Wild Hearts (Novella) by Tina Wainscott Page A

used bike. His cousin had ended up buying it from him last year.
    He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and smiled. Oh yeah, they were going to be having fits that he’d escaped. No, they would put it like this: “You left without even saying
goodbye
?” His mother would deny having any part of the scheme, blaming Omar and Luis. Or his father. Julian would keep in touch via Skype or Facebook. Other than that, he was staying clear of Orlando.
    He arrived in Nashville around dinnertime, meeting Rath in the parking lot of a seafood restaurant. Rath hardly greeted him before assessing his bike, circling it with a smile. “Chromed accessories. A lot of upgrades.” His smile turned into a cynical smirk. “I bet you didn’t install one of those accessories, did you?”
    “Yeah, I know, ‘a man’s got to work on his own bike if he’s going to get to know her.’ ” Julian had tried and failed to imitate Rath’s Tennessee accent. “But I had no place to work on her, and I didn’t want the family to know I even had the bike. And what, you going to give me a hard time because I didn’t buy a piece of shit and restore it like youdid?” He’d seen plenty of pictures of Betsy, from her rusty inception to her shining red-white-and-blue glory, displayed with the kind of pride a father shows over his offspring.
    “It invests you.”
    “Most of the accessories came with it. But I’ll put my own touches on it when we get to Rod’s shop.”
    One of their stops was visiting a guy from their platoon who’d been injured on a raid and retired.
    Rath knelt and ran his fingers down the angle of the tank. “SS baloney cut mufflers. Ghost flames metallic paint job. Coordinated grips and covers.” He gave an approving nod and stood. “Nice ride. And more importantly, it’s a Harley.”
    Rath had said he wouldn’t ride with Julian if he bought some foreign bike. He’d pronounced it “furr-en,” his redneck twang more evident when he was on a rant. Julian wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not.
    “How’d your homecoming go?” Julian asked, tucking his helmet beneath his arm.
    “Shitty. But no surprise there. You?”
    They headed toward the restaurant’s entrance. “They cuffed me to the bed this morning and sent my ex in to seduce me into staying.”
    Rath turned to him with a skeptical expression. “You serious?”
    “As hell. I sent her out for a condom and gave them all the slip.”
    Rath threw his head back and let out a bark of a laugh. “That’s fucking hilarious.”
    “Yeah, I was laughing my ass off.” Julian gave him a droll look. “As I picked the cuff lock, jumped off the balcony, and did an exfil from my own family’s property.”
    Rath just shook his head, still grinning. “Makes me glad my family doesn’t want me around that bad.” His smile faded. “I spent the week working on all the maintenance projects everyone’s too lazy to take care of. Oh, they had all kinds of excuses. Too hot. Too high up. Too hard.” He made a jerk-off motion, dismissing them with a shake of his head.
    Julian could laugh when it wasn’t his family, especially imagining Rath’s response. The man suffered no fools. “And then you got them all done in a week.”
    “Damn straight. The smartest guy in the family is my younger brother, Carlton, and he’s probably got an IQ in the fifties. Smart common-sense-wise, anyway. When Iget settled somewhere, I’m going to get him out of there.”
    The restaurant was kitschy, with crab traps, fake fish, and other seafood-related items hanging all over the walls. The large room was packed, conversation and laughter pushing in from all sides. Julian scanned the tables, the faces. He felt better once he’d seen no fanatical gleam, no one trying not to be noticed.
    “Give us a table by the wall,” Rath said to the hostess. He smiled as an afterthought. “Please.”
    It was hard to fit back into the social conventions of the civvy world. Julian had been about to say the