thing I need is my brains scattered on this back country road.
Riding used to be my relief from everything, but now it’s just a time for my mind to work overtime. I go through every single interaction Mandy and I have ever had, wondering if there’s something I could have done. Maybe something I could have spotted before it got too dangerous, but try as I might, I can’t find fault in anything I did.
A voice screams loudly, that’s the problem. I never find fault with myself.
But it’s not true, I find plenty of fault with the shit I’ve done. Just not where she’s concerned lately.
The lights of Bowling Green can be seen as I come down Porter Pike and turn onto Duntov Way. The concrete is creeping farther and farther out. Progress and change, they’re supposed to be good. That’s what they all say, anyway. But there’s an underbelly to progression - a haze to change. It all has to come from somewhere, but no one ever wants to know the price we pay for it.
Parking my bike at the gas station across from Wet Wanda’s, I take my helmet off, flip up my collar to ward off the wind, and then hurry inside. It’s quiet in here, almost too quiet.
“What’s up, Robbie?” I wave at the night clerk.
She used to be a dancer at Wet Wanda’s but found her way out of the business. I stalk to the cooler, grabbing an energy drink. When I look back at her, I realize she didn’t wave, which she always does. She didn’t ask about Mandy, didn’t inquire about how Walker’s feeling.
Immediately I’m on edge. Our eyes meet and I see the absolute fear in hers. Glancing up, I squint to focus on the mirror behind the counter. There’s a man, dressed in all black, and he’s got a knife in his hands. Now I’m fucking pissed. You don’t pull this shit. Not in our territory.
“So Walker’s doing better,” I continue the one-sided conversation. “Said he hates the damn medicine they gave him, but it’s grape flavored, so I’m like dude, how could you hate it? We didn’t have that shit when I was a kid. Fever broke the other day, and I finally got a good night’s sleep, ya know?”
She says something softly, acknowledging me as I slam my energy drink on the counter. “Pack of Marlboro Reds too, hard pack.” I throw a twenty down, waiting for her to turn and get the cigarettes.
The one thing that made me stop in here tonight.
Once she’s far enough away, I reach down and over, grabbing the guy crouched on the other side by the ski mask he has covering his face, bringing it hard against the wooden counter. He screams, blood pours everywhere.
“You broke my fucking nose!”
“You’re lucky I don’t break your dick.” I grab his belt, tossing him onto the floor. “This woman,” - I point back at Robbie - “is a good woman. She works nights here for her kids. To make a better life for them, not for some methed out fucker like you to come in here and rob her.”
He’s gaping at the blood still pouring from his mask. “I wasn’t gonna hurt her.”
“You had a knife.” I point to the discarded blade, laying on the floor.
His blue eyes come to mine, and he makes a dive for it, but I’m quicker than him. I kick it out of the way, then shove my boot onto his throat. “Give me a reason to break your neck, man. I’ve had a really fucking lousy couple weeks. I’d love nothing more than to take it out on you.”
“Let him go,” Robbie says softly from behind the counter. “I think he learned his lesson.”
“Did you?”
He nods, inhaling deeply when I lift my foot off him. It’s almost comical - how fast he runs away from me.
“Are you okay?” I ask her, walking back over to the counter.
She’s got her hands on it, inhaling and exhaling slowly. “Yeah, I’m just trying to calm my heart down. He came in here right before you showed up, and I didn’t know what to do.”
“You did the right thing. If you can’t overpower them, you always do what they ask you to until you can get the jump on them. I didn’t mean to make a mess.” I indicate the floor and the counter.
“It’s fine.” She waves her hand. “I’m texting the manager and telling her I’m taking a few days. They can look