Wildcat

The highway's damn near empty as I ride back to my hometown. One look in my Fat Boy's side mirror makes me pour on more speed. I grin at the engine's rumble and throw a salute at the guy in the beat-up truck shrinking behind me. Pop will bust my balls for riding this hard, but he ain't exactly a Saint either. I can always say I was starving. That won't be bullshit - I haven't had a thing since this morning. Right then, my stomach growls, so I keep my eyes on the long spread of cornfields and the bruised gray sky ahead. If luck's with me, I'll have time to catch forty before I head to The Hollow. It's only a clearing in the woods at the edge of town, but when Dex slapped that nickname on it years ago, everybody kept using it. I smile again when my childhood friend comes to mind. The guy doesn't know I'm back yet - no one does. I want to watch those fuckers' faces when I blow into their little gathering and wreck the surprise. One mile left. Seeing all this familiar scenery knots my stomach up. I went to see Pop whenever I could, but it never felt the same. Mom's already here, settling into her new apartment. I wonder whether she'll eat with us tonight. She and Dad are fine - no shit talking, no drama. They stepped away from each other for a while, and I wanted distance from my hometown too. If I'd realized how damn much I'd miss this place and the guys, I'd have stayed and let Mom head across the country alone. She loved teaching out there, but I kept hoping she'd get sick of that hellhole and come home. Fat Boy rolls into my neighborhood. My legs need a stretch, and my ass has gone numb. No matter how often I ride, that seat never gets easier to take. Dex would call me a pussy. I can't wait to squeeze the living shit outta that fucker. Our place sits farther down the block. Pop isn't out in the yard; he's probably buried in the garage. I yank off my helmet the second both boots hit the ground and drag my fingers through my messy dark hair. I should likely cut it, but girls love tugging on it, and I like that shit way too much to give it up. I roll my shoulders while I climb the porch's wooden steps. "Pop!" I shout, pounding my fist against the front door. The door swings open almost at once, and my giant old man cracks me upside the head before hauling me into his arms and thumping my back. "Good to have you home, Son." "Feels damn good to be back." I wink and look him over once. He's every bit as strong, tall, and inked as he ever was, and his eyes still shine the same way. My dad's still in his forties, young enough to take on any damn thing he wants. My brother and I got lucky in the parents department. I wish the rest of my friends could say that. Pop jerks his chin toward Fat Boy. "Carry your stuff in. I'm guessing you're hungry." "Starving as fuck," I gripe, and Wade Mercer answers by smacking me again. "I'm the only one who gets to swear in this house, understand? You little bastards never learn. Deal with the bike and get your ass into the kitchen. I'm starving too." "And Mom?" "She's got her book club tonight. She'll come by tomorrow. You better not wake up hungover." "Can't promise that." I shrug and head back out of the house. It takes no time at all to grab my stuffed saddlebag and park Fat Boy in the garage. Then I go inside again and drag myself up to my old bedroom. Pop hasn't changed a damn thing in here. Posters of my favorite bands are still hanging on the walls. I'll add one of Cole, my big brother, the superstar. My bag hits the carpet - unpacking can wait. When my dad's hungry, he has no patience at all. I peel off my leathers and throw them across the bed. After that, I unzip the bag and pull out a pair of clean jeans and a black T-shirt. I'm about to pull them on when I notice movement at one of the windows in the house beside ours. The place had sat empty for years because the owners couldn't get anyone to rent it. Dex used to claim the damn thing was haunted, while I figured it just needed too much work. While I shove my arms through the T-shirt sleeves, I make a mental note to ask Pop about the new neighbors. It better be a hot chick. I'd have a hell of a time with that.