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drink after spending the day with a particularly clingy client. It started years ago, after she had realized there was no future for herself in acting. It paid the bills and offered her enough money and time to do the things she wanted to do. The problem, of course, was ethics. Sleeping with wealthy business men and making house calls out to men whose wives were out of town was hardly the kind of job a woman could take pride in. At least not someone shy and unconvincing like Mily.
    No – she kept her lifestyle a secret and when people would ask her why she traveled so much and so often, she'd say the same thing every time. A story she had spent hours perfectly crafting.
    “I’m a Pharmaceutical Sales Rep,” she said to Leo, taking a sip of her beer.
    It explained everything she ever needed to explain to people. Why she traveled, how she could afford such lavish luxuries and why she never seemed to be available on the weekends. It was the perfect cover up, one nobody ever questioned her about. Not even her parents.
    “Tell me about you.” Mily said to Leo over the music, changing the subject. Leo nodded.
    He explained to her that he was a biker, President of the Disciple’s – a Motorcycle Club based out of Los Angeles – and that he was visiting Desert Shore for pleasure rather than business. When Mily asked what he meant, Leo shrugged. He told her that even though the town was small and dingy, it offered a certain isolation he couldn’t quite find in LA.
    “There’s something spiritual about this place,” he said.
    After a few more beers, he went onto tell Mily, who listened with wide eyes, about the very first time he ever straddled the seat of a bike. It was a sunny Saturday in 1986 and Leo had just turned eighteen. He loved everything about riding even though he hadn’t done it yet. The power of the engine. The way the throttle shook and sputtered. The strength of the frames and the breathtaking speed. There wasn't a single thing about bikes that didn't give Leo a high – and in those days, all he did was work on them. He was employed part time at a Mechanic Shop that specialized in bike repair and he loved every minute of it.
    A good bike reminded Leo of the graceful predators that lurked out in the wild. Unstoppable. That was exactly how he felt when he finally rode. As though nothing and no one could touch him. He had spent a countless number of hours daydreaming about the kind of bike he'd one day buy for himself, imagining what it would feel like to sit on. To take off into the night – far away from the trials and tribulations that had become his life.
    Leo's family was perfect on the surface but what lurked beneath was far darker than anyone could have imagined. The moment Leo was of legal age, he took off to LA, a decision that would ultimately go on to become one of the smartest he had ever made. Not long after Leo had found a place to live and a job, he was offered the bike of his dreams by his boss, a husky tattoo covered guy named Richie. He had inherited his repair shop from his father after his death. In it were a few abandoned bikes that had been dropped off for repairs by customers and never claimed. Richie had sold most of them at auction, but there was one he held onto
    The Yahma SR40. It needed work, but he never could quite bring himself to sell it.
    “I want you to have it,” he told Leo one day after they had closed up shop, nodding at the dusty bike in the corner. Leo had been staring at it longingly for months. He had even considered asking Richie if he could buy it off of him, but he never could quite work up the courage.
    Leo couldn’t believe his ears.
    “Jesus man,” he breathed, “are you serious?”
    Richie nodded.
    “Every biker needs a ride,” he said simply.

RUSH

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    Past

    L eo could live a thousand years and he’d never forget the very first moment he eased himself down on the leather seat. It was as though it had been crafted just for him.