Wild Riders

Moving in

Once I got off the plane, I rented a car but by the time I got to the house, it was already 2 in the morning. Exhausted from last night's events and the flight, I didn't even look at the house or the condition it was in. With half-closed eyes, I stepped on the first stair that led to the porch of the house. It creaked so loudly that I was suddenly wide awake, only hoping the wood wouldn't give out under my weight. Not wanting to actually fall through the next stairs, I skipped it, stepping on the porch. In hindsight, it was not a good idea, since the plank on which I stepped broke, making my foot get stuck in the construction underneath, resulting in me falling on my ass. What an entry! At that point, I was glad I arrived in the middle of the night, so no one could see my embarrassment. A curse fell from my mouth, as I tried to free my leg and get back up to a standing position. "God f*****g old fuckin house, with the old f*****g wooden porch. Who the f**k thought using wood and never replacing it when it's literally next to the ocean was a good fuckin idea!?" the cursing started as a mutter, a low grumble if you wish, but as I finally got my leg out, and felt the blood dripping down my leg, it all turned into silent yelling. Fed up with everything, I went and stepped on the porch again, this time, luckily not falling through it. "Oh yeah, great, there's not even a lock or a handle on the fuckin door," I was fed up. I kicked the door open with my foot and cringed at the screeching sound it made as it swung open. I stepped into a large room and flicked on the light switch, and to my surprise, the place had electricity. The room I was standing in was meant to be a kitchen, living, and dining room all in one. Large windows were placed on the left and back walls and a round one was placed on the right wall, just above the staircase that was leading to the second floor. There was a recently cleaned path leading to the center of the room, where a new mattress was placed on a large blanket. At least I've got somewhere to sleep, I thought as I went to place my bag on the little wooden drawer standing next to the door. Just as I put the bag down, something heavy fell off of it and on the floor. Irritated, I went to pick, whatever it was, up, only to find it was a box with a new door lock and handle. There was a note attached with tape on the side of the box, but I decided whatever was written on it could wait until morning.

***

I awoke in a panic, startled by a nightmare that had been chasing me for years now. Looking around, just to make sure I was alone, I took a few deep breaths to calm my heart rate. Letting out a sigh, I willed myself to get up, since I had errands to run and it seemed the sun had already risen a few hours ago. The first thing on the agenda was installing the lock and handle. Getting up, I moved to the box, picking it up from the floor, where I decided a few hours ago, it was best to leave it, so it wouldn't fall again and maybe, this time, wake a neighbor in the process. I ripped off the note, and the tape, taking bits and pieces of the box's cardboard with it in the process.

Dear Diana,

I feel quite awful for leaving the house in the condition in which it is. I know, this is not much, but I have asked my granddaughter to at least get you a new mattress and door lock since the old one kept jamming up, and we had to get it taken out, but I never got it replaced - I blame it on my forgetfulness that has come with age. I hope you have the money to hire a professional for the installment, but there are some old tools in the space below the staircase that you can use if you are more of a "do-it-myself" kinda gal.

I hope the house serves you well,

George Harris

A light chuckle left my lips as I read the note. George was an old British geezer, who sounded quite happy and full of life when we talked on the phone about the house. He said he hadn't been to the USA in years, and that although he had a granddaughter, she didn't visit here often enough either, to be able to use the house, so he had no other choice but to put it up for sale. He was well into his chattering when he realized he hadn't even asked my name, and by then I had already decided to go with Diana. It seemed fitting for ... well, obvious reasons, and I just knew the old man would fall for it. He was proper excited when I told him my made-up name, asking if I had any British relatives, to which I quickly said yes, making up another white lie. I probably wouldn't have needed to deceive the man like that, but I wanted him to like "me", and consider me as a person to who he had some kind of connection, who wasn't a total stranger, even though I was and the connection he thought we had was nowhere near the truth. At the end of the day, the only thing that mattered was that my little plan worked, and I even got a free mattress from it. What more could a girl want?

Putting the note into the box, I went in search of the tools he'd mentioned. The good thing about the training from my father was, that he wanted me to know how to take care of my own things; meaning knowing how to install or change anything from inside or outside the house to the motorbike.

Once the problem with the door was finally handled, I grabbed my bag and went into town. Over the years I bought some things whenever I had money to spare and had them sent to a friend, who had some storage space. Once I knew, where I'd end up, I asked him to send the stuff to a storage unit I rented in Charleston, where I was now headed by car - I had to get myself a bike, and pronto since I didn't have money to be renting a car. Once at the storage unit, I was surprised at the accumulation of stuff I had acquired over the years. but mostly, I was surprised by the black old motorbike leaning against the wall of the unit. I unconsciously bit down on my lip and scrunched my brows looking at it, perplexed about where it came from. I have to admit, I have bought things while drunk, but I think I'd remember buying this. Getting my phone out of my back pocket, I decided it was best to call up Caleb, who was supposed to look after my stuff and send it here. As the phone in my hand was ringing, I stepped over to the bike. It had definitely seen better days, but I could get some new parts for it, strip the color that had been tarnished by, probably, a fall and the bike flying over the asphalt on its side, and give it a fresh painting. "Never thought I'd see your name flash on my phone screen," Caleb's voice made me break from my thoughts and come back to reality. "Didn't I tell you to only end my stuff to the unit?" one could hear the aggravation in my voice. "If I want to steal something I'll do it myself, thank you very much," a laugh erupted from the other side of the line after I'd said that. "I don't doubt your skills, Doll. So, I'd say you've discovered the old beaut I've added to your collection of things," the smile he had on his dumb face could be heard over the phone. "Since I'm being greeted with silence from you, I'll go on and explain. I got it at a yard sale. As soon as I saw it I had to think of you and I just knew I had to get it for you. Apparently, the husband of a soccer mom had a bit of an accident with it, and she decided it was time to get rid of the bike along with some other crap they didn't need in the house while he was at work. I think she got kinda scared once she saw me approaching her, at least I think so because she immediately obliged the offer I gave her for the bike and then ushered me away as soon as she could, muttering something about me scaring the neighbors or some s**t like that." by the end of his story my mouth was agape. "You, Caleb, Mr. I will never buy something if it ain't for me, paid with real money for a whole ass motorbike and had it sent to me?!" I couldn't believe the words leaving my mouth. The guy has never even paid for a drink to flirt with a girl, not that he needed to, with the flirting skills he had, but still. "Remind me to never do it again, if this is the thanks I get," the sad sound in his voice was as fake as can be. "Okay, okay ... thank you. Like really. This means a lot to me C," some emotion was showing in my voice, and I didn't like it. It made me feel vulnerable. "Anything for you, Doll. Besides, it was like 200$," a laugh of victory erupted from him, obviously proud of how easily a mommy from a nice neighborhood could be convinced that things are worth less than they are if confronted with a big man clad in leather.

***

The next day I was up early. The boxes had been delivered yesterday, by a moving company. They were all placed in front of the porch, only the bike was safely put in the little garage that was attached to one side of the house. Some of the boxes on the porch I already carried inside yesterday, but a few leftover boxes were still waiting for me outside. I had already finished cleaning the kitchen yesterday before I got too tired and went to bed. I slept probably a good four hours and then I went to work again, I've been unpacking things since 6 a.m., and now I wanted to start on some repairs. First up was the staircase. The railing was all wobbly, and the carpet on the stairs had started lifting, and to be honest, it was quite worn, so I decided to get rid of it completely. After that was done, I'd start cleaning the house and then, it would be time to fix the porch.

As I was looking through the tools I'd need, I was grateful that the house wasn't in as bad of a shape as it seemed at first. The house was furnished, which meant less money and time going to waste on making it habitable. I even found a radio which was now blasting music while I was working. There was also the fact that the house hadn't been vandalized, which probably meant that this was either an extremely nice and safe neighborhood or that the door lock had been removed only very recently. Whatever the reason was, I was glad.

A few minutes into my work, a knock on the door stopped me in my tracks. It couldn't be them... could it? The Venom MC was full of idiots, but maybe I underestimated them. I pursued my lips, thinking about what to do. I was looking at the door, contemplating my next move when another knock sounded. No way would they knock twice. With one last thought of "if I die I die, but I won't die without a fight," I went to open the door.

When I was unboxing kitchen supplies (which there wasn't a lot of), I'd put a knife on the drawer beside the door - just in case. And now, while I was opening the door so confidently, I was also fully prepared to quickly grab it, even if it wasn't members of the Venoms standing behind the door.

Once I swung the door open, I had almost fully convinced myself that I was going to be attacked the second there was no barrier between me and them. My preparedness was stopped, by the shock that was caused by the man, who was leaning with one hand against the door frame, while looking both hot and annoyed as hell.

Still, I couldn't be reckless around people I didn't know because, for all I knew, this downright drool-worthy guy standing on my porch was working for one of the MCs that I had no intention to get caught and killed by. "You're just gonna stare at me or what?" I leaned my right shoulder on the doorway, making it easier to reach behind and grab the knife if needed. Shaking his head he squeezed his eyes a bit, making his facial expression change to a bitter, annoyed one. I raised an eyebrow waiting for his response. "Turn the f*****g music down and leave your little DIY projects for the afternoon when people ain't sleeping no more," he said, with a calm voice, but I could sense the anger out of it. "It's 11 a.m., meaning I can be as loud as I want to." I relaxed a bit as I realized that he was just one of my neighbors and not one of those crazy bikers, even though he did have a rough look, with a piercing above his right thick dark eyebrow, a nose stud, and a few tattoos that could be seen on his arms since he was only wearing a tank top. It seemed like a snake that was strangled by roses.

I took a step back inside, wanting to close the door when he pushed it back, spinning us around so that my back was pressed against the now-closed door. Damn, he was fast. I could feel the cold morning breeze that made chills go up my spine. Or was it him that was giving me the chills? "Seem like you don't know who I am that you dare disrespect me like that," he whispered into my ear, his left hand squeezing my hip. I chuckled under my breath. I was smaller than him, but since he was leaning down to my ear, my nose was perfectly aligned with the column of his neck. I ran my nose up and down his neck with a smirk on my lips. His muscles started to tense, and I could obviously see that he didn't expect me to do that. His grip on my hip tightened, and I could hear the wood of the doorway crack. It was time to up the game some more. "So... I haven't done this in a long time," I whispered into his ear in a sweet, seductive voice. "Oh yeah, well, you don't know what you're missing." He ran his hand down my tight, squeezing it before he pushed himself away and walked back to his house. I was left standing behind, looking as confused as ever. He just turned my game on me! I bit the inside of my cheek, folding my arms across my chest, giving him the death stare while he was opening his front door. As if he could feel my eyes on him, he faced me with a cocky smirk before he disappeared into his house.

There was only one thing I could say for sure about this man; he could make my blood boil, and I had yet to discover whether it was in a good or a bad way.