After the traumatic experience with Jeremy, Nix had to take a break from his life. Having accrued a good bit of vacation time, he decided to hit the open road. With no plans, no map and no thoughts, it was just him, the road and the sky. On a whim, he picks up a hitch hiker and finds unexpected passion with a stranger.
The rumbling purr of the V-twin between his legs, the wind on the lower half of his face, and the warm day created the perfect recipe for a great ride. Nix squeezed the clutch and geared down as a curve came up. The powerful engine growled deeply, and the machine seemed to lurch in place as it powered down to take the sharp left turn. Nix leaned his body gently into it then gunned the accelerator when the road ahead of him evened out, dotting in and out of his field of vision between gentle swells of the foothills.
Nix was on a badly needed vacation, and he was going to make sure to take every moment for himself and his beloved Harley. He had built his bike from the ground up, knew ever nuance and detail on a personal level. Nix didn’t just love his bike; he trusted it completely. Ahead, as he rose up onto the swell of one of the small series of dips, he spied a figure on the roadside. He was so lost in thoughts of his bike he realized that he could have passed the stranded motorist by. He let off of the accelerator, and the bike roared, a little by his own doing to flaunt his ride.
The hitchhiker was moving quickly down the soft shoulder, and as Nix slowed down, he watched the figure cast furtive glances toward their right. His first instinct was that the person was crazy and it was best to just head on down the road, but when he saw the way the air seemed to shimmer next to the smaller figure, an old familiar finger of cold trickled its way down his spine. Nix knew by experience what was happening, and a furtive glance to his right assuaged his suspicions when he spied an old cemetery sitting behind a rusty and bedraggled wrought iron fence.
He knew how to handle situations like this, and he revved his bike in a menacing way. The air continued to take on that occupied look, and for a moment, he saw the shape of a tall, lanky body as it matched its steps with the small stranger.
“It’s too hot for this shit,” Nix grumbled. The newspaper had reported that morning that the day promised to reach highs of near 100.
“You need a ride?” he called as he pulled over on the shoulder of the road. There was no vehicle in sight, but the stranger did have on a backpack.
“Gladly,” came the answer as the hitchhiker walked quickly up to the Harley.
At first, Nix had mistaken the young man for a woman. He was Asian, beautiful and fair, like a China doll. He was small, just a little under five feet six, and had eyes that seemed as deep and dark as pools of obsidian. His hair was long, reaching just at the middle of his back, with the sides pulled back off his face in a neat ponytail. Nix could tell it was all one length, and he found that sexy, but it was his eyes that Nix appreciated the most, however, as he watched the man sweep his gaze in appreciation over his beast.
Good answer, he thought to himself as the hitchhiker finally gazed up at him with those exotic, slanted eyes.
“I’m Nix. I see you like my bike.”
“Liang,” the stranger said. “I love machines with raw power.” His accent was thick, and to Nix, it sounded as if he were speaking carefully around his words to be understood.
“Well, Liang, I don’t know where you’re going, but you’re welcome to come with me while I get to where I’m headed.”
Without hesitation, Liang climbed gingerly onto the back of the Harley. Nix appreciated that he knew to hook his backpack over the tall backrest so he would be comfortable for the ride. Maybe Liang had ridden on his fair share of bikes in the past. Pushing off from the ground, Nix steadied the bike and got them going smoothly on the road. The day was still early-morning cool as they headed out, but by noon, they’d need somewhere to hole up out of the heat.