with the loud motorcycles always come around and try to break our stuff. The policemen don’t help even though we learned in school to go to a police for help. I wouldn’t go to Sheriff Layton for help. He only has two nice people working for him. All the rest are shitheads I want to kick in the boy bits.”
“Kaydee Cantrell, do not use those words!” Crystal chastised her.
“But it’s true. You said so yourself and the word I can’t use with the letter F and—”
Crystal clapped her hand over her daughter’s mouth. “I’m sorry. She has a bit of a mouth on her. This is why we’re using non-curse words now. She’s like a sponge that soaks up everything.”
“It’s okay. I’m going to head to my room and get cleaned up,” Hart said. “Thanks, and I’ll see you around.”
“You’re welcome.” Crystal smiled and he felt that little skip in his chest before he turned away.
Outside in the sun, he dropped his duffle on the back of his bike and put the kickstand up so he could roll the old girl down to his room. In a matter of minutes, just from her daughter, Hart knew Crystal’s problem and the view of the police in Honeywell about said problem. It wasn’t his battle, but he was one of those guys who rooted for the underdog.
Outside his room, as he unlocked the door, he heard the familiar roar of a biker gang and he stood and watched a group of around ten go by. He’d go inside, get a shower, grab some food, and start searching for the parts he needed to fix his bike. As usual another transient so-called bike club had found a place they could cause havoc and decided to stay. He’d seen it before. They didn’t have ties to any community and by the time they left any one place, they had cleaned it out and left when they couldn’t get anything else from the residents. Depending on how long he was stuck in Honeywell, he’d keep an eye out for trouble. Maybe this was just what he needed—an underdog fight.
****
Later that evening, with his laptop in hand, he walked to the office to ask Crystal if he could use her printer. He found the part he needed but since his bike was a rebuild, parts weren’t cheap or easily accessible. After a few hours of searching and cursing, he almost put his baby up on eBay for sale, intent on buying a new one and not giving a damn. But he’d put blood and sweat into rebuilding his bike and even though the trouble of finding what he needed was irritating he was soon rewarded. He found what he needed but it was in freaking Alaska and it would take three weeks to get to him.
The guy had multiple things that he may need in the long run so he purchased them all. He’d use what he needed and ship the rest back to his apartment on base. He wanted to print out the specs so he could have the paper as he took the part off his bike. God knows he didn’t need to kill his Macbook Air as well.
From what he had seen so far, the motel was clean and neat. Crystal obviously kept it up. It definitely wasn’t a dive, which is what he first expected it to be. It consisted of at least thirty rooms in a square format with front door access and a sliding glass door that led to the pool area. As he passed by the sliding glass door he noticed Crystal’s daughter outside in one corner where there was a shaded gazebo area. Flowered vines grew over the wooden structure and it was kind of beautiful and serene in a simple way. Except for the little girl who struggled to turn the large pot off its side and use her tiny shovel to scoop the dirt back into them. He watched as she used her hands when she got tired. She wiped her face and continued her chore . Determined little bit, he thought with a smile. Hart found himself detouring from the office to where Kaydee was.
“Thought your mama said to wait for help with that?” Hart put the case containing his Macbook Air on one of the deck chairs.
“Miss Emma has to work late and the flowers are gonna die.” Her tiny voice held tears and he
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