Jeremiah by Kris Michaels
Chapter 14
Eden gripped onto Jeremiah’s hard, muscled core as they rounded another corner, bringing them to the junction that would take them to Rapid City or the other direction further into the Hills. He turned left, which surprised her.
“Where are we going?” she shouted into his ear, her borrowed helmet clanking against his.
“It’s a surprise!” She groaned, knowing that he wouldn’t hear it, but by now he’d know she was doing it. Surprises were cool as long as she was the one surprising people. Not knowing what was in a package or what plans he’d put in place for the day drove her crazy. Surprises always had.
The sun baked her shoulders, and she thanked the SPF 50 she was wearing for doing its job. Jeremiah wore a t-shirt with a low scooped neck and no arms. On him… holy moly, the things that shirt did to his chest and abs defied logic. He’d applied sunscreen too because he didn’t want his tattoos to fade.
They’d spent a lazy morning in bed last weekend talking about each of his tattoos. They were personal memorials to his grandparents, and the one that snaked around his arm and claimed a spot on his neck was a reminder. He’d downplayed the incident. She leaned against his back and recalled the conversation.
“What is this guy all about? He’s pretty in a scaly reptile kind of way.” Eden traced her finger over the snake’s scales.
“He is my reminder, my warning to myself.” Jeremiah shrugged as if it was no big deal.
“A reminder of what?” She lifted onto her elbow and stared down at him.
He drew a deep breath and let it out before he looked at her and answered, “A handful of years back, an inmate attempted to kill me and an FBI agent while we were questioning him. That was a wake-up call for me, and this guy is my reminder that there are dangers lurking and I need to protect myself and those I care about.”
“He’s important then.”
“Very.”
“What have you done to make sure you’re never in that position again?” She laid down and he rolled to face her.
“Lots of things. I wasn’t a ninety-pound weakling, but I put on about fifty pounds of muscle. I found an MMA gym and I’ve advanced enough that no one wants to spar with me.” He smiled. “That is an accomplishment.”
“So, you can kick butt and take names, huh?”
“I can. I won’t be a victim again.” He leaned in and kissed her. “But I don’t want to talk about that anymore.”
She sighed. He was a master at diverting her questions about his time working at the prison. And he usually diverted her with sex. She needed to stop letting him do that.
The ride into the small city had the usual problems such as idiot drivers that didn’t look before they merged lanes, but Jeremiah handled the incursions with ease, although her heart still landed in her throat. She loved to ride, but she also knew it was a dangerous pastime, especially in the city.
They pulled into a business. A motorcycle repair shop. She got off the bike and took off her helmet as Jeremiah did the same. “Is something wrong with your bike?”
He nodded. “I thought I heard it missing.” She frowned. She had noticed nothing, but then again, she’d been daydreaming and enjoying the scenery until they entered city traffic. “Why don’t you go look at the bikes and I’ll be right back.” He motioned to the display room off to the right. She ran her hand through her hair and shrugged. Why not, she didn’t know anyone here, who cared that she had helmet head?
* * *
Jeremiah headed to the maintenance bay where he’d seen Tank sitting beside a Harley Panhead. He stood beside the man and looked at the bike. “I haven’t seen a Panhead in this condition in a long time.”
Tank glanced over at him. “She’s my son’s. Complete rebuild.”
Jeremiah took in the lines of the bike. There was a simple, elegant beauty to the machine, nothing modified, no personal enhancements, just the Harley the way they built it. “Excellent craftsmanship. Looks like it just rolled off the showroom floor.”
“That’s the plan. I got what you wanted, but let’s talk payment.” Tank crossed his arms over his chest and glanced around.
“You got it.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket.
Tank shook his head and held up a hand. “You weren’t joking about being a shrink?”
Well, hell, where did that come from? He nodded. “I’m a psychiatrist, yes.”
“Can you see patients?” Tank rubbed the back of his neck. The cheeks under his silver beard turned a ruddy color.
Jeremiah glanced around, too, to make sure they were alone. “I can. Are you having problems?”
Tank shook his head in a sharp movement. “Not for me. My boy. He came back from the service fucked up physically. He got hooked on pain pills, you know, but he’s kicked it.”
“Okay…” Jeremiah prompted.
“Derek needs help. He ain’t caved into the pills again, but he’s been going to more and more NA meetings. Something’s riding him hard. Won’t talk about it to me or the old lady. Could you talk with him? You know bikes. You don’t look like no button-down prep school graduate. He could relate to you.”
“He’d have to agree to it, Tank. You can’t force a person into therapy.”
“He has. He won’t talk to me about it, but he knows he needs help.”
“I’m three hours away.”
“Don’t care. We’ll ride up and see you. My son is more important than any damn distance.”
Jeremiah nodded. “I’m going to caution you, Tank, I don’t have a magic wand. If Derek wants help and will work, we can give it a shot. If he doesn’t, then I won’t string you along. What happens is up to your son and I cannot discuss a damn thing he says without his permission.”
“Doc, I don’t give a fuck what you talk about. Not my business, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least try to get him help.”
“Then I’ll give you my address and telephone number and you have Derek call me. We’ll set up times and dates to talk if he’s willing.”
Tank extended his hand. “Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“It’s what I do, man. Now, about paying for that bike and the helmet?”
“Nope. It’s on me. Consider it trade for treatment. You let me know when you need more money. I’ve got capital, but no insurance.”
“Tank, I can’t. What if Derek refuses treatment?”
“Then we’ll settle up the next time you’re in the area. I’m not worried about it, I’m a fucking righteous judge of character.” Tank slapped him on the arm. “Besides, you’re giving me your telephone number and address. I’m the president of a motorcycle club that may or may not be civilized. Do the math, Doc.”
Jeremiah chuffed out a laugh. So not what he expected when he walked into the shop. Trade wasn’t exactly something he could report to his accountant, or at least he didn’t think it was, but if Tank’s kid needed help, he’d make it work. He followed Tank back into the showroom.
“Remi, look! They have a Royal, just like the one I used to have back in Alabama.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the small motorcycle. “Remember I told you about the one my dad and brothers fixed up for me?”
Remi dropped his arm over her shoulder. “I do. That’s why I asked Tank here to fix this one up for you.”
She spun to face him. “What?” Her eyes darted between him and Tank, who now held a blue helmet, her size.
“I can paint this to match this winter when you’re not riding.” Tank extended his hand toward her. “Doc here is doing me a favor by taking the thing off my hands. I’ll go get your paperwork so you can register it.” Tank meandered out of the showroom.
“Jeremiah Wheeler, you can’t buy me a motorcycle!” Her hand not holding the helmet plopped onto her hip and she narrowed her eyes at him.
He shrugged and held up his hands. “I didn’t actually buy the bike.” Which was true at the moment.
That pinched stare grew tighter. “Explain that.”
He glanced around and noticed a woman behind the counter. He took Eden’s elbow and moved closer to the Royal before he leaned down and whispered, “I’m helping Tank out. His son needs to see someone.”
She blinked up at him and shook her head. She glanced at the counter and lowered her voice to match his. “So, he’s giving you the bike in exchange for therapy?”
He nodded and shrugged. “I can’t ride it. Too damn small, so I guess you’ll have to drive her home.”
Eden sighed but looked back at the bike. Tank had done one hell of a job. The vibrant blue paint was flecked with silver and the same color pinstripes trimmed the gas tank and fenders. “But it’s yours. You register it. I can’t accept something so expensive.”
“But you’ll ride it?” He snuck his hand around her neck as she stared at the bike.
She glanced over at him and smiled. “Try to keep me off it.” She pushed into him. “Thank you for this, I’ve never had anyone…” She shook her head. “You listened.”
“I’m glad you’re happy.” He dropped a kiss on her lips but kept it PG because they were in public.
She stared up at him and whispered, “I haven’t been this happy in a very long time. If you’re not careful, those feelings I have are going to get bigger.”
He pulled her into a hug and dropped a kiss on her head. “Remind me not to be careful, then.”
“Here’s the paperwork. You’re responsible for the tag. I signed it over to you. Could you write that information down on this?” Tank handed him a small desk pad. He gave the paperwork to Eden and in precise letters put down his contact information and the address to Eden’s clinic, although he hadn’t asked her if he could use the office again. Actually, if he was going to build a business up north, he’d need to build a small office building up in Hollister. He wasn’t sure if Eden had cleared his use of the property with the county and he didn’t want to get her in any trouble.
Tank took the pad and slapped it against his palm. “Expect a phone call tomorrow.” He pointed at Eden. “You need to get that Royal out of my showroom before it brings down the property value.”
Eden smiled and walked over to the fierce biker and hugged him tightly. To say the man looked shocked was an understatement. His eyes were enormous and his face behind that silver beard turned a wicked shade of violet-red. Finally, he patted her on the shoulder as if he wasn’t sure what to do with the display of gratitude.
“Eden, let the nice man go before he has a heart attack.”
Tank blinked over at him.
Eden laughed and stepped away from the biker. “Thank you so much. Jeremiah knows how much this means to me, I only wanted to let you know, too.”
Tank stepped back and combed his beard with his hand. “Yeah, well, you be careful on those roads. Watch out for the assholes, you don’t want to lay her down.”
“I promise.” Eden beamed and put on her new helmet. Jeremiah helped adjust the chin pad and made sure the fit was good. The one they’d borrowed from Doc Macy, the local vet, was ancient, which meant it wasn’t as safe as it could be, plus it was too big.
Tank opened the double doors and Eden rolled the bike out onto the pavement of the parking area. She put her leg over the bike and started it. The sound was nothing less than perfection. He turned to Tank and extended his hand. “If your boy needs to talk, you have him call me tonight, otherwise, have him call tomorrow and I’ll set up an appointment.”
“Thanks, Doc.” Tank nodded toward Eden. “Make sure that little one doesn’t end up as a statistic.”
“I have every intention of making sure of that.” He headed to his bike, affixed the extra helmet, and put his on. Once he fired up his Hog, he extended his hand to Eden, giving her the lead. She released the clutch and eased into traffic, handling the smaller bike with ease. She signaled a left turn, and they made the corner together, riding side by side. As she worked them out of the city, his shoulders relaxed. Watching her handle the bike was a joy. She was a smart and safe rider. Eden took no unnecessary risks in traffic and she drove that bike like she’d grown up on one which, in reality, she had.
He followed her lead as they went into the Black Hills and meandered through the tall pines. When they finally stopped for dinner in Spearfish, she was still brimming with excitement. “Hold on.” She took a picture of the bike and darted over to him. “Take a picture of me with it, please?” He took her phone and snapped a couple pictures. “Thank you. I’m going to email these to my dad. He won’t believe it. She runs like a charm. The balance is perfect, no pull whatsoever, and I know it doesn’t have the horsepower your Harley has, but dang it, she can scoot, too.”
He dropped his arm over her shoulders as they walked to the entrance of the restaurant just over the river. “This place is amazing. They have the most eclectic menu, but all the food is fantastic.”
They sat down. Each ordered a beer and both of them chose the special. “What made you do that?” She leaned forward. The smile that had been on her face all day was still there, and he loved the fact that he’d put it there.
He shrugged. “I wanted someone to ride with. Don’t get me wrong, I love you riding with me on my bike, but when you talked about the freedom of riding, the longing in your voice mimicked everything I felt about when I ride. I met Tank on one of my solo trips down to the Hills right after I got here. He mentioned he owned a custom bike shop, so I asked when I stopped in. They’d parked your bike out back in the bike graveyard. I think he wanted it out of the shop more than anything.”
She leaned back as the server placed their meals. “You should set up a practice in Hollister. We don’t have resources, of course, but you know there are people who could benefit from your help. I think your normal pay scale may have to be adjusted downward, though.”
He snorted as he picked up his fork. “I worked for the state at my last position. I’m not in this profession to make money.” He stopped and looked at her. “I have plenty of money. I inherited it from my grandparents, just like Gen.” He had more money than he knew what to do with, and Gen and he had only received a quarter each of the inheritance. His father received the other half. They were required to sign documents stating Celest wouldn’t receive any of the money. Grandma Wheeler’s doing. She didn’t like Jeremiah’s mom, and according to the letter read by the lawyer at the reading of the will, unless Celest got a job or had any means of self-support, she’d never see a dime. That caused an epic scene and hissy fit in the lawyer’s office. Thank God he could walk out—he did, and he kept walking. He was tired of his mother’s overdramatic responses.
Eden blinked and then shrugged. “I figured, but neither of you seem pretentious, you know? I mean, if I met you hanging out at the Bit and Spur, I wouldn’t peg you as someone with a big bank account. You’re normal, not stuck-up.” She lifted a bite of the speckled trout and tried it. “Oh, this is fantastic.”
He laughed. “Well, I’m glad I don’t come off as stuck-up. I work hard at my leather biker image, kink not included.”
She snorted and started coughing. He moved to help her, but she held up a hand. After a moment she drew a stilted breath and released it.
She croaked, “Warn me next time.”
“What fun is that?” He lifted her beer and gave it to her.
She took a sip and dabbed at her eyes. “Well, I guess there is that.”
He took a bite and agreed with her, pre-coughing fit. The garlic butter sauce they had poached the fish in had enhanced not only the fish but the brown butter and sage spätzle served with it. A red cabbage and beet salad with a feta dressing had enough acid to cut through the richness and made the entire dish a home run.
“I didn’t ask earlier if I could use your office again. It wouldn’t be after business hours this time. He’d be driving up for the meetings from Rapid.”
“From a space perspective, I don’t think it is an issue. The office is rarely used. I usually do my notes in the exam room right after the patient leaves. If Zeke moves his practice north it could get tight, though.” Jeremiah lifted his eyebrow as he ate a bite of the fish. She waved a hand dismissively. “Zeke understands there will be nothing. Stop with the glowering.”
He swallowed his food and lifted his beer. “You realize I will never forgive him for spoiling our first night together.”
She reached her hand across the table and placed it on the one that wasn’t holding the beer. “He didn’t spoil it. Granted, he cut it short, but spoil? No, that night will always be a cherished memory. It was the night I started living again.”
He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it just as his phone vibrated in his front pocket. He rolled his eyes. “Excuse me.” He leaned back and pulled the phone out. The number was one he didn’t recognize from California. He silenced it and shoved his phone back into his pocket. They were just getting on their bikes when it vibrated again. He put on his helmet and started his Harley. Whoever it was could wait. It was probably the administration from the prison. He’d emailed his boss today rendering his two weeks’ notice and listed Eden’s address to ship his personal effects left in his desk. It wasn’t much and he didn’t think they’d ship it out, but inmates had made some of the items in the wood and metal shop. He couldn’t display them because they were potential weapons, but he kept them locked up in his desk drawer. Although, it was curious that they’d call on a Saturday. Whatever, he’d deal with it later.
The feel of the cooler night air was refreshing as they turned onto the highway. They had a lot of miles to travel. This time, he pulled out first and Eden fell into position beside him. They wouldn’t be home before dark, but that was all right because, for the first time in one hell of a long time, he was at peace.
