Page 18 of Valley
AS WE ROAREDdown the interstate, the feel ofMadeline on the back of my bike was electric, even more exhilarating than the usual rush I got from riding my Harley. The idea of meeting her dad had never crossed my mind, and the sight of him in a wheelchair, legs gone, took me by surprise. The photos on the end table told a silent story of his service, hinting at the sacrifices he made. It was clear Madeline was holding everything together financially.
The roads twisted and turned as I took the exit. I knew a spot with a secluded, beautiful overlook, a discovery from a club run, not far from a cave we used for club business. Madeline’s gripremained tight around me as I steered the bike down a narrow dirt path and killed the engine. The second she loosened her hold and dismounted, I missed her warmth.
She shook out her hair and smiled widely. “That was amazing,” she said, her eyes bright with excitement. “I was terrified at first, but once we got going, it was like flying.”
“Nothing compares,” I replied, taking her hand. “I got hooked the first time my dad put me on a bike.”
She glanced around, curiosity lighting up her face. “Where are we?”
I pointed to the overgrown path. “There’s an overlook up ahead. You can see for miles.”
Hand in hand, we walked the trail, her fingers snug in mine. “Do you come here often?” she asked, but I knew she meant if I brought other women here.
“I haven’t been here in almost a year,” I said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “And never with someone as special as you.”
“You’re such a flirt,” she laughed softly. “No wonder women fall at your feet.”
“There’s only one woman I want falling at my feet,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows and shooting her a mischievous grin that made her blush.
When we reached the clearing, she gasped. “This is beautiful.”
“There’s more,” I said, leading her to a large rock at the cliff’s edge. We sat down, our feet dangling.
“This is a little scary,” she admitted, peering down.
“I won’t let you fall. Promise.”
“I trust you,” she whispered, squeezing my hand.
Looking at her, I realized just how incredibly lucky I was to have her here with me. The desire to know everything about her—every secret, every story—consumed me.
The horizon called my gaze for a moment, but my eyes were drawn back to her, mesmerized by the sunlight dancing in her hair, casting a golden halo around her. “Tell me what your life’s been like since high school,” I said, my voice dropping to a low, intimate tone that felt almost foreign to my own ears. I never used to be that fucking guy that gave a shit—until now.
Madeline’s eyes widened slightly. She bit her lip, considering. “There really isn’t much to tell. I started working several jobs, and that kept me super busy, and then along came Ellie. My life is really boring,” she admitted with a small shrug, though her eyes betrayed a world of unspoken stories.
“You work at a dance studio,” I said, not understanding how she could see her life as boring. “What do you teach?”
“A little bit of everything, from exercise classes to modern dance. I love it; it never feels like work. But it just doesn’t pay enough to do full time, unfortunately.”
I sensed there was more beneath the surface, and I probed gently, “You don’t have to tell me, but who is Ellie’s dad?”
Her gaze dropped to the ground below us, her voice barely above a whisper. “Asher Collins.”
A surge of anger I couldn’t contain bubbled up my memories of him. “That fucking preppy prick,” I spat before I could stop myself.
Her eyes snapped to mine, hurt flickering in their depths. “It’s just... he was always such an asshole. I wasn’t insulting you,” I quickly added, desperate to erase the hurt.
She gave a sad smile, the kind that cut deep. “No, you’re right. He was an asshole. But I thought I was different. I thought for once a guy really loved me and was going to take care of me. But he had been lying to me for the entire two years of our relationship.”
“Lying how?” I asked, my hands clenching involuntarily. I could feel the rage building, already planning my next move against that piece of garbage.
“He had a whole other life away at college. A girlfriend he intended to marry because she was going to be ‘something.’ Not like me. Women like me were fun distractions. He was very hurtful with his words,” she confided, her eyes now lost in the mountain’s vast expanse. My blood boiled. This guy was going to pay.
“Does he have contact with Ellie?” I asked, my voice barely controlled.
She shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “No, he swore he would never acknowledge her. So Dad and I discussed it and decided to give him what he wanted. Asher signed his rights away to her without a fight.”
“No financial support?”