HitWheels Nep

Mister, please. Is there anybody in this whole damn town who will help us? Four men stood in the rain, their leather vests completely soaked. Their tattooed arms were covered with water, and rain dripped from their beards. Behind them sat four dead Harleys. Behind those bikes were six closed doors. Booker Tate was 68 … Read more

The lunch rush at Miller’s Ridge Diner had finally begun to thin. Outside, the Arizona sun sat hard over Prescott Valley. Pickup trucks baked in the gravel lot. A few motorcycles leaned near the front windows, chrome flashing in the afternoon light. Inside, coffee cups clicked against saucers, an old speaker leaked soft country music, … Read more

The Man Who Came Every Saturday For six months I sat in my car with the engine off and watched a stranger mourn my wife. Every Saturday at exactly two o’clock a Harley-Davidson rolled through the cemetery gates. The rider never hurried and never looked lost. He followed the same winding road between the older … Read more

Forty-one of us had just finished the toy run when Deacon’s phone started buzzing like a live wire. We were still in the hospital parking lot, cold breath hanging in the December air, when he answered. His sister’s girl, barely twenty, was crying so hard the words came out in pieces. The little storefront church … Read more

Silas Pendleton had spent most of his life standing between other people and the dark. At seventy-two he had decided the dark could find someone else. He had been a combat medic in the Central Highlands when he was barely more than a boy, then a trauma nurse in a city hospital that never slept, … Read more

The porch light was already on when I left. My wife didn’t ask where I was going. Twenty-six years married to a man who wears a patch, she already knew. Deacon Harlow got jumped at 6:41 p.m. behind the QuikStop on County Road 14. Not a bar fight. Not a parking-lot shove. Three men in … Read more

It was supposed to be an ordinary evening at home. A teenager was playing video games. His mother was frustrated. The internet was disconnected. And within minutes, a family argument would become a tragedy that no one in the house could ever undo. February 2, 2018. Macon, Georgia. Sixteen-year-old Kevon Watkins was reportedly playing video … Read more

I am Mara. I have poured coffee at Lila’s off Highway 19 since I was twenty. I know the regulars by what they leave on the saucer. His was black. No cream. Same corner stool by the glass. Same quiet face. He came in near dusk, ate two eggs over easy, left a three-dollar tip. … Read more