Page 22 of Pride

I choked, and then swallowed hard. “Dollars?”

“Yep.”

“US dollars? American money? Like, actual dollars? Three million?” I whispered.

“That is correct.”

“Holy crap. What are you going to do with it?”

He stretched his leg over the gas tank, lowered himself into the seat, and then jostled the motorcycle back and forth, as if checking its weight. “Get on with my life.”

I sat on the seat behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Where are you wanting to live?”

“Along the coast. Somewhere close to here, I’m sure. I need to be where the weather will let me ride all year round. All I need to do is find some men to ride with.”

“Should be easy in this part of the country,” I said. “The weather is beautiful.”

He started the bike, and then revved the engine. “Hold on. It’ll probably be a squirrelly ride with all this weight.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the beach”.

“With all this gold?”

“I promised you the beach,” he said. “And I’m a man of my word.”

With three million dollars’ worth of gold in tow, we headed for the beach. Because Fisher Knox said we would.

Yeah. He was an anomaly.

That much I was sure of.