by Voss, Deja
I inhale the smoke into my lungs and let my body go numb. Brooks laughs and snatches it from me.
“Is this how you pictured our twenties?” he laughs. “All the old bastards are inside fighting and fucking and we’re out here hiding out like a couple of grandpas.”
The truth is, I never really pictured my twenties. Or any future for that matter. I’ve always just gone with the flow, did what the club expected of me. There was really no other option in my mind.
Someone’s crying loudly from across the yard. I mean bawling so hard it sounds like she’s going to throw up. It’s not an unusual occurrence around here, you take a bunch of drugs and booze, add in a group of guys who all think they’re the alpha dog, and throw in a whole lotta mental health issues, and at the end of the day, somebody is going to probably do some crying. I feel bad for these dirty birdie club sluts to some extent; they think they’re up here having fun and making a better life for themselves, but instead, they usually end up worse for the wear.
“Who is that?” Brooks whispers. I pick my head up just enough to see the lanky brunette sitting on the steps of the porch, her head in her hands.
“It’s whatshername… Ava… Dad’s new thing.” I have no idea where this girl came from, she can’t be much older than me. All I know is he showed up one day with her on the back of his bike and started joking about my new stepmom.
It’s not that I like the fact that she’s sitting there crying, but honestly, it’s not my place to do anything about it. She had to have known to some extent exactly what she was getting into when she started running around with the president of the Mountain Misfits. My dad wears his cold black heart on his sleeve. Hopefully she’ll come to her senses and go back to wherever she came from before he has a chance to do more to her than just make her cry.
“Where you going?” I whisper to Brooks as he stands up and dusts the grass off his jeans. “Let her be.”
I love Brooks like a brother, but he’s like a freaking coyote going after a rabbit in distress. Sad chicks are his thing. I don’t care how sad she is, messing with my dad’s old lady is fucking dumb.
He’s sitting next to her on the porch steps by the time I stumble over there, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. The truth is, she doesn’t look like it makes her feel any better. In fact, she’s sitting there like a statue, unmoving, just staring out into the night, her blue eyes still wet with fresh tears and her plump lips twisted into a mean snarl.
She’s a knockout. I can see why my dad is so into her. She’s got this lace pink tank top on that barely covers her tits, her arms and legs long and thin, and her body curvy, but her face, her eyes, there’s something different about this girl. I don’t think she belongs here, that’s for sure. She looks like the kind of person whose spirit hasn’t been broken yet.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Nothin’,” she says. She slides out from under Brooks’ grip. “I guess I’m just homesick.”
“I can take you home in the morning if you want,” Brooks says. “You can crash at my place.”
“Are you high?” she asks, like he just said the dumbest thing in the world.
“Yeah, actually, a little.” He starts to laugh and gets up from the step. “I didn’t mean any harm. You just looked like you needed a friend.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and stumbles off across the lawn, whistling a little tune to himself.
“Are you alright, Ava?” I ask. “Did he hurt you?”
She pulls down the top of that low-cut tank top of hers; a big red bloody bite mark sits right on the top of her breast. “Is he always like this?” she asks, wincing as I run my fingers over it.
“Violent? Possessive? Unpredictable? Ava, you need to get the hell out of here before you’re in over your head. This isn’t a place for you. You’re too young. You’re too pretty.” She’s so pretty. So perfect, and my dad is going to ruin her. This is so dumb of me. I shouldn’t even be talking to her.
She sighs and closes her eyes. “You don’t even know me, Micah. You don’t know anything.”
She’s right. I don’t know anything, but right now, I want to know everything. It’s stupid and crazy, but I think I’m in love with this girl. I barely know more about her than her name, but something inside of me is telling me that I need to protect her. I need to make her mine. I need to get her away from my dad and have her as my own.
I lean in and press my lips to her forehead, smelling her hair, the mixture of sweat, tobacco, and fresh cut flowers lingering in my brain. I love this woman, this woman I’m not supposed to want anything to do with. I want to keep her safe, and bringing her close to me is the worst possible way to do that, but she’s a magnet. I need to be near her.
“I gotta go,” she says, looking over her shoulder nervously.
“You do,” I say, in spite of this powerful lust building inside of me. “You need to go home, Ava. I don’t want to see you around here anymore. Disappear. Go back to where you came from.”
The way she nods, I can tell what I’m saying is going in one ear and out the other. “Okay.” She walks back inside, and I watch her every move, even the way she walks, with this strange confidence and grace, really gets to me. As much as I hope she heeds my advice, as much as I hope I never see this girl again, I don’t want to lose her. I don’t even know her and I don’t want to lose her.
“I’m going to bed,” I say to Brooks, who’s now sitting on the picnic table.
“She’s hot, dude. How did your old man pull that off?”
“She’s not for us, brother,” I say, shaking my head. “Not for any of us.”
I’m so drunk, it takes everything in me to take my boots off when I get to my apartment. I fall asleep on top of the comforter in my jeans and t-shirt, picturing that pretty face of hers, so sad and yet so certain that this is right where she’s supposed to be.
The knock on the door is soft, but it stirs me from my slumber. I shuffle across the room and look out the peephole. I really really shouldn’t fucking answer the door right now.
I have to, though. It’s not logical. It’s not practical. It’s not even kind of smart, but something primal inside of me is making my hand wrap around the doorknob and turn.
She doesn’t say a word, just walks straight to my bed and turns down the covers, sliding in between my sheets fully clothed. I pull the covers over her body and lay on top of the comforter, staring at the ceiling. I should probably go upstairs and tell my dad, because if he caught wind of this, he’d definitely fucking kill me.
Instead, I just lay there, my mind going a million directions. I don’t know anything about this girl, but I do know that she deserves to feel safe, even if it’s only for a few hours. Even if it’s only in her sleep.
Chapter 16
Current day:
I haven’t seen the old farmhouse restored to its glory yet. Apparently Gavin spent a couple years restoring my grandfather’s home, the place where the Mountain Misfits went from an idea in my grandpa’s mind to a reality.
As I pull my bike into the gravel driveway, a giant Rottweiler comes sprinting at me full speed, and as soon as I shut it down, she flops on her back and kicks her legs in the air and I bend down and rub her belly.
“Nice guard dog you got, Gav,” I chuckle as he walks down the steps, toting a child in his arms.
“You want to meet your Uncle Micah?” he asks the little girl, her face pressed into his shoulder. She’s wearing a pink tutu and a princess crown, and this whole scene is wildly different than anything I’d expect from him. Seeing my brother all grown up makes me proud, but it also makes me feel a little inferior. I definitely don’t have anything like this to show for my life. Just a bunch of scars and stories, nobody to show or tell them to.
“I have more uncles? How many?” she squeals.
“Hell if I know,” Gavin shrugs. “I’m sure there’s a few we don’t know about. This is Evie,” he says, handing her off to me. She stares into my eyes, she strokes my beard
, then promptly wipes her nose on the sleeve of my shirt.
“Do you want some hot chocolate?” she asks me.
“Evie, I said no hot chocolate until you pick up your toys.” I set her down and she runs off towards the house, her tiny little body still trying to figure out how to use her legs. “She’s already sneaky. I don’t know what I’m going to do when she’s a teenager.”
He pulls me in a for a hug. We’re not really huggers per se, but when you go fifteen years without seeing someone, hell, when you think you might not see someone ever again, it’s different. Everything is the same and everything is different.
A gorgeous brunette comes sprinting across the driveway.
“Hey!” she smiles, wrapping her arms around me. “It’s so nice to meet you finally. I’ve heard so much about you. Thank you for your service.”
“This is my wife, Sloan,” Gavin says. “She’s a surgeon. And an awesome mother.”
“Well what the hell are you doing with this guy?” I tease.
“He knocked me up,” she laughs. “We’re really glad to have you back. I’ll let you guys catch up.”
We walk around the property and he shows me his goat pen and chicken coops while we small-talk about the last few years. It’s nice to see him thriving up here. It’s nice knowing that one of my siblings ended up being a well-adjusted normal human being.
“You want a beer?” he asks as we sit on his back porch. He pulls open a mini fridge and passes me a bottle.
“You guys got work for me?” I ask.
He stares at me like I’m crazy.
“What the fuck, Micah,” he stammers. “You got out. You work for the fucking United States government. What in the world do you want to be up here running with us for?”
I don’t know. I guess being here, even just for a day has kind of changed everything. For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel this debilitating sadness. I don’t feel so alone in this world.
“You would’ve left, too, Gavin,” I say. We never really talked about the circumstance of my leaving. He was still in college when it happened. “Hell, you were away at school and you came back. Why do you care? You think I’m up here spying or something?”
“No, I don’t think that,” he says. “It’s just so sudden. It’s weird. I have so much work for you, Micah, but I don’t want to force you to do something that will compromise your long-term career.”
“I have no long-term career,” I shrug. “If you want to know why I came back, it’s because I heard Dad died. It was on the news. That’s the only reason why I’ve been avoiding you guys so long. I couldn’t face him. As long as he was alive and up here running things, I just couldn’t be here.”
“I hear ya, bro. A lot has changed though.”
“I know,” I insist. “And I want back in. I want to be a part of it. I hate the fact that I abandoned you guys. I hate that I didn’t keep in touch. I just needed to figure some shit out. I don’t know if you know this, but he killed Ava.”
“Really? I barely knew the girl. I just assumed she moved on to greener pastures. It’s not like he keeps old ladies very long. Usually the smart ones get out before they get in too deep.”
“She was pregnant with my child, Gavin. He caught us. He shot her in my bed and told me to dig a hole.”
His face turns into a dark frown. “I have no words, Micah. I’m sorry? What the fuck? You should’ve told me. You should’ve told any of us.”
“I didn’t want to. You had your thing going on. You needed to focus on school. I needed to get my life together.”
“And look at us now,” he sighs. “Both right back where we came from.”
I take a long swig from my beer. Talking about Ava is like ripping open a scar and starting the bleeding process all over again. The fact that Amber, the first girl I’ve met here, looks like a blonde version of her is like rubbing salt in that wound. And yet here I sit, ready to jump right back in headfirst.
“We’re running shine for the next few weeks here if you want to help. It’s a lot more low-key than working the cartel, and we’re the supplier, so the money is good.”
“You guys got the stills back up and running?” I ask. That was always another part of my grandfather’s big vision. Getting us completely self-sufficient.
“Sure did.”
“I’m impressed. You guys have been working hard up here. Between Esther’s place and your bar… I feel like the black sheep.”
“Don’t say that, dude,” he assures me. “You did something none of us were brave enough to do. You defended our country. We just defend our own. I don’t know what this identity crisis is all about, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Until then, you are always welcome here. You’ll always be one of us, you know. Even if you don’t want to.”
He’s right. No matter where in the world I go, I’ll always be a Misfit deep down.
“I gotta figure out a place to live,” I say. “Brooks’ and Esther’s place is alright, but I can’t figure out if they’re fighting or fucking half the time.”
“Knowing our sister, it’s probably the same thing,” he shrugs.
“Dad, look!” Evie says, stumbling out the back door and down the steps. She’s got lipstick all over her hands and face, even her teeth are caked in red. “I made pretty.”
Their Rottweiler follows shortly behind, wagging her nub of a tail. She’s got patchy streaks of red all through her fur, along with Evie’s tiny handprints.
“Oh Lord, where’s your mother?” he laughs. “You’re more than welcome to stay here. You’re probably going to want to sleep with your eyes open, though.”
“I’m good,” I chuckle. “Evie, you look so pretty. Maybe you should do your dad’s make-up next.” I stand up and toss my bottle into the recycling bin. “I’m getting out of here.”
“Ask Esther about the trailer,” he calls after me. “I know Ollie’s not living there anymore.”
I just might. It feels so strange talking about moving here again, but everything inside of me is urging me in that direction. It’s like a whole different world where everything is easier. Sure we live a life of crime, but it’s our world and it’s our rules. Now that the evil dictator is gone, it might not be so bad.
I guess that was the easy part, though, getting back in the good graces of my siblings. Getting over Ava’s going to be a whole different set of challenges, especially because I see her everywhere I go. The fact that Gavin can just brush off her death like it’s no big deal is kind of a red flag for me, too. Am I walking right back into a life of pain?
I get on my bike and head down the long dirt road, back to the clubhouse. Maybe I am walking right back into a life of pain, but my life without this place is just as painful. At least here, I have my family to commiserate with.
Chapter 17
Amber:
“Oh my God, you look smoking hot,” Jasmine says as I step out of the dressing room. This outfit is scandalous, to say the least; the tight black spandex t-shirt barely covers the bottom of my boobs, and the tight white boy shorts show off the curve of my ass perfectly, especially with these high heel white boots. I’m going for a sporty look tonight, and I think I nailed it.
At least, I think I look nail-able.
After our spa day, I feel like I am truly a part of this bad girls club. It feels good being pampered, especially when you’re actually able to pay for it yourself with your own hard-earned money.
Sandy helps me finish curling my hair.
“Are you going to do it?” she asks, as she brushes bright blue hair chalk over the tips of my platinum blonde, giving me a vibrant streak of color.
I haven’t decided yet, but I think they have me almost talked into it.
They know all about my crush on Micah. Apparently, if you put me on a massage table and lay some hot stones on my back, I’ll tell anyone whatever they want to hear.
Now they damn near have me convinced that offering him a private dance would be a good way to get his att
ention.
“I’m not like that,” I try explaining. “I don’t want him to think I’m like that!”
“Like what?” Jasmine says, like she’s offended. “Like us? Like women who know what we want and aren’t afraid to get it? Guys like him aren’t the kind of guys who want to take you out on four dates before they even kiss you. Guys like that don’t have time for that shit. Besides, what are you waiting for? Is it like a religious ‘saving yourself for marriage’ thing?”
“I guess I just never met a guy I was attracted to like that? I don’t know. I was always busy. I had gymnastics and my mom was always sick and I had to take care of her. Dating wasn’t really on my mind.”
“Fuck dating,” Jasmine laughs. “You need to have some fun. Just grab him by the hand and take him to one of the private dance rooms.”
“And then what?”
“Honey, I’ve seen the things you do on stage. I think you know and then what. What’s the worst thing that happens? It’s not like he’s going to turn you down.”
Now that it’s getting closer to showtime, I’m still wavering. Honestly, what is the worst that could happen? Nobody here knows me. This whole stripping thing has totally opened my eyes to a new side of myself, and it’s not like anybody back at home would ever find out. Maybe it’s time for me to actually rip off that band-aid and have a little fun for myself.
The crowd tonight is a little calmer than last night’s, but the house is still jam-packed. Every time I get up on that stage it’s a little bit easier. I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting better at it, or if it’s the fact that I can feel his eyes on me the whole time, watching my every move, watching as I slowly slide this flimsy excuse of a shirt off over my head, showing him everything I have as I dance around the pole, but I don’t even think about the other guys in the room whistling and throwing money at me. Right now, it’s just Micah and I. Micah and those bright blue eyes and big strong arms.