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“Heard you got shot,” Muffin said. “You good?”
“Still breathing.”
“That I can see.”
“That’s all that matters,” Linc said. “If you see Cyrus, tell him I’m on personal business right now.”
“Will do, VP. You need protection? You shouldn’t ride alone.”
“I’ll follow the kid around,” Custer called out.
“Park your ass,” Linc ordered. “I’m solo today. This is personal.”
Linc got the hell out of the clubhouse before any more questions were thrown his way.
There was something about a ride in the morning. The outlaw life never stopped. It never slept. It never rested. Yet there were pockets of time—like this one—where it just felt good to ride. The simplicity of the freedom this kind of lawless life offered.
Linc cruised the streets of Cielo. People all around him getting ready to go put in their eight hours or more at a job they hated. A job that didn’t pay enough. Thinking about their bills, their debts, or promising themselves that next year they’ll take a big vacation with their family. For Linc, he’d rather take ten more bullets than live like that.
A few minutes later he pulled into the back lot of Piggy’s, climbed off his motorcycle and balanced his bucket helmet on the seat. The back door swung open and out walked Jackie, carrying a bag of trash. A little stump of a cigarette stuck between his lips. His bug like eyes forever tired and swollen, decades of owning a restaurant.
“Lincoln!” Jackie cried out. “What are you doing up this early?”
“Came for the best breakfast in town,” Linc said.
Jackie tossed the trash bag into a rusted dumpster and wiped his hands on his stained apron. He spit the stubbed the cigarette out of his mouth and started to laugh.
“Your buddy over there should buy this place,” Jackie said. “The cook? He’d make a killing here.”
Linc and Jackie shook hands.
“You won’t sell this place,” Linc said. “We all know it.”
Jackie grumbled under his breath. “Come on in. What do you want?”
“Meeting someone here.”
Jackie opened the back door and held his arm across. “Shit hitting the fan?”
“Nah,” Linc said. “Nothing like that. I’m meeting a woman here.”
“That pretty one sitting in the front corner in a booth all alone?” Jackie asked. “Gorgeous woman. Looking sad and tired too. She’s sipping a coffee right now.”
Jackie moved his arm and Linc walked through the kitchen fast, but trying not to look too obvious about it. He nodded to Miguel and Hora as they cooked and took care of the dishes.
Linc stood at the kitchen door and stared out of the circular window. He spotted Nova right away. Years had gone by. Years. Linc’s jaw tightened.
She was as beautiful as ever. Her face more womanly now. Those young girl features retiring. Her face a little tighter. Her cheekbones a little higher. She didn’t look eighteen anymore, which was okay. That was the point of time. Linc knew he didn’t look like an eighteen year old punk on a motorcycle thinking he would rule the world.
Her hair was longer now, pulled back and twisted up and clipped. Never one to dress up fancy or throw on ten pounds of makeup, because Nova never needed that. Her naturally beauty seemed unfair. And her love for oversized hoodies and sweaters only made it that much more sexier when she stripped herself down, revealing a curvy body that could make even the most insane outlaw an honest man.
“Need a shot of whiskey before talking to her, my brother?” Miguel offered Linc.
Linc nodded. “You have no fucking idea, Miguel. If I walk through this door, her life is about to get fucked up for good.”
“Women have a way of making that kind of thing happen.”
“Nah, not her. It’s me. It’s my life. I’m going to ruin her.”
