The night ride was just what Isaac needed. Jeremy would be smiling down on him now as he wound his way along country backroads in Devil’s Run among men who loved motorcycles the way he and Jeremy had. But Isaac had to admit, rides like this also made him miss his brother even more.
He was relieved when they finally reached the bar, ready to drink away the pain. Especially if he had to play counselor to this club member they called Bix.
The dive was busy and loud, and their group was greeted by other Steel Warriors. Isaac was taken into the fold as if he were a full-fledged member. He was fully aware of his place on the fringe, a place he occupied only when invited as he had been tonight. But he accepted the relationships for what they were.
He found Bix and formally introduced himself by offering his hand. “Isaac,” he said. “But the guys call me everything from Wrench to Wingnut.”
“The mechanic.” Bix was a young guy in his late twenties, but he had a look about him that made him seem far older. A look that spoke of trauma and pain, of having stared into the abyss. Isaac had seen that abyss when Jeremy committed suicide. He recognized the devastation Bix now wore as a dark, blank expression. “I heard you lost your brother.”
Bix’s directness reminded Isaac of Jeremy and twisted the knife in his chest. “Guilty,” Isaac said. “I hear the same happened to you.”
“Not blood brothers—”
“But brothers nonetheless.”
“Absolutely.”
Isaac nodded. “Let’s get a drink and find a place to talk.”
When Bix agreed, Isaac moved toward the bar. He turned to face the crowd, punched a fist into the air, and yelled, “Listen up. First round’s on me.”
Cheering ripped through the bar, and Bix cracked his first smile, making Isaac feel like the big brother he should have been for Jeremy.
When he turned back to grab his own drink, his eyes fell on a blonde sitting three stools away.
Money was the first thought to cross his mind. A slew of others followed, but they all culminated into one realization: she was slumming. Big-time. Everything from her fat blonde curls to the rhinestones on her black thigh-high boots screamed old money from Greenwich or new money from Manhattan. A redhead sat with her. She wasn’t quite as flashy in ripped jeans, a tank, and ankle-high, spiked boots, but she was still just as striking and just as much of a misfit.
Little upper-crust princesses looking for escape from their castles.
The thought curled Isaac’s lip. He purposely focused on the bartender. “Jager and Coke.” He pulled his wallet and offered a credit card. “For the round.”
The two guys sitting between Isaac and the women thanked him and abandoned their stools in favor of a couple of trashy biker chicks. Isaac watched the bartender whip up drinks, his mind drifting back to his other life. Life before Jeremy’s death. He needed to make time to stop by the house and see his parents.
“Does that round include us?” The blonde’s voice caressed Isaac’s ear. Sweet, conciliatory, pleasant. Her tone and her voice spoke of manners and breeding.
He turned his gaze toward the women. The blonde had her elbow on the bar, her chin propped in her hand, and openly stared at Isaac with pretty sky-blue eyes. He looked through her flirty smile, and a memory pinged in Isaac’s brain.
He leaned his elbow on the bar. “You look…familiar.”
Her
smile grew. “If I tell you the same, could I get you to buy me a drink?”
Isaac glanced at the bartender. “Include the ladies, please.”
“Ladies,” she said, drawing out the word. “Refreshing. Babe, hot mama, and sweet thing were getting old.”
She moved to the stool beside Isaac. She smelled like cool breezes in a field of wildflowers. He narrowed his eyes on her. Definitely familiar. If he was right about Greenwich, it wouldn’t be a stretch for their paths to have crossed.
“I’m Ava.” She offered her hand.
The gesture struck him sideways. As did the name. Ava. Ava.
“I’d forgo the drink to get to know you.”
Her words brought Isaac back, and he found her hand still extended. He took it, surprised to find her shake solid and confident. “Ava. Ava…?”
“Yes, Ava.” She pulled her hand from his, ignoring his request for her last name.