![]() ![]() Soledad lets go of his hand and shrugs off her pack. “And we brought some personal gifts,” he adds. Not everybody knows you can cross five state lines in a month and a bicycle will carry you past the point where your legs give out. “Bicycles” sound like something frivolous, out of the old times, and not everybody understands what’s needed in the here-and-now. “The kind that’ll last when there’s no gas left.” “No engines,” Gabe says, firm and deliberate. ![]() “What kind of bikes you mean? Motorcycles or the other ones?” The bouncer taps a finger against his forearm. “What can you give her?” the man at the door asks. Soledad tries not to stare at the ground. “We want Queen Mary’s protection,” he says, brazen as anything. His attentive green eyes stare from under thick lashes, and his hair lies flat even when it’s desperately in need of a cut. Soledad lets Gabe do the introductions because most strangers see him as the more respectable sibling.
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