with her. Better than any others. If she hadn’t been a club bitch, maybe he would have brought her along.
He took hold of the handle bars and kicked his hog in gear. In seconds he was roaring down the road heading for the on-ramp to the north bound highway. By nightfall he would be in bum-fuck-Eureka, dead to the club, dead to the world. Iced.
CHAPTER TWO
Kristina Evans' Honda Accord was making jittery noises and complaining about speed. It was close to five in the evening when her nerves could no longer take it. She took the off ramp into the small town of Eureka. If she had had any clue as to just how small the town was going to be, she might have risked pushing on a bit further, pressing the Accord to hang in there. But she didn't.
As soon as she was off the freeway, she turned right and found herself in the middle of downtown, or whatever one might consider to be a downtown in this spec of the map. The Accord was complaining even more now. She switched off her radio, and concentrated on willing her cute little car to at least make it to a gas station.
The Accord pressed on, shaking and jittering, but it didn't die. Kristina spotted a place a block ahead called Mickey's Bike and Auto . She patted the dash of her suffering Accord. "Almost there. See it? Just a little further," she urged her little car.
The Accord pulled into the parking lot of Mickey's and wedged its way into a stall. But before she could turn it off it shuddered, made a very unique sound, and then died. Kristina sighed. She patted the dash board again. At least the Accord didn't abandon her on the freeway, "I'll get you fixed up. You did your part. I'll take it from here," she promised, hoping her credit cards were up to the task. "We'll make it," she nodded and stepped out of the car.
Downtown Eureka was not much to look at. In fact, after turning completely around and surveying the layout, she came to the realization that she had seen it all. "Wow. I didn't think they came this small any more. Wonder if they have even heard of the Internet? Probably got pancakes though," she smiled. She grabbed her laptop case, which served her as a purse and started for the door of Mickey's Bike and Auto , hoping they knew what a Honda Accord was.
The shop itself was fairly small. It was crammed with lots of cleaning supplies, some do-it-yourself paint touch up, oil, gas cans and an assortment of other stuff she had no interest in. There were also some leather jackets and helmets on sale. The lion's share of the building was consumed with repair bays which she could see past the sales counter. There was only one truck in the bays at the moment, with a man bent over the open engine wrenching on something. The truck was a Toyota, which gave her some hope that this place would have some knowledge about her Honda. Toyotas and Hondas were practically the same anyway, right?
"Hello?" she called out to the mechanic man.
He heard her and lifted a finger, signaling her to wait a minute. She sighed at. She really didn't want to spend the night here if she didn't have to, and she was sure her little Accord wouldn't break something hard to fix on her. It was too cute to act that nasty toward her. She realized this was complete bullshit, but she just chose not to accept it at the moment.
After more than a minute, the man straightened up from the truck, reached into the driver's window and turned the key. The truck purred smoothly to life. The man nodded his head, clicked off the key and then turned his attention to Kristina, who was smiling at this demonstration of success and skill.
As the man came closer, she noticed that he was very large, probably a few inches over six feet even, with a thick chest and arms. The strength of his stature was apparent, even under the baggy cover-alls he was wearing. His hair was to his shoulders. It was honey blond, woven with dark streaks from grease and old oil. She couldn't tell
He took hold of the handle bars and kicked his hog in gear. In seconds he was roaring down the road heading for the on-ramp to the north bound highway. By nightfall he would be in bum-fuck-Eureka, dead to the club, dead to the world. Iced.
CHAPTER TWO
Kristina Evans' Honda Accord was making jittery noises and complaining about speed. It was close to five in the evening when her nerves could no longer take it. She took the off ramp into the small town of Eureka. If she had had any clue as to just how small the town was going to be, she might have risked pushing on a bit further, pressing the Accord to hang in there. But she didn't.
As soon as she was off the freeway, she turned right and found herself in the middle of downtown, or whatever one might consider to be a downtown in this spec of the map. The Accord was complaining even more now. She switched off her radio, and concentrated on willing her cute little car to at least make it to a gas station.
The Accord pressed on, shaking and jittering, but it didn't die. Kristina spotted a place a block ahead called Mickey's Bike and Auto . She patted the dash of her suffering Accord. "Almost there. See it? Just a little further," she urged her little car.
The Accord pulled into the parking lot of Mickey's and wedged its way into a stall. But before she could turn it off it shuddered, made a very unique sound, and then died. Kristina sighed. She patted the dash board again. At least the Accord didn't abandon her on the freeway, "I'll get you fixed up. You did your part. I'll take it from here," she promised, hoping her credit cards were up to the task. "We'll make it," she nodded and stepped out of the car.
Downtown Eureka was not much to look at. In fact, after turning completely around and surveying the layout, she came to the realization that she had seen it all. "Wow. I didn't think they came this small any more. Wonder if they have even heard of the Internet? Probably got pancakes though," she smiled. She grabbed her laptop case, which served her as a purse and started for the door of Mickey's Bike and Auto , hoping they knew what a Honda Accord was.
The shop itself was fairly small. It was crammed with lots of cleaning supplies, some do-it-yourself paint touch up, oil, gas cans and an assortment of other stuff she had no interest in. There were also some leather jackets and helmets on sale. The lion's share of the building was consumed with repair bays which she could see past the sales counter. There was only one truck in the bays at the moment, with a man bent over the open engine wrenching on something. The truck was a Toyota, which gave her some hope that this place would have some knowledge about her Honda. Toyotas and Hondas were practically the same anyway, right?
"Hello?" she called out to the mechanic man.
He heard her and lifted a finger, signaling her to wait a minute. She sighed at. She really didn't want to spend the night here if she didn't have to, and she was sure her little Accord wouldn't break something hard to fix on her. It was too cute to act that nasty toward her. She realized this was complete bullshit, but she just chose not to accept it at the moment.
After more than a minute, the man straightened up from the truck, reached into the driver's window and turned the key. The truck purred smoothly to life. The man nodded his head, clicked off the key and then turned his attention to Kristina, who was smiling at this demonstration of success and skill.
As the man came closer, she noticed that he was very large, probably a few inches over six feet even, with a thick chest and arms. The strength of his stature was apparent, even under the baggy cover-alls he was wearing. His hair was to his shoulders. It was honey blond, woven with dark streaks from grease and old oil. She couldn't tell
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