The bus ride was fairly uneventful, as was breakfast. They’d found a small dive diner to eat at, and at such an early hour not many people had shown other than the obligatory retirees with nothing better to do than nurse a coffee cup and converse with their favorite waitresses. Sheri was glad Deadblood wasn’t angry with her anymore, and Deadblood was busy thinking about his next move.
A new motorcycle.
Sheri did still owe him one, after all. Might as well go big or go home. So many new features on the market now. As much as Deadblood didn’t care for shoe shopping, motorcycle shopping was right up his alley. After all, he hadn’t commented on all those optional features just to annoy Sheri over the last few months. Well, maybe partly to aggravate her, it was fun after all. Regardless, he’d been studying up and learning what was out there.
As soon as 8:00 drew near, they hailed a taxi and directed the driver to take them to the nearest dealership.
Deadblood was in much better spirits as they arrived, possibly the happiest Sheri had seen him in a while. The smell of tanned, supple leather, fresh paint and new rubber was sharp in the air and gleaming chrome surrounded them from every angle.
Deadblood reminded her of a very excited, yet very restrained child in a candy store at that moment. Men and their toys. Almost as bad as women and their shoes, she supposed.
He went from bike to bike, searching, commenting on various things here and there. That one was nice, but built for cruising, not speed. This one was good, but too much chrome and too flashy. The one three spaces down was excellent, but he needed something capable of travelling longer distances.
Sheri said nothing, only quietly nodding, or agreeing with him, as she savored the soon approaching moment when she would inform him she no longer owed him a bike.
Just as Sheri thought it would never end, that she’d have to bite her tongue forever before dropping her bombshell on him, he saw it.
Across the showroom floor, sat the bike he’d been searching for. Built for speed and distance, with a powerful motor and a sleek, unobtrusive design. Matte dark grey paint that would fade into shadows easily, and enough room for another rider to join him.
The bike of his dreams.
“This is the one, Sheri.” He smiled, patting the seat happily. “Better than I imagined, even. Just look at it.”
“It’s a nice one. Very nice. Looks expensive.” She replied, smiling slyly.
He nodded, grinning even wider now.
Here it was, the moment she’d been waiting for. The words were right on the tip of her tongue, about to burst from her lips, as he looked on expectantly.
“Find one you like?” Interrupted a salesman, approaching the couple with barely disguised glee in his eyes. He’d worked there long enough to recognize an easy sale when he saw one, and here it was judging from the look on Deadblood’s face.
He looked so fucking happy it was ridiculous. Sheri steeled herself.
Deadblood nodded, about to reply when she cut him off.
“This one. Here, make it happen.” She said, flipping him her bank card. He hurried off to make the sale when Deadblood gave her a confused look.
“Sheri? What the fuck?” Deadblood asked, honestly shocked she’d gone through with it.
“What? I bought you the bike.” His eyes were still wide with surprise.
“But your car...” Oh. Apparently he had considered the fact he’d sank her car on the way to the dealership, something that shocked her for a moment. She recovered quickly, shaking her head.
“As soon as we catch The Driller, you owe me a new car, Deadblood. Then we’ll be even.”
