Long Ride Novel – I stared at my phone, twenty calls, fifty messages, and not a single reply. This was not right, I immediately rushed to the MC Club to find him. “You, why are you here?” Kirili grabbed me, looking unnatural “I’m here to see Nick” I broke away from the hug and walked towards the garage. “Lianna, wait!” Kirili shouted nervously. “Don’t – have a cup of tea first? Have a cocktail? Eat some cookies? Read your palm?” My heart was pounding. This was not right. A strong sense of uneasiness arose. “I have to talk to him now. Can’t wait.” I walked quickly to the door and pushed it open. The sight before me was like a sharp, fiery knife stabbing into my heart： Nick was stripped undressed, and Helena’s slender figure was wrapped around him like a snake.
“I’ve got to go,” she said, setting down her cup. “I’ve got to find out.” “I’ll take you,” said Tomahawk suddenly. “Have you ever been on a bike before?” Tomahawk called back to her as he revved the motor on their way out. He’d wheeled it silently down the street, far enough away so it wouldn’t attract Tryg’s attention as they peeled out, Liana’s heart thrumming in her chest along with the rhythm of the motor as it took the curves, clinging to Tomahawk’s ample leather-clad torso, the smell of gas and wind in her nostrils and snarling her hair. Liana had only been on a motorcycle a couple of other times in her life–that she remembered, anyway.
She still had photo of her in the baby seat Trace Ryan had strapped on the back of his customized Harley chopper, the one her mother had sold for six months’ worth of grocery money after he’d died and before she’d married Noel. It was one of the many things about her father she wished she could touch–same with his leather jackets, which had been similarly been disposed of by Larissa Ryan, as if to torch the ground her first husband had walked on, salt it so that nothing could grow there, so her daughter couldn’t put down her own roots there. She almost laughed, thinking what her mother would say if she woke up from her wine-soaked Florida haze and could see her now. Liana’s stomach jerked forward and back, accelerating and decelerating, joining with the motion of the bike. Breathless, she thought of Nick, of what he’d say when he saw her, of the surprise in his eyes, of whether he’d finally be proud of her, the way she’d always wanted him to be – for breaking the rules, for being the girl she hadn’t been brave enough to be the first time around.
As a teenager, she’d never snuck out, never climbed a tree, never stuffed her bed with pillows to look like she was in it. The one time she had broken curfew, Nick had saved her from Noel’s wrath. But if she’d actually listened to her own voice, rather than her stepfather’s, who had invaded her head. In the school musical, she had garnered so much acclaim for playing a good girl gone bad, the one who’d finally ginned up the courage to break the rules–and yet her connection to the character had been nothing more than to see her name at the top of the program, and to see how many rose bouquets she could collect when the curtain closed. And when she finally had crossed the Rubicon to be with Nick, the first time in her life she’d ever broken a rule–it had broken both of them instead, because she hadn’t been brave enough to stand up for her choice – for the boy she wanted. She knew it may be too late to make up for it now, but as she whizzed down the stretch of highway that separated Helena’s enclave from the town of Prudence, she knew she had to try. “Are you kidding?” asked Liana, trying to push a toughness in her voice that she didn’t quite feel. “You do know that my dad founded the motorcycle club you’re currently a member of, right?” “Seriously, how many times?” he asked.
“Twice, I think,” she said meekly. Tomahawk laughed so loudly she could hear it over the motor. Kirrily had picked Kizzy up from her daycare at the neighbor’s two doors down, and was just getting off her shift at the bar as they pulled into the driveway of her house. Liana had hoped nobody would notice their presence, but there was really no way to pull in on a customized Harley and not alert the whole neighborhood. Kirrily quickly handed Kizzy a juice box and scooted her inside before she could ask what was going on, then ran out and grabbed Liana, hugging her to her as fiercely as a mother bear whose cubs had climbed a tree and couldn’t get down. “There’s a strange energy about you,” she said. “A new energy.” “Kirrily, I’m really sorry I can’t stay longer and explain what’s going on, but I have to find Nick.” Liana said with determination, breaking away from the hug, aiming herself toward the garage. “Liana, wait!” shouted Kirrily nervously. Liana barely spun around.
“Don’t–are you sure you don’t want to come inside first? Have a cup of tea? A cocktail? Some cookies? A palm reading?” Tomahawk just shrugged; he wasn’t going to try to stop Liana when she was this determined. Liana wrinkled her brow, not sure why her aunt was using these obvious stalling tactics. “I’ve got to talk to him now. It can’t wait.” But Kirrily’s concerned eyes looked even more desperate now as Liana ventured around the side of the house and into the backyard. What she saw there stopped her dead in her tracks: Nick disappearing into the garage, Helena’s willowy figure wound around his body like a black swan.