Read Online Survivor: Steel Jockeys MC by Evelyn Glass - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Evelyn Glass
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should have felt free too, as he always did straddling his bike. Knowing that whatever had troubled him, whatever had made him scream or cry or grieve, was now in the rear view. Kyle had always talked about how he felt the same way, and it was one of the reasons they were close. For Joe, who had lived in many places but called none of them home, riding away was escape. It meant he’d survived, once again.
He tried to relax as he drove, to loosen his grip on the handlebars and the clench of his thighs around the saddle, to let himself go, but he couldn't shake the constant awareness that Ruby Clarke was seated behind him, her wool-clad arms clinging dutifully to his waist. He couldn't figure out if she simply didn't want to try to speak to him over the noise, or if she was deliberately ignoring him.
The truth was, this was far from the first time he had had a girl on the back of his bike. As a teenager, girls used to literally push each other out of the way to be the next to take a spin down the highway with Joseph Ryan. And he always tried to humor them, even if he wasn't interested in leading them on any further. After all, there was no better feeling in the world. Especially for a kid like him, who had nothing better to look at than to watch the dead-end streets fall away under his tires. The scolding faces on the sidewalk became featureless blurs, with a beautiful girl clinging tight to him, her long hair streaming in the wind. But it never meant anything more to him than a good ride, over to the next town and back again.
This was different, though. He could tell just in the way Ruby held onto him. She didn't cuddle close, the way he'd learned that girls liked to do. She didn't caress his torso or trace patterns on his hips, or rest her cheek delicately against the logo on the back of his jacket and close her eyes.
Her hands on his hips stayed taut, her muscles as tense and alert as an eagle perched on a branch, scanning the ground. As if she knew something was bound to go wrong. As if any minute she expected him to turn on her, do something to hurt her. As if she thought he was scum. He needed to disabuse her of that notion--not that he was scum; there was probably no helping that. But the idea that he would do anything to hurt her.
He reached into his pocket again, tempted, not for the first time, to take out the necklace and show it to her. At the very least; it would prove that he had known Kyle, that they had, at one time, been close. But it would also be one more piece of proof to tar him guilty for Kyle's death, and he knew that was precisely what Ruby was looking for: another excuse to write Joe off as worthless, as untrustworthy. To do what people had been doing to him all his life--at least, until he'd met Kyle and the Jockeys. He closed his gloved hands around the chain, tightly, just for second.
What if he passed it silently to her? No. He released his grip, and the chain tumbled deeper into his pocket. He'd know when the time was right. Jesus. How had things gotten so complicated?
He felt Ruby shiver, and coming back to earth, realized that they'd already been riding for an hour and a half. That was more than enough time, he decided, to chance a conversation and not risk her thinking him pushy. Besides, asking how she was doing couldn't hurt if he was trying to show her his intentions were good. "Are you warm enough?" he asked, afraid he sounded as awkward as he felt, and honestly not knowing quite what he'd do if she responded in the negative. Offer her his jacket, he supposed.
"I'll be fine," she said flatly. He was afraid that meant "no, but I'm not taking any charity from you." She hesitated. "Why is this thing so quiet?" she asked. "And yes, I realize the irony of the fact that I'm shouting, but it's only because the wind is so strong. The bike itself is just purring like a kitten over a bowl of milk."
"Yeah," he agreed, surprised and admittedly pleased that
He tried to relax as he drove, to loosen his grip on the handlebars and the clench of his thighs around the saddle, to let himself go, but he couldn't shake the constant awareness that Ruby Clarke was seated behind him, her wool-clad arms clinging dutifully to his waist. He couldn't figure out if she simply didn't want to try to speak to him over the noise, or if she was deliberately ignoring him.
The truth was, this was far from the first time he had had a girl on the back of his bike. As a teenager, girls used to literally push each other out of the way to be the next to take a spin down the highway with Joseph Ryan. And he always tried to humor them, even if he wasn't interested in leading them on any further. After all, there was no better feeling in the world. Especially for a kid like him, who had nothing better to look at than to watch the dead-end streets fall away under his tires. The scolding faces on the sidewalk became featureless blurs, with a beautiful girl clinging tight to him, her long hair streaming in the wind. But it never meant anything more to him than a good ride, over to the next town and back again.
This was different, though. He could tell just in the way Ruby held onto him. She didn't cuddle close, the way he'd learned that girls liked to do. She didn't caress his torso or trace patterns on his hips, or rest her cheek delicately against the logo on the back of his jacket and close her eyes.
Her hands on his hips stayed taut, her muscles as tense and alert as an eagle perched on a branch, scanning the ground. As if she knew something was bound to go wrong. As if any minute she expected him to turn on her, do something to hurt her. As if she thought he was scum. He needed to disabuse her of that notion--not that he was scum; there was probably no helping that. But the idea that he would do anything to hurt her.
He reached into his pocket again, tempted, not for the first time, to take out the necklace and show it to her. At the very least; it would prove that he had known Kyle, that they had, at one time, been close. But it would also be one more piece of proof to tar him guilty for Kyle's death, and he knew that was precisely what Ruby was looking for: another excuse to write Joe off as worthless, as untrustworthy. To do what people had been doing to him all his life--at least, until he'd met Kyle and the Jockeys. He closed his gloved hands around the chain, tightly, just for second.
What if he passed it silently to her? No. He released his grip, and the chain tumbled deeper into his pocket. He'd know when the time was right. Jesus. How had things gotten so complicated?
He felt Ruby shiver, and coming back to earth, realized that they'd already been riding for an hour and a half. That was more than enough time, he decided, to chance a conversation and not risk her thinking him pushy. Besides, asking how she was doing couldn't hurt if he was trying to show her his intentions were good. "Are you warm enough?" he asked, afraid he sounded as awkward as he felt, and honestly not knowing quite what he'd do if she responded in the negative. Offer her his jacket, he supposed.
"I'll be fine," she said flatly. He was afraid that meant "no, but I'm not taking any charity from you." She hesitated. "Why is this thing so quiet?" she asked. "And yes, I realize the irony of the fact that I'm shouting, but it's only because the wind is so strong. The bike itself is just purring like a kitten over a bowl of milk."
"Yeah," he agreed, surprised and admittedly pleased that
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