by Brook Wilder
“Why would he want you around after you get rid of the problem that’s between the two of you?” I ask myself bitterly.
I roll my eyes. As nice as he’s been, he’s not as different as I thought. I hate myself a little for hoping that he would be.
I finish washing, deciding that I don’t want to turn into a prune. I stand, pull the plug to the bath and settle on the rug. I realize that, in my haste to take a bath and forget about the world for a little while, I didn’t bother to look for a towel, and that James obviously doesn’t have a lot of guests because there’s none in the bathroom closet. I sigh.
Fuck.
Knowing I’m going to leave a lot of water all over the place, I open the bathroom door quietly, peek out. I’m pretty sure that I can make it to the room without too much of a fuss, and I start a careful tip-toe, so I don’t slip across the hall to the bed room.
Either James is incredibly light on his feet, or I’m deaf, but I didn’t hear James heading up the stairs until he’s speaking to me on his way up.
“Hey Lena, I ordered some pizza and…”
I yelp, going to cover myself as he comes up the stairs. I miscalculate and end up slipping. I see the hardwood floor in front of me and prepare to fall only to be caught in a strong pair of arms that keep me close to him. We tumble to the floor together, but he breaks my fall.
“Ow! Fuck!” He groans; I think he landed on his elbow.
“Sorry…”
“Why… why are you walking out here like that?”
I blush, and push myself away from him, covering up all the important bits, ignoring how absurd it is since he’s seen me mostly naked before.
“There weren’t any towels in the bathroom.”
“Oh… Sorry about that. I have a bathroom in the master bedroom, so I don’t usually have to worry about that.” He rubs the back of his head, sheepish. I huff a little.
“I’m going to go dry…”
“Right, right, of course.”
He keeps his eyes averted as I push myself up and head toward my room. I’m almost at the door when he reaches out to me and takes my wrist. I freeze, not sure what he’s doing when his hand comes up to my lower back, fingers brushing over the skin there.
“Where did those come from…?”
I know what ‘those’ he’s talking about. The reason behind my not telling him about why I joined the Vipers. My scars. I pull my hand out of his hold, stepping away from him.
“I’m going to dry,” I tell him.
I leave him in the hallway, snapping the door behind me.
I lean against it, taking in a deep breath. I calm my nerves before I realize that I didn’t get a fucking towel.
“God damn it,” I mutter.
I jerk open my bedroom door, only to find two neatly folded towels in front of it. One’s large, for my body. The other one is smaller and obviously for my hair.
“You are so confusing, James Davis,” I mutter, retreating back into my room.
I update Marc that night on the status of our little operation, explaining that James is ‘taking responsibility’ for the situation that he put me in. Marc is ecstatic about the whole thing, thinking that we’re leading James into a huge trap. I don’t tell Marc that I think James is harder to ‘trap’ than he thinks he is, and I don’t tell him about the office in James’ house, either. I don’t know exactly what it is that keeps me from doing so; I know that I should if I’m going to get out of this without Marc getting his claws in me, but it’s something I want to hold onto until I know for certain what’s in that room.
Rolling over in the bed, I let it settle in that this is my new home, even if it’s only temporary. The bed is more comfortable than my bed in the trailer. The air feels… cleaner, somehow. The place is, as I described it before, cozy. I like it. I feel like I shouldn’t, but I do.
James fits in here, I’ve decided. But it’s like there’s a piece missing that I can only assume his fiancée left empty when she died. I wonder if that’s why he’s so against me staying past the birth of this baby.
Is he afraid to love, too?
I frown up at my ceiling, contemplating that. So afraid to love, I get that. I get it more than I care to admit.
I wish this was simpler. I wish he was like other men, truly like them. It would make it easier to deceive him. He’s a good enough lover that it would be easy and almost worth it to just…
Let him touch me. Let him use me like I’m using him. Let him have my body like I did that first night.
I pull my hand back from its creeping trail down my body. Disgusted with myself, I roll over, and force myself to go to sleep, hoping that James doesn’t grace my dreams as easily as he graces my thoughts.
I wake up early the next day. It’s the first day that I don’t have to think about seeing Marc or going to the Snake Pit. I don’t know what to do with myself, honestly. It’s a strange thing.
I creep out of the guest room. James is still sleeping, his bedroom door shut tight. I have a few things that I need to do for the day, and I’d like to get my stuff put away, but my stomach growls and I decide that the first thing I’m going to do is make a decent breakfast.
If I can find something decent to make breakfast with, that is.
I rummage through what James has in his cabinets and find that he has eggs, cheese, and a few peppers. Oddly for someone that apparently doesn’t cook, he also has some bacon and several cans of corned beef hash. I suppose that’s better than ramen. I get to cooking.
Bacon in the pan, eggs whisked together with milk and the chopped-up peppers. I figure a decent scramble can make for a good breakfast, and he even has some shredded cheese in the fridge to make it even better.
Whether it’s the noise I’m making while in the kitchen or the scent of the cooking that brings James down, he eventually plods into the kitchen as I’m plating breakfast. He looks confused, staring at the remnants of my breakfast-making all over the kitchen, between the egg carton and the milk carton and the vegetable scraps.
I don’t look him in the eyes, sliding a plate full of food over to him instead.
“I made breakfast,” I say, stating the obvious. “In case you were hungry.”
“Oh, I’m definitely hungry,” he says. “I just wasn’t expecting all this. I didn’t even realize I had all this in here.”
I laugh.
“Happens when most of what you eat is ramen and take out. Go on, sit. There’s fresh coffee brewing, too.”
He stares at me, dumbfounded. I think he’s still trying to process the fact that he has a hot breakfast first thing in the morning.
“It’s not going to eat itself, James,” I tell him playfully.
Finally, James takes his plate. I watch him as he takes his first bite, and he hums in a deep appreciation.
“Holy shit, this is good.”
I smile but hide it as I turn to get my own plate.
“It’s just breakfast.”
“It’s damn good,” he says. “Hell, if the bar had food like this, I might consider having it open for breakfast.”
I shake my head, but I like the sentiment. I start eating and James and I sit in a comfortable silence.
“I have work tonight,” he tells me. “You can come or stay here if you want.”
“Are those my only options?” I ask, curious.
He thinks. “Is there something that you want to do instead?”
“I’m used to working,” I explain. “I worked the Snake Pit, dancing.”
“We don’t have dancers at the bar,” he says immediately. “Probably not good for the baby anyway.”
I contemplate. Sitting here isn’t going to get my anywhere. But perhaps I can convince him to let me work at the bar.
“If I’m not working at the Snake Pit, I’m not going to be making any money,” I say. “I’m used to an income; I support myself, for the most part. And I know you said that you’re going to be looking after me, but you’re going to be setting me out on my o
wn after the baby is born. I can’t do that on nine months of having no wages.”
“I said I would help you.”
“And I’m saying that I know what it’s like to be dependent on men. And since we’re not going to be a permanent arrangement, I’d rather not be forced to be dependent on you like that. I have money in my savings, but it’ll only last so long.”
He regards me for a moment.
“You’re pretty headstrong when you want to be,” he says finally.
“Is that a problem?”
“Nah. It’s a nice change.” He takes a few bites and shrugs. “Let me get some things lined up at the bar and you can do a few nights a week until we see how you do, alright?”
I smile.
“I’d like that. Thank you, James.”
Chapter Twelve
James
This is either going to be a good move or something that I’ll seriously come to regret. Either way, I have Lena on the back of my bike and I’m taking her to her first day of work.
We don’t have anything like the Snake Pit has by way of jobs for women. We don’t have dancers; we definitely don’t have back rooms either. I like to think we’re running a nice, clean establishment. I have a lot of doubts about how Lena’s gonna fit in, and, what’s more, I have no idea how other people are gonna take her working there.
I guess it’s something to figure out, though. I can’t blame her for what other people may or may not think about her, but I don’t want any issues coming up either. I suppose time will tell, but time is a fickle fucking thing, in all honesty. I pull up to the bar, taking my helmet from Lena as she slides it off her head.
“You should get yourself a second helmet,” she says.
I don’t tell her I already have one.
“Yeah, I’ll look into it. Come on. I’ll introduce you and start up a bit of training for you.”
By now, it’s news with Grizzlies about Lena. I’m not gonna hide it; there’s no point in doing that. Grizzly eyes turn on us as I lead her in and I know that there’s gonna be some talk for a while about it. Good thing is, we’ve all done shit in the past and present. No one’s gonna give me shit. Lena, however… well, as far as most people are concerned, judging by the looks in their eyes as they watch me lead her in, she’s a Viper.
“Come on. I’m gonna introduce you to Pete.”
He’s already in, taking orders back to the kitchen from one of the tables. He looks up when I call him and grins.
“Hey, boss man. One sec!”
He darts into the kitchen, takes a few minutes, then darts back out. He comes over, his eyes lingering on Lena and the smile on his face remains as he looks to me.
“So, what’s up.”
“Lena’s gonna start working here,” I say. “Waitressing. I wanted to introduce the two of you since you’re the assistant manager and I figure you’ll do the least amount of damage in getting her acclimated to the environment here.”
Pete beams; he always likes working with pretty women, but he’s never gross or pushy with them. He’ll be good for Lena to learn under. He holds out his hand for her and clasps it when she shakes it.
“We’re gonna be good friends. Come on; you’ll learn more from me than this nugget any day.”
I roll my eyes but send them off. I think they’ll get along great, and it’ll keep me from being around her too much. Getting used to her.
Of course, that doesn’t stop me from watching.
And in spite of myself, I watch.
A lot.
Pete takes her around the bar, pointing out things, showing her tables and such. She follows along, her attention wholly on him; she’s serious about this, I realize. Eager, even. I wonder if she thinks she’ll like it more than she liked doing whatever she did over at the Snake Pit. I like to think that she’ll have a better working environment, at the very least.
“Hey. Bartender. Can I get a refill?”
I’m staring. It’s hard not to, as Lena gets into her element, going from table to table under Pete’s guidance. The way she lights up as she interacts with people, jokes with Pete, I feel like an idiot for having not shown her the ropes myself.
“Hey. Bartender!”
“Yeah, sorry. Coming right up.”
I pull a new beer from the tap, slide it to my unruly customer. He takes it gratefully, sending me a scathing look. I shrug and go back to my watching.
Over the next few days, I watch Lena.
A lot.
It’s hard not to find myself captivated by her movements, the way she behaves with customers. She takes to waitressing like a full natural. Customers love her; even other Grizzlies start to warm to her. They come to me sometimes, telling me about how much they like having her around. She’s personable, and cute.
Well, I think she’s more than cute, but it’s not something that I voice aloud. I think that one might get me into a bit of trouble, and I’d like to stay out of trouble.
Things go well. Lena and I find ourselves falling into a routine, one that I actually like. Mornings are filled with breakfasts, she takes to the library to read, and, when it’s time to work, we do so. Lena is quiet, but observant; she always looks like she’s taking in everything around her, like she’s cataloguing everything around her. I figure that it’s something that she had to do with the Vipers; always be alert, always be on edge because, if she wasn’t, something would happen. Of course, it’s all just guessing. But, based on the stories that you hear coming out of Viper territory, it’s not a long shot of a guess.
Things go good, I’ll admit it. She grows on me. Having her around grows on me. But, as well as she does, there’s always room for a little snag.
It’s a week after I hire Lena and we’re fucking packed. All the tables are full and the bar is lined. I’ve called in a few extra people to help with the tables, but we’re still a little pressed for time. Usually, when nights like this happen, I take it in stride. It’s what happens when you run a business and sometimes you have to roll with the punches and take what’s coming to you. But it’s Lena’s first run with a night as busy as this and, while I can usually keep an eye on her, I end up getting busy at the bar, and Pete’s occupied too. I don’t notice the table full of bikers that end up in Lena’s section for the evening, and I don’t initially hear them over the general noise of the bar until I take a quick break to take a leak. As I’m coming back, I catch a conversation.
“…yeah, she’s got a sweet ass, doesn’t she?”
“For a thin girl, sure.”
“Can’t believe she’s a Viper though. Don’t know what James is thinking.”
“Probably about her ass.”
They laugh and my eyes narrow as I pass. I look around, seeing Lena tending to another table, oblivious to what they’re saying. I decide to walk over.
“Hey.”
My voice carries loud and they look up as I stand by their table. They grin at me.
“What’s up James?”
“You have a problem with Lena being here, you tell me, you understand?” I say, dodging the bullshit. “She’s here because I want her to be here; don’t talk shit about her just because she used to be a Viper, you understand?”
One of the guys goes to open his mouth.
“It was just talk…”
“And it’s that kinda talk that leads to more talk, that leads to the kind of problems that led to the old turf wars. She’s here now. She’s staying.”
I expect them to be angry about the whole thing, me calling them out. Instead, they look around to each other, chastened. I see the regret on their faces and they avoid looking at me for a moment before responding to me.
“You’re right, James,” one of them says. “We’re sorry. We won’t do it again.”
“Good. You’re better than that; I know you are.”
I leave them to their devices, running into Lena along the way.
“Is everything alright?” she asks. “I didn’t do anything wrong with the table, did I
?”
Her worried face makes me put my hands on her shoulders, head shaking.
“No. You’re doing amazing, actually. The guys really like you.”
She looks surprised, and then she beams. Her smile is wide and bright, brighter than I’ve ever seen. Has she ever had a compliment like that with her previous jobs? The way her eyes light up and she looks away, blushing as she realizes that she’s doing so, tells me not.
“You’re doing good,” I reiterate, putting my hands on her shoulders. “You’re doing good, and I’m glad you’re here, Lena.”