My BFF, Jenny, was helping me take my belongings upstairs when a group of bikers arrived and assisted us. I had five boxes and two suitcases filled with all sorts of items.
“Thanks, guys, for the help,” I said sweetly, my BFF batting her eyes at them and swaying her hips suggestively as she walked and thanked them.
She makes me laugh with her antics, which are totally opposite to mine. I like jeans and am rarely seen in a dress, whereas she was seldom seen in jeans.
“We got a party at the clubhouse, tomorrow Saturday, you should come and relax a bit, bring your girls with ya,” Bruiser suggested as he threw his arm over my shoulder, walked me to the settee, pushed me down, and handed me a beer they had brought with them.
This was how they acted around me, ordered me about. Sometimes, I’m okay with it; other times, I get all worked up and growl back at them. Today was acceptance. I know they mean well, and I feel lucky to have them as family; they try to make me feel better.
“That sounds like a blast, count me in, and I can bring two other girl friends with us. Max, do you want me to pick you up?” Jenny offered, taking a beer from one of the guys. She was not a beer drinker; however, in this situation, I could see her not refusing anything they offered. I guess I’m going, whether I want to or not.
“No, I’ll ride over,” I replied as one of the guys ordered pizza.
“That’s the spirit. Nothing like the wind in your hair to blow the cobwebs away.” They stayed because they didn’t want me to be alone, not on my first night here.
Pizza arrived not long after, and my little bungalow was soon feeling too small and crowded, with six huge bikers in the room. Some sat on the floor; others pulled up one of the three kitchen chairs. I know, I know, three chairs sound odd, but that’s what was here, and beggars can’t be choosers; the rent was dirt cheap, and I think the boys are the ones to make sure I had everything I needed.
They found out about my situation the next day, because, I was still quiet at work, which was not like me, often I am singing to the radio, or swearing at something, so one of the guys approached me, to find out what gives, and I softly told them, what went down, and when word got around the bikers heard I needed a place to stay, because I was kicked out of my home and why, they came to me, like protective brothers. Now I have a whole gang of bikers who have my back. I feel privileged to call them friends.
They even offered to rough the ex up for me, but I refused the offer, because strangely, I was happy to get rid of the loser if he was a cheating bastard. Better now than when I am fully invested in our relationship. Plus, I was in deep enough shite with my parents and sister without making it worse.
The pizza was gone, my BFF left for home, and the guys did too. It was late, well, for me, midnight. I usually fall asleep quickly because I have to be up for work at five. Tomorrow, being Saturday, I have the morning shift before the party later. They let me leave work early so I can move in here.
“Hey, don’t forget to come, we need our prettiest mechanic at the party, some of the boys might need a tune-up,” Bruiser said with a laugh as they climbed on their bikes and left. I know what sort of tune-up he was talking about, and it had nothing to do with a motor.
I looked around my new home. It wasn’t much, but it was all mine. The guys were great; they took the empty pizza boxes and beer cans with them, and the place was relatively clean. Not at all what you would expect from a group of rowdy men.
The clubhouse.
I had never been to it, despite having worked there for nearly four years, and they had never extended an invitation to me. I know they had lots of parties; maybe I was too young. I turned twenty recently, but they might think of me as the fifteen-year-old who showed up one day and told the boss I was going to be his apprentice. He laughed at first and said he would give me a go to prove myself. He thought I was joking and that I would be gone by the weekend, but over the holidays, I worked hard and have been here ever since.
Maxine POV
The beeping sound of my phone alarm made me sit up and look around. It took a moment to remember where I was. The room had a small curtain that barely kept the light out. There was a streetlight just outside my window. I can envisage myself getting better blackout curtains soon. Although it was annoying, it wasn’t among my top priorities for making this a home.
The shower was decent, with nice pressure. I followed my morning routine, only to realize how foolish I was to wake up so early, living above my place of work; I didn’t need to ride here. After finishing breakfast and cleaning up the kitchen, I still had half an hour before I needed to be at work.
I had two ways to get into my place: one was through the back stairs, and the other was through the shop. With the code to turn off the alarm, I decided to head down and start work early. It was better than moving stuff around; I can do that later. I had a bike to finish by this afternoon. The customer would be here at two.
Turned off the alarm, turned on the coffee pot, the radio, and headed to my workstation, where the fat boy was waiting for me to finish. I sat on the stool with casters and began my job, singing loudly to the heavy rock song that came on the radio as I installed the new spark plugs and double-checked the oil. It was a simple, easy-peasy service. Once finished, I started the bike up, let it idle while I made coffee, then returned to rev it a few times. It sounds lumpy, like it was just turning over perfectly; it was music to my ears. I love that throaty, deep, lumpy sound. You can feel it vibrate through my chest.
“That’s a sound I loved to hear as I enter work.” My boss, Mike, said as I turned the bike off.
“It’s ready to go, unless you want to take it out for a test ride. Want a coffee, pots hot.” I offered as I threw the dirty rag in the bin.
“Sure, I will take the bike out for a spin, and you can make me a coffee.” He smirked as he grabbed the bike. I opened the garage door, and Mike took off. I smiled as he disappeared down the street, and I turned to make both of us coffee. If you hadn’t guessed already, I would drink a lot of coffee. I am not a fan of soft drinks or tea; for me, it’s coffee or water.
With a broom in hand, I began cleaning the shop. I am not out here very often, but I try to sweep the floor at least once a week; they have another apprentice who’s a second year, who gets to do most of the cleaning up, but he’s never here on a Saturday.
The sound of the bike returning prompted me to pick up the two cups of coffee and head back out to the workshop. Mike had a massive grin on his face as he parked the bike.
“Great job, you are our top mechanic. But don’t tell anyone, or I will have to deny it.” He joked, taking his coffee from my hand as he walked by, no doubt letting the customer know the bike was ready ahead of time.
I moved to the next bike, which was a total rebuild; it had been in a minor accident, and while the frame was being checked, I would work on the engine and gearbox. It was the only job on my list at the moment. The bike owner was in no hurry; he had a broken leg, giving me a few weeks to work on his bike and any urgent jobs that might come into the shop.
The client arrived and happily took possession of his bike, very happy with the job done.
“I hear you’ve been invited to the club party tonight,” Mike said as he rang up the sale on the cash register.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.