The Cabin

“Will do,” Jason said with a nod. He went to work immediately as I made my way to the office and disappeared inside.

Jason was new at the shop. He started riding a few months earlier and was still fresh blood. We didn’t let him near the bikes unless he was washing them. He was itching to learn more, but the boss would have kicked my ass if I let him so much as touch an engine.

“Hey Mike,” I said to the bike’s owner. “We’re about done. I got her up and running for you. Should be good to go now.”

“Thanks, Sean,” he said with an approving nod.

“Anytime,” I said. “Jason’s just wiping her down. You’ll be out of here in a few.”

“You know you’re the only person I trust with my bike,” he said. I smiled, but I was sure it looked more like a grimace. This was a compliment I was used to. Almost everyone who came asked for me.

“I get that a lot,” I said. I walked behind the counter and printed out his bill.

“Listen,” Mike said. “Do you ride?”

“Of course,” I said. What kind of question was that?

“What you got?” he asked.

“Harley Dyna,” I said without feeling. I placed his bill on the counter between us and waited for him to pick it up. He didn’t.

“I run an MC up North. Just a few miles out of town. We could use someone like you.”

My head popped up and my eyes focused on his face. I scrutinized his expression, searching for some sign that he was kidding. He stared back at me. There was nothing but sincerity in his eyes. I cleared my throat and looked down at the bill in front of me. I slid it closer to him and fixed him with a pointed look.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he said with a soft chuckle.

“Yup,” I said.

Mike threw a few bills onto the counter and waited for his receipt. I printed it up and handed it to him without a word. When he turned to leave I breathed a sigh of relief, but as he pulled the door open he turned back to face me.

“Listen,” he said. “I don’t know what your hesitation is, but we’re around if you change your mind. We just need a good mechanic. That’s all.”

“I hear you,” I said. “I’m just not interested, Mike. Nothing personal.”

“Alright.” Mike shrugged and stepped outside. The door swung shut behind him and I sunk down onto my stool. I put my head in my hands and breathed slowly.

I knew I had been rude. Mike was a good guy and a great customer. I’d known him for years, but he didn’t know me. Not really. He didn’t know that I’d spent years in a motorcycle club back in Phoenix or that it was the reason I moved to Mesa in the first place. He didn’t know that the club cost me my family, my life, everything. There was no way I could go back to that life. Not now. Not ever.

I checked the clock and saw that it was almost time for lunch. The boss would be here in a few hours and I wanted to make sure I was back before he got there. I stuck my head out into the shop and looked around for Jason.

“Jason!” I called. He ran around the corner quickly. “Hey, I’m getting lunch. Want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he said.

“Don’t touch anything while I’m gone,” I warned. He rolled his eyes and disappeared again.

I tried to push Mike’s offer out of my mind for the rest of the day, but it was no use. I replayed our conversation as I ate lunch and then, again, while I worked on the next bike. When the boss came in and waved a quick hello, I wondered what it would be like to leave this place for good.

Getting back into the life would be stupid. That much I knew, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would mean for me. More money. Less time working for someone who didn’t even ride. My cut on each bike would be bigger. A lot bigger. And I would have more freedom when it came to my work. I remembered the days of being in an MC like it was yesterday. At times, it was great. Better than great. It felt like home. Until it didn’t.

Once the illegal activities got going, I would already be too far in. I wouldn’t be able to get out. Not without a fight. My entire life would revolve around the club. I would jump when they said to. I would do whatever was asked of me, no matter how bad it was. I’d been there before. I’d lived that life. No amount of money or feigned freedom was worth that risk.

Shaking my head, I got back to work on the bike in front of me. It was bright blue and sporty. The guy who brought it in was a young kid. Probably college aged. I knew he hadn’t been riding long because everything about the bike screamed amateur. Not to mention the guy came in wearing a blue leather racing jacket that perfectly matched the bike. No doubt he bought it to attract chicks. I rolled my eyes at the thought.

I was almost done when I heard the sharp tap of high heels behind me. It was a familiar sound, but one I hadn’t heard in a long time. I turned around, my eyes narrowed against the sun. Claire walked up to me with a purpose. She stopped a few feet in front of me and waited for me to stand.

“Sean,” she said. I stood up and took a step backward. It was my instinct to put as much distance between us as possible.

“Claire Holland,” I said. “To what do I owe this honor?”

“Don’t do that,” she said.

“Do what?” I asked.

“Be sarcastic,” she said. “I’m not here to fight with you.”

“No?” That was even more of a surprise.

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’m here about Paisley.”

The name fell heavy on my ears. My stomach twisted into knots, and I shuffled my feet uncomfortably.

“How’s she doing?” I asked, finally dropping my defensive nature. Nothing could soften me like the mention of my daughter.

“She’s good,” Claire nodded. “Her birthday was last weekend.”

“I know,” I said. “I sent her a gift, remember?”

“We got it,” she said. “Thank you. She liked it.”

“I’m glad,” I said.

Claire and I stared at each other for a few seconds, neither of us speaking. I wanted to ask more questions about Paisley, but I kept my lips pressed tightly together.

“So, listen,” she said. She glanced down at the ground. “Paisley’s on summer break now and I put her in some camps. She’s really into swimming and art these days.”

“Art?” I asked quickly.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “She’s really good. She paints.”

I smiled to myself and said, “Camp sounds good.”

“I thought so,” Claire said. “But, I can’t afford it. I know you already sent the check for this month, but I was wondering if you could help me out with this? I don’t need a lot. Just a few hundred or so. They don’t need any more money for a couple weeks, but I won’t have it by then.”

When she finished she looked at me, her eyes darting around nervously. I knew she was afraid I would say no, that I would throw our past in her face and tell her to get lost. She should have known better, though. I never said no to anything when it came to Paisley.

“How much exactly?” I asked.

“Three fifty,” she said.

“Okay,” I nodded. “I can give you two now and I’ll send the rest next week.”

“That’s perfect,” she said. “Thank you.”