Page 54 of Demon

“We’re going on a ride today.”

I groaned inwardly. I’d heard those words spoken between the bikers.

“So, why am I going?”

“It’s a full club thing. We ride up to the racecourse, check on the preparation for the rally, and then we do a ride. We’ve done it for years.”

I nodded, still not getting my answer. “And you want me to come because….”

“Because all the ol’ ladies are going.” I opened my mouth, the complaint just on the tip of my tongue. “And girlfriends,” he added.

“So, you’re now assuming I’m your girlfriend?”

Demon’s eyebrows pulled together, confusion crossing his face, and then disappointment. And hurt. And now I felt like the bitch.

“Demon, look. I’ve not done this before.” I flipped my hand in the air above me. “You know. A relationship. Of any sort. I don’t know how ready for it I am. That’s not to say I don’t like you. I just don’t want you to get attached to something I don’t know whether I can give you.”

Demon nodded. His eyes were that of a loyal puppy I’d just kicked.

“Look. Just give me time. OK? I don’t mean space. Just time.”

“I won’t be going anywhere, darlin’. I’ll be right here, when you’ve decided what you want.”

I walked across to him, cupping his face with my hand, drawing his eyes to mine. And for a few seconds, we stood there looking at each other. Then he brushed his mouth over my lips. A gentle kiss, not full of lust and need like he normally kissed me. And it said he’d wait for me. Wait for me to decide whether I could accept him as anything more than the physical relationship we had developed.

“Thank you,” I whispered as he moved his lips from mine. “For now, I can be your fuck buddy.”

Demon smiled. But it was thin, and faint, his eyes full of sadness, in contrast to the exaggerated attempt his lips made.

*****

The leather jacket and trousers were stiff, and I was sure I was walking like a rusty robot. I clung onto Demon as the bike roared from under us, the vibrations from the heavy engine making it feel like my limbs would resonate off entirely. The carpark of theDog on the Tynewas swamped with bikes, parked in neat rows of polished aluminium, as leather clad men and women stood around chatting and smoking.

“Are these all members of the Northern Kings?” I shouted over the loud rumble of Demon’s bike.

“Yep. And their ol’ladies.”

“I didn’t realise there were so many?”

“You’ll have seen the committee members. This is everyone. The regulars don’t attend Church every week. Only once a quarter or when there’s a big decision to be made.”

“Church?”

“It’s what we call the club meetings.”

“Got a feeling you lot don’t say your Hail Mary’s.”

Demon chuckled, pulling off his helmet and turning round in his seat to look at me. His dark hair was mussed up from the black helmet, thick, unruly strands going everywhere. The corner of his mouth pulled into a little grin, and right there and then he’d never looked anymore gorgeous. Fuck. He was wearing me down with his need for a relationship. I needed him to be an arsehole. To remind me he really was a criminal on a bike, not boyfriend material, like he was trying to convince me of.

A bike pulled up beside us, the engine cutting off and the tall, leather engulfed rider kicking out the stand and letting it settle to the right-hand side. The passenger behind him pulled their helmet off, smoothing the waves of blonde hair behind her ears.

“Hey, Ciara. Really great to see you.” Suzy flashed me that wide grin, her single dimple forming on her left cheek.

Magnet climbed off the bike, stretching out his hand like a gentleman and helping his petite wife off the back of the overly polished and purring beast. It was a big thing, with two exhausts on either side and an intricately painted tank of red roses and silver barbed wire intertwined on a black background. Beautiful. The leather double seat underneath was a complex design, a pattern stitched into the leather. I stared, my eyes following the lines in the seat, the picture forming in front of me, of ghosts and ghouls and spectres, all merged into an incredibly elaborate leather art piece.

“Think your lass is checking out my ass,” Magnet chuckled, his voice suddenly loud as the engine of the Harley next to us cut out.

“I… err…no I was just looking at the seat. Of your bike.”