Page 90 of Money Shot

I stood and stared, half shocked she was so brash. It seemed almost out of character. If I was the type of man to be attracted to someone based on looks alone, she would definitely work for me. She was drop dead gorgeous, had a fabulous body, but it seemed odd hearing her say what she was saying, because she was so damned beautiful.

“How many’s that leave?” she asked.

“Vince?” Jackson said.

I reluctantly stepped to the front and stood with my arms crossed in front of my chest.

“What’s your road name?” the girl asked.

I pointed to my patch. “Vince.”

She started laughing. “That’s your road name?”

Why you little bitch.

“Yep. Name’s Stephen. They call me Vince,” I said.

“You qualified?” she asked.

It was all I could do to keep from smiling. As my mouth curled into a smirk, I responded. “Look, I came up here after Slice showed us your pic at the bar. Thought you were a cute little fucker. Seem a little crazy for my taste now that I’m here.”

She stood and stared, and after a moment, her face washed over with concern. I hated to make her feel bad or that I felt like she was unattractive or something, so I tried my best to make her feel better. “I ain’t lookin’ to add a bunch of drama in my fucking life. Shit, I just got rid of an Ol’ Lady for bein’ a drama queen. Well, that and a whore. Nice to meet ya, though.”

She placed her hands on her waist, cocked her hips to the side, and glared. “I’m not a whore, and I’m not crazy. I’m just some chick that loves bikes, appreciates the freedom of riding, and appreciates one-percenters for being who they are. I’m a lot of fucking fun, really.”

It was apparent she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “What’s a one percenter mean to you? Who am I?” I asked.

“Well, being an outlaw. Fuck the man, fuck society. Riding isn’t a fucking hobby, and it’s not really a way of life, it is life. You see that mountain bike outside?” she asked.

I tilted my head toward the door. “Chained up by the door?”

She nodded her head. “I rode that motherfucker six miles here instead of taking a ride in a cage.”

I nodded my head. “Is that so,” I asked.

She cocked an eyebrow and stared. “So…”

“We’ll go for a ride or something,” I said. “I’ll be back, don’t worry.”

She nodded her head.

“How long you gonna be?” I asked Jackson.

“Gimme ten,” he said.

“Come on, fellas,” I said as I turned toward the door.

We walked outside, stood beside the entrance, and waited. As I leaned against the wall and joked with the fellas about the girl with the purple hair, Jackson walked out.

“Give us a minute, would ya?” he asked the other four men.

They nodded their heads and each got on their bikes.

“So, you think she was pretty?” he asked.

I nodded my head.

“Why didn’t you take her for a ride?” he asked.