Fast Lane - Kristen Ashley Page 0,16

were gonna stay at.

Even Josh didn’t miss breakfast.

Band bonding.

Chicks came and went.

The band remained.

We’d do that for decades.

Except sometimes, one chick, who sadly came and went, would join us.

And only the first time she did would anyone have a problem with it.

I sat in that diner, though, gotta tell you, shaken.

It wasn’t Lyla.

It wasn’t Preacher.

It was maybe partly that I’d never seen that, the way my parents were.

I’d never seen anything that pure.

That right.

It was definitely that I saw Preacher holding a woman like he was holding Lyla.

I saw the look on his face before he looked to me.

Christ.

[Pause to swallow]

That look on his face.

I was glad he had that, feeling some relief, and not a little fuckin’ joy, a whole lot.

And it was that I wanted it for myself.

Just that.

What I saw Preacher had with Lyla

A woman asleep, cradled in my arms, trusting me in her vulnerability, tied up in me.

Holding me tight.

That started my quest.

I’d look for just that for years.

Goddamned years.

I thought I had it a couple of times.

I didn’t.

Until I found Natalie.

Jesse:

That morning, Tim, Tommy and Dave showed first at the diner.

Preacher showed with Lyla.

We can just say, this was not a popular decision.

Tommy was the most pissed.

But Tim was too.

It was a shock, nothin’ pissed off Dave.

But he was too.

I was, as you probably can guess, not.

You know what? Even if she had a bad attitude the night before, you just could not stay pissed at Lyla.

You just couldn’t.

It was impossible.

Preach saw it, that was one of the reasons, I figure, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

I didn’t.

Not until that morning.

She was fragile.

China.

[Off tape]

Is that how she got her nickname?

Yeah.

It wasn’t her deep-set eyes?

No.

[Firm]

No, it was not.

Josh didn’t show until later, after it all went down.

’Cause, see, Lyla was also not stupid.

Preach had kicked back, put his arm around her, lying it across the top of the back of the booth behind her, and was staring down the guys, but Lyla felt it.

So, she said something like, “I’m gonna find a payphone and call my friend to come and get me.”

Then he definitely said, “No, you are not.”

And then, you know, they haven’t known each other a day, they start bickering like they’ve been married for thirty years.

Quiet-like.

Lyla wasn’t a shrew. She didn’t raise her voice. She kept real calm almost all the time.

It was a gift.

And a curse.

And I’ll say, the way she talked back to him, I know I fell deeper, and I also know she was dragging the other guys in.

Then she says, “You know, Preacher, it isn’t all about what you want or what I want. Your friends want it to be just the guys.”

Well…

That was it.

[Hoots, shakes head, smiling]

Yeah, that was it.

Telling Preacher it wasn’t all about him?

[Hoots again]

Dave’s all “I think I love you and I’m buying you coffee.”

Lyla says, “I don’t drink coffee.”

I think Dave’s eyes bugged out of his head and that was the first, but not the last time he made it his mission to introduce Lyla to something that probably wasn’t good for her.

[Sobers]

We were all under her spell.

All that hair.

Those eyes.

Her quiet way.

Preach all sat back, relaxed, his arm around her in that big booth.

Yeah.

Bewitched.

She had coffee with us and thus began how it would be.

Lyla, eventually, was with the band a lot, as you know.

She sat at Preacher’s side, or whoever Preacher allowed her to prop up when they needed it.

But mostly, she sat at Preacher’s side because he never let on once he needed someone to prop him up.

I’d know a lot later he’d been listing for a really long time, in search of Lyla, the only woman on the planet who had the strength to stand at his side and prop him up.

She did not interfere with the band.

She never said dick.

She had no opinion…ever.

The band was the band.

She was Lyla.

Sometimes that came as Lyla and Preacher.

Sometimes that came as Lyla the muse of Preacher McCade and the Roadmasters.

Sometimes it came as Lyla being what Lyla was to each of us.

But mostly, it was Lyla, and Lyla didn’t so much as bang a fuckin’ tambourine for the Roadmasters.

Preach might try to drag her in.

Tommy did too.

And I’ll admit, there were times I did too.

She wouldn’t budge.

The band was the band.

And Lyla was Lyla.

And that morning, sippin’ her coffee to be nice to Dave who ordered it for her, it began.

She sat next to Preacher, silent, terminally pretty, totally clueless to the fact that every dude in the diner was checking