by ML Mystrom
“Yeah,” I said sleepily.
He stayed on the small landing until I clicked the lock shut, and then I heard the squeak of the steps as he went down to find his own bed. I put the pamphlet on the nightstand and stripped off my jeans, letting them drop to the floor. I didn’t bother to take off my shirt, just contorted myself enough to unhook my bra and pull it out of my sleeve. My stomach burned from the tattoo, but I had Tylenol. When I dreamed, I saw myself lying in a field of four-leaf clover.
And I was smiling.
Fifteen
“Further mystery surrounds the disappearance of Jeffery and Vivian Townsend. While Mr. Townsend has been allegedly jet-setting around South America, Mrs. Townsend has not been seen since she left with her husband on their yearlong humanitarian tour. The only contact anyone had had with Mrs. Townsend has been through emails authorizing foundation expenditures through Senator Townsend’s office that were supposedly for the schools supported through the foundation. We have learned that one of the foundation’s schools is on the verge of closing due to lack of funding. We have called Senator Townsend’s office multiple times asking to interview Mrs. Townsend, however, his office has told us neither she nor Jeffrey Townsend Jr, can be reached. Both of their social media accounts have been stagnant for months, so the big question today, where is Vivian Townsend?
“Yo, Table-man!” Ditchdigger walked in the tattoo parlor, interrupting the news update on the XM station. More like stomped, as his size made a quiet entry anywhere impossible. “I got yer girl’s ride ready.”
Table continued to work on the child’s face he was tattooing on a client’s left pec. “What all was wrong with it?”
Ditch sat heavily on the leather sofa in the waiting area, and the piece of furniture groaned under the sudden weight. “More like what wasn’t wrong with it. Head gasket leaking, brake pads at 90 percent worn, rotors chewed and no clearance for turning, tensioner belt going bad, battery with two dead cells and another one ’bout to go. I’m surprised the damn thing even cranked! If it was a horse, it’d be a mercy to shoot it and put it out of its misery. I put in more work than the thing is worth. You owe me big, brother.”
Table grunted a short laugh. He wasn’t surprised. The van had looked and sounded like it was on its last legs. Ditch was fixing up the van on the sly and wouldn’t tell Lori about everything he’d had to do to it. That would be between him and Ditch. Table knew Lori would want to pay for it, and Table was too much of a man to let her do it.
“That’s not all I found, brother.” Ditch’s voice changed, dropping low and sounding serious. “Them tires was rough, but they didn’t blow on their own. I found stab marks in ’em, the kind you can only make with a serious-ass knife. And the brake fluid leak? It had some help too. Someone was trying to cause that wreck. You hear any more from your ex?”
Table felt the heat of rage rise up in him. Too many problems had cropped up to be coincidental. The stuff at the farm, the vandalism at the parlor, the sudden change of heart from his ex, and now the deliberate tampering with Lori’s van that could’ve cost her life or someone else’s. Table’s thoughts raced. His ex wanted money but hadn’t done much more than send a court notice. His lawyer had said that in order to reverse her decision at this late date in Angel’s life, she would be looking at a long drawn-out time in and out of the courtroom for months, maybe years. This was not like Tamara. The woman he knew would expect a quick buck or two and wouldn’t have the stamina or patience for a long court battle. He suspected there was something else going on, as he hadn’t heard from Tamara at all, just the court summons.
Something stunk to high heaven and he was getting tired of it.
“I’m getting a fucking bad vibe here, Ditch. This shit is too much on top of everything else.”
“My spidey senses are telling me this ain’t nothing to do with your ex. She ain’t smart enough to pull off this much crap.”
Table had to agree. There was only one other direction this could go.
“Lori.”
“Bingo, my brother. Ever since she moved in, shit’s been happening. That chick has a past and somethin’ ain’t right about it. As I see it, you got a few choices. You can kick her ass out and make her leave town. The club will give her a nice escort down the highway to make sure she’s gone, and we’ll keep our eyes out to make sure she don’t come back.”
Table bristled and nearly ran off the carefully drawn lines of the piece he was working on. “Not gonna happen.”
Ditch titched his tongue. “I figured that was the case, but I had to point it out. You got feelin’s for this woman?”
Table’s answer was monosyllabic but full of meaning. He looked up from his work and met Ditch’s eye with an unwavering gaze. “Yes.”
“Fuck me,” Ditch muttered under his breath. “Alrighty then, option two is you hunker down at the farm and see to all your ladies as best you can. That’s gonna spread you mighty thin as you can’t even keep up now. The club will cover as best we can, but technically, your status is nomad and our chapter is too small to do what you need done. We can help out, but we can’t make no promises.”
Table resumed his work, a frown of frustration on his face. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Ditch took a breath. “Option three. You get your shit together and head back to your own chapter in Bryson City, and not just for a visit. The Lair is a fucking fortress and there are more club brothers there who can watch your back 24/7. You also got more brain power. Bruiser looks like a big dumb lug, but I’ve heard he’s a fucking master computer whiz. I bet my left nut he can dig up whatever info you need to protect your people.”
Table finished up the last of the shading on his client’s body. The shining face of the kid stared at him from the man’s reddened flesh. The man had come to him for a picture of the child he’d lost to leukemia, and Table could relate to the fierceness of that love.
“If I was in your shoes, buddy, I’d pick door number three,” the client said. “You do you, pal, but if it was my kid and my woman, I’d not risk any more than I had to and take as much help as I could get.”
Table’s mouth thinned as he taped gauze over the new ink. He muttered the aftercare instructions and handed the client a sheet of paper with the same. Ditch left with a finger flick and a see ya, bro.
Table took his time cleaning up his area and prepping for the next person. The vandalism had actually been pretty good for business, as it seemed everybody wanted to come get a tattoo from the shop that had its front window busted in. Walk-ins had picked up quite a bit, and Table’s chair always seemed to have a body in it, ready to get inked. The next person was a college girl and she wanted the Latin motto of the university scripted on her forearm. Levos Oculos Meos In Montes—I lift my eyes to the Mountains. Table was silent as he drew out the phrases directly on the girl’s skin. She approved it and he began to work, giving only a half-ear to her wincing and chatter.
Mountains, he thought, his mind whirling and planning. Ditch was right. His club brothers at the Lair were strong and loyal. He had roots there, deep ones. Brick was a tough old man, fair, protective of his people and even more so of the women taken under the club’s wing. The chapter here in Asheville was still a good one but small and didn’t quite have the same depth of solidarity as his home chapter in Bryson City. Something was threatening his family and he needed to find out what it was and put a stop to it. Ditch was also right in that his ex, Tamara, wasn’t smart enough to plan anything out. He hadn’t heard squat from her and he wasn’t so sure she was even in the picture in the first place. Too many unanswered questions, and too many coincidences were leading him back to the one person who didn’t fit in his timeline: Lori. The dyed choppy hair, the insistence on cash only, lack of banking, lack of proper ID, the fear she had shown toward him when she first came to the farm; every sign was pointing to a woman on the run from something bad and that bad something may have found her. Now his family could be in the crosshairs. Table never had
been a man to sit on the sidelines and wait for something to happen. He was a man of action, and it was high time for him to take some.
He finished up the elaborate script and the girl squealed a bit as she looked at it. College kids. Table put a smile on his face for her as he took her credit card and swiped it in the machine. Chrissy was working on a back piece and Jack had another college girl in his chair, getting a belly button piercing. No one was in the waiting area for a change, so it was a good time.
“I’m takin’ a break for a few minutes. Be outside if you need me,” he called out. Jack nodded as he pushed the needle through the girl’s clamped skin. She cried out and clenched the hand of her friend.
Table left the building and stood on the street outside watching the people wander in and out of the shops. He lifted his phone, scrolled through his contacts, and hit dial. He raised the phone to his ear and waited for the person at the other end to pick up.
Sixteen
I closed my cheap phone with a snap and nearly collapsed on the kitchen floor of the house Connie and I were cleaning. Papers were finally filed. It was nearly done. No more delays. One more week and I would be free! Tears gathered in my eyes and my throat worked to hold back the sobs of sheer joy I felt.
“Chingada! Oh my God, Lori, what’s wrong?” Connie’s concerned face appeared before mine.
“Nothing,” I told her with a big watery smile. “Nothing at all. It’s the best it’s ever been.”
Connie rolled her eyes at me and flipped her hand. “You are one crazy gringa! I’m almost finished with the bathrooms. You good in here?”
I sniffed. “Yeah, I’ll be done in a minute. Just gotta dump the mop water and put the cleaning stuff up.”
“Cool. Anita and I are having a ladies’ night tonight. If it’s really ‘the best it’s ever been,’ maybe you want to go too?”
“You’re not going out with Ditch?”
“Not tonight. A girl has to have some time with her sisters and leave the man at home from time to time. Keeps them on their toes, ya know?”
I was flattered that Connie thought of me as a sister, and yes, I did feel like celebrating. However, the first person I thought of to celebrate with was not my boss. It was Table. He had become the rock in my life, a stable anchor that I needed so badly. At the same time, I felt my heart jolt at the thought that when he found out everything, he would turn his back on me with disgust at what I had done. I could fool myself into thinking he would forgive me, but in my experience, reality never lived up to the dream of it. He wouldn’t hurt me physically, but I knew my heart would suffer when he left. I had fallen for the single dad biker and I would never let him know.
“Sure, I’ll go. I still don’t have a vehicle so I’ll have to bum a ride.”
Connie giggled. “No problem, mi hermana. You can buy the first round!”
We finished up the house, got paid, and left. Connie dropped me off at the farm and told me what time she would be back to get me. I spent some time playing with Angel and hanging with Carol. Martha had gone to Walmart and I knew it would be a long time before she got back. I had been shopping with her before. She loved Walmart and could spend hours at the giant store, poking through the bins of five-dollar DVDs, looking at baby clothes, shoes, grumbling about the cost of kitchenware, and buying piles of groceries for the huge chest freezers in the big storage building. Her favorite joke was to buy any item that said “buy one, get one free.” She would hand me one and tell me I owed her as she was taking the freebie.
The weather had warmed up enough in the last two weeks to melt all the ice and snow that had caused my wreck. As the saying went for North Carolina weather, “if you don’t like it, just wait a few minutes and it will change.” The air was still cold, but without any wind blowing, it didn’t feel too bad. The sun was out, and the vivid colors of the mountains were bright and inviting. I stood at the back porch, listening to the sounds of the running creek and trying to identify this new feeling that filled me. It took me a while, but I finally figured it out. I was happy. I hadn’t been happy in so long that it was foreign to me. One more week. Seven more days, and the time was counting down.
One thing about happiness was that it was fragile and could break anytime or anywhere. I should have known better. The moment I spotted the silky scarf tied to the rail of the staircase that led to my room, I felt that happiness turn to sheer terror.
No! Not when I’m this close!
My shock was broken by the lubbing sound of Martha’s truck returning from her Walmart adventure.
“Dang fool!” she griped as she slammed the door. “I don’t know what fire that asshole was after that he almost run me off the road. Damn Jeep was takin’ his road half out th’ middle and weren’t gonna move none. I had to take the shoulder so that dumbass didn’t sideswipe me when he passed. Damn idjit!”
I tore my eyes away from the scarf and moved in a trance to help Martha unload the mound of plastic bags in the bed.
“Got me some of them squeezie panties. Supposed to make you look thin an’ keep all your jiggly parts still. Shoulda picked up some for Carol. You okay?”
It took me a moment to realize Martha was talking to me instead of rambling. “Yes, I’m fine.”
She snorted. “You don’t look fine. You’re white as a sheet and look like you’re ’bout to keel over. Maybe you need t’ sit for a spell.”
Table’s bike roared down the driveway. Anytime the weather allowed it, he would ride rather than drive. After riding with him, I understood the preference. He parked and stalked over to us, his face dark and serious.
“Get them bags out th’ back and in the house. Imma gonna check on Carol and show her my new underduds. Might get me one a’ them push-up bras I seen on the shoppin’ channel.”
Table’s tight face went slack at Martha’s words. He shook his head. “Jesus, Nanny! You need to learn when to filter.”
She laughed and shuffled under the weight of several bags. I picked up a few more in each hand and Table grabbed the rest. His presence was comforting even though he looked like he could chew up and spit nails.
“We need to talk.” His words sounded like crunching gravel.
I nodded and glanced once more at the fluttering scarf.
We finished hauling the bags into the kitchen, and I listened as Carol fussed about all the extra stuff that had not been on the shopping list. Martha just harrumphed and stuffed the cabinets and pantry with my help. Table checked on his sleeping daughter.
When there was nothing left for me to do, I walked out of the house, my feet leaden with dread. I knew I had to face this, but I really didn’t want to. The closer I got to the scarf, the more panic I felt crawl in my throat. The fabric was a finely spun blend of pale gold threads that shimmered in the early evening light. I had always loved the way it felt around my neck—until the night I learned to hate it. That was the last time I’d seen this scarf.
Tears clogged my eyes and I rushed up the steps, nearly stumbling in my haste. I left that filthy memory tied to the rail and I hoped like hell that maybe it would stay there and rot. I yanked out my duffle and began randomly stuffing my clothes in it. My cash stash was in a separate bag and I grabbed it, dumping the contents on the bed. The pile of money looked like a lot, but for life on the run it was a pitiful amount. Nevertheless, I owed Table for my van and I wasn’t stupid enough to think it was a cheap fix. I raked out about half of the cash and jammed the rest back into the money bag.
“What the fuck?”
I jerked back with a cry and braced myself against the bed. My heart was pounding and I could feel my body jerking with every beat. Blood roared in my ears and I suddenly couldn’t draw enough breath.
“Shit, Lori, sit down before you fall down.”
Table approached me and the wild panic suddenly disappeared. My knees couldn’t hold me up anymore. He lunged and caught me as I buckled.
“Fuck, baby girl,” he said into my hair.
He was warm. So
lid. My anchor. I grabbed his jacket and burrowed into him, clinging with everything I had in me. Violent shivers racked my body as the adrenaline spike hit its peak and I gasped for air, my face pressed against his chest. He smelled of spicy leather, baby powder, and man. His arms came around me and he crooned soothing words while he held tight.
I didn’t know how long we stood there before the shaking subsided and the tears dried up. I pushed against the cocoon of Table’s body and freed myself.
“I’m okay now.” My heart was still pounding, but my voice was steady, if a bit rough.
“No, you’re not” was his firm return. “I don’t think you’ve been okay for a long time, but you’re gonna be.”
Fresh tears threatened. He gestured to the piles of money on the bed.
“What the hell is this?”
I sniffed. “I was leaving you half of what I have to help pay you for at least some of the work Ditch did on my van. I’ll send more when I can.”
Table shook his head. “There’s a problem with that, baby girl. You ain’t leavin’.”
My swollen eyes blinked. “I have to, Table. It’s for your own protection.”
His face showed a mixture of humor and exasperation. “You just don’t get it, do you, Lori?” He pointed to the patch on his cut. “Do you know what this emblem means? I told you once already, but I see it didn’t stick. I’m a Dragon Runner, baby girl. We would give up our lives for those under the protection of our wings, and I have a huge army of brothers ready to be at my back anytime I call, just as I’m ready to be at their backs when I’m called. Everyone at this farm is under those wings, and that includes you. In case you haven’t figured it out, you belong to me. You are mine. The club may look like a freewheeling party crowd, but I promise you, there is not another group you’ll ever find in this lifetime that is more loyal or devoted than the Dragon Runners.”