Biker Chick (22 page)

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Authors: Dakota Knight

BOOK: Biker Chick
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Chapter Thirty-Two
The darkness gave way to the light . . .
“D
ad, why do you like Harleys?”
“Best damn ride in the world, that's why.”
“
Will you get me one?
”
“Girls ain't meant to ride Harleys.”
“I can ride whatever I want.”
“I don't doubt that.”
“I had a Ninja. Rode like the wind. I loved that ride, but . . .”
“But what, baby?”
“I don't know if I like it anymore. I guess, if I can ride with you, it'll be okay.”
“Baby, you ain't ready to ride with me yet. We got to travel in different directions.”
“Why?”
“Cause that's how it got to be, for now. I'll be around for you when you're ready.”
“I want to go with you.”
“Not yet, baby, not yet.”
“Crystal?”
My name was a question. The voice was familiar. When I heard it, I imagined that I was dreaming. Or dead.
“Crys, honey, you awake?”
My eyes fluttered. The light made me squint. Hazy figures hovered above me. I felt . . . stiff. I strained to move. I felt like I was trapped in a vice. I tried to move my arms and legs, but . . . it was almost as if they weren't there. I strained to move my neck, but I couldn't. All I could move was my eyes. I blinked rapidly.
“Praise be to God,” the familiar voice said. “She's waking up.”
The light began to spread thin. I blinked again, until I could finally see Mom clearly. My eyes shifted to the man that stood beside her. I didn't remember his face or his name. I wanted to speak, but I couldn't. There was something in my mouth. My lips moved around it, but I couldn't force it out.
“Crys, it's Mom, blink if you can hear me, honey.”
I blinked. I tried to move again. I couldn't feel anything. I looked down the length of my body. I could make out the outline of my feet under the bed sheet. I stared at the outline.
Move dammit
, I thought as I tried to move my toes. They obviously weren't listening to my mental instructions.
Another figure came into view. A woman in with a blue shirt. She hovered over me. I heard a tapping sound. “I'll have Doctor Idriss come in and have a look,” she said.
Another tapping sound. My eyelids felt heavy. I tried to keep them open, but I couldn't. My world grew dark again.
“Dad, I don't think I'll be able to ride anymore.”
“Why's that?”
“I think I heard someone say that.”
“And you're going to listen to someone tell you what you can and can't do. That doesn't sound like the girl I know.
“I do want to ride.”
“Then you will.”
“But if I can't, will you still love me?”
“Always baby, always.”
I gasped for air. My eyes flew open. I inhaled deeply, and exhaled through my mouth. My mouth! I squeezed my lips together. The tube that had been stuck down my throat was gone. I moved my tongue around. “Mom,” I said. It didn't sound like my voice. In fact, the word itself didn't sound real. I spoke again. I sounded better, but my throat began to hurt. I realized that I was alone.
I closed my eyes and inhaled again, this time picking up the fragrance of flesh flowers. I opened my eyes and looked around the room, and saw an array of flowers near the window to my left. Needles of pain prickled through me.
My neck
! I thought as I shook my head slowly from left to right.
I can move my neck
! I wanted to say, but the pain in my body intensified. Instead of speaking, I screamed. I kept screaming. I heard a door swing open. The woman with the blue shirt returned.
I looked at her wildly as my body because to convulse and shake. She moved around me rapidly. I heard the tapping sound again. Almost immediately, the shaking stopped. The pain disappeared. I felt sleepy again.
 
“We all got to go through pain sometimes, baby, it's what let's us know we alive.”
“But why do people hurt each other?”
“I can't answer that one, baby.”
“Did you ever hurt Mom?”
“Physically? Never. But I'm sure I hurt her feelings before.”
“Did she forgive you?”
“Yep. That there is a good woman. She stuck by me, and I know that was hard to do.”
“Do you still love her?”
“Always. I hope she's happy now.”
“I think she is.”
“Well, baby, I gotta go.”
“Can't you stay longer? I've missed you.”
“Naw, I can't stay. I hate to leave you, but we'll see each other again.”
“Promise?”
“I sure do.”
“I love you, dad.”
“I love you, too.”
 
Someone was holding my hand. Even before I opened my eyes, I knew it was Mom. I smiled first, just to see if she was looking at me.
“Crystal? You awake?”
I smiled wider and tried to speak. “Hi, Mom.” My voice was only a whisper. My throat felt raw.
Mom looked toward the ceiling and said, “Thank you, Lord. Thank you,” before she focused on me. “Honey, I'm so glad you're awake, let me get you some water.”
She reached over to the tray table next to my hospital bed and reached for a cup with a long straw sticking out of it. She positioned the cup next to my head and turned the straw until it reached my lips. “Take a sip for me.”
I sucked on the straw, swallowing the cool liquid. I took another sip and then pushed the straw out with my tongue. “What happened?” I asked. My voice was still a whisper, but at least my throat didn't feel as raw.
Mom was never one to hold back. “There was an accident. A car slid into you while you were on your bike, honey.” Her eyes shifted to the sky again and welled with tears. “Thank God you had that helmet on or . . . or . . .” She didn't finish.
“I'm okay, Mom.” I tried to comfort her. With a great deal of will, I moved my hand until it was covering hers.
“They didn't think you'd make it. You were in a coma for three days.” Her voice cracked and tears poured onto her cheeks. “I was in that chapel praying to God, asking him to forgive me for leaving you here by yourself. Lord knows I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“I think He heard you, Mom,” I said. “I really do. I think He sent Dad to look after me for a while.”
Mom's eyes widened and she beamed. She clasped her hands together, saying, “Thank you, Jesus.” Her faith was comforting to me. “Honey, God has blessed you. You still have a long road to travel, but I know you'll be okay.”
She bent down and hugged me. I struggled to reach out to her, but I was still stiff. At least I could feel my arms again. My legs too. As Mom continued hugging me, her tears turning into sobs, I thought of Dad again. And for the first time in as long as I could remember, I thanked God too.
Chapter Thirty-three
And I knew there was a chance for happily ever after . . .
Six months later
Mom told me that sometimes, you have to give one life up in order to start fresh. I don't think that's entirely true. I learned that you can start fresh even when you keep the best parts of your past. It was a hard lesson to learn, but it was a valuable one to keep.
As a result of my accident, my left leg was badly fractured and my right ankle was broken. I'll be the first to admit that there's nothing worse on this earth than physical therapy. My therapist, Jenny Yarborough, would move me into positions I never thought possible. When I protested, she asked me if I wanted to walk straight again. I answered, “Yes, of course.” And she responded, “Then get that butt in gear!”
After six months, I was doing much better, but I still had a long way to go. One thing I never expected was to use my crutches to walk down the aisle. That's right,
the aisle
! It wasn't for me though. My girl, Dymond, was the bride.
At first, I didn't think I could do it. But I could not pass up the chance to wear a Vera Wang gown, even if it was the maid of honor's dress. I worked those crutches hard as I moved toward the altar. The bridesmaids were already standing in line, waiting patiently for me. Everyone knew it would take me a long time, but I was determined to make it, and I did, in more ways than one.
 
 
Dymond had finally come to visit me about a month after the accident. She had already sent flowers and we had talked on the phone, but the visit was something entirely different. She didn't even get through the door of my condo before we both started wailing like babies. Mom, who had come from California, had been staying with me since the accident. Her husband, Gregory, had also stayed for a while, but he had to return to Alameda to work.
Mom told me that she had been keeping tabs on me the entire time she was in California. Mrs.
Judy Phillips, my former teacher, had kept her updated and had been the one to contact her after my accident. “I could never truly leave you, honey,” Mom had told me, “I don't want you to think I ever really left you.” All had been forgiven on that front.
My den had been converted to my bedroom so I wouldn't have to climb any stairs. After our tears, Dymond sat down and began to tell me everything. She didn't want to at first, but I convinced her I needed to hear it. I had to know everything she knew about Ray and Lala.
They had met at a party about one month before I met Ray. It had been a one night stand thing then. Lala had been so embarrassed that she tried to avoid him when I first saw him at Cam's. That, I told Dymond, I had figured out. Dymond had told me they hadn't had sex again until a couple months before he was arrested. They had met at the Doll House and somehow ended up at a hotel.
“I think they both got caught up, Crys. When Lala told me, she felt horrible about it.”
I smacked my lips and said, “Yeah, right.”
But Dymond was serious. She told me that Ray knew he had done wrong too, and that's when he decided to get out of the Cruz. It started with the beat down, and then there was the stint in jail. Finally, he had to pay his way out . . . the money he had hidden under the sink was just a portion of what he had to pay. He had been saving up to pay the total amount to cut all ties, two hundred thousand dollars.
“I can't believe you didn't tell me,” I said. “You should have told me.”
“But it was over, girl, and what would it have led to? It would have been different if it was still going on, but it was over, and I could tell that Lala really regretted it. Plus, when I learned that Ray was trying to go on the straight and narrow, I thought it was better to let bygones be bygones.”
I wish I was a better person. I could forgive Dymond, because I truly believed her intentions were pure. But Ray and Lala . . . it would take more than I'm sorry. It would take more than a lifetime of “forgive me.”
In order to make a fresh start, I had to cut some ties. After much thought and consideration, I decided that I couldn't return to the Doll House. There were too many ghosts there. Monchats had called me personally to check up on me. When I told him off my future plans, he seemed shocked, but told me business was business. “Do what you have to do,” he said. What I had to do was give up the entire Biker Chick operation. And like a member of the Cruz, I had to pay a hefty price to Monchats to secure my freedom. Even with the payout, I still had a lot of money left in the bank. The payout was less than two hundred thousand, and worth every cent.
I have to admit, I felt a tinge of pride when I found out that business was booming for the Biker Chick line. Ginger had taken my place. She deserved it. The calendars were a success, and the prints were doing just as well. The Doll-house even started a major ad campaign featuring the club's exotic dancers. I heard that some of the girls decided to buy their own rides. I couldn't wait to see them riding down the street on their steels. I can't lie, I missed it sometimes. But I knew I had to forge a new path.
One month before Dymond's wedding, I began classes at the Ohio State University. I wanted to get a degree in sales and marketing. It was perfect major for a hustlette like me. I was older than most of the students in my classes, but that was okay. I had to start somewhere. I knew Mom was proud. And somewhere, up there, Dad was smiling down at me.
As for Lala, Dymond told me that Monchats had relocated her to a club in New York. I haven't seen her since that fateful night at the Doll House. She still traveled, too, and to hear Dymond tell it, she was as popular as ever. I thought I would hate Lala, but my feelings of anger began to subside after time let me focus. Lala had lived a fucked up life. That didn't excuse her actions, but all of us have fucked up in life one way or another. Maybe I could forgive her . . . someday.
As for Ray, he's been trying to contact me. He called me collect a couple of times, like I was really going to take his calls, and he also sent me some letters. I haven't opened them yet. I know I'm not ready to deal with him yet, but I know one day I will have to face him. I still have the money he hid underneath the sink that I took on the day I was forced from our home. I never spent a dime of it. And I never will. He will be getting out soon, and I know he'll want it. Maybe I'll have Dymond deliver it to him so I don't have to see his face.
 
 
I finally made it to the altar. There were a few claps as I moved into position. The music started and Dymond began walking down the aisle with her mother. She looked absolutely radiant. I scanned the crowd of family members and well wishers until I found the person I was looking for. Tristan Grant winked at me. I replied with a smile. We had reconnected at Jam-Book-Ree! He was shocked when he learned that I worked there. That's right, Crystal Marie Sells, hustlette from the Meadows, now working it out at a bookstore. We weren't really dating. I wasn't ready for that. But I didn't want to attend Dymond's wedding alone.
As Dymond and Shawn began reciting their vows, I thought about my future. I thought about the day when I would no longer need crutches. Someday when the weather was warm and the sun was shining. I would have a new ride, another Ninja, Black and chrome. The riders on the street would know me as Silver Fox, the lady that rides like the wind.
Yeah, the future looks bright. And even though I know the days won't always be sunny, as long as I know that one day I will be able to rev up my steel, straddle it like it was my man, and ride it without a care in the world, I know I'll always be okay.

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