by Hazel Parker
She had to talk to him, she decided. Vance wasn’t going to get out of this so easily. He deserved to know that she remembered what he’d done and that she wasn’t happy with the fact that he’d taken advantage of her vulnerability, in her emotional and inebriated state. She picked up his jacket, not putting it on this time even though it was cold, and stormed down to his room to tell him off. After knocking on the door for several seconds, she looked to the parking lot and realized that his motorcycle was gone, meaning that he’d likely gone to the bar already. She found that she didn’t care, however. They were dealing with this now, no matter where they had to do it.
Nina got into her car and didn’t even bother to turn on the radio as she drove straight to the Nightcap. Caffeine cravings suddenly forgotten, she felt nothing but indignation and energy as she practiced what she might say in her head, going over her words a bit nervously until she found a general approximation that felt right. By that time, with no real traffic on the road this early on a weekend, she’d arrived at the bar, parking her car haphazardly in the closest spot to the door and slamming the car door shut.
“Vance!” she called, pounding on the door of the bar when she found that it wasn’t unlocked yet. “It’s Nina; open up!” She wasn’t sure whether Vance could hear her, so she continued on her tirade for several minutes until she heard shuffling on the inside of the building and the sound of the door unlocking. Vance was standing inside, looking casual and decidedly not guilty or nervous when he looked at her. Did he think that she’d forgotten what had happened? Was that why he’d given her so much to drink?
“Hey, Red,” he greeted, his voice a little rough from clearly being the first conversation that he’d had all day.
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. It had been fine when he was being friendly, but now, it enraged her.
He blinked a few times in surprise. “Okay,” he agreed slowly, “fine. I’ll bite. What’s up?” Nina felt the tips of her ears go red again with anger.
“You left your jacket last night,” she accused as if that explained everything, shoving it into his hands with some force.
“Uh, thanks,” he said, standing aside so that she could see the whole inside of the building. “Do you want to come in?” Nina took him up on the offer without abandoning her rage, crossing her arms expectantly as she watched him toss the coat on the end of the bar so that he could continue getting things ready for the morning. He was setting out the mugs from the dishwasher, something that he probably would have done last night if he hadn’t been so busy driving her home and making a move on her.
“You took me home last night,” she said. He nodded.
“You’re welcome,” he had the nerve to say.
“You kissed me.”
Vance actually laughed a little, to Nina’s disbelief. “Oh, so you remember that,” he said lightly.
“It’s not funny,” Nina scolded, but it didn’t extinguish the playful look in Vance’s eye.
“That’s not why I’m laughing,” he explained. “You kissed me, Nina. I didn’t make the first move.”
Nina halted in her assault for a moment, hesitating and pulling back. “I did not kiss you,” she denied.
She tried to think back to the night before, tried to picture him standing there, probably shivering cold because he’d given Nina his coat after giving her free drinks and listening to her complain about her boyfriend all night before driving her home when he could have just as easily called her a cab or told her to figure her own way home. She remembered how much she’d loved being on the back of the motorcycle, how it had been the most daring thing she’d done in so long and how much she’d wanted more of that danger, that feeling of staring death in the face and not blinking. It made sense; it was a perfect storm. However, Nina was, and always had been, a good girl. She’d always been home before curfew no matter how much fun she’d been having and she hadn’t drank underage with all the other girls in her high school and she’d never cut classes in college even when she could have gotten away with it. Nina’s fear of disappointing people was stronger than her desire to take risks, and she’d relied upon that her whole life. But if that had been compromised by the alcohol and the mood and the fight, could Vance be telling the truth? Looking back at his face again, so earnest and unflinching, she felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her.
“Oh, my God,” she murmured, “I kissed you.” Vance rolled his eyes, already back to focusing on things for the bar rather than listening to her have a crisis of fidelity.
“Relax,” he brushed her off. “You were drunk, and it was barely more than a peck. I’ve had hotter make out sessions with really good sandwiches than what we did last night.”
For some reason, defying logic, that offended her a bit, but she couldn’t very well tell him that.
“You shouldn’t have kissed back,” she accused. He shrugged.
“I’m only a man.” Before she could argue with him further, their attention was drawn to the bar window by the sound of a motorcycle pulling into the parking lot, idling for a moment, and finally cutting off. Nina could tell by the confusion on his face that Vance wasn’t expecting a guest, and it was too early to have customers yet, even for the morning drinkers. The rider hopped off their bike and began to walk confidently toward the bar with a gait that seemed to mean business before pulling off the helmet to reveal long hair pulled into a ponytail and a pretty face—a female rider who, if the look of shock and dread on Vance’s face was anything to go by, was not a stranger.
“You know her?” Nina asked, and Vance nodded, setting his jaw sternly as the woman opened the door. She was beautiful—tall and with long, dark hair, a curvy body, and a sense of fashion that screamed that she was not someone to be messed with.
“Murphy,” she greeted, her tone unfriendly and demanding.
“Amelia,” he replied, nodding toward her. “I thought you never wanted to see me again.” She laughed.
“You thought right,” she said. “I’m here for business, definitely not pleasure.” She looked at Nina, her eyes scanning her from head to toe scrutinizing her, before smiling in amusement. “Is this your new girlfriend?” she asked, not waiting for an answer. “Little piece of advice: he’s an asshole. Run while you still can.”
“She’s a friend, Melly,” he rolled his eyes, but Nina could see that she didn’t quite believe that.
“Yeah?” she questioned, not breaking eye contact with Nina even when she agreed. “Well, I say run, anyway, because you won’t be for long.” Nina wasn’t given a chance to ask what that meant before the two turned their attention back to one another.
“What is it that you want?” he asked. “You know I have to tell Flip that you’re even here, right?”
She reached into her pocket threateningly, adjusting something around inside it that Nina understood was a weapon without her even having to take it out.
“Whatever you’ve got to do, babe,” she dismissed. “I just want to talk.”
“That sounds familiar,” he joked sourly, but she didn’t laugh.
“You intruded on our turf, Vance,” she accused, and he went still.
“Turf?” Nina couldn’t help but parrot. “What is she talking about, Vance? Who is this?”
Vance’s posture was stiff as he gestured toward Amelia with one hand. “Nina, meet Amelia McGraw,” he introduced. “My ex-girlfriend.” Nina frowned in confusion, but felt that neither of them wanted her to ask any questions about it. Why would Vance’s ex be here in the bar if she’d told him that she never wanted to see him again? What business could she have with him? And what the hell did she mean by “turf?”
Chapter 6: Vance
Of all the times that Amelia could have picked to show up out of the blue and bring up shit about the Devil’s Disciples, of course it had to be the one time that Nina had also come to chew him out about last night. So much for being a ladies’ man. It had been two years since he’d even seen or spoken to Amelia, which meant that
it had been about six months more than that since they’d dated last. Right now, however, his priority wasn’t rehashing the disastrous end of this relationship, it was getting Amelia out of here until, at the very least, Nina had left.
“Listen, Amelia, can we do this some other time?” he asked, trying to usher her out unsuccessfully as she didn’t move. That was one thing that clearly hadn’t changed about Amelia. She may have grown out her hair and looked a little more fit, but she was still just as stubborn as she’d ever been. If she wanted to talk about something this moment, then that’s what they were going to do.
“We’re doing it now,” she shut him down. “If you want to excuse your girlfriend, you can, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Nina, apparently just as stubborn, bristled. “I was here first,” she argued to Amelia, “and I’m not done with him. I get to finish.” That, Vance knew, was a mistake. Again, he admired the balls it took to talk to a stranger like that, especially one who looked so intimidating, but Amelia wasn’t the right person to call a bluff upon, because she was never bluffing.
“You are now,” she snapped. “Whatever little lover’s spat you’re having can wait. Our shit is important.”
Nina crossed her arms defiantly. “Fine,” she caved slightly, irritably. “You can have your argument first, but I’m not going anywhere.” Vance sighed.
“Nina, please, this isn’t—”
“She can stay if she wants to,” Amelia demanded. “If she’s involved with you, she deserves to hear this, anyway. You said you’ve gotta talk to Flip about the fact that I came to see you. Maybe while you’re on the phone with him, you can ask him why the fuck your guys were in Devil’s Disciples territory.” Vance reached up to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose to massage away the tension headache.
“You know that’s not something I’m involved in,” he reminded her.
“Do I know that?” she asked. “Because it seems like you’ve changed jobs, recently, taking over for that trespasser.” Vance’s blood ran cold at the mention of Tank. If she knew something about what had happened, he wanted to hear it, but at the same time, he was also pretty sure that he couldn’t believe a thing that she said. Their breakup hadn’t been pretty, even if it had been mutual and even despite that it had been a few years since they’d last spoken. She’d cheated on him with some guy she’d met in a bar, but she swore that she wouldn’t have done it if he paid more attention to her, and part of him believed that: he didn’t have much time to spend with her. He’d been constantly trying to prove himself with the guys, and that had always taken precedence over their relationship. He cancelled dates to run errands for the club, stayed out late with the guys, and never told her what he was up to. At the time, he’d been sure that he was protecting her. It was his intention, anyway, to ensure that she wasn’t involved in more than what she could handle, but that had only backfired. Instead, she’d attempted to prove to him that she could handle the lifestyle by joining the Rebel Kings herself, making herself their only female member, something that had pissed him off so much that he’d said things to her in that argument that they hadn’t been able to recover from it. He’d driven her into the arms of another man, he knew, and even though that didn’t make it right, he still had felt a little bit responsible for the part he’d played in the demise of their relationship. He knew he’d really hurt her, enough that she’d turned around and joined the Devil’s Disciples instead because she didn’t want to see him again but had gotten so far involved in the biker life that she couldn’t back out anymore. He sometimes felt like he’d ruined her potential, even though she hadn’t exactly been a “good girl” when they’d met.
“Are you talking about the guy who worked here before Vance?” Nina asked when he’d apparently taken too long to respond.
“Shut the hell up and stay out of this,” Amelia snapped, and Vance stood up a little straighter.
“Don’t talk to her like that,” he demanded. “She doesn’t know anything about this shit, and it’s none of her business. That’s why I wanted to do this without her.”
“None of my business?” Nina echoed. “It’s my business when you’re living in my motel. If you’ve got some kind of drug business you’re running—”
“I don’t,” Vance reassured. “I don’t do that part of it.”
“Part of what?”
“Enough!” Amelia finally shouted, forcing the attention back on herself. “You’ll get your turn to talk when I’m finished. Vance, for once in your fucking life, can you just listen to me?”
Vance could see the sincerity in her face and, for a moment, saw that this was about more than just club business. She hadn’t been forced to come talk to him; she’d volunteered so that he’d have to talk to her. There was something that she wanted him to know, wanted him to see, and, as always, big, stupid moves like this were the only way to get his attention.
“Let’s sit,” he caved. Both of the women hesitated, but nodded and followed him to the bar, sitting in the seats as he went around the other side so that he could work a little more on the dishes so he could at least have some hope of opening on time. Once they felt like they’d both be heard, the mood had shifted into a much calmer one.
“Okay, Amelia,” he prompted. “Talk. I’m listening.”
“Vance,” she began. “You’re playing with fire; all the Kings are. Micah—the Disciple’s leader—Micah needed to send someone to tell you that if you don’t stay out of our territory, that it’s going to get ugly again. I wanted to make sure that I was the one to tell you because I didn’t want one of the guys to hurt you.”
Vance blinked in surprise. “It wasn’t so you could be the one to yell at me?”
Amelia cracked the ghost of a smile that he’d learned to read as a grin, coming from her, particularly now that she hated him as much as she did—or at least he’d thought she did.
“That, too,” she admitted. However, the joking didn’t take the gravity out of the situation.
Tank hadn’t just been warned; he’d been killed. Vance had been told that it was just a random act of violence by their biggest rival gang, but if he’d been targeted for actual distribution-related reasons, if boundaries had been crossed and they’d stepped foot in territories that did not belong to them and that had been what had provoked the violence… Well, that was something that he needed to know. Tank had been a lot like Vance in terms of his role in the group—he ran the bar and handled the money, but didn’t touch any of the dirt that went into it. At least, that’s what Vance had thought. If that wasn’t true, though, what did that mean for their future? Was he eventually going to be asked to do the same things that Tank had done? He didn’t care about the danger; he loved his brothers and he’d lay down his life for them. That was part of the deal: they’d do the same for him. But he didn’t like growing marijuana and he especially didn’t care for chatting with drug dealers, so he’d always been more suited toward these sorts of monetary or business roles, where the only thing that he ever had in his possession was cash.
“Well, thanks,” he finally uttered. If she’d really come all this way to warn him, especially if she’d admitted it, he owed her at least that. “I’ll talk to Flip and tell him that there’s trouble. I won’t mention you by name.”
She nodded. “I don’t give a damn what you do, Murphy,” she said, standing from her seat at the bar and picking her helmet back up. “Just as long as you keep your damn bikes out of our zone.” He nodded as she pointed to his chest threateningly, then watched as she turned to leave.
“Thanks for stopping by,” he called. “See you around.” Amelia allowed one clipped laugh to slip past her lips.
“Let’s hope you don’t,” she said as she pushed open the door of the bar and left. He and Nina watched her as she hopped back on her bike and got back on the road without any further interaction, trying to convince both of them that she wasn’t going to come back again when really, he had a strong feeling that wasn’t the last ti
me he’d see his ex-girlfriend in the near future. With Amelia gone, Nina’s focus had effectively shifted from last night’s kiss to the conversation that she had no business being involved in.
“What was all that about?” she asked, and Vance groaned as he continued to dry the dishes he was finishing up.
“Nina, can you please just drop it?”
“You live in my motel,” she reminded him, “which basically means that you live with me. It’s my business, and I deserve to know whether or not you’ve got some kind of illegal activity that you’re running inside it. So, what are the Rebel Kings? A gang?”
“No,” he denied. “And I’m not running anything out of your motel. I have strict policies about bringing work home with me, so I stay away from the parts of this that give you no other choice.”
“And what is ‘this?’” she asked, gesturing to his whole body. “You blow in out of nowhere with some other guy on a motorcycle saying that you’re here to take over a bar whose previous owner got shot to death. Your friend leaves and now you’ve got women coming into town just to threaten you about territories? How am I supposed to believe you’re not in a gang, Vance?”
He took a deep breath to steady himself. Nina was right, in a way. She was allowing him to live in the motel, so she had the right to know whether she should kick him out for criminal activity, and there was no way that he could expect her to believe him that it wasn’t happening without some kind of proof.
“Alright,” he finally buckled. “I’ll tell you what I can. But you’ve got to promise me that not a word of this gets back to that boyfriend of yours. I’m not selling drugs or anything, but that doesn’t mean that I need the cops breathing down my neck all the time, you got it? If he finds out and word reaches my buddies, I’m in big trouble with a group of people you don’t want trouble with.” Nina nodded, seeming to accept these terms blindly. He wondered why she was so eager to believe him. She wasn’t stupid, that was for sure, but she sure wasn’t being as skeptical as he thought maybe she should. Perhaps she was just baiting him, trying to figure out whether he’d give away some kind of secret that she could give to the cops so that she wouldn’t have to apologize to Adam for the kiss, or maybe that had been part of the setup. At that thought, he grimaced.