Serial Story: The Biker's Wench, Ch. 59
This serial novel is posted in draft form every Tuesday and Friday.
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The Biker's Wench
Chapter 59
He reached out to cup the side of her
face, wincing at the motion. "You're not running away. You'll be
back soon, and Burns will go to jail, and you can be free. Just like
you wanted." He tugged her forward and she went willingly, his
lips meeting hers for a quick, gentle kiss. "Go on now. I'll get
this stitched up back at the ranch. It will all work out, trust me."
She nodded, swiping at escaped tears as she caught her breath. "I
do," she said, squeezing his hand one last time. "I'll be
back as soon as I can. Promise."
Forcing herself to pull
away from Harley's touch, she wished she could see his face - his
real face - one last time before she left. But there was no time. She
grabbed the bag from the back seat and shut the door, hesitating for
a few more seconds before finally walking away, her heart tearing in
two.
She almost looked back at the corner of the building, but
didn't allow herself the luxury. If she was going to do this, she had
to just go. Just like every other time. Only it wasn't. Because this
time, she was coming back.
Ducking into the restroom she locked
herself in the handicapped stall and undid all of Alex's careful
work. Most of it she stuffed in the trash, but she carefully rolled
the suit and shirt to pack back in the bag, replacing the jeans,
sweatshirt and tennis shoes Harley had packed. He must have known all
along she'd be going alone, since all the clothing was in her size.
The thought made her mad, and as she counted out a few bills to put
in her pocket from the cash he'd included, she vowed to give him a
piece of her mind about that.
When she got back.
Checking the
mirror for any stray bits of faux flesh she might have missed, she
rinsed her face, pulled her hair up into a pony tail and went out to
the ticket counter. "One for the next bus to Vegas, please.
Round trip."
***
As soon as Monica
disappeared from view, Harley eased out of his suit jacket, balling
the expensive material up and pressing hard against his side.
Reaching up with the other arm, he opened the compartment in the roof
for sunglasses and took out his cell phone, punching in the ranch
clinic's number for the second time that day.
"Doc? It's
Harley. How are your bullet hole skills?" He held the phone away
from his ear, the string of curses coming out of the receiver
bringing a tight grin to his lips. When it grew quiet, he tried
again. "If you're finished, I'll be there in half an hour or so.
Meet me in the tunnel." More yelling, and Harley chuckled as he
disconnected the call, then winced again at the fire in his side. Ben
Martin was a bit rough around the edges, but he was a good doctor,
and if anyone could fix this, he could. As long as Harley could get
himself back to the ranch.
He checked his watch, but knew he
couldn't wait any longer. Securing the jacket tight to his side with
the seat belt, he started the ignition and pulled to the alley
entrance. Traffic was thick on the cross-street, and he knew he
should go right toward the highway, but he felt compelled to go by
the window. Maybe catch one last glimpse of her before she rode away.
It seemed like ages before
the traffic finally slowed to a trickle, and he crept out into the
street, gunning the engine and swinging the wheel to the left at the
same time a bus started to pick up speed coming straight for him. He
tried to correct, but he was too far into the turn, and the wheels
spun out of control beneath him, sliding on the asphalt. Then
everything seemed to be in slow motion as the car twirled neatly in a
circle, smashing into the side of the bus before it did another slow
turn around the back of the bus and up over the curb.
Something broke as Harley
twisted inside the car, overcome by the gravitational pull the crash
had created. Glass shattered inside and out, and he looked up with
horror to realize he was headed straight for Monica, standing between
two vending machines on the far wall. He tried to scream, yell, beg –
anything to get her out of the way, but she stood still, her eyes
locked on his with an expression of inevitability on her face.
The car slammed into the
machines, the impact great enough to send Monica sprawling into the
car and across his lap. Finally stopped, Harley took a shallow breath
and looked down at the woman he loved.
"I'm sorry," he
said quietly, summoning what was left of his strength to smooth her
hair back from her face. She blinked, looking up at him from where
she lay across his lap, opening her mouth, but nothing came out.
Damn. In that moment, he realized that neither of them would
be getting out of this alive.
Sirens sounded in the
distance, and Harley felt hot tears slip down his cheeks. "I
love you, baby. I'm so sorry it had to end this way." He kept
stroking her hair, and she swallowed, hard, then again. Carefully,
slowly her lips moved, and he could just barely make out the words
she whispered.
"I love you too."
The End
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