Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Weatherman backed his bike into a spot in front of the garage and cut the engine. He lifted the heavy helmet from his head and shook out his sandy blond hair. His job at the news station had him keeping it stylishly short at all times, even though he preferred to have it longer.

I guess I won’t have to keep to a dress code soon. He only had a few weeks left at that job. It wasn’t a bitter ending to this part of his career, but a necessary one.

The custom paint and spray booth was at the far end of the garage complex. They did everything at this facility from simple oil changes to complex restorations. It started as a ramshackle dump and grew into a thriving business under the leadership of Brick, the current president of the Dragon Runners MC. Over his lifetime, the club had acquired a number of diverse businesses besides the garage and bar, including a campground, a tattoo parlor, and a hair salon.

He opened the door to the building where the spray booth was located. Dodge was bent over a car, taping off another part of an elaborate spider on the hood.

“That’s gonna look damn good at night. I bet it scares the shit out of someone.”

He stepped into the spray booth and closed the door behind him, keeping a good distance away. Dust and other particles could ruin a good paint job, and from the intricate detail of the spider, Dodge would probably throat punch anyone who messed it up. The booth’s exhaust was off for now, so the two friends could carry on a conversation.

“I hope so. I’m charging him enough.” Dodge peered at one of the arachnid’s black legs and swore, peeling off a section of blocking tape and repositioning it. “You just get into town?”

Weatherman chuckled at the man’s fastidious attention to detail. He slipped his hands into his jeans pockets and leaned back against the coated cement wall. “About a half hour ago. No one’s up at the Lair, so I thought I’d stop here before heading to the house.”

“How’s your mom?”

Weatherman sighed. This was his reason for leaving a promising career as a meteorologist at the station. He hadn’t set out to become a TV personality, but the station plucked him up as an intern before graduating. Later, they hired him straight out of school, claiming his good looks and articulate voice were what they needed to draw their audience. It helped that the camera loved him. He had a slim, athletic swimmer’s build, along with piercing eyes and wavy blond hair. He’d had to live in Knoxville in order to take the job, but he was okay with that, as it wasn’t too far away from home. All was well until his mother got sick. “She’s taking her first chemo in the morning.”

“Good luck to her and to you, brother.”

Weatherman dipped his head in acknowledgment. “She’s got a long way to go, but the doctors say it can still be beat even at stage four. As soon as I finish my contract, I’ll move back permanently. Until then, I’ll keep commuting.”

Dodge tapped the tape in place and checked again, satisfied with its placement. “Sorry you have to give up your dream job.”

He shrugged. “It’s my mom.” Yes, it sucked, but for his entire life, it had always been just the two of them. His dad left long ago, before he was born, and he could count on one hand the few times he’d seen or spoken to the man. Child support had been paid regularly, at least, and his mother had squirreled it away into some high-yield money market investments. They ended up being a nice-sized nest egg for school and whatever future he wanted to claim. Not rich by any means, but comfortable enough not to worry.

It didn’t matter to him, because he’d never lacked for anything growing up. Natalie Turner had worked as a bank teller all her life to make sure he never had to suffer. When he was a young child, she would come home every night to cook dinner with his “help.” He remembered the fun he had shaking chicken legs in a bag of seasoned flour as she cheered him on. Later, they would play a game together, and she’d read to him before bed. She never closed his door or hers, so he could hear her breathing from her room. As he grew up, she chose to never date anyone, even though men asked her out a lot. Almost every activity she did was kid oriented. School book fairs, swim meets when he made the team at the Y club, science projects—everything in his life, she was involved. Some kids might consider that to be smothering, but Weatherman regarded those memories as precious.

“I can always get another position. The station said I could come back when I want. If I want.”

“I hope it works out,” Dodge said as he straightened. “I’m almost ready to spray. You wanna stick around for a bit, or you got other stuff to do?”

“I gotta go get a haircut, and then I’ll head over to the house. Moving sucks.”

Dodge chuckled. “I hear you. Take care, and I’ll see you at the Lair later.”

Weatherman blew out a breath. His afternoon plans didn’t include going to the Dragon Runners’ headquarters tonight for any length of time, but he might stop in to see his mentor. Of all the Dragon Runners, Table was his biggest influence. He’d met the man by chance one night back in high school when he and his mom lived in Asheville. He’d been out with his girlfriend at the time and two other friends when they spotted a car barreling down one of the many twisting mountain roads. The shiny line of fluid trailing behind the vehicle told him why.

“Holy shit, look at that!”

“She’s going way too fast.”

“Watch out!”

His friends had screamed and panicked while Weatherman—Bryce back then—concentrated on staying with the careening vehicle, hoping the driver stopped before the brakes completely drained. Ultimately, the car crashed into the guardrail on a sharp curve. Only by the grace of God did it not flip over the rail and tumble down the mountainside. He’d stayed with the woman he now knew as Lori and waited with her until her boyfriend showed up with help.

That was the night he met Table and found his future with the Dragon Runners MC.

“It’s not easy getting into the club, and not everyone is cut out for club life,” Table had told him. “You’re serious, I can talk to my people. If it’s mostly about your mom, you just let me know if she needs somethin’ and I’ll take care of it.”

He prospected right out of high school during his freshman year at the University of North Carolina at Asheville. He learned that Lori had been abused by her ex-husband and went into hiding from him. Thankfully, she found Table and the club, who protected her and gave her a new life. But somehow, her ex found her, and then all hell broke loose. Table even took a bullet for her and nearly died. Brick, the club president, somehow fixed the situation, and nothing else came of it. Eventually, Table and Lori moved to Bryson City and began their life together.

Through summer classes and several semesters of credit overloads, Bryce graduated early, and his good looks, along with his natural charisma, landed him the perfect job as the weather forecaster at a TV station in Knoxville. His mom had always wanted to live in Bryson City, which was fortunate, as the Dragon Runners MC was headquartered there. Some kids wouldn’t want their parents around, but Bryce was okay with it and, in fact, encouraged Natalie to move close to him.

Only a year into his promising career, life threw a major curveball at them. Natalie’s lung cancer diagnosis had them both reeling, and he’d made the decision to end his budding career for now to take care of her.

Weatherman fired up his bike and caressed the handlebars. His Softail Harley only seated one, but his cruiser had an extra spot. He used to take his mother on the occasional trip, but she was too frail now. So far, the cancer hadn’t metastasized to other parts of her body, and the doctors said it was treatable, but still very serious. Natalie had a long, difficult road ahead of her.

“One step at a time,” he said to himself as he strapped on his helmet.

The summer heat brought a sticky humidity to the air as he rode away from the garage. Most of his furniture and personal belongings were in storage for now. The little two-bedroom house his mom bought was small, but he planned on living there until she got back on her feet.

Or not.

No, he wasn’t ready to face that part yet. As long as Natalie Turner had the capacity to breathe, she could heal, and he wouldn’t give up on any shred of hope.

With that thought, he pointed his bike in the direction of Tambre’s place and headed there.