Two light taps on the door caused me to look up. I was currently getting ready for tonight’s CCB ride-out, in the bathroom in the guest bedroom. All my things were still in there, and I liked having a personal bathroom, even though I’d spent my nights in Dior’s bed over the last two weeks.
I glanced behind me to find my father standing there. “Hey, baby girl.” He greeted me with a grin.
I waved shyly, then closed the distance between us for a hug. After the conversation I had with Quadior in my studio, I was happy to see him. He embraced me with ease, and everything felt perfect in my world. “Hi, Daddy. You all good?”
He nodded once, tucking his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Tonight, he was wearing his CCB leathers, looking asdapper as ever. Even at his age, my father still had an aura about him that made you either fear him or trust him on impact. I was finally in my era where I could trust him, and it was such a freeing place to be.
“Yeah, I’m great. I came to check on you. You haven’t participated in a ride-out in a long time.”
When I was younger, I loved the biker culture and always rode with him to meetups and wherever else he’d allow me to go with him. The little girl in me who loved to ride was excited to feel the electric current that came from riding in a pack.
“I know, but I’m looking forward to it,” I admitted with a grin. I wasn’t sure what to wear tonight, so I went with high waisted leather pants and a bandeau top with a jaguar print on one side. For shoes, I was wearing a pair of black leather booties with a thick heel. It was a clear statement, knowing that a jaguar was the CCB mascot, and I was nervous to see Dior’s reaction. “How does my outfit look?” I asked my father shyly.
He gave me the sincerest grin. “You look beautiful, Harlo.” I saw the tears in his eyes before he even said the next part. “You look so much like your mother. I wish you got more time with her.”
His voice cracked a little at the end, and I genuinely empathized with him. Rushing toward him, I opened my arms for another hug, which he obliged. My mother, Sandra, was the love of his life, but unfortunately, she died from childbirth complications when she had Angel. I was only six at the time, but I remembered her never coming back home. One of the few things I remembered about her was that she loved to hum while she cooked or cleaned. Even sometimes when she put me to bed, she would lie beside me and hum. I used to always find that so comforting as a little girl.
After a few seconds, I released my father, and he gave me a smile. “Sorry about that. Sometimes I still get choked up, and it’sbeen twenty-six years since your mother’s been gone.” He shook his head like he was still in disbelief about it, before he changed the subject. “Anyway, come with me. I have something for you.”
Since I was ready for the night, I scooped up my fanny pack on the way out of the room. He led me out through the garage, where I saw a black and jaguar printed Honda CB650R waiting. The big red bow on the seat made it clear that it was a gift for me. My eyes bulged as I shrieked excitedly. I’d given my first bike, a GSXR 600, to Angel when I decided to leave this life behind me to build a new one.
“Oh my God, it’s perfect,” I said, rushing over to check it out.
I heard shuffling behind me and looked up to see Dior walking toward me. He looked so good dressed in black cargo pants and a distressed band T-shirt with metal spikes along the sleeve hems. Paired with his black CCB leather vest, he was matching my fly for the night perfectly.
His vest read president with Carolina Cutthroat Boyz underneath it. On the left side, his name was stitched along the bottom while the top read Solaire, South Carolina. I didn’t notice the extra vest in his hand until he lifted it toward me.
I accepted it so I could inspect it further. I gasped when I saw the official CCB insignia on the back, except instead of a black jaguar like everyone else, mine had a rosette spot just like my birthmark. It seemed like I was nervous about my outfit for no reason. Qua was basically telling me that I was gang because instead of the word president, mine read Ol’Lady.
I dragged my eyes up to him with a raised brow. “Oh yeah? That’s how you feeling?”
He closed the distance between us and wrapped an arm around my waist. “It is. What you got to say about it?”
I shook my head with a grin. “Nothing. Help me put my vest on.” He chuckled before stepping back to do exactly that. I loved the weight of it resting on my shoulders. In that moment, I knewI was exactly where I belonged, and to know I fought so hard against it really shook me to my core.
“Aight, let’s ride out,” Dior said, letting us know it was time to go.
I took the bow off my new bike and handed it to Dior. I didn’t know where he put it, because I was too focused on hopping on and starting my baby up after putting on my helmet. She purred to life, and I felt this peace flood my bloodstream I hadn’t felt in a long time. I thought I would be riding on the back of Quadior’s bike tonight, but clearly, they had their own plans.
Dior hopped on his matching 650, but his was black on black. Except when I eased up beside him, I saw there was a new detail on the body. There was a rosette patch that read Property of Harlo. I swore my fucking heart melted, seeing that. I barely had time to process it, though, because he revved up, then peeled out of the garage like a bat out of hell.
My father was already waiting for us up toward the start of the driveway on his old-school cruiser. I still remember when he switched from a sports model, saying he was too old for all that speeding. It was funny because how fast he used to drive was how he got the nickname Quick in the first place.
I jerked forward behind Dior, feeling a little rusty, but it only lasted a minute. By the time we hit the main road, the trees whizzed past me in a blur of green. My father and Dior took up positions on both sides of me as we raced through the streets of Solaire until we got to the Citgo off Richburg Ave.
I gasped when I saw how many bikes were out there tonight. This Citgo was known to be the car and bike meetup spot on the weekends. Tonight was no different, as all types of old-school ’Lacs, custom street cruisers, and the likes filled every space of parking lot there was. No one was pulling up here tonight for gas, and the owner knew that already. The various car and bike organizations all contributed a pot to pay him off for the night.That kept everyone happy, and these meets became a staple in the community.
I followed behind Dior, turning heads as people inspected our bikes. He pulled in the open space I was sure CCB left for us to park our bikes. After hopping off his bike, he walked over to help me off mine. He even took my helmet off for me, treating me like a little baby incapable of caring for herself. I didn’t mind. It was one of the ways Dior expressed his love.
He lifted his helmet and puckered his lips for a kiss. I obliged without a care or concern in the world. I heard my sisters squealing behind me and knew I would have to talk about the way things were progressing between Quadior and me at some point tonight. He smiled, backing away from me to put our helmets up.
I walked over to my siblings. Starting with Keem, I passed out hugs until I got to Lee at the end. I took up space beside her, then turned to check out the parking lot. There were a lot of people out here, and everyone was on the prowl. If you left alone, you were either ugly or had morals.
Keem came a little closer, so we were all in a classic Ransom Huddle. “So, you and Qua are pretty serious, huh?” he asked, cutting right to the chase. Hell, the way we’d stepped out tonight was anything but subtle, so he wasn’t wrong to assume as much.
I gulped, realizing I hadn’t considered how he might feel about this. Qua was his friend after all. Even though they were only three years older than me, back then, it seemed like a huge age gap between us. I didn’t know, maybe because they were boys and were into a lot of things the boys my age wasn’t.
“Yeah . . . You hate it?” I twisted to the side, waiting for the answer. Whatever his feelings might be, I would respect them, but I didn’t know if it would keep me away from his friend. He’d already gotten his claws deep down in me. I mean like deep . . .
