Chapter 51: Bikers

By now they were close to attracting an audience, with widows usually not fond of any open display of affection at the cemetery. The impulse to leave came naturally.

"So what do you want to do tonight?" Mark asked as they walked up to their bikes.

Involuntarily this made her smirk. Singed by the fire inside her that used every short lack of control to grow rapidly, Ann had a quite few ideas about that. However, she had no intent of telling him any of them.

Thoughtfully she stared at the bikes. There was one place where she had wanted to go to for a while. If you believed that wounds had to hurt to heal, it was a perfectly reasonable place, too. She took a deep breath. "Carla's. I want to go to Carla's."

Mark just nodded. "Bit of a tour is a good idea. Will give you a better feeling for the Titan."

Without a reply, she mounted.

She took the lead, driving smoothly though she was a long shot from calm. At least Carla's momentarily pushed all thoughts of naughtiness into the back recesses of her mind. She hadn't been to Carla's for almost two years. Ally had never felt up to any kind of company. Ann sighed. At least there wouldn't be too much of a crowd on a Monday.

Strange, she had never before been to Carla's with a guy. Had never left with one, either, even though a lot of steam was worked up in that pub. Play, have fun, leave early, that had been her rule. But things had changed. Her stomach fluttered whenever she thought about being alone with Mark. No matter how well she behaved, she couldn't shut off her mind's graphic department.

By now she had reached the Interstate. With a quick check in the mirror she made sure he was following before she accelerated. The rush of speed took her off guard. She hadn't been driving so fast in years. The wind ripped at her jacket and trousers, trying to draw her off the bike or possibly undress her. She changed lane, leaving the cars behind her. She genuinely enjoyed the wild freedom of the ride, so different when you were on a bike driving yourself.

But it was only a few exits until they had to get off the Interstate again. Feeling a pang of regret she slowed. As soon as they were on the country road Mark took over, knowing his way around better than she did. Carla's was quite a bit off the main routes but lay at the scenic route used by a lot of bikers who went on tour for pleasure rather than for getting from one place to another.

Mark gracefully swung into the parking lot in front of the pub, instantly whirling up a cloud of dust. So they had still not come around to paving the place. Betting when Carla's promises about that would come true was a running joke among the guests.

She killed the motor after stopping beside Mark. There were quite a few bikes in the lot, so maybe there was a crowd even on Monday.

"Ready to go?" Mark looked at her questioningly, helmet and gloves already tucked away in the saddle-bag.

She hurriedly took off her helmet, packing it away. "Yeah, ready."

Though really, she wasn't. She wanted to go back to the Interstate and drive straight on until she had to stop from exhaustion or lack of gas. But now that they had come here she couldn't quite say that, could she?

She put her hands into the back-pockets of her jeans and followed him.

The interior of the pub was dark and smoky. Music blared from the juke-box. It smelled of stale beer and the sharp odour of sweat. Carla was behind the bar. She looked up from cleaning the glasses to see who the newcomers were.

Mark strode towards her. He radiated power, daring people to cross his path the wrong way. Biker's attitude, she guessed.

"Taker! What a pleasure to see you!" Carla greeted him.

"Haven't been around for a while. How's Mandy?" Mark answered, his smile instantly friendly.

„Fine. She's in the back. The usual?"

„Two, please."

Carla turned her gaze to Ann as if she hadn't noticed her before. She looked blank for a second but then studied her intently. "You're welcome", she told Mark absentmindedly and put two cans in front of him onto the bar before her attention returned to Ann. "You've been here before."

It was not a question. Ann nodded. „It's been a while, though. A few years."

"Yes, I remember. Always here with a dark one, sexy girl, bit on the wild side."

"Yes, that would be her." Ann was more surprised than anything else.

Nonetheless Mark abruptly took the cans in one hand and offered her the other. "Let's get us a seat." He nodded at Carla, on the brink of rudeness, then led Ann to a table in the far corner of the room, away from the other patrons. She could feel a few stares at their backs on the way there. She was sure they did not mean her.

When she opened her can she saw that it was beer but the non-alcoholic kind. She drank in a long gulp. Her throat felt dusty.

There seemed to be a few heated discussions going on now. Furtively whispered though or at least not loud enough to hear over the music. Every now and then someone turned to stare at them. Mark took no notice. Sipping his beer slowly he leaned back in his chair, scanning the room apparently unconcerned.

The patrons were the usual crowd. A bit gruffer than on a weekend maybe. She was quick in assigning them to their categories. The tourists, the needy, the drunkards, the funny, the crazy, the lonely, the harmless. If you wanted to play you had to know who would take loosing like a good sport. A miscalculation could be risky if the guy weighed a hundred pounds more than you. This had been her job, she'd decide which table they'd join. Ally had taken over then, doing the practical chatting up. A foolish game it seemed now. Still she knew exactly whom she would have chosen. Two youngsters, college age, too young for them of course, but they seemed pleasant enough. Giving them a feeling of adventure, of everything was possible, in return for a few drinks seemed like a fair trade. Carla wasn't particular fond of games like that, probably having had to sort out one brawl too much arisen from miscalculations, but she tolerated it with a shake of her head as long as people paid for what they drank.

Ann became aware that Mark was following her gaze to the college boys with a raised eye-brow. She shook her head. What was there to say apart from 'we were young and dumb'?

Carla came over, sitting herself down with a sigh. "My feet kill me." She took a sip from the bottle she had brought with her. "So how's the parlour doing?"

"Get's along."

„I send whoever asks me for a good shop but I reckon quite a few more would actually make the trip if I was allowed to tell them you're the owner."

Mark just treated her with a long silent look.

"Alright, alright, no advertisement then." Carla shook her head. "But…"

"No", Mark spoke evenly but determined, "does it make my bikes any better? Any safer? No. So what kind of argument is it?"

„A brand-name sells", Carla shrugged.

"I don't intend to sell myself", Mark replied dryly.

"I give up, you're stubborn as a mule." Holding her hands up in defeat Carla joined the grin.

Then one of the patrons called her, so she stood up and went over to the other table.

"They all know you, don't they?" Ann asked him.

"Sometimes I think the doom of my shop is that it's most successful merchandise would be autographs." He grimaced jokingly.

"Does that happen often? That people come for autographs?"

"Thank God no. I tried to make sure that the people knowing about the parlour refrain from posting it on the web. It's only a matter of time though, I guess. But I have the hope that even the most addicted fans see no more than some worn-out old bloke in me by now."

"You think I'm falling for such plump fishing for compliments?"

"It was worth the try." He grinned before changing the topic, "So, did Carla's change since you last were here?"

"Nah, Carla's didn't."

"But?"

Ann's gaze wandered to the college boys. "I did."

Mark followed her gaze with a questioning look.

She focused on him again. "The games have no meaning anymore."

Feeling uncomfortable with the heaviness following her words she took a quick sip of her beer and stood up. "Excuse me for a minute."

She searched her way through the tables to the rest-room. Now gazes were following her. She was quite certain that no one would dare to chat her up today, though.

But when she stood in the rest-room a few minutes later, washing her hands, she found out that she was mistaken. The plump brunette biker who had come in after her eyed her nervously for a minute before gathering her courage. "Excuse me, could you answer me a question?"

Ann hadn't really given her any attention up to that point. Now she looked her up and down. A little older than herself probably, though judging from the deep lines in her face the worse life-style by far. "Depends", she finally answered.

"The guy at your table, he is the Undertaker, isn't he?" Her voice was quite agitated.

Something about her tone raised Ann's hackles. "Not what I call him."

"Oh my God! I knew it! I've been so into him when I was younger! Well, obviously he was younger then, too", she snickered.

"I got to go", Ann determinedly steered towards the door.

"No, wait", the biker held her at her sleeve but let go promptly, when Ann gave her a Look.

"You think, you think I could ask him for an autograph?"

Ann turned towards her, exaggerating her pause for thinking. "You can always ask. Never mind his temper."

With that and a shrug she left. Obviously he was younger then, too! How dared she!

Still grumbling Ann made her way back to their table only to find that Mark had female company. The woman had dark, close-cropped hair and was lean and muscular. There was something vaguely familiar about her.

Mark and the woman turned around when she approached. "Hi", she greeted them while reclaiming her seat.

"Good taste you got, Taker", the woman said before turning to Ann, "I'm Mandy by the way."

Mandy, alright, that's why she had known her. "Ann", she answered.

„I know. Bought a Titan, huh? Good taste there as well."

Ann smiled. "I like the lady."

"Haven't you been here with a Titan a few years back as well?"

When Ann didn't answer instantly, Mandy added, "I remember people by their bikes, it's a job trademark I guess."

"You stick with the things you love, don't you?" Mark softly said.

Mandy smirked. "Guess that explains why I'm still working at this crappy place."

Ann smiled. She appreciated what Mark was trying to do here though it wasn't really necessary. She was used to coping with her issues herself.

"So will you two come by more often now?"

"May well be", Mark answered, smiling at Ann.