Riding Dirty by Abriella Blake Page A

road. When the engine died, there was only the sound of crickets to stir the silence. Rowan was loath to break the quiet spell of the desert night, though questions were circling in her mind.
    Kicking out the stand to balance his bike, Bronson shook his head out of his helmet and stepped away, stretching. Rowan followed his lead, letting her legs flow in quiet plies. There was a sign looming above them identifying trailheads for a hiking path matrix in Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area. So that’s where they were. But…why?
    Bronson must have been able to feel Rowan’s curiosity burning through his back because without turning back to look at her, answered one of her unspoken questions.
    “I used to hitchhike out here as a kid,” he said, surveying the darkened, layered canyon walls that cupped their parking area. The only visible break in their shadowy majesty was the thin ribbon of moonlit highway gouging down their middle like a sparkling stream. “After school, there was nowhere really to go. I was sure as shit not staying with the latchkey program, figured that out after a week. So I’d ditch ‘em and bum rides out to Red Rock, follow tour groups around pretending to be one of the tourist families’ kids. No one bothered me.
    Seeing coyotes, cactuses, and those cliffs. It was the first taste I had of the world outside Vegas. I mean it’s not really out of Vegas, only half an hour, but it’s another planet out here. Nature. It’s vicious, epic, you know? You’ll have to come see it in the daylight, the colors. I’ll take you sometime. It’s…majestic.”
    Rowan cocked an eyebrow. Without seeing Bronson’s face, it was impossible read his features to gauge his mood. He’d never revealed anything personal before. “Wow. It’s not like you to use such big words.”
    He surprised her by laughing good-naturedly. “You don’t have to finish high school to appreciate Red Rock. Or be able to hold a conversation.”
    “I suppose you don’t have to have an education to be intelligent,” she allowed, “But the smart thing to do is to get one.”
    Bronson shrugged. “I had a different kind of education.”
    Rowan was surprised by his chattiness, and didn’t jinx it with questions. “I’m working on a masters degree,” she said. “Well, I was. I took a break to come here.”
    “Of course you’re a smarty-pants, I should have known. I can just see it. You wear glasses and shit? Braces as a kid?”
    Rowan kicked at the dirt. “Couldn’t afford braces. No glasses.”
    Bronson nodded, offered her a drag on his cigarette.
    “No thanks,” Rowan shook her head. “I don’t smoke.”
    “I was hitching rides out here when I met Axle, and the rest is history. He was cruising down Blue Diamond Drive with his son. We’re about the same age, me and Rex. They saw me, stopped to ask where I was going. I said ‘nomad.’ I was going nomad. Guess we were talking about nomads in social studies or something. I thought I was running away from home, looking for a caravan to travel with. He gave me one.”
    The wind teased at Rowan’s hair, shifting things. She realized suddenly that Bronson was trying to tell her something. “How old were you?”
    “Guess about ten.”
    “So young,” she sighed. “You didn’t have a chance.”
    “Sure, Axle gave me my chance.” The warmth and humility in his voice surprised Rowan. “Started me boxing, riding. What do you think I would have been otherwise? I’d have gone junkie like my mom, probably, in high school. Ended up burned out in a meth house somewhere. My point is, what you’re doing for your sister, it’s worth it. A kid needs a pack, needs someone looking out for them and keeping them alive. Not all of us have big sisters, but she does. She’s a lucky kid.”
    Stunned, Rowan wasn’t sure how to respond. She reached for a joke, hiding her embarrassment. “Well, it’s hard to imagine you with a big sister. You probably wouldn’t have listened to