24. Melody
MELODY
Riptide is the one who meets me when the meeting is over.
He’s leaning against the side of the garage talking to a few other men.
He smiles when he sees me and breaks away from the group.
I wish I could have him smiling at me like that all the time, since it travels right down to my belly to settle there as a warm, fuzzy feeling.
“Have a good time?” he asks.
“Yeah, it was nice. They’re really good people. Is Rebel busy?”
“He and Mad Dog had to go help King with…” He trails off. “Fuck, you’d think I would’ve caught it. Swear they said it. Anyway, I’m on bodyguard duty for the moment.”
I laugh. “Or are you just trying to steal me away for yourself?”
“You already know that we don’t mind sharing,” he whispers, nipping at my ear.
“Okay. So what’s the plan then? How are you planning to babysit me?”
With a grin, he steps closer and puts a big hand on the small of my back to guide me. “I can’t tell if that’s a request for something kinky, or just an innocent joke.”
“Aren’t I supposed to be the babysitter in those kinds of things? You would have to be my teacher. Oh! Or maybe the rich single father who has to hire me to take care of your adorable twins.”
Riptide blinks at me. “That was very specific. I can’t tell if I’m intrigued or concerned.”
“Then it was definitely an innocent joke.” I nudge him in the side.
“Nah, I’m definitely holding onto that for later. Right now, though, I was wondering if you wanted to go for a ride? We have to stick close to the compound, but I thought it might make you feel a little less like a hostage if you could see outside the walls.”
“I am a hostage.”
“‘Involuntary guest’ sounds better. I grabbed the jacket and helmet you borrowed from Emily to ride to your house. If you’re up for it, that is.”
I nod. “So long as I’m not going to get in trouble. I don’t want anyone to think I’m trying to seduce you into breaking me out.”
“Pretty sure I can catch you if you try to run. Maybe you should try. I like the idea of getting on top of you and pinning you down,” he says with a laugh. “And no, I cleared it ahead of time.”
“You’d never catch me,” I tease, but I slip on the jacket and take the helmet from him. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere special. The beauty of a motorcycle is that riding can be the whole point. It’s not like a car where you’re locked in a moving box. On the bike, we’re still part of everything.”
“Okay, show me.”
It’s a nice day for a ride. Warm, but not too warm.
A few clouds, but mostly clear blue sky.
I’d never tell the others, but I think Riptide’s bike is my favorite of the three.
It’s a rich ocean blue with frothy waves painted on the sides.
It’s easy to miss, but on the right side, there’s a little guy in the water with his arms up, and a little speech bubble where he yells, “Help!” I dare anyone to tell him that it’s silly.
Riptide throws his leg over the bike, then pats the seat behind him. “Make sure you cling real tight, okay? I like being between your legs.”
“I’m sure you do.” I wrap my arms around his broad chest and scootch up as close as I can, but there’s only so much room to maneuver on the back of a motorcycle anyway. Still, just like he likes being between my legs, I like him being there. It works out well.
He salutes the two guys watching the gate as we ride by, and I risk doing the same before I quickly have my arms around him again. It’s not my first rodeo, but I’m not confident enough of a passenger to let go for long either.
As soon as we’re clear of the gate, he cuts hard to the right and then we’re zooming through the neighborhood. It seems fast to me, but I trust he knows what he’s doing and where he’s going.
Just like he said, we don’t go far, but the worn down neighborhoods near the compound—Southside, if I understood Emily correctly—give way to newer buildings and offices that look more modern.
A wide river blocks our progress until we cross a lifting bridge that starts to ding almost as soon as we’re on the other side.
I tap Riptide on the shoulder to get him to stop.
He pulls over right away. “You okay, babe?”
“Yeah, I just want to watch. I’ve never seen one for real.” I look eagerly over my shoulder to watch it rise behind us.
“Hang on, I’ll get you a better view.” He starts up again, pulling into a parking lot next to the river and then taking us all the way to the edge where there’s a little triangular park by the water.
It seems really out of place, like they built the bridge and the parking lot, but didn’t know what to do with the little patch of grass, so they put up a sign and named it.
We climb off the bike and he pulls me with him down to a bench behind a couple of trees that give us shade. I can see everything from here.
After the two halves of the bridge pull away from each other with a squeaky grind, a tall-masted sailboat comes through, followed by a couple of smaller ones. Rich people toys, I guess. Lake City does in fact have a lake, but out where I grew up, it’s mostly dirt and scrub.
“All that you hoped for?” Riptide asks in a teasing tone, but he’s not being mean.
“Just… new. Different. Are all the bridges like this one?”
He shakes his head. “Most of the bridges are built high enough so that the sailboats can pass underneath and traffic isn’t interrupted, but this is one of the oldest bridges in the city. It was built before there were so many cars. It’s got a bit of old-timey charm, though.”
The inside of the helmet is getting warm when we’re not moving, so I unbuckle it and pull it off. “You know a lot about this.”
“Anyone who lives around here knows this bridge. You’re not a real local until you get caught waiting both ways in one day. It’s kind of a pain in the ass, but it’s cool. I like the water, always have.” He shrugs it off.
“Yeah? Did your family have a boat like that?” I point at the sailboat drifting through.
“We had a boat, but it wasn’t anything like that. It was a shitty little cabin cruiser, and we lived on it full time.”
“Really? That sounds so cool!”
“There are parts that are nice. When you’re out on the water and the weather’s like this, it’s fucking beautiful. But most of the time it’s just dirty, cramped, and something is always damp.” He flashes a cocky smile. “I’m not just better looking than those other two. I’m also a fucking pirate.”
“Pirate. Sure. Yar harr harr.”
His gaze drifts down the river, focused on something I don’t think we can see.
“My father ran drugs for the cartels. He didn’t sell personally, but he’d take shipments and deliver them along the coast. Stellar fucking role model, obviously.
I know all the best spots to land up and down the coast out there.
I’ve had to smuggle bags of cocaine under my fucking clothes, because they almost never search the kid. ”
“Ran? He doesn’t do it anymore?”
“He got caught when I was sixteen. I spent a year and a half in juvie before I aged out. It sucked, but it’s the only reason I managed to graduate high school. He was still in jail last I knew.”
“Do you ever visit?”
He shakes his head, like he’s trying to dislodge the memory. “To say what? Thanks for doing your best to fuck up my life? Sorry, this was supposed to be fun.”
I lean into his side, snuggling under his arm until he’s forced to put it over my shoulders.
“I didn’t exactly grow up with a father of the year either.
He didn’t train me to be a drug mule, I’ll give him that much, but he was in jail for my whole third grade year, and again for a couple years when I was in middle school.
I remember visiting him once, but that’s it.
I only really knew about it because the other kids’ parents would talk, and then the kids would make fun of me. ”
“That’s shitty.” He covers my hand with his.
“Is it funny that it never really bothered me? Mom and Dad acted like it was just a thing that happened sometimes. When you grow up with it, it feels normal.”
Riptide nods. “Were you close to your mom?”
I consider the question. “Yes and no. It was her and me against the world for my whole life, but she wasn’t a mom mom if that makes sense.
Now that I’m a little older, I can see how she loved me, but probably just wanted to be Dad’s old lady.
Being a parent all the time was exhausting for her.
She lived for his visits. I think both of my parents love, or loved, me in their own way, but it wasn’t the warmest home to grow up in.
I had a lot of time on my own. What happened to the boat? ”
Riptide mouths ‘boom’, and mimes an explosion with his hands. “The cops impounded it, but one of the people Dad worked for must’ve rigged it to blow. Made the news even. I was fucking glad.”
The boats glide away from us, the big sailboat in front and the little ones still behind it, like a swan with its babies. The bridge squeaks and grinds again as it starts to lower.
“If there’s one good thing that man taught me, it’s that family’s earned, and he never managed to do that with me.
So I couldn’t fucking care less about how he’s doing, as long as he doesn’t come for me.
” Riptide leans back onto the bench, tilting his head so he’s looking up into the tree. He lets out a tired exhale.
I climb up into his lap, straddling him and resting my hands on his broad pecs. He tilts his head back so he can see me, looking curious. “What'cha up to?”
“Cheering you back up.” I have to get up on my knees and stretch, but I plant a brief kiss on his lips. “Inducting you into the shitty dads club. Membership: you, and me.”
He laughs at that, then pulls me close for another kiss. This one is deeper and a little more urgent, enough so that I gasp when we break apart.
“If I’d known all it took was a lifting bridge to turn you on, I woulda brought you to one earlier,” he teases.
“Why? Has it been that hard to turn me on?”
He looks away just for a moment, before finding me again. “You know you’re playing with fire, right? Sitting on top of me like that, kissing me like that.”
“Here? In public?” I glance around us. The bridge is high enough above us that unless someone’s physically standing on it and looking down, they probably wouldn’t see us.
Definitely not the cars driving by. The tree blocks the view from the parking lot, and we’re a little down a hill anyway.
For being in the middle of the city, it’s strangely private, even if it’s fully public.
“Anywhere, if it’s with you, babe.” He grins, his hands exploring my hips, finding that gap between my shirt and jeans and teasing the exposed skin.
It’s like these guys know all my buttons already, or maybe it’s just that I know what it feels like when they get their hands on me, because I’m heating up at his slightest touch.
Maybe it’s the fact that I can feel him growing hard below me. That’s possible too. I take a last look around to make sure we’re alone, then press myself against him. “Then take me here. Let’s make your thinking spot a happy one.”
“Fuck yeah,” he whispers, then hooks his hand behind my head to pull me into another kiss.