I’m trying to protect her. I don’t want anyone to harass her. She is strong and stubborn because she grew up without her mother and with a dad who taught her to speak up for herself and I admire every delicious ounce of Blakely even though she doesn’t realize that. I respect her enough to give her what she wants but keep her away from this world.
The shining lights may fool others, but notme. I have never been blinded to the point of no return by those opportunists who promise me the world and ditch me when a new toy enters the market. Or when a new scoop surfaces like a nosey little girl that may be onto someone.
I lost too many people to watch someone else’s life being railed over.
I’m the twenty-six-year-old faceless rider for a reason.
I light a smoke and gaze out the window.
Can someone quit an addiction in favor of another? I think my addiction to smoking all the time was my way to cope with things as unhealthy as it may sound, it is what it is. So I’m asking myself again, can I trade my addiction? Can I find another, a better addiction? The truth is addicts can’t quit out of the blue and stop for good, that itch to grab a smoke will never go away but when I find something that replaces it, I might trade one for the other. I have to keep myself busy and Blakely does that with flying colors and little devil horns. I don’t smoke that much when she keeps me occupied with her smart mouth and wicked eyes.
I don’t smoke that much when I ride and talk to bikers about my passion. Or when I spend time with my family and friends. Or when I help my parents.
Michael smoked since we were seventeen and quit when we turned twenty-two. Just like that. With no excuses. He said to himself he was done with it and that he was going to try, and he did. For three years he hadn’t smoked a damn cigarette, even hated the smell of them.
He was good at going all the way when he set his mindto something. He was good at being a shoulder I could lean on when everything closed in on me. After we lost everyone, and Rio left because he couldn’t handle it, my best friend was still there—I had Michael to lean on. Now I don’t have any of them.
They’re all gone. Jay, Kevin, and now Michael.
They are not here because someone else didn’t keep an eye out. Some people don’t care about bikers. They treat us like disposable things when we are people with families and friends. We belong to someone and we deserve to be treated equally.
This lifestyle does not make us subordinate compared to others.
He was one of my best friends, and will always be.
I hope you’re watching today, Micha, this upcoming win is dedicated to you.
“England, man, I’m dying to see you compete there this year. We can go and have a short trip before we go back home for the meetup.” Michael’s energetic voice envelops me like a revving sound.
I slouch on the couch of my apartment and reply, “My girlfriend will disagree with you.”
“Your girlfriend…” annoyance is written across his features.
“Micha…”
“I’m not saying anything but she’s not here for the right reasons and as your best friend I’m obligated to tell you this, I have your back and she doesn’t.” His hands move in all directions. “She will ditch you the first chance she gets. I hope she won’t snitch and tellthe media who you are.”
“My agent made her sign a contract so she can’t legally,” I reassure him.
“Do you love her?” he adopts that scrutinizing gaze he often has—the one that makes me anxious.
I swirl my tongue across my teeth, contemplating what should be an easy answer. But instead of just saying it, I stare at the floor and stay quiet.
“Meadow, there is someone out there who will set your world on fire and watch it burn with you hand in hand until the bitter end. I know how loyal you are but don’t settle for her, she doesn’t deserve you.”
I comb my fingers through my hair, craning my neck to the ceiling. “I’ll tell her to ship herself to space.”
He shoots me his deadpan expression, “You’re an idiot.”
We chuckle together.
“I only say this because you’re my brother and I love you a tiny bit, not much, but enough.”
“I know,” I nod to myself as I stare through the window of the hotel, watching the darkness of the night blanketing the city’s luminescent streets, “Love you, brother.”
There is something that I wanted to do for a long time and I feel like it’s time. I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Lenny. She picks up immediately and we chat briefly, laughing a bit before I ask her what I wanted all along.
I tuck my phone between my shoulder and my ear while I organize the content inside my duffel bag on the bed. “The reason I called was that I wanted to ask you—how did youmove on after your brother passed?”
