Authors: Dakota Knight

Biker Chick (4 page)

BOOK: Biker Chick

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We turned onto a residential street with shadowed modest houses lining each side of the street. When we turned into a nice one-story ranch, I couldn't hide my amazement. “This is yours?” I exclaimed.

Ray nodded. “I've got a mortgage and everything. I have my barber's license and I work at my boy's shop from time to time to keep the locals happy, if you know what I mean. I'm saving up 'cause I plan to buy more houses. It's just the beginning. I want to get houses in the hood and fix them up, give people something nice, you know.”

“Like they did with Maryland Heights?”

“Right.”

Ray parked in the driveway and turned off the engine. He grabbed me again and kissed me passionately. I let him take control. My mom had told me that a man always likes to be in control, especially when it comes to any and all things dealing with sex. I let him probe me deeply with his tongue, caress my breasts, and nibble on every piece of my unexposed skin. And when he reached underneath my dress to touch the core of me, I swear I creamed right there on his fingers.

“Do you know how bad I want you?” he asked, laying his head on my chest.

“Probably as bad as I want you,” I responded, basking in the bliss of the feelings he had aroused in me.

“When we go into my house, I don't know if I'll be able to hold back. I've been wanting you since the first time I saw you walking up to that store.”

“I don't want you to hold back. I want to feel all of your passion.” I caressed his shoulders.

“First things first,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the gift box he had given me earlier. “You have to open this before we go inside.”

I took the box. “Why?”

“Because I want you to know that this is a beginning and an end. From the first time I saw you, I knew you were the one. I've been thinking about you non-stop. Now that I have you, I want you to know that this is a beginning of a relationship with me and the end of the fear and sadness that has kept you from enjoying the things you love most. I want you to remember this day forever.”

I couldn't help the tears. As they flowed down my cheek, Ray wiped them away tenderly. I fumbled with the wrapping on the box, carefully taking it off because I wanted to keep it. When I felt the soft velvet under the wrapping, I thought Ray was giving me a ring. I looked up at him, my eyes wide.

“Open it,” he directed.

I opened the box. There was a key inside. It wasn't a house key, it was too long and narrow for that. I picked up the key and the metal was cool against my fingers. I held it up. My hand began to shake. “Is this what I think it is?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Ray reached for his garage door opener. “I always told myself that my one and only would have to ride beside me and not on the back of my ride.” He pressed the garage door opener. “Happy birthday.”

As the garage door opened, he got out of the SUV, and then came to the passenger's side. He opened the door, and reached out his hand to help me out. I was motionless, stunned. I didn't know if I could walk.

But I did.

Slowly. To Ray's garage. Inside, there was his motorcycle, a blue and gold Suzuki. But there was another steel. A steel with a big black body and chrome shining like a platinum sun. A graffiti-like silver painting of a fox was on the side and the front of the motorcycle. “You didn't,” I gasped in disbelief.

Ray stood behind me, his arms encircling my waist. “I did,” he said.

“But, this is a Ninja,” I exclaimed. “I can't ride a Ninja.”

Ray chuckled. “I'm going to teach you, Ma.”

I walked over to the Ninja, caressing its body, loving the feel. It felt like home, comforting and sure.

“When I saw this ride, I knew I had to get it for you,” Ray began. “And I also had the foxes painted on the body because you remind me of a fox, cunning and slick. And of course, your silver hair.”

“So you think I'm a silver fox, huh?”

“No,” Ray responded, coming to me and holding me close. “You're my silver fox.” He started kissing me again.

We didn't make it into his house for a long time. In fact, we barely got the garage door closed before the passion overtook us. We broke in my new steel without ever leaving the confines of the garage. And Ray was right, he didn't hold back. And neither did I.

Part Two

Growth

If you surround yourself with
people Lower than yourself
Be prepared to get dragged down.

âHighlights from The Hustler's Handbook

Believe in yourself first And others
will believe in you And follow you
wherever you lead them.

âHighlights from The Hustler's Handbook

Chapter Five

Life was the wish I wanted . . .

After our first night together, me and Ray were inseparable. We slept together, ate together, and bathed together. He taught me how to handle my Ninja, which I named Foxy Baby. He talked about his dreams of becoming a real estate mogul and I talked about my dreams of owning my own boutique. We both wanted to do it legit. Although I was living in bliss, I was so caught up in the mix, I didn't exactly realize I wasn't living right.

First, my mom tried to rein me in when she found out I missed a week of school. There was already friction between us because she decided that she “found Jesus” so she couldn't, in good faith, let me have any more purse parties. But what she really found was a new man, Gregory Fields. Now, he did attend church, and when Mom started going with him, she started making changes. I couldn't understand how that had anything to do with purse parties.

“You're just going to have to tell your clients to get the real thing from some mall somewhere,” Mom told me. “Or, you're welcome to have your parties somewhere else, although with you going to college, the only thing you need to focus on is your studies.”

Since I was eighteen, she didn't really get upset when I started spending my nights with Ray. She only told me that she was too young for grandkids. Well, and she also told me I needed to go to church with her. I couldn't do the church thing, but I understood her on the sex tip, and I made sure I practiced sex safely . . . for the most part. But missing school; that was something totally different.

What happened was . . . me and Ray went on a shopping trip to New York. It was a surprise really, something I wasn't looking for and didn't expect. Ray just came in one morning with two plane tickets and a wad of cash and was like, “Let's go.”

“But I haven't packed anything,” I said excitedly.

“We'll get everything we need when we're there,” he said.

By the time the sun set, we were walking along Times Square and ready for the nightlife. New York was everything I thought it would be and more. We took a tour of Harlem, and all I have to say is, I didn't know what a true hustler was until I went there. I was taking mental notes of all the action. We took the subway to a couple of places, which was cool because I had never been on a subway before. And, we went to Central Park and walked forever, talking about everything and anything.

“Black folks built this city,” Ray told me as we walked in Central Park.

“You trying to school me, soul brother?” I asked playfully as I leaned into his shoulder.

“I'm serious,” he replied. “I was reading this book and it talked about how blacks built the first fort and a lot of the buildings here. There's even a slavery burial ground here.”

“Damn, Ray, I didn't know you were interested in that type of stuff,” I said.

He stopped walking and faced me. “There's a lot you don't know about me,” his voice was deeper, sexier. “But there's a lot of time to learn.” When he lowered his head to kiss me, and my insides grew warm, I thought I would never be able to feel such bliss again.

Of course, we had to get new suitcases to pack all the stuff we purchased. Some of it was bootleg, but most of it was real. We had most of the good names, like Prada, Carolina, Callini, DKNY, Sean John, just to name a few. We even went to a couple of boutiques featuring up-and-coming designers and picked out a few threads. We had to show some support. After three days in New York, we were both so tired that we fell into the bed when we returned to Columbus. Ray didn't even try to get his nightly snack, if you know what I mean. When I woke up the next afternoon, he was already gone. I grabbed his pillow and inhaled the sent of him.
Damn, you a good man
, I thought as I prepared to get out of bed.

I couldn't go to New York without getting anything for Mom. She collected crystal (hence, my name), and I had found this Swarovski anniversary piece she had been trying to get for the longest. It was real too. After staying in the shower forever (that warm water was feeling good that day), I decided to go over to the house. I only had Foxy Baby and I didn't think a piece of crystal would survive the trip to the Heights, so I took a picture of the piece with my camera phone. I decided to dress light for my ride, so I threw on a pair of jeans and a tight black T-shirt with âFox' airbrushed in silver on the front. Five minutes later, I was in Ray's garage, revving up my steel, and preparing for the ride.

After enjoying the twenty minute ride, I was expecting Mom to be happy to see my smiling face. Instead, when I walked through the door, she looked at me with a frown on her face.

“What's up, Mom?” I asked happily. “You'll never guess what I got for you.”

She frowned again and lowered the volume on the television. She was watching her favorite show, Oprah, so I should have known she was about to trip.

“Why ain't your ass going to school?” Mom asked so loud I actually took a step back.

“What?” I asked, surprised. Like I didn't know I hadn't been to school in six days.

“Don't try to hustle me, Crystal Marie Sells. I got a call from Mrs. Phillips, so don't even think about lying.”

Damn
. Mrs. Phillips was my English teacher and nosey as hell. Since I couldn't lie my way out of it, I had to try a different approach.

“Mom, I'm a senior and I've passed my comps. Graduation is basically assured. Why should I have to go to school everyday if I don't want to?”

Mom jumped out of her chair. I fought the urge to grab the door and run. She stared me down and jabbed me in my chest. “Are you out of your damn mind?”

I knew better than to respond.

“You know, I told you when you turned eighteen that I would give you more freedom, but you've crossed the line by not going to school.”

My face started getting hot, and I felt tears forming in my eyes. But I wasn't going to start crying. Tears would have made Mom angrier.

“So, what do you have to say for yourself, Miss âI'm too smart to go to school'?”

I sighed. “I'm sorry.”

“That's it?” she yelled, jabbing me in my chest again.

No
, I thought. I actually wanted to say,
Mom
,
there's only a month and a half left of school
.
Like I just said, I know I'm going to graduate, so I'm not really pressed. But you're acting like it's the end of the world, even though you wouldn't have known anything if Phillips hadn't busted me. I'm an adult now. Could you just let me do my thing?

“Miss Thing, you setting yourself up for trouble. You and Ray are moving too fast, you need to slow down, graduate, and prepare for college.”

I sat down on the couch. “Mom, it's not like I'm failing anything. I have a 3.2 GPA. I don't think missing a couple of days is going to harm my graduation chances. Plus, Ohio State University is only twenty minutes away. I know I'm going, and Dad's money is taking care of it. What more is there to worry about?”

Mom sat down beside me. “What I'm worried about is you're young, you just turned eighteen and think you know everything when you don't. You've started riding a motorcycle, even though you know what happened to your father, and you're with a man who's making the same mistakes your father did. Life is too short to make mistakes that can affect everything. Look at your friend, Dymond; what's going to happen to her?” She shook her head.

Dymond had found out the month before that she was pregnant with Shadow's baby. “Dymond and Shadow are still together and making plans. She's graduating and thinking about going to get her cosmetology license. You know plenty people making real good money doing hair.” I knew I sounded defensive.

“And what about you, what do you plan to do?”

I hadn't really thought about it. I was entering college without declaring a major. I was so used to the hustle, but I knew they didn't have courses like Bootlegging 101 or How to Plan Your Own Purse Party. And even if they did, I already had my Ph.D. in those courses.

“Maybe I'll be a business major or something. I want to own my business, not work for somebody else.” I told her.

Mom buried her head in her hands. “Lord knows, I hope you make the right decisions. You have so many opportunities me and your father never had. You don't have to live here, Crys. I hope you know that.”

Mom, I'm basically in the burbs now
.
I'm going to keep moving up
. “Mom, I'm going to do the right thing, I promise you that,” I said sincerely.

“So, you're going back to school tomorrow, right?”

“Uhhh . . . I was really looking forward to the Macy's One Day Sale. I have to get in early to get the best deals.” I tried to sound like I was joking, but I was serious. I never missed a sale at Macy's.

“Crys! School . . . or you got to bring your ass back home.”

I finally felt like I could smile . . . and laugh.

“Dang, Mom, you running a tough ship! Okay, I'll go to school.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I'm already thinking about it.” I shook my shoulders in an exaggerated motion. “I'm so excited.”

“Girl, you know I'll find out if you're messing around.” Mom nudged my knee before rising from the couch and returning to her favorite leather chair. “You're making me miss Oprah.” She turned up the volume, but I couldn't let her tune me out just yet.

“Didn't you hear me when I first came in,” I said.

Mom pointed to the TV. “Oprah's on.”

“Mom, this is more important.”

“What?” she asked, not even bothering to look at me.

I took out my phone and pulled up the picture of the Swarovski anniversary piece, a crystal clown. “Guess what I have.”

She ignored me.

I had to take drastic measures, although I waited until a commercial came on to move. When I put my phone in front of her face, her scream could have actually broken the crystal already displayed in the house.

“It's legit too, Mom, so I don't want to hear any complaining.”

I could tell by the expression on her face that I didn't have to worry about a thing. She was so excited about her gift, I hoped I could get away with a couple more days of skipping.

“Oh, and if you think giving me some Swarovski means you don't have to go to school, you're oh so wrong.”

Too bad Mom can read minds
.

BOOK: Biker Chick

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