar and get ready to order.
The room is warm, so I shuck my riding jacket and place it on the stool next to me.
After a quick glance at the limited menu, I order a cheeseburger with fries and a cold beer from the disgruntled looking bartender.
The man looks older than dirt but is built like a brick shithouse, so I don’t give him any trouble.
I just want to eat a meal and get back on the road.
Clearly, I won’t be finding the home I’m looking for in a place like this.
My fingers tap on the bar as I wait for my meal and nurse my beer.
Just as the bartender places my platter of food on the bar, the door swings open and bangs loudly against the wall.
The noise draws my attention over, and the sight before me has my eyes widening and my cock stirring to life once more.
Standing in the doorway is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
Her fiery red curls drape against the porcelain skin of her chest, and what a chest it is.
The woman’s ample bosom is on display for the whole room in her low cut, backless tank, and I long to cover her up with my motorcycle jacket so that no one else can see what’s mine.
Mine? I think to myself for a moment before deciding, yes, this woman is mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
“Sorry about that,” she says, her tone slightly defiant as she steps more into the room, her short skirt showing off thick thighs I want to bury my face in and her hips swaying in a way that has me curling my hands into fists to stop myself from reaching out and grabbing them, pulling her into me so that she can feel just how hard and ready for her I am already.
I don’t even know this woman’s name and she is already getting more of a reaction from me than anyone ever in my whole life.
Thank god I stopped in this little pit of a town so that I could finally meet my one and only.
Now, all I have to do is introduce myself, then we can start on our happily ever after.