by Hazel Parker
“Welcome to the Oasis Motel,” Nina greeted, keeping the chipper friendliness out of her voice intentionally. She wanted them to know that she wasn’t looking for “friends” tonight.
“We’ll take two rooms,” one man said. He was middle-aged and hefty, holding a helmet under one arm and wearing a leather jacket zipped all the way up to his chin. Had she been fully awake, she imagined that she’d have heard motorcycles idling outside when they’d arrived.
“Sure,” she agreed, reaching under her desk for her sign-in book. “I’ll just need a little information from you, first.” She set the binder on the desk and handed each man a pen. The one who hadn’t spoken looked considerably younger than the other, probably in his early thirties. He was wearing a leather jacket, too, but he looked much better in it, more like a movie star than a gang member, she thought. He was tall and muscular, with short black hair and stubble on his face from probably a day or two of not shaving. The older man was the one reading the terms of renting out the room, and even though Nina’s eyes were drawn to the younger one, his distasteful frown didn’t escape her notice.
“Is there a problem?” she asked, her tone leaving no room for argument. He decided to slide the book over toward her, anyway.
“This is a lot of personal shit,” he replied. He was chewing on what she’d assumed was gum but she could now smell to be tobacco. Nina looked over the short form she’d given him confusedly. All it asked for was credit card information, but he hadn’t written in a single word, not even his name.
“I need your credit card so I can run your payment,” she replied. “I don’t take checks, here. It’s a truck stop motel. A lot of them bounce, and when they do, I never get my money.” The man rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket, where he pulled out an enormous wad of cash. The bills weren’t small, either—mostly $50 and $100, from what Nina could see as he thumbed through them. He took out a few $20 bills and tossed them onto the desk in front of her with an attitude that she didn’t appreciate.
“Cash,” he said, “plus a tip, if we don’t have to sign them papers.” Nina bit her lower lip pensively. On the one hand, she knew that paying in cash was usually a sign that the guest was shady. It prevented a paper trail and usually ended up being more trouble than it was worth, and if he was offering her $20 more than her per night rate, that probably wasn’t a good sign, either. However, on the other hand, she knew that there was no way that she was going to rent out those rooms tonight to anyone else, and she needed every scrap of business that she could get. She sighed, knowing that this was going to be a big mistake. If Adam were here, he’d turn them away for her—but he wasn’t. Nina reached across the table and took the money, then reached for two sets of keys.
“Wait,” she demanded before either man could take the keys from her hand. “There’s some strings attached.” The older man nodded. “No criminal activity on the premises. If I see drug deals or prostitutes or anything else here, I’m going to make sure it stops. My boyfriend is a cop, so you’re not going to get away with any bullshit in my motel.”
The younger man smiled charmingly, so patiently and breathtakingly that it made her heart flutter in a way that she was a little ashamed of.
“We’re not here to do drugs,” he reassured her, “or to sell them. We just need a place for the night.”
Nina didn’t quite know if she believed that, but something in his eyes told her that he was telling the truth, at least for the most part.
“I’m Vance Murphy,” he introduced, extending his hand for her to shake, “and this is Flip.” The leather glove that he wore was soft and worn, and his hand was cold from the chilly February air. She nodded to Flip as Vance took his hand back.
“Nina Sullivan,” she greeted warily. “This is my motel. I own it and run it pretty much by myself, so it means a lot to me.” It wasn’t quite an apology for her assumptions about their character, but it was as close as she was willing to give, and Vance seemed to understand.
“Hey, we get it,” he dismissed. “Running something like this alone, you’ve got to be careful, especially of guys like us. We’re the ones you’ve got to watch out for.”
He winked, in response to which she gave him a sour look to let him know that the charm wasn’t working, even if that might not have been totally true.
“Well, like I said, my boyfriend is here most of the time. He’s just running errands, right now. He’ll be back.” She purposefully failed to mention that he likely wouldn’t return until the next morning.
“Not a problem,” Vance insisted. “Flip’s only here for a few days, but I’m looking for something a little more permanent. Buddy of ours, Tank, owned a bar down the road a little bit, but he was recently in an… accident. Left me the bar to run.” Nina’s eyes widened a little at that.
“You mean the Nightcap Pub?” she asked, her hand covering her mouth when he nodded. “Oh, my God; I heard about that. Wasn’t he shot or something?” Vance looked pointedly away and she immediately felt guilty for prying.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” he agreed solemnly.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. I’ve only been there a few times, so I didn’t really know him, but everyone around here loves that bar. He seemed like a great guy.” It was true. The Nightcap was a local favorite, one which she’d recommended to visitors even though she herself wasn’t much of a drinker. She’d only gone there a few times with some of Adam’s cop buddies since it had been kind of a louder, rowdier bar with not much to do except drink and play darts, and she usually preferred to do the little partying that she did in trendier clubs with her friends. However, the news that the owner of the bar had been killed in some kind of dispute over drug money that the police said he hadn’t even been involved in had shaken the area to its core, and Nina was no exception.
After talking to Vance and Flip, she had to admit that she did feel a little better about them staying in the motel. Perhaps it was just Vance’s charm that had put her at ease, but she was confident that anyone who was here for unsavory activities would have run at the mention of Adam being a cop, and though they were a little rough around the edges, Vance seemed nice enough, and Flip had mellowed considerably from the first moment he’d shoved the cash in her face. She decided that it wouldn’t hurt to let them stay for at least a night. She could always kick them out if she needed to, after all.
“Alright, gentlemen,” she announced, handing the keys over, “I hate to rush y’all, but I’ve still got work to do before I can go to sleep… and I’d really like to go to sleep.” Vance laughed lightly as he took the keys from her hand, his fingertips brushing hers as they made the transfer. She hated to admit that her initial reaction was to blush.
“We’ll get to our rooms,” Vance agreed. “Thank you, Nina. You have a good night.”
Nina watched them leave the room and sighed, sinking back against her chair and rubbing a tired hand over her face. She’d thought that perhaps some human interaction would wake her up a bit and give her the final boost of energy she needed to get through the final bills, but it appeared that she was so exhausted that it had just taken up the last bit of energy she had, leaving her even more tired than before. One night of turning in early, she decided, wouldn’t kill her—and early for Nina was still 11:00 p.m. She stood up, stretching her back as she did so and reaching for the lamp that illuminated the small office to turn it off. After double checking the locks, Nina decided that she didn’t have the energy to walk all the way back to her home, even if it was less than a ten-minute walk, and opted instead for taking her master key and crashing in one of the vacant rooms, something she did more often than she liked to admit. The bed was a little uncomfortable, but at least she knew that the room was meticulously cleaned, unlike most motels she’d ever stayed at before.
Nina pulled back the covers and turned her phone off. She set the alarm on her bedside table for a disappointingly early hour of the morning and didn’t even bother to change her clothes, just slipped out of
her shoes and jeans and took off her bra before sliding under the covers and closing her eyes. On a normal night, she’d text Adam that she made it back home safely, but it’s not as though he’d know the difference between her pulling an all-nighter working on bills or taking a few hours-long nap here, so she decided not to worry about it. She curled up in the bed which was a little cold, one which made her wish that she was sharing it with someone. Back when she’d been in college, she and Adam had shared the single, small bed in her dorm room quite frequently. He’d always found it uncomfortable, tending to wake up to cricks in his neck or a stiff back, but she’d loved it. Nina had always loved the physical intimacy of just being close to someone, and it sometimes upset her that Adam didn’t seem to have much tolerance for it.
Oh well, she decided, forcing herself to think about anything else but that once more. She couldn’t let herself get upset about something that wasn’t going to change; there was no point to it. She loved Adam the way he was, and she felt guilty having to remind herself of that so often. She took a few deep, meditative breaths, something that always calmed her down, and allowed her mind to drift back to the paperwork that she still had to complete tomorrow, a thought so boring that she was able to fall asleep almost immediately.
A few hours later, Nina sat straight up in bed with her eyes wide open and her heart racing. At first, she thought that perhaps she’d had a nightmare since there didn’t appear to be anything happening in or around her room, but just as she began to collect herself and calm down a bit, she realized what had woken her up—the loud sound of an engine revving outside, followed by the sound of another just beside it. She tried to ignore it, pulling a pillow over her head and rolling over in bed to drown out the sound, but when it went on for several more minutes and was followed by whooping and hollering, she decided that she couldn’t ignore it. She may only have one other guest in the motel, but reputation was everything to a small motel and one bad review online could wreck her chances at ever becoming truly successful here. The last thing she needed was to be known as a loud, rowdy motel where it was impossible to get any sleep because the owner let motorcycles idle in the lot all night long. Nina jumped out of bed, tugging her long coat on over her makeshift pajamas and heading outside.
Unsurprisingly, Vance and Flip were on their bikes, each with a beer in hand and looking as though it wasn’t their firsts. They hadn’t noticed her as she’d run out, but they were about to; she’d make sure of it. Part of her just wanted to call Adam and have him come down and handle it, but that could take quite a while, and by that point, the damage might already be done. With that in mind, Nina gathered her courage, put on a brave face, and marched down to where the two men were laughing and partying.
Chapter 2: Vance
Vance had been on the road more of the time than not for the past few weeks, so now that he was finally in a town where he was going to be staying for quite a while, he was ready to blow off some steam. Spending all day on his bike was great, sure, but damn if it didn’t tire him out. Not to mention the fact that all the talk about Tank had been pretty depressing over the last few days, so he’d welcomed the distraction when Flip opened up the cooler he’d tied to the back of his bike and offered him a few beers instead of heading into his room and going straight to bed, which had been the plan. They’d only just started to decompress a little when the motel owner came storming out of one of the rooms at the end of the strip looking pissed.
“Excuse me,” she demanded, “do you know what time it is?”
Vance knew that it was a rhetorical question, but that didn’t stop him from glancing down at his cell phone to answer it.
“I’d say a little past two in the morning, ma’am,” he replied, teasing her with the respectful title. She looked like she was barely old enough to be of drinking age, not to mention running her own business, and she probably knew that better than anyone. If he played that up, she’d either think he was serious and let them off with a slap on the wrists, or, more likely, she’d get even angrier, and she looked like she’d be a spitfire. Something about little redheads always made him want to push their buttons, and Nina was no exception. She glared.
“People are trying to sleep,” she pointed out angrily. Flip laughed, something that Vance knew would end poorly for him, but he wasn’t about to step in and stop either of them.
“You think this is funny?” Nina said, her tone sounding like a mother scolding a disobedient child. “This place is my life, and I’m not going to let you drive away all my business with your motorcycles.” Vance flashed her an easy half-smile and threw his hands up in resignation.
“Alright,” he caved, “you really told us, Miss Sullivan. Maybe you should punish us; make sure we really learn our lesson.” He took a step toward her, intending to do nothing more than tease her a little, but she quickly retreated into the front office. She took only seconds before she reemerged with something in her hands and a murderous look in her eyes. Nina marched right up to Vance and shoved the $100 into his hands.
“Take your money and leave,” she commanded. “I don’t need people like you hanging around here. If you’re not gone in ten minutes, I’m calling the police.” She turned to go back to her room.
“You mean your boyfriend?” Vance taunted once more, sighing in defeat when that didn’t even get her to turn around. “Wait,” he called, taking a few steps after her. “You don’t need to get the cops involved.” She turned on him, her green eyes wild and bright.
“Why?” she demanded. “You’ve got a record?”
Vance resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “No, and I don’t want one,” he said.
When she didn’t look convinced, he reached into his pocket for his wallet and fished out his driver’s license to hand to her.
“So? What’s your ID supposed to convince me of?”
“If I were paying in cash because I had a record, there’s no way in hell I’d give you my real name,” he explained. Nina looked from the ID to Vance’s face a few times as if she were trying to discern its validity. It was real, of course. He didn’t involve himself in the parts of the club that had direct run-ins with the law. Sure, there were members of the Rebel Kings that had been to prison or who would be jailed if they were caught, but Vance would always prefer to have a lower risk for a lower reward. The Rebel Kings were his family and he’d do anything for his brothers in it, but since the very beginning of joining, he’d always been in charge of the money instead of the product.
“People use fake IDs,” Nina accused.
“I’m not one of them.”
Nina shifted from foot to foot, her hand reaching for her pocket like she was deciding whether she should call that boyfriend of hers. Vance folded the wad of money that she’d shoved into his hands and handed it back to her.
“You can kick us out if you want, but keep this,” he insisted. Nina didn’t look like she believed him, but her need for income clearly won out over her distrust, so she took the money and put it back into her pocket.
“Consider this your only warning,” she threatened. “Next time, the cops will be the ones telling you to keep it down.” Again, she turned and walked away, this time not stopping until she arrived back at the front office. Apparently, the racket and the argument had woken her up enough to work a little more even though she’d been so looking forward to getting some sleep just a few hours ago. Flip, who’d kept remarkably cool through the whole interaction, finally let himself lose it.
“What the hell was that, Vance?” he guffawed. “Tryin’a pick yourself up an old lady?”
Vance shoved him so harshly that he teetered drunkenly on his motorcycle but managed to keep his balance, still cackling the whole time.
“What, you wanted to find another motel this late?” he dismissed. Truthfully, he had been flirting. Nina was cute and clearly brave enough to come face two grown men on bikes without any backup. He liked that in a woman—ballsy, confident.
“You think she’s hot shit, y
ou should go sleep with her,” Flip suggested.
“No,” Vance shut him down. Nina didn’t seem like the type of lady who was looking for a one-night stand, and she already didn’t seem to like him very much. Since he knew that there was a good chance he’d be staying here for at least two weeks, possibly more, while he found an apartment near the bar, he didn’t particularly want to burn his bridges with the owner of the only motel for miles.
“Aw, so you’re finally going soft?” Flip accused teasingly, making crude gestures over his crotch. Vance tried to laugh it off.
“I’m going to bed,” he announced, hoping it would get his friend off his case. Flip had been someone he’d looked up to for a long time, now. He was an old family friend who’d taken him in when his dad had kicked him out at 18 with no job and no money. Though his mother had always warned him against getting too involved with the bikers his dad was so close with, Vance had never had any intention to take her advice. His dad hadn’t been a rider—his back had been wrecked in the army and his personality had gone sour after years of enduring the pain and taking pills for it. However, he’d been the best detailer in their little town in Missouri, so good that the Rebel Kings had decided to make his shop their go-to paint shop, claiming that others either ripped them off or didn’t do as good a job as his dad could. They were right, too: for all the pain and the yelling, the man was an artist, and passionate about his work. Every bike he painted was done as if it were his baby, and it showed in the final product.
Flip went through more bikes than any of the Kings that Vance had ever met. He was picky about the look and feel of the bike, and once he finally found one that he really liked, he was on the road so much that it either got vandalized in a shitty neighborhood or broke down from all the miles he put on it. He never tended to keep a bike more than a year, so he was at Vance’s dad’s old place frequently. Vance had grown up helping out around the shop and had become so infatuated with motorcycles that he’d sworn that as soon as he turned 18, he was going to save up and buy one for himself. Instead, Flip had bought him one for his high school graduation and that’s when he’d left home and never looked back. The Rebel Kings had become the family that he’d been missing for so long. They let him be independent without constantly worrying, like his mother, but also looked out for him more than his father ever had growing up. Maybe it wasn’t the most functional family, but they were his brothers, all of them, and he looked up to Flip the most. He’d never admit it, because it’d go straight to his head, but he really did want Flip’s respect, and that wasn’t something that he could earn without taking some risks, even if they were stupid. Sometimes that meant playing into Flip’s dumb-ass dares.