This is the seventh (and I hope the last) installment of the Palace series.
It starts just after Shon and Deck leave the palace (the second time)....
- - 1 - -
Bodie lit a cigarette and reached for the ignition switch.
His hand stopped moving a few inches from the key ring. He pushed, and it stayed frozen where it was. His fingers wouldn't bend, either. The driving glove just hung there.
After a second, he parked the cigarette between his teeth and reached for the keys with his left hand. It was awkward.
And it didn't work any better. Both hands froze in place.
"Uh... Amy?"
A voice giggled. "Hi, handsome."
He sighed.
"Well, that's not the reaction I was hoping for," she said. His hands drifted over to the steering wheel and took loose grips.
"It's... See, uh, thing is, I've got this date on Friday night -"
"You stud. Gonna have to cancel -"
"C'mon!" he barked. "I've been workin' on her for weeks."
"Is she 'the one'? Huh?"
Bodie started to fidget. "She could be -"
Fingers touched his pecs. He looked, out of reflex, but he couldn't see 'em.
"Hmmmm?"
He stifled a chuckle. "I - hell, I don't know. Probably not."
"Uh-huh." The fingers rubbed slowly, through his t-shirt.
He made a strained little noise, very quietly. "I bought the tickets already."
"I'll buy 'em off you."
"Amuseur -"
"Double what you paid for 'em. Triple."
That made him stop and think. Not that he needed the money - last year Amy had arranged it, somehow, so he won a contest. A thousand bucks a week... for twenty years.
"Really wanted to hear 'em, though -"
She sighed... and kept massaging. His head went back, and a grin crept over his face. More of a leer, actually. "Is this their farewell tour?"
"Well... no."
"Too bad, then." The fingers pulled off.
He blinked, and lifted his head. His hands could move, so he took a drag and flicked ash out the window. "Where to?"
"Hysteria."
"Great," he said, turning the engine over.
"You're not fooling me, Bodie old pal. You can't get enough hysteria."
"So you keep telling me. If you don't tell me where to drive, I'm just gonna go eat."
"Okay. Make it 'to go'."
He frowned.
"You are such a wench," he said, with his mouth full of fries.
"Wench?" she laughed. "Where'd you get that one?"
"That calendar." He swallowed. "Word-a-day calendar you got me."
"You're kidding. Wench was on there?" He nodded. The guy couldn't pull off a lie if his life depended on it. "Was it the word for today?"
Bodie shook his head. "Couple weeks ago. Today, it was... uh... 'divert'."
"Alright, then. I'm going to divert ya today. Damn right I am."
He changed lanes. "I'd say you already did."
Amy started massaging his shoulders. He tensed up at first, expecting the hands to slide under... but when they didn't, he relaxed.
"Mmmmm."
"You like?"
He acted all embarrassed, to get caught making a happy sound. But she knew him better than that. It was an invitation. Go for it, you magical wench. "Definitely. I like..."
"Did you get that passport? Like I told you to?"
That opened his eyes. "You know I did. It, uh, moved. Into my bedroom. I figured you did it."
"Me?" Way too innocent, the way she said it.
He stuck more fries in his mouth, starting to blush. Such an easy mark. Of course she moved it...
"Turn right. No - the gas station."
"I have, like, three bucks on me," he warned.
"Silly boy. I know. Check again - in your jacket. Inside pocket."
He reached in, where his smokes were - and the glove changed his course suddenly, to check the other side.
He found... paper. Pulled out a bunch of twenties.
"You're just so good to me," he said, pulling up to a gas pump.
"Oh. Sassy. I'll get you for that." She messed up his hair. "Carton of smokes, some munchies. And beer." The I.D. she'd given him have never caused anyone to look twice. He was twenty, but it said he was twenty-three. Due to the habits he had, ever since she hooked with up him, Bodie could probably say he was thirty and get away with it sometimes.
"Road trip?" he said, more than a little worried.
"Oh, yeah. We're goin' on a drive."
"Can I... call Candy first?"
There was a pause. "Candy? You're all worked up over a woman named Candy?"
"C'mon, just lemme call her," he persisted. "If I just stand her up, she'll never go out with me again."
"You mean, later."
"Yeah -"
"When I let you go."
He nodded.
"Much... later."
"Not too scary, there," he finally said.
"That's a hint, big guy. Much, much, much la-"
"Got it," he interrupted. "Damn... Anyway, uh, just lemme call her machine. Two minutes."
Amy sighed. "Okay. If you promise - no more whining."
"Okay."
"About her, or the concert. Not a word."
"Okay."
Gassed up, with his new purchases in the back seat, he walked over to the phone.
"Don't mess with me," he said quietly.
"You still don't get it, do you? After all this time -"
"I mean, right now. Just let me leave a message for her. Like a normal guy."
"Such a ladies' man..."
He picked up the receiver, and fished for some quarters. "I mean it, Amuseur. Just keep your hands to yourself for, like, thirty seconds. All of your hands -"
"I don't know," she said, fighting not to giggle at him. "I can make so many hands."
"If you tickle me, and make me sound like I'm happy, about this... uh, I'm gonna get really pissed off." Bodie finished punching the numbers in, looked at his gloves and rubbed 'em on his jeans.
"Oooo-ooo." His face got as stern as it could. "I'm so scared..."
But she backed off - until he hung up the receiver. Then two hands grabbed him, right behind the knees. He buckled nicely, and started to whine.
"I love your knees," she said.
"No shit," he growled, gritting his teeth. "You mind?"
"Not until you smoke." That got his hands in motion. "I think I showed amazing restraint, there. Not touching you until your fuckin' call was over."
He snapped his lighter shut and took another drag. The fingers let go of him.
"I'm in a parking lot, Amy. Anybody sees me jump like that, they're gonna think I'm a head case."
"Yeah, but y-"
"I look weak, I'll be nuthin' but a target," he snapped, interrupting her. He stalked back to his car.
"You still think of yourself as that scrawny little fifteen-year-old I caught. Don't you?"
He didn't say anything, and unlocked the door. When he landed on the seat, she froze his hands again.
"Bodie. Look in the mirror."
Rolling his eyes, he did as he was told.
"You're a total stud now. A hard case."
"Thanks to you," he said.
"Thanks... to me. I think you need some more... persuading. Of what a thoroughly intimidating character you are."
"Bullshit." But he was buying it. And why not? She'd made it come true. He looked exactly the way she wanted him to look. Nobody fucked with Bodie.
"Get on the freeway, badass," she chuckled. "East. Got some friends I want you to meet."
He smoked, and didn't say anything.
- - 2 - -
After a few minutes, he turned on the radio.
Lighting one cigarette off another, he thought for awhile. That was normal, for him. If she gave him time to think, he'd relax and get into the right mood. She suspected he was trying to come up with a way to escape from her. Even though he'd never succeeded before... Apparently he just had to run through the same old plans he'd daydreamed about. Every time. Jump out of the car, or maybe swerve into the side of a state trooper's car. The ideas went downhill from there. Kill the engine and toss the keys out the window... Those were the ones she'd guessed before, and he'd get angry - so she took that as proof. The little weasel probably sat around the house, trying to think up ways to slip out of her clutches.
Every time she made him go somewhere, if he was conscious, the first thing he wanted to do was be quiet and think. Going over his options. As if he had any...
Amy gave him time to realize it all over again. No way out. And then he'd be up for some real fun. Interested.
When he sighed real hard, about forty miles away from home, she started to massage his shoulders again.
He got so relaxed that she felt it was necessary to do the driving herself. His gloves slid off the steering wheel. That woke him up a little.
"Beer," he said. Smirking.
"Get it yourself."
"Bring me a beer, woman."
She had to laugh at that. "Listen to this. You're doomed."
"No, I'm not. I hear I'm an pretty intimidating guy."
In the back seat, the twelve-pack started tearing open. "Not to me. Prisoner." A can started floating up. His right hand went back and caught it, before he could even reach for it himself.
"Thank you."
"And did you actually call me 'woman'? What kind of crack is that?"
"Compliment," he said, after a couple swallows.
"Really."
"Uh-huh."
"Not just trying to flatter me." He made a surprised gesture. Me? Do that? C'mon. "You wouldn't be getting confused, now, would ya? Stoner?"
"Not me."
"You do remember the difference between me and... Candy?"
He got a cigarette out. "Shit. Candy wouldn't kidnap me. Tickle me for weeks at a time."
"Weeks?"
Bodie closed his eyes. "Uh... months?"
"That's right," she said. "That's my job."
They turned off the interstate and went north.
"Don't you just love Nevada?" Amy said happily.
"Uh -"
"We've been on this highway for ten miles, and we've only seen one car."
He looked suspicious... as well he should.
"Nobody around," she murmured.
His hands quit working - or rather, the gloves locked 'em up again. "Amy -"
"And time to kill..."
"Oh, shit."
His hands came to rest on top of his thighs. Palms up. If he could have lifted his fingers a little, Bodie would have been able to grab the bottom of the steering wheel.
Amuseur's hands, impossibly capable and strong, got hold of his left boot.
"Here we go," he said irritably.
"Maybe... we'll just pull over for awhile."
"I, uh -"
She grabbed his right boot, and slid it back. The car started to slow down. "Or not. Just keep on rollin'. You think?"
The gas pedal moved. He saw that, and started to squirm. "Amy -"
"Yeah," she said, punching the gas. She kept it around eighty.
"You're gonna get me a ticket," he said. "Or... locked up. Indecent exposure."
"I haven't taken anything off yet!"
"Yet. Uh-huh."
"Hmmmm," she said thoughtfully. "The state police pull ya over. You're alone, apparently. Panting for breath, soaked in sweat..."
"Cloth seats," he interrupted.
That made her pause. "What?"
"Don't... get busy. In here," he said, trying hard to kick. Or move his hands. "It'll smell like, uh, piss."
"So?"
"In the seats, Amy. I'll never get the smells out."
She chuckled, and eased his boots off. "That's... not gonna matter, Bodie."
Confusion was all over his face, as he tried to figure that one out. His cigarettes slid out of his jacket.
"How 'bout I just stake you out on the ground, then? Lost in the desert, tied down real nice?"
"Been there."
"But wasn't it fun?"
I don't know how you think up shit like that," he grumbled, watching his Zippo fire up.
A while later, when only half of the twelve-pack remained...
"G-gotta pee," he groaned.
"Again?" Amy said playfully.
"Yeah."
She pulled over, and let go of his feet.
"Whooo," he sighed. His relief was obvious. The foot massage was not all that soothing, even through his socks. It wasn't supposed to be.
She could break out the major tickling action at any moment. He knew it all too well, and that's what he'd been fearing for the last ten cigarettes...
His gloves reached down and pulled his boots back on. "Hurry it up, then..."
"Right." He opened the door. Two hands wrapped around each of his triceps. As usual, when he was... possibly motivated to run off, she made it clear that he wasn't going to get the chance.
He unbuttoned, and watered the hard-tack. Amy thought about offering to help him, with his aim, but she was pretty certain what the response would be.
Bodie put himself away, and stood there. Leisurely getting another smoke out. Fuckin' with you back, he thought. The idea made him happy. Her hands didn't even squeeze his arms, or pull on 'em. After a couple drags, he ambled back over and got in.
"Better?"
"Uh-huh," he said.
As soon as the door closed, she peeled out again. Fishtailing a little. He rocked around, taking a long drag. Eyes wide open.
Amy pulled one boot off, and then the other...
"What a happy guy."
He chuckled helplessly. It had been about ten miles since he'd been able to shake his head, much less flail around...
"Listen to this bastard," Amy said, teasing the fuck out of him. "He's just losin' it."
Fingers were slowly digging into a half-dozen places, all through his clothes. No bare-skin contact yet. He was still behind the wheel, and she had his head propped up to look like he was doing the driving. His t-shirt and jeans were fairly covered in ash.
"Badass gettin' tickled," she told him. "I'm going to make you crazy. Over the edge."
He kept snickering.
"Oh, yeah. And you know why... don't you, Bo-deeee? Huh? Because... you love it." He didn't react. Old news. "More than anyone I've ever gotten hold of. You got it so bad..."
She slowed most of the fingers down, and put a cigarette up to his lips.
Fingers poked him in the armpits. Kept wiggling, until he laughed himself awake.
"Wha?"
"Wake up, sexy. You gotta get some gas."
"Oh..." He yawned real big, and managed to light a smoke. "Where the fuck are we?"
"Carp," she laughed.
"Carp?"
"Carp, Nevada."
"Bullshit." He had to chuckle at that. "Carp..."
"You getcha some coffee."
"I don't wan't... Oh."
She patted him on the shoulder. "That's right. Gotta make it look good."
"Like I don't have an invisible... chauffeur," he finally said.
"Uh-huh. Also... You'd better camp out, in the can."
"What?" He figured it out. "I don't have to go. Could piss again, though."
"Humor me."
"Don't I always?"
"C'mon, smartass," she said, as he pulled up. "Don't give me a reason to go turbo on you."
"Since when have you needed a reason?"
"Ooooooo. Bodie..."
"You sure you don't want this?" The coffee was hovering over his arms.
"Yeah..."
The window slid down, and the cup flew out.
"That's littering," he said, looking in the rear-view mirror.
"So sue me."
"Ain't you they'll get. Amuseur the Invisible. It's like a five-hundred dollar ticket for me."
"Just tell 'em I did it."
He laughed. "Yeah. Okay. Then I get a free psych evaluation."
"No need," she shot back, fairly smug. "I'll do the evaluating, 'round here."
"The fuck you say."
"You're on thin ice, buddy. Real thin ice."
"Ooooooh," he grinned. "I'm so scared. Wench."
She loved it when he was cocky... "It's your funeral. Now I'm gonna have to come up with new, extreme ways to punish you."
"Instead of the same old extreme ways."
"Well... y-yeah."
"As if you weren't gonna punish me anyway." He shook his head, and took another drag.
After a few more cigarettes, Amy told him to close his eyes. She massaged his neck and his arms lovingly. It was an old cue...
He snored all the way to Utah.
- - 3 - -
When the temperature started rising, he started to sweat. Again.
Bodie kept thinking about getting his jacket off, but he never seemed to follow through with the thought and actually move. It was quiet. The car wasn't running, and he heard a few crickets, or grasshoppers, some bug like that...
Smoke. That sounded good. So he opened his eyes. Daylight. He groaned and sat up.
The car was in the middle of the fucking desert.
He did not smell good. And his jacket was stuck to him, because of the sweat. So he fumbled for his sunglasses, opened the car door and stood up. Lighting a cigarette came first, and then he peeled the buffalo-hide off. Much better...
"Amy?"
But she didn't answer. Head-games, likely as not. She'd just love for him to make a break for it. Bodie had fallen for that one before. A few times.
Now this was what they were talkin' about when they said "out in the middle of nowhere." He leaned against the hood and tried to wake up, in case she had an ambush planned. Not that it made any difference.
He took a few steps away from the car. She didn't pounce.
So he made water, and decided he was so thirsty that even the warm beer sounded good.
He was draining the second can - on his fourth smoke, leaning against the fender - when something jingled behind him.
A box was floating his way.
"Ain't you cool," Amuseur said, meaning it.
He gave the box a sour grin, and flipped it off casually. "Where have you been?"
"Scrounging up some breakfast for my favorite squeaky-toy."
He blinked. "No shit."
"No shit. You didn't notice?"
"Figured you were playin' with my head again."
"Bodie, you say the meanest things, sometimes -"
"So you just left me here? Not even tied up?"
"Well... for about twenty minutes." The box landed on the hood next to him, and started opening.
"Shit," he barked. "I could've been miles away -"
"Running? In those boots?"
"No. Driving -"
"What... Hey," he said, unwrapping a napkin. They were biscuit sandwiches, with eggs and sausage. Homemade. And they were still hot. He started scarfing 'em down.
"You like?"
"Crazy fuckers," he said wonderingly, after he'd swallowed. "Torture a guy all night, and bake biscuits for him the next day."
"Yeah, well. We spoil our pets."
"Got any water?"
"Open the other flap on the box, and find out for yourself."
"Alright."
"Now what I find interesting, here... is that you didn't even know the car keys were gone." He just kept chewing, obviously not getting it. "If you even thought about driving off, you didn't act on it. I've shown you how to hotwire a car, for that matter. Remember? But you stuck around -"
His eyes got bigger. "Aw, hell."
"As if you wanted to be here."
"I'm fuckin' domesticated," he complained. "I'm used to it all... You've broken my spirit."
"Hah."
"You have. I'm all weird now."
"I disagree, li'l biker buddy. You're just institutionalized."
His eyes narrowed. "I may not know what that means, but you can't be... comparing yourself to - a prison. A penitentary. Or is that some kind of a hint?"
"Eat your breakfast."
"Amy -"
"Eat it while it's hot."
- - 4 - -
She made him grab his jacket, and walk south a little ways. There was a big rock...
"Stand right here," Amy ordered. Bodie just shrugged.
Within a few seconds, a motor started humming. The face of the rock started to swing out.
"Gotta be... kidding," he said, mouth hanging open.
"Down we go."
He didn't move. "Is there anything I can... offer you, to call this off?"
"What?" She giggled. "Of course not. Man, you should see the look on your face."
"Have I... uh... been here before?"
"No comment," Amy said. "We're not getting a room, exactly."
"Is that supposed to reassure me?"
She sighed. "I have a surprise for you. And I'm not just taunting you. I guarantee you'll love what we do this afternoon. If you don't, I'll let you go home. Tonight."
"Hmmmm." That was an unusual thing to hear. "Gimme a hint."
"You drive me crazy. Do you know that? Good grief... What are you holding in your hand?" He looked at his jacket. "Why would you need that? What's it for?"
"Same thing... uh, my boots are for? Really for?"
"You got it. Now get in there."
He was pretty sure he was falling for a trap. She couldn't be talking about... what he was thinking. Then he walked down a wide slope of hard dirt -
Lights came on.
"Wow," he gasped. And he whistled.
There were bikes down there. At least a dozen. And they looked sweet.
Some were... fancier than others. But they were all Harleys. He walked from one to another, lost in a dream. The motors looked clean. A few of 'em looked like they belonged in a showroom, every inch perfect.
"Do I know my Bodie? Or what?"
He nodded. "Why are you... being so nice to me?"
She latched on to his right knee, but almost playful. "I want you to give me a ride."
"Hah," he said, staring at a shovelhead that was just immaculate. Dark blue paint. Apehangers, blue-dots, and all that chrome.
"Get your jacket on, smoke up... and pick one."
He looked around. "Are you serious?"
"Well - yeah."
"To keep?"
"You're a greedy son of a bitch," she said fondly.
"Oh. I, uh -"
"That's not out of the question. But let's start with teaching you how to ride it..."
She'd picked out a Sportster for him last year. Even made him enroll in a rider safety course - which was sorta embarrassing, with alll the tats he had. But everybody had to start somewhere.
He got his jacket on quickly, and took a couple drags. "Wow..."
"A suggestion."
"Shoot."
"I know you like the look of it, but - they're a lot more weight than you're used to pushing around. Regular handlebars would be a better idea."
"Oh." He frowned. "Okay..." He backed up, looking 'em over dreamily. "That one."
"An excellent choice," Amy said, impersonating a bad car saleswoman. "1978, 80-inch, FL... racing carb... Okay. Get on it."
She brought the keys over, and started it up.
"Ain't the guy gonna mind?" he yelled. "Y'know -"
"Never underestimate us," Amy said in his ear, very clearly. "We know the value of soundproofing. And I promise you, his ride is just about the last thing on his mind right now."
"Ouch -"
"I'm getting us to the road," she announced. "Take the grips, but I'm going to use your gloves for a bit."
"Helmet?" He looked back toward it, sitting on the seat.
"Don't worry about it," Amy said, as she shifted the bike into first. "I have friends in low places. Monitoring. A cop comes within twenty miles of us, we'll know." A small black box zipped over from the wall, as they rumbled up to the ramp. It looked like a pager, sorta. Bodie watched it snap on to the cuff of his left sleeve, and get yanked back and forth. "Good," she said. "You just relax. It's not far to the pavement..."
On the way up the ramp, the bike leaned way over to the left. Bodie tensed up, and she slugged him on the arm. Hard.
"You gotta stay loose."
"Aye, aye..."
She made him throttle down and brake, and when both tires were on the cracked roadway he took it out of gear. Serious rumbling - it felt like a lot more power than his Sporty. The bike wanted to get to it. Wide-open.
He barely realized Amy was telling him to get the goggles on, wipe that stupid grin off his face for a minute - and listen up...
"This isn't a joyride. I mean it. You've got to get used to where the center of gravity is. I'm going to ride a real tight shotgun, at first. Then... just another gorgeous passenger. If you relax, and trust me, you'll know how to handle yourself on a bigger bike."
Bodie nodded, eager to get on with it.
They tooled up and down the road. Slow turns. On the perfect straightaways, she let him nudge it up to ninety, then one hundred...
"Pull it back," she yelled in his ear. When the needle hit fifty, she patted his shoulder. "Okay. I've got you. Do you believe me?"
He nodded.
"Then jump. Jump off."
"Jump off?"
"Try to."
He thought that one over. "Which way?"
"Surprise me."
The road was going by awfully fast. No way, he thought... And then he started thinking about what she was gonna do to him if he didn't jump. Absolutely nuts -
She'd never let him down before. Besides, if he got all banged up, she wouldn't be able to tickle him. Not the way she liked.
He sat another second or two, faked left - and kicked off to the right.
Bodie hit a wall. Invisible. He barely got his ass off the seat.
"See?" Amy said, smug as anything. "Gotcha. Try it again..."
She made him do quicker turns, and then power skids.
The wheelies were easy, since he had spent a lot of time practicing 'em on his Sportster. She hadn't known that, though. It felt real good to surprise her, for a change.
He popped off a small one, felt the balance point and bounced back into another, holding that fucker. Her hands tightened around his forearms, ready to push down and land the front of the bike. And Bodie, he just laughed at her...
Soon, a pair of arms locked around his waist, and gave him a long squeeze.
The sand was trickier. He didn't like sand.
So she ordered him to go over it again and again. Forcing skids, and leaning hard to one side or the other. All different speeds.
He'd swallowed two bugs, and he was getting thirsty. But Amy kept pushing him. So he didn't have a lot of choice. Really, he worked his ass off...
By late afternoon, he was comfortable on the shovelhead. Her idea of "training" ended up with a long loop down the road and back - sometimes off-road - where she threw every surprise at him she could come up with. Hard leans, bounces, correcting wobbles. She jerked the handlebars a few times, and shoved him without any warning at all. Barking demands, all of a sudden, to skid one-eighty and open 'er up in the opposite direction. And he stayed loose through it all.
He was like kid at an amusement park. His mouth was sore, from smiling...
Finally they rode back to where they'd started. Nothing made it stand out from the rest of the desert. If she hadn't told him where to slow down, Bodie never would've made it out.
"Smoke," she ordered. His mouth was dry, but it didn't sound like a request. Besides, he was feelin' overdue for one. "Now I want you to bring it back in -"
"Yeah."
"Ssssh. At the start of the last decline - you know the one - I want to see the most brass-balls wheelie you can pull off. Since you've been practicing behind my back, let's see what ya got. Do not overdo it, inmate. End it with a nice skid, but not too close to the door."
"Check," he said, nodding - and chuckling.
"Don't fuck it up, Bodie. If I gotta grab you to keep you from falling over... well, you won't believe what I'll put you through. Later."
His smirk started to go away.
"Stay loose. Asshole. Do just what you've been doin' all afternoon. Okay? Now, go."
Bodie took a big breath, and shifted into first. He took the longest pull on the cigarette that he could. I can do this, he thought. The dirt wasn't loose, like the sand was. And not an hour before, he was pulling off long wheelies - on the sand. And the skid was no problem either. He bit his lip.
A hand messed up his hair - then sorta undid the damage. Amy was just giving him a little encouragement.
Maybe a minute later, after replaying it in his mind a couple times, he topped the last rise. The slope was so gentle, it was almost flat.
No big deal at all. He cackled once, twice... and popped the wheel up.
It was like he'd been rehearsing it for weeks. Which was true, sorta, at least as far as wheelies went. But the whole thing went so smooth, start to finish. He was level when he stopped moving, and he took a drag as the dust blew past, looking around as if he was bored by the whole deal...
Amy didn't say anything. Either she was pissed, or she was letting him worry. Bodie didn't know what her beef could be, but he knew he'd find out eventually. After the rock slid open, he eased the bike onto the ramp -
Amuseur slammed into him. There was a little squeal, right before. It was like... getting hit with a sheet of plywood. All up and down his back.
"Wuf -"
"That was perfect! You did that so good..."
He nearly rode into the wall, but he straightened it out just in time. "Uh. Thanks. Great teacher."
From behind, she hugged him so hard he felt his spine move a little.
The bike was backed into its place, and the goggles were hung on the the throttle grip. He stretched his arms and his neck, groaning happily.
"Now you can come back inside," Amy said.
"Where?" He looked around the garage - and stopped. "Wait. Did you say... back?"
"Uh-huh."
"So I've been here before."
She giggled. "That was before the rules changed."
"Rules?"
"House rules."
Bodie wondered just what he was in for. "But now... I can come in. Again?"
"Uh-huh. They only let bikers in here now."
"Fuck." He grinned... until he thought about what was goin' on inside. "Aw, shit."
That made her laugh. "Let's go."
On to Part 2
20oct02