Authors: Kerri Ann
The cops had the place cleaned, and seeing neither of us wanted to go back to that room of ill repute and badass memories, we were sleeping in the spare room.
A lawyer showed up a week or so into him being home and brought Jack’s will. It seemed that Jackson Capello was a smart cookie. He’d invested money way before he’d bought that shop, and had continued to do well in the markets even after. Plus, the shop was owned free and clear by him, and not one stitch of it was bought and paid for with blood money. He was legit and legally the owner of Jack’s Autobody and Restoration. And he’d left it, and everything to Ryker. It was with a proviso that he not sell any of it for at least ten years — but it was all Ryker’s. Jack’d set aside enough to cover it in the chance that Ryker hadn’t dealt with finances correctly, and he’d made sure that the government that he’d upheld all along couldn’t take a single penny from him once he was granted it. Not to mention the letter that was personally addressed to Ryker. I’ve never read it, and I don’t plan too, but it seemed to have given Ryker a bit of peace. He can say Jack’s name and not do it with seething disgust.
So for the past five years, Ryker and I have rebuilt the place. There’s no chop shop, no mafia, no guns, no drugs and no girls — and definitely no chains on the desk. I hated that room and had it destroyed immediately. We now employ fifty staff of painters, body men, metal fabricators and various general technicians that make some of the best damned custom cars and bikes in America.
I may not have known how to care for Creature back then, but now, I can tell you all the parts of a car, and I can even pick out a headlight from a fifty Ford vs a forty-seven.
It’s amazing how my life changed. How it went from hiding out in rural hick town Oxford Miss, to being a part of the community. I’ve been helping it grow, and became a crucial part in someone’s life other than my own.
“Boys. It’s almost time, let’s get everything ready to show.” I tell them as I pass through the shop towards the front. “Mitch, you finished on that T-bird harness?”
He wipes his hands on a rag, showing off those brilliant tattoos of his and smiles as he nods. Still a man of few words.
Passing into the office, I stop and ask where we’re at. “Lacey, tell Carlo, Ryker will have it out on time. Let Horny know his T-bird is almost ready to rock too. Close up the front and let’s make some magic happen hon’.”
“Yes ma’am. You taken yours, or is ya’ goin’ with Mr Lusi?” She’s new and doesn’t understand the dynamics.
“This is my show sweetheart, and we’re doing it proper. I’m in mine.”
“Oh, by the way Karen came by and picked up Janie. She’s already out on the route.”
“Thanks,” I say as I grab my keys and start for my newest beast. “I’ll see you out there.”
An hour later. “You ready love?” Ryker whispers in my ear, so close that my body shakes and shivers. It knows him intimately from top to bottom and I can’t wait to take him home tonight.
“Yeah, I’ve been itchin’ to do this for weeks. Go get yours, I’ll be ready.” He steps out of the garage towards his custom built Harley Fatboy, and as I’m watching him walk, it’s poetry in motion. I love the cut of his waist, the hard lines of his trim chest, that taut ass that I’ve pinched on more than one occasion, and that semi erect cock that springs forth at a moment’s notice. I can’t get enough of him, and he shows me how much he needs me every single day. I never thought this could happen — happiness, but it’s here and I’m not letting it go.
Ryker took on his adopted name Lusi after the whole fiasco. No more Mason and no more bad memories. We aren’t married but even if we do, it won’t change our names. It’s funny really. I avoided the name for so long because of the connotations, but now I’m glad to be associated with Carlo and Ryker. At some point we’ll make it official, but for now we’re good as it stands.
I take a step outside the building to see the progress of everything. Today is a massive event for us. The camera crew is poised to take in the whole spectacle, and I’m the starter. This is the inaugural start of the ‘
Men of the Metal
’. Our very own show about custom builds, and the crazy antics that come about when you get this much testosterone in one building. It’s been a long haul getting here, but we’ve deserved every bit of the accolades that have come our way. Ryker has a keen sense of what looks good, what sounds good, and what will inevitably be a pure masterpiece of muscle.
“Are you ready Ms. Lusi,” the head of the crew asks. I think his name is Geo.
“Yeah, I’m good. Where do you want me to be?”
“Just over at your car is fine. We’ll get you to say the lines, then you get in and pull ahead of the others in the row.”
“Nod when you want me to start.” I’m nervous and decidedly so. This is so far out of the realm of the old me, that it’s still a bit daunting. I’ve gradually become relaxed and at ease around new people. Anyone who was involved from town I’m alright with, but I still have a problem letting go sometimes.
“Mommy!” I turn as Janie comes tearing across the yard from Harvester, totally oblivious to everything going on. Bending down I pick her up, swinging her in for kisses.
“I thought you were with Karen and Gus. Why are you out here, young lady?”
“That’s my fault.”
“Yeah, Unc’ Carl said it was ok for me to come see you before the ‘cho.” I have the hardest time saying no to either of these two.
“I thought you weren’t coming?”
He smiles, takes Janie from me, kisses me on the forehead and hugs us in tandem. “What and miss this? Not a chance. I wouldn’t miss the best thing to happen to you and Ryker. This is big. And don’t worry, I’ll take care of hellfire. You go have a good time.”
“Thanks. See you at the end? You are coming for the party after right?” I ask as I step towards my car and the start of it all — the new show, the new fame we’ll have to deal with nationwide, and if it all pans out like I think it will, all the extra overhead and work that will go into it being a success.
“Of course. I have to leave in the morning, but I wouldn’t miss the hangover for anything.”
The producer comes over to me to signal that we’re about to start. Carlo yells over my daughter's shoulder to ‘break a leg’ and I feel the rush of excitement.
The producer tells everyone to cut their engines with a signal. They all wait for the command to start back up. Looking to me, the camera man and two of the guys stand by with lighting. Now it’s my turn. With a cue from the producer, I take a deep breath and pull out all the southern charm that I can.
“Mullets to moonshine, bayous to backyards. Down here in the south, we don’t do it small.” I step to my door, open it like I was instructed and smile. I step in, grin sideways for the camera then say the rest. “So come on down to Mississippi. We’ll get your motor running with the
Men of the Metal
.”
That’s the cue. Everyone starts up their cars, bikes and custom rods that were lined up and down the street in front of the shops. The camera crew is been set up on every rooftop, to get the best angles as we take our inaugural custom show n’ shine ride down the streets of Oxford, Mississippi.
I’m proud of what we’ve done in the years since everything happened, and not just with the shop, but with family. Carol, Carlo, Gus, the boys in the shop, and people like Horny, and the Sheriff are all family now.
Janie will grow up to have a loving environment, the likes of which neither Ryker or myself truly had. She won’t be coddled like a princess, but she’ll be spoiled like one, so when the boys come knocking in years to come, they better be ready to take a lickin’ from her daddy and Unc’ Carl. They protect their own fiercely.
The crew gives the nod for us to start moving and I’m more than happy to oblige. My custom Rat rod that Ryker saved the parts for is a darlin’. She is the best little shot up, beat up and blemished car on the road. And she’s mine.
She has the wounds like I do, leftover from that day, and it’s given her a unique character that I wouldn’t change an ounce of.
I wouldn’t change an ounce of mine either because it brought me Ryker.
With an avaricious appetite for stories, Kerri Ann can be found quite often with her nose in a book or writing it. On many occasion it has been said that she's in her own world, living in the stories of those she reads about, giving them a life they deserve.
She can easily be found under a tree in the shade, or reclining at Starbucks scribbling notes about new stories and new characters, while keeping the coffee chain in business.
Whether late at night, at a music festival, or sitting on a ski lift, when the thoughts arise Kerri will add them to those in progress. So be wary, you could be next.
This is her first self published book and she hopes you enjoy reading it as much as she enjoyed writing it.
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