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Saving Dallas 2 Making the Cut(61)

By:Kim Jones


When Luke told me this, my thoughts of my drama went out the window and I was overcome with pure joy.

“Oh baby, that’s wonderful news!”

“Yeah, it is. I have to go, babe. I love you and I’ll get back with ya soon.”

“I love you too and give a big kiss to War from me!”

“Yeah, that shit ain’t gonna happen,” Luke said laughing. “Gotta go, babe.” He disconnected and I was all smiles as I prepared for my day on the “hog” with Brooklyn.





A “hog” is a Harley Davidson Motorcycle. Brooklyn’s Hog was a pink, three wheeled motorcycle known as a trike. Her husband, Ronnie, had custom built it himself. It was wonderful. I sat behind her as we barreled down the highway, heading south towards the beach. I had packed a pair of shorts and flip flops to bring with me, but chose to wear my motorcycle gear which consisted of jeans, boots and a black tank for the journey down there. Tom Petty’s lyrics of “Free Falling” seemed fitting as I left the world behind me for a while and enjoyed the sun on my skin and the wind in my hair. We probably looked ridiculous, two women riding a pink trike down the highway, but I didn’t give a shit. I doubted anyone would be stupid enough to say anything to us.

It was after one when we pulled up to Hank’s, a little biker bar and grill on the beach. Brooklyn guided us under the covered area as surrounding bikers came up for a closer look. I climbed off the bike and shook my hair loose from my helmet. I noticed the appreciative looks that I received and couldn’t help but be a little smug. So what if I had a boyfriend? It was always nice to have your ego boosted.

“Take ya dirty eyes off my bitch, you little shit,” Brooklyn said to a guy who couldn’t have been older than twenty-one. He was rubbing his tongue across his lip and suggestively winking at me. If it wasn’t for the cut he wore, I never would have guessed that he was in a Motorcycle Club.

“These little punks these days have no respect for women. What do they think? That we are all whores or something?” Brooklyn announced loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear. A tall man with a braided beard and hair as long as Willie Nelson’s came out and took Brooklyn in his arms.

“Well, I’ll be damned. How in the hell are you, Brooklyn? Where’s Ronnie?” The man asked, his voice booming.

“He is on a run. I can’t flirt as much when he is around,” she said, smacking him playfully on the ass.

“Bullshit. Since when have you cared whether or not he was around?” the guy asked, pulling Brooklyn in for another hug. It was obvious that they were old friends.

“Hank, meet Dallas. Dallas, Hank,” she said, motioning for me to join them.

“Nice to meet you, Hank,” I said with a smile, offering my hand for him to shake.

“My goodness. I have died and gone to heaven. Miss Dallas,” he said, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips. “The pleasure is all mine.” Something about him made me feel warm and toasty on the inside.

“Y’all come in. I have the best table in the house open, and it’s just for y’all.” He led us up the stairs of the building that was at least twenty feet off the ground. The boards over the windows were all lifted to give a view of the beach and the city. The music was loud rock and roll, and the place was packed with so many bikers, that you couldn’t smell the food over the scent of leather. He seated us at a table on the back deck that overlooked the gulf. There were no other tables out here and even though the music was still loud, you could at least hear one another talk.

“Ginger is gonna take care of y’all. Give this girl the house drink,” he said, speaking to the beautiful blonde wearing an outfit that barely covered her. “She looks like she needs it.” Ginger nodded at Hank and they disappeared inside to get Brooklyn a bucket of Corona and me a house drink, whatever in the hell that was.

“Tell me about yesterday,” Brooklyn said, not bothering with small talk. I took a deep breath and looked out at the rolling waves.

“There is really not a lot to tell. Luke thought that I knew that my ex-boyfriend, Jeff, was working for Frankie. I got the impression that he thought I was playing him. I don’t know why he would think that. I didn’t kidnap myself,” I said, looking at my hands. Ginger appeared with our drinks and mine came in a quart jar. I took a big sip and almost choked. They must have made it a double.

“Luke was upset that he didn’t know. He couldn’t take it out on Regg, so he took it out on you. That shit happens more often than it should, but it does happen. Don’t let Luke scare you. Ten years ago, I would have told you to cut him loose; now, you are a lucky girl to have him,” Brooklyn said, sliding her lime up and down the neck of her bottle and coating it in salt.