Page 4 of Harley
“Stay by the bike. I’ll book two rooms, then we’ll figure everything else out. If you want to keep a low profile, staying outof sight helps,” I explained. Before Oakley could argue, I walked away.
I booked two rooms using my card and asked about food and a clothing store. On gaining the information from reception, I headed back to Oakley, who remained standing by my bike.
“Come on, I got us rooms,” I said as I got near. I spun on my heel, expecting Oakley to catch me up. After a few seconds, she didn’t, and I glanced behind. Oakley was staring down at the ground as she hobbled towards me.
“What the fuck?” I asked as I glimpsed toes.
I hurried back to Oakley, lifted her remaining dress, and gaped in horror. Oakley was barefoot, and her feet were a flaming mess.
“Put that down!” Oakley hissed, batting at my hands.
I didn’t bother arguing but scooped Oakley up and strode towards the motel room.
Oakley bitched as I carried her, but I ignored her and entered the room. Carefully, I dumped her on the bed and, crouching, grabbed an ankle.
I lifted her foot and hissed. Shit. Oakley’s skin was shredded. I didn’t attempt to check the other one. No doubt it would be identical.
Oakley gazed at me, her bottom lip between her teeth, as I rose to my feet and walked into the bathroom. There, I pulled a bowl out from a cupboard, washed it thoroughly and filled with warm water.
“Honey, I’m going to fetch you some food and clothing. While I’m gone, keep those feet soaking. We need to clean the dirt out. Then I’ll take a proper look,” I said.
“Harley, I can’t go to the hospital,” Oakley demurred immediately.
“I’m a trained first aider. Hopefully, I can do something about them. If not, you’re in for an uncomfortable night until I get you to a doc tomorrow,” I replied.
“I can’t see a doctor,” Oakley gritted out as I placed her feet into the bowl. She winced, and tears formed in her eyes.
“You got any allergies?” I asked, and Oakley looked puzzled.
“What?”
“Allergies? Any medicine you can’t take?”
“Oh, no, I’m good all round. I don’t have any.”
“Take these,” I ordered, handing over two Tylenol. I gave Oakley a glass of water, and she swallowed them.
“Let those soak. Are you a vegetarian?”
“Hell no,” Oakley exclaimed, causing me to smile.
“Good, I won’t be long. Don’t walk on them,” I ordered and left.
Oakley
How the hell did I manage to find a knight in white armour that rode a Harley Davidson? Even better, he was called Harley and owned a Harley.Dude! My luck must be changing.
I propped some pillows up behind me and leaned back. My feet were in agony, and I hoped the Tylenol kicked in soon. The church drive had torn them up good and proper.
The package pressed into my belly, and I needed to remove it. But did I trust Harley not to steal it?
I shoved that thought aside. Harley could have hurt or disappeared me easily. He’d hardly harm me now. Wriggling around, I managed to get the package out, and my stomach thanked me. It was a brown envelope and quite padded.
Inside was my birth certificate, driver’s licence, and my qualifications. The envelope also contained a secret bank account nobody knew about, five thousand in cash and a fewother bits and pieces. The account held over half a million dollars, meaning I had plenty to survive on for now.
But I couldn’t use my ID. My family and Reverend Jeffrey could trace me the moment I did. Perhaps this Harley had contacts who produced fake identification. Bikers tended to have a lot of acquaintances. I didn’t want to judge Harley, but hopefully, he wouldn’t take offence at the question.
After twenty minutes, my feet were starting to resemble prunes, and I was considering taking them out of the now lukewarm water when Harley returned. He carried several bags and dumped them on the floor.
