by Voss, Deja
“He should be down in a little bit. This whole deal has him all twisted. I think it’s his first taste of president life.”
Brooks was, by far, the best man to be the president of the club. He was fair and kind, and even though he had a violent streak, it only came out when absolutely critical. Calm and calculated, he only made a move if he knew he could keep all of us safe in the process. There’s not an impulsive bone in his body. I’m sure the random chaos of last night really did a number on him.
My sister, on the other hand, well, we were raised differently than Brooks, that’s for sure. They’re a perfect fit for each other. Yin and yang, fire and ice. I can tell she’s chomping at the bit to go to my house and shake down Stacy. I almost feel a twinge of regret sending her there.
“Be nice to her,” I say. That’s all I got.
“I’m always nice,” she says, batting her eyes.
“To who?” Gavin asks. “I’ve known you since the day you fell out of mom, and ever since then you’ve made my life hell.”
She punches him in the shoulder, grabs a six pack of beer from behind the bar, and heads for the door.
“Bye, everyone,” she says. “Fuck you, Gavin.”
“I’m glad I’m the favorite brother,” I laugh. I try to just relax and hang out with the guys, business as usual, but my mind is going in a million different directions. Did I make a mistake sending Esther over there? Lord only knows what she’s going to find out.
“So, do you like her?” Gavin asks. “You’re allowed. I know you’ve had some fucked-up breaks, but sometimes a good woman is the cure to everything. Why do you think Sloan and I work so well. She makes me better, Goob.”
“How can you even say she’s a good woman? You don’t even know her. You didn’t look into her background when you hired her. I’m keeping her at my house to make sure she doesn’t run to the cops and fuck us all over. I’m cleaning up your mess.”
“Well, I think you like her,” he says with a shrug, brushing me off as usual.
The rest of the guys start laughing about “Goob’s got a girlfriend,” and I flick them off, slowly sipping my beer. Once again, I feel like an outsider, like they all know something about life that I’ll never be able to understand. The only thing I actually know is that I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be at my house and I don’t want to be here. That voice in my head that tells me exactly what I need to do to numb that feeling is really loud tonight.
Esther comes back an hour later and the hair on my arms stands up when I see her smiling face. For all I know, she might have killed her.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Goob. I think she’s cool,” she says with a shrug. “I told her she could come work at the ranch if she wanted.”
“What’d she say?” I don’t know why, but the thought kind of pisses me off. I don’t want her to be a stripper. I sure as hell don’t want her to be a prostitute. Why?
“You like her!” she says, kissing me on the forehead. “I can tell by the way you got your fist clenched like you’re fixing to deck me. I swear, I didn’t offer her a job at the ranch. She doesn’t seem like that type.”
“What’d she tell you?”
“Nothing really. We had some beers, I helped her wash the dye out of her hair. She wasn’t acting strange or anything. I don’t know. She’s really normal.”
“Exactly,” I say. “How?”
She is smiling ear to ear, shaking her head. “Some people just are, Goob. Some people just are.”
I go home and find her curled up on the couch in the pitch darkness, the TV on, but the sound turned all the way down. I can hear her heavy breathing. I go back to the bedroom and grab some blankets, covering her with them. I forgot to tell her she could have my bed if she wanted. I don’t mind sleeping out here.
She really does look beautiful and peaceful sleeping away, and she flutters her eyes open for a second and smiles at me.
“Hey,” I say,
“Hey,” she says back, closing her eyes and rolling over, effortlessly falling back to sleep.
I don’t know why, but I just want to stay here in this moment for as long as possible. I feel like, for the first time since meeting her, I actually know her. Watching her back rise and fall, watching her so vulnerable, just dozing away like she doesn’t have a care in the world. It’s confusing. Maybe this way I’ve been feeling, this urge to care for her, isn’t some dark need to keep an eye on her, to protect my club. Maybe I’m actually starting to feel for her.
***
I don’t know how long I fall asleep for. I didn’t set an alarm. I have nowhere to be today, and after the last two days, I’m exhausted. My body aches and my head is pounding, my mouth dry. I lay in bed as long as I can stand, listening for movement out in the living room, wondering what it’s going to be like spending a whole day with her.
There’s a pounding on the front door, and I jump out of bed and throw on some sweatpants. I walk out into the living room and she’s nowhere to be seen, the blankets folded neatly on the couch. There’s a note laying on the island in the kitchen, “Hiking with Esther, be back later,” and I figure she must have locked herself out.
I think it’s nice that Esther wants to show her around the property, but I haven’t gotten a chance to warn her yet that my sister is a “shoot first, ask questions later” kind of girl. If she starts bringing up her past, especially out in the middle of the woods, there’s nothing I can do to protect her. Then again, I think she can probably hold her own. Her and Esther are two peas in a pod.
The pounding continues and I make my way to the front door. I unlock it and throw it open. “Where’d you guys go?” I ask, not even looking.
“I’m sorry, Hank,” she wails, pushing her way inside. It’s not Azalea, it’s not my sister. It’s Delaney, with a blond-haired, blue-eyed little boy in her arms. “Did you not get my messages?”
Chapter 15
Stacy:
I really like Esther.
She seemed really skeptical when she walked into the house and found me dying my hair in Hank’s bathroom, but after a couple beers, the two of us were getting along like we’d been friends for life.
I kept my mouth shut for the most part, answered questions as vaguely as possible, put on my best quiet Stacy Smith act for her, and kept my accent to myself. She didn’t seem to mind. She was more fascinated by the fact that her brother actually let a girl into his house. According to her, his mother messed him up really good, and he’s spent the rest of his life highly suspicious of most women.
“Has he never had a girlfriend?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” She ran her fingers through my scalp, helping me wash the dye out of my hair. “He went away for a few years. He’s had a really fucked-up life. I talked to him here and there while he did the rehab relapse rehab thing, but it was only on his terms. I think he was embarrassed. Maybe he was scared we wouldn’t take him back? All I know is that when shit hit the fan a few years ago, he hopped on a plane back and hasn’t left since. He loves his family. He loves his club. Even if it hasn’t always been so good to him.”
I knew he was a complicated guy, but I didn’t pry. It seemed like if I started asking questions, I’d probably push him away. Esther, on the other hand, this girl is an open book.
We drank beer, we flipped through the channels on the TV, just a casual girls’ night in.
I felt myself nodding off as we sat there in silence, exhausted from the commotion of the day.
“I’m going to get out of here. I’m supposed to be working,” she laughed. “This was fun. Do you like to hike?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll show you around the property tomorrow morning if you want.”
I slept just fine on the couch, only waking up to feel him wrapping me in blankets, not once worrying about anything. Something about this place made me feel safe, something about having him here, even though he’s so distant, made me feel that much less alone in the world.
I just rolled right over and fell back to sleep. We could talk in the morning. If he wanted to, that is.
***
“Do you take cream and sugar?” Esther asks as I open the front door. She’s holding a thermos of coffee, and she puts it in my hand as she walks into the house. “I know my brother isn’t one to keep groceries laying around. I figured you might like this.”
“That’s really thoughtful,” I say. “But actually… we went shopping yesterday.”
“No way,” she giggles. “That’s a first.”
“He was worried I might run out of tampons. Or nipple cream.”
“Nipple cream? I was a prostitute for ten years and never heard of such a thing. Am I missing out on something?”
I try to hold back my laughter, not wanting to wake him. “I have no idea. Maybe we both are.”
“Where is the little shit?” she asks.
“He’s still sleeping. I’m sure he’s wiped after the last few days. I just need to get my shoes on, and we can go.”
“You better leave him a note,” she says. “Or he’ll probably send the dogs out after you.”
My eyes grow wide and I wonder if I should be more skeptical about my current position than I am. Am I getting too comfy? Am I actually being held hostage and I am just in denial?”
“I’m kidding,” she says, noticing my discomfort. “The only dogs around here just want to tackle you to the ground and lick you to death. Or hump your leg.”
I slide my shoes on and we walk out into the cold morning air, the ground dewy and the sun just starting to come up over the mountain. This place is beautiful. It reminds me of home, back when home was a place I liked to be. When we were kids, my brother and I would spend all day out in the woods, climbing trees and looking for snakes, not a care in the world.
She takes me down to the clubhouse, where some prospects are wheeling out garbage cans full of trash to the dumpster.
“That’s the clubhouse during the week. On the weekends, it’s my place. You ever thought about dancing?” she asks.
I burst into laughter. “Trust me, nobody wants to see that. I’m built like a rhinoceros and about as graceful as one, too.”
“Hey, everybody has their thing,” she says, shrugging. We walk down the dirt road to a trailer. “That’s where Olive lives. At least, it’s where she was living. I think she’s in the process of moving.”
“It’s cute,” I say. It’s not much to look at, but I wouldn’t mind having a place like that of my own. It’s private and cozy.
“I have a lot of memories in that place. It was my first house of my own.”
We walk through a little path in the woods to a simple white cottage. Brooks is outside on the front porch in his boxers, smoking a joint and drinking coffee. I can see why Esther is attracted to him; he has this quiet attractiveness about him, and the body of a mountain god.
“I’m sorry,” he says as we walk up on the porch. “I didn’t realize you girls were stopping over here or I would’ve put some pants on.” I try not to blush as he awkwardly covers himself with his hands. “How are you holding up?” he asks.
“I’m ok. I heard Olive is getting out tomorrow. I’m really glad. I can’t imagine what she’s going through right now.”
“I could kill her,” he says, exhaling a huge cloud of smoke with a cough. “That was some next-level dumb shit you guys pulled back there.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, putting my head down. “I was just trying to help.”
“You did the right thing. I just hate that it was the right thing, know what I mean? I don’t ever want to see anyone getting hurt for other people’s bad decisions. It was just a shitty night as a whole.”
“Welcome to the life of the president, chief,” Esther laughs, patting him on the shoulder and pecking him on the lips. “We’re going to keep walking. I’m just showing Stacy around town.”
She shows me the trailer where Heat lives and the little log cabin of Trixie’s. We walk past Austin and Clutch’s bachelor pad, and Forrest’s work in progress of a shanty town he has going, a bunch of outbuildings with chickens and rows and rows of vegetables and fruit growing.
“He keeps the weed in that one,” she says, pointing to a shack with thick ropes of electrical wires coming from every entrance. “He’s kind of an agricultural expert.”
We make a loop, taking the long way back to Hank’s place. The last house we pass is the yellow ranch house that Tank and Red live in. Tank’s in the driveway, hosing down the most beautiful vintage Indian that I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Is this yours?” I ask, breaking away from Esther and running up the driveway.
“I haven’t decided yet. It looks really nice in my driveway, but it’ll look even nicer in my bank account.”
It’s bright red with a paint job that looks like the original.
“This is all original?” I ask, tracing my fingers over the single-cylinder engine.
“Took forever,” he says. “Goob said last night you might be looking for some work until the bar opens back up again?”
“I would love to. Anything you want. Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”
“Asshole,” Esther says. “I was trying to recruit her for the ranch and all you have to do is dangle a shiny piece of metal in her face and she wants to be on your team?”
“It’s better than the stuff she’d have dangling in her face at your place. Let’s be honest.”
Her grin is wide.
“Besides, old Goob already told us how he feels about that. He’s keeping Stacy for himself. Even if he doesn’t know what to do with her.”
They both start laughing, and we head down the road.
“Do you like my brother or not?” she asks, point-blank.
“What kind of question is that? I hardly know him.” He’s been kind to me, and yeah, I definitely want to get to know him better, and I wouldn’t mind a repeat of the other night, but everything in my life is in turmoil right now. I don’t know if I like him, or if I just like the idea of some sexy biker who wants to take care of me while I get to play with motorcycle parts all day. For the first time in a long time, things just seem so easy. Maybe I like him, maybe I just like easy. “Furthermore, you hardly know me.”
“I know enough,” she says. “I know you’re not who you say you are, but I really don’t care about all that.”
“You don’t?”
“Fuck with my club, fuck with my brother, and I’ll start caring real fast, but I think you know that. I think you know how gangs like this work. Unless that tattoo on your hip was just something you did to piss off your dad or something.”
I don’t have words for her. She might be tiny, but I have a feeling she can be really scary if she needs to be. I keep walking down the road towards the house, not saying another word.
“Stacy,” she shouts after me. “Wait up.”
“I don’t understand,” I say. “Why do you trust me?”
“Because. I see the way my brother is acting since you came around. I’ve never seen him like that before. You don’t know much about our family history, but Gavin and I are too far gone. Gavin lives in denial with some woman who makes him think he’s not just another scumbag biker, and I get to live every day knowing that my husband wants kids more than anything in the world and my insides are all fucked up thanks to the choices my dad made for me. Goob’s the only one with a fighting chance, even with all he’s been through. He’s the only one of us who could ever be truly happy. If you are the one who makes him that way, I don’t care who you are or what you are.”
The way she’s frowning, her lips thin, makes her look so much older than she is. I have a feeling she’s seen a lot in her day. Maybe she’s just an old soul.
She’s an old soul, and Goob, he’s a lost soul. Kind of like me.
“He doesn’t want me,” I say. “He’s made it clear.”
“He’ll come around,” she says. “He doesn’t just let anyone into
his world. It’s his way of protecting people from the darkness.”
We crest the hill behind the clubhouse, nearing the house as the afternoon sun starts to hit my back, making me sweat. There’s a car parked in the driveway of Hank’s house, an old brown station wagon that looks like it’s on its last legs, dented and rusting out.
“Is that you?” she asks, spotting the car.
“I’ve never seen that car before.”
It has Ohio license plates. I’ve never been to Ohio before and don’t think I know anyone from there.
“Me neither,” she mutters. She pulls her pistol from the holster on her hip and we walk around the house, looking in the windows, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s going on inside.
“Put that away,” I whisper loudly when I see a little boy wandering around in the living room.
She raises her eyebrows at me, and I just shrug. Her guess is as good as mine, but I guess it’s time to find out what kind of excitement I missed on our morning walk.
Chapter 16
Goob:
“How did you find me?” I stammer.
Delaney looks like shit. I try to remember what she looked like all those years ago when we bailed on rehab together. I try to figure out what could’ve possibly drawn me to this woman. She’s tall and lanky like me, but I can tell by the way she keeps tugging down her sleeves that she’s trying to disguise the signs that she’s still using.
Her skin is blotchy and her teeth are yellowed. She basically looks like a poster child for why you shouldn’t use meth. Her curly blonde hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, and her eyes are bloodshot. There’s nothing beautiful about her, not on the surface, but at that point in my life, she was the most gorgeous women I’d ever seen. She had the only thing I wanted—a willingness to let me back out of my promise to myself to get clean and go running right back to the one thing I loved. At that point in my life, that was the most beautiful thing I could’ve ever imagined.