It was instinct to reach a hand towards the other side of the bed, only to find it cold and empty.
Of course, it almost always was these days. She couldn’t remember the last time she woke up to the warmth of Nev’s body next to her.
In this moment of privacy, barely awake and painfully lonely, Lynn let herself wallow in self-pity for a couple minutes. She had somewhere to live without paying rent. She could work on those beautiful bikes to get her own money. Her boyfriend being a prick sometimes wasn’t a big deal, if he fucked her like last night and left her alone the rest of the day.
She hopped off the bed, took a quick shower then indulged in some skincare stuff she not-so-subtly made Nev gift her for Valentine’s. She made breakfast in autopilot, the silence not as heavy now that the noise of the city outside filtered through the open windows.
Everything was fine. Peachy. Totally a-okay.
Today was a morning run kind of day, she decided. Not that she liked it that much. But hey, drowning sorrows in sweat was the healthy thing to do, she told herself.
Headphones blasting old classic rock she took off, the calm streets of Mudwater Bay welcoming her. It was nice enough, for a port town notable only for its fishing trade, lovely greenery and apathetic inhabitants.
Or at least that’s what it wanted to appear to outsiders.
Since stumbling into this good-for-nothing hellhole, Lynn hadn’t felt safe for a single day. Sure, dating Nev provided some safety, but she wasn’t so naive as to delude herself into thinking that was enough.
Almost like the city itself agreed with her, she passed a darkened alley looking shady as fuck even in the light of mid-morning. She gave it a wide berth, ran a little faster. At least by now, she knew exactly where and what to avoid.
As she turned a corner, ready to make her way back to the apartment, the reason for taking this specific route appeared in her line of vision: the Rusted Fang. Lynn had to suppress a squeak of delight. Of course, knowing what to avoid didn’t mean she always did. Some things were worth the danger, after all.
Imposing, shiny and looking like straight out of a movie, the motorcycles of the Black Venom gang were the wet dream of any mechanic. She slowed down to a casual walk, taking her time as she approached the front of the pub. At the very end of the neat line of parked bikes sat the cherry on top and her newest obsession.
The Dark Horse wasn’t as flashy when compared to the others, but definitely modded and customized to perfection. Indian Motors sure knew how to make one hell of a motorcycle. However, this beauty had the added magnificence of someone who actually cares about their machine.
Lynn clasped her hands behind her back to resist the urge of running one through the leather seat. What she wouldn’t give to get a look to that engine. Hell, she would give up anything just to get a peek.
A thought wormed its way between the others.
What would it feel like to ride it?
“Hope you’re not thinking of stealing that.” Came a voice from somewhere behind her. With a start, Lynn realized she’d been just standing there like a fool.
“Fuck, no. I don’t have a death wish.” Lynn said as she pivoted to face the newcomer. Mercifully, it wasn’t the owner of the bike she was drooling at.
Lynn looked up to find a tall, tanned, athletic woman with curly black hair. Her face was one of the most beautiful she’d ever seen. However, her air of effortless charm, with a mouth set in a sly smile, was the very definition of trouble.
“Smart girl,” said the woman with a nod, and simply strode past her to the door, disappearing inside the pub.
Taking deep breaths, thanking whatever higher power decided she was in luck today, Lynn took off at a brisk pace.
Because that woman was the club’s Vice-President, a face Lynn had learned to spot from afar to avoid. And indeed, it meant nothing but trouble for her.
Back at the apartment, Lynn grabbed something to eat and headed straight for the garage. The benefit of living on the ground floor of a two-story downtown building, was that the garage came as part of the rent.
Two black Harleys sat inside. One stripped to only its frame, the other still covered by an old blanket. Lynn shimmied into her overalls, then set to tidying up the space a little before starting her work.
This was the other reason she stuck around with Nev for so long, despite the setbacks. A boyfriend in a biker’s gang—sorry, club—meant unlimited access to the beauties his idiot friends rode. And when eventually those idiots broke or harmed this poor babies with their carelessness, Lynn got to put her hands on them. She didn’t mind being the cheapest motorcycle mechanic in town, she told herself too often to be true.
She had a job she loved. A boyfriend that did just enough to keep her happy. A roof, a warm bed and four meals a day. What else was out there?
City lights blurring at the edges of her vision. The wind whistling in her ears as she weaved through the empty streets. The thrill of the speed, the danger in the next turn, the humm of the engine below her like a second heartbeat. This was what flying must feel like…
Lynn blinked, her vision refocusing on the wrench she held mid-way to the tire. A deep sense of longing and sorrow the only aftermath of the memory that assaulted her.
Yeah, there was that.