Manic - Page 63/64

Let me tell you, painting fishnet stockings—the worst. It took the entire day.

But even though I'm still real nervous about the final painting and the show tomorrow night—this has been the best summer of my life. No matter what happens to me, no matter how things go after this is over—whether Ronin and I make it or not—no one will ever be able to take away what we created together this summer.

It's very special.

I start to get excited as we get closer because there's lots of other RV's on the road now, plus all the bikers. They come out of nowhere, all of a sudden. One minute we're on this desolate highway in Wyoming, and then, bikers everywhere. All of us heading to the same place. I notice a few motocross racing team transport trucks. "Is there a motocross race here this week?" I ask Elise.

"Yeah," Spencer answers from the seat behind me.

I look back at him.

He winks because he must remember that I told him my first boyfriend was a motocross racer back in Chicago. Wade. My first love. And then his mom got spooked and sent me away so I couldn't ruin his charmed life and promising future with my pathetic one.

I shake my head to clear the sad memories. "Just asking, Spencer. I was pretty big into it when I was a kid."

"Yeah, good thing, too. Otherwise I'd be teaching you how to ride that beautiful Shrike Rook bike tonight."

I smile and secretly kiss him in my mind for not telling on me in front of Elise.

We ease into the campgrounds about an hour later. It's all pretty primitive, but since we're headlining a show, and Spencer needs a private place with access to water in order to paint me, we get to stay in the executive cabins. The big luxury is that it comes with a bathroom.

The whole day just flies by with all the settling in. The campground is a madhouse and we're still a few miles outside Sturgis. Ronin and I turn in because I have to get up at three in the morning so Spencer can start painting.

Ronin pulls me up to him in the bed, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my neck. "How you doing, Gidge?"

I turn so I can see his face. "You know, not anything like I should be. I don't understand how I could've shot someone yesterday and today, I'm just camping up in Sturgis like it never happened. And the weirdest thing, Ronin? I could care less. What's that mean?"

He tucks a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. "It means you're gonna be just fine, Rook. You owe that guy nothing. Not one second of remorse or sympathy."

"Yeah," I sigh. "That's what I figure too. I'm just gonna forget about it, Ronin. I'm just gonna let the past go, move forward with you."

He squeezes me. "You make my heart happy right now. So totally and completely happy. I see a lot of things in our future."

I smile into his chest. "What things?"

"Good things, Gidget. Good things."

We cling to each other, but not in a desperate way. We cling to each other and fall asleep in a way that makes us feel complete.

And when stupid Ford comes pounding on our cabin door at 3AM, I wake up feeling complete as well.

"OK, Rook, last painting."

Ronin and Ford went to the campground general store to get coffee for everyone, so right now it's just Spencer, me, and a three man film crew in his cabin. He's moved the beds out of the way to give us room, and he's got the music going. I'm pretty sure no one in this campground but Ronin and I bothered to go to sleep, because the party is still raging outside. It's loud as f**k and if I wasn't such a heavy sleeper, that might've prevented me from getting some shut-eye. But as it happens, I can sleep through the Sturgis rally no problem.

"Are you gonna tell me what it is?"

"Nope!" he says, grinning like a teenager. "You'll just have to discover it as I go."

He gets his airbrush out and a smoky gray color goes on first. I watch patiently as he winds the paint around my body in ribbons. He switches to another airbrush so he doesn't have to keep cleaning it between colors and sprays on some black, blending it together. After that there's more gray, some shades lighter, some shades darker, and white to bring it all together. Even though he's only done background colors, it already looks amazing.

Ronin and Ford come back with the coffee and take a seat on the couch to watch, but even with the caffeine and the roaring sounds of motorcycles outside, not to mention Spencer's airbrush, neither of them last long because Spencer is building the scene in a really cryptic way to keep us all guessing.

It becomes too boring for the tired babies and they are out.

It's late morning before I figure it out, that's how well-honed Spencer's craft is. He's applying the red, the only other color besides the shades of black, gray and white, when it all starts to click.

"It's us."

Spence shoots me with his finger, just like he did when he sat across from me in Cookie's and offered me this job all those months ago. "It's you two. It was a helluva summer, huh, Rook? We made something special here, I hope you realize that."

"I do." I whisper this because it chokes me up a little. "You know what, Spence? I'm so glad I did this with you. My whole life has changed and you're a big part of it. You are a good guy and I'm honored to be your canvas for this project."

He stops his painting and I catch him swallowing. Like he's a bit choked up as well. "You were the perfect canvas, Blackbird. I hope all your dreams come true, whether they include me and my bikes or not. We got the contract for the first season of Shrike Bikes. It's your job, but I'll live if you say no."