The glass screen door crept open revealing Shane’s head peeking from behind. A smile covered his face as he made his way to the porch, yards away from my grasp. He had on a black bandana that was covered in different size skulls and black diamond earrings in his both of his ears. I took a deep breath before exiting my car and then got out making strong, hard bounces in his direction. I silently prayed that I didn’t embarrass myself by stumbling in my heels. But I was overly anxious to get to him, his smile drew me in.
He extended his arms towards me and then scooped me up into his embrace lifting me inches from the ground. I then noticed that something was different about him. He had a sleeve of tattoos on both arms. Arms that I used to rub on and hold onto while making love were now covered in skulls and crosses and words that seemed dark and dangerous. My heart dropped. And so did my smile.
SOS. What does that mean? I had a feeling that it didn’t stand for Some One Special.
“I’m going to go and get my bags,” I said, and turned my body towards the car and pointed the remote, pressing it so that my trunk opened up.
“I’ll get them for you, Baby,” he said, and grabbed me by the waist and turned me back towards him, tilting my head in his direction before giving me a soft kiss.
“Damn.” He said, scrutinizing my body. “You look good, baby.”
I forced a smile. “You too.”
All kinds of thoughts were swirling around within my head. I couldn’t wait to get inside so we could sit down and he could help me sort things out. Don’t get me wrong, I think the tattoos look hella sexy, but I needed to know immediately if he was in fact the same person that I left here years earlier and not some thug that the ink suggested.
He had on black cargo pants with a chain hanging from the pocket, a black wife beater, and motorcycle boots. I noticed more tats peeking from his shoulder blades and upper back muscles. My eyes were fixated on a large shield with a skull peeking through. Once my bags were resting by the front door, he grabbed me again and kissed the top of my head. I looked up at him and with his eyes closed, he whispered, “I’ve missed you so much, Ko.” I momentarily forgot everything that was bothering me.
Crossing the threshold to the living room, all I could think about were the times that Shane went home to her and I went home to an empty house, longing to spend more time in his arms. I took in everything- the lone black leather couch, the off-white linoleum flooring, and the sparse furnishings throughout the rest of the visible living space. “She took everything with her,” I assumed.
I looked towards the left where the kitchen was located and pictured myself naked in an apron cooking breakfast for him for the very first time. Although this was my first time in his home, it brought back so many memories of how I used to wish that I was Mrs. Hill.
“Bae, get changed. I’m going to introduce you to my world,” he said, beaming down at me. His voice was one that I could never get tired of but the excitement that I felt before I got here has already subsided. I felt out of my element, like I have entered the world of the unknown.
I looked down on the outfit that I was wearing; a pair of designer jeans, an expensive red blazer, and a pair of high heel shoes. My face became flushed. I was slightly offended. “I am dressed,” I say, now scrutinizing him in his dark clothing that resembled the apocalypse.
“Baby. We’re about to get on the bike. Take that blazer off and put on and some closed in shoes.”
“Shane, you know that me and motorcycles do not get along,” I remind him.
He looked at me affectionately and smiled before saying, “Baby, just change out of that fancy ass jacket, put on some comfortable shoes, and get ready to enjoy the ride.”
♦
Around twenty minutes into the ride, I finally eased into the idea that I was riding at full speed on a highway without any doors or seatbelts to hold me in, and for the first time I finally stopped praying for mercy. Thirty minutes in, I was even more comfortable but my butt was stiff and my thighs felt like I just finished ten miles on the elliptical machine. The last ten minutes were spent with me praying to the Lord that my arms didn’t give out and slip from around Shane’s waist, throwing me onto the highway at 75mph.
When we finally got off the freeway, Shane put one of his hands on top of mine and rubbed it affectionately, asking, “You okay, Bae?”
After speeding for over thirty minutes across the freeway on a motorcycle, I finally let go of the breath that I was holding on to and said, “I’m fine.”
Once the light that we were sitting at turned green, Shane took off aggressively, easing in front of a woman who was driving a tan Camry in the lane next to us. When he does this, my right foot slips off of the pedal. “Shit,” I mumble, nearly losing it again. Shane rubbed my hand which was around his waist and I calmed down. But the woman, who was now behind us, started blowing her horn wildly.
Shane said in a whisper, “I see you muthafucka,” and continued traveling onto the highway that eventually lead us to a back road that is the entrance to a private land. The hidden land had a yellow neon sign that read, THE DUGOUT and then a smaller sign that said, No Trespassing! Enter at your own risk.
Shane drove up to the end of the grassy land where there were other bikes and other people hanging around-male and female. Music was playing and the vibe seemed friendly. There was a big black wooden house that had Sons of Slaves painted on it in bright yellow letters and a logo that looked identical to the one on the back of the leather vest that Shane was wearing. It was then that I made the connection, SOS stands for Sons of Slaves, an Outlaw Motorcycle Gang.
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