by Tara Lynn
But I started worry more that he might not survive it.
So when Ruby came to hang out at the Last Stop that night, and after a weird silence in the conversation asked, “What is wrong with you lately?” I honestly did not know the answer.
She was across the bar from me, sipping at the foam head of a beer. She had on a lily blue top that set nicely against her blond hair. It didn’t fit in here, but at least it drew all the grimy attention off of me.
“Just cause you’re studying psychology doesn’t mean you need to analyze me,” I said, though it was already a lost cause.
“It’s true though,” she said. “You’ve been all sketch for like a week.”
I shot in before she could work the math. “Well, I did get a new biker roommate.”
“Oh yeah. Is he really that bad? I mean what’s one more biker? At least this one’s easy on the eyes.”
“Yeah, it’s not unbearable.” My mind flashed an image of Damon’s bare body. For an instant, I felt as clear as the air after rain.
“You see it too, then?” Ruby said.
“Jesus, Ruby, I just meant in general.”
“I was kidding. Besides, he’s just your stepbrother. It’s not even like you grew up with him.”
A bit of the tension in my chest undid itself. I knew she was buzzed, but if she really didn’t think it was that big a deal, then maybe I could tell her some of it. At least, about the first time we’d met. I so needed someone to dish with about this.
Right as I opened my mouth, though, she rattled her head and laughed. “God, he’s right next door and you can’t do anything.”
So much for dishing. “Yeah…damn, I really wanted to.”
The way her look narrowed on me, my tone had come way too close to the truth.
She shrugged. “So how’s he like bothering you? Making noises next door with that box he bought?”
“No, nothing like that,” I said. “It’s just more crowded. And I really don’t want any more ties to the Liberated.”
“Mmmm. I see. How does your brother feel about Damon? Jason, I mean.”
“He’s psyched.” My mouth hardened around the words.
I’d picked Jason up the other day, after totally bailing on him in the morning. He’d talked nonstop about how awesome it had been riding into town with Damon.
“I’m so damn tired of riding in cages,” he’d said.
“Cages?” I’d asked.
“This car.” He’d banged on the door. “We’re not really free in here. I want to taste the wind again.”
I’d rolled down the windows and said, “There’s your wind.”
He’d laughed, but it’d just added to my stew of irritation. I’d spent years on my mom’s shoulder getting her to whisper into Lorne’s year about keeping Jason clean. My mom was apparently a good enough lay that he’d kept his crew from Jason other than at parties and at the house. Jason had never even ridden a bike before.
One week in and Damon was undoing all that work. He might talk a big game, but the effects were the same.
“I bet he’s psyched,” Ruby said. “The Liberated already call each other brothers. Jason just found his way in.”
“It’s all just a matter of time as long as he’s here,” I said. “Maybe Damon can convince him to join the army instead.”
“You’d want your brother to go off and fight somewhere?”
“No, no I don’t. But I think it’s less likely to happen in the military than if he joins a biker club.”
She patted my arm. “Listen, I agree. It’s not that bleak though. Freemont’s been pretty calm for years.”
“That’s cause the Liberated do their fighting elsewhere now. I still hear Lorne talk about losing people.”
One of the truckers lifted a finger at the other end of the bar. I went over and filled another mug of beer for him. His eyes kept flickering to my chest. I managed to keep smiling until I had my back to him, but inside I just felt more annoyed than usual.
Those aren’t for you, I wanted to say. My head might be mixed up, but my body ached for Damon.
God, did I have a handle on anything anymore?
“We’ll be fighting elsewhere too,” Ruby said, holding her own empty mug up to me as I came back. “You should be doubling down on our plan.”
“What does our plan have to do with this?”
“Well maybe, when we get out of Freemont we can bring your brother.”
“Oh.” I washed her mug and refilled. “Even if I do get to Santa Cruz, he may not want to leave Freemont. This town just finds ways to sink its claws into you. Who knows? Maybe even I can’t get out.”
“What?!” Ruby ran her hands under the faucet by me. Just as I figured out what was happening, she splashed me in the face.
“Hey!” I yelled, wiping my eyes. “What was that-“
“You know damn well what it’s for.”
I looked at her little tightly wound face, and imagined how good it would looked hosed down with beer. Then, I caught all the other ugly grins down the bar just waiting for us to get our shirts wet.
“We made a promise,” Ruby said. “We have majors. We looked at apartments.”
“Yeah, yeah, ok.”
“Say it.”
“I promise to go to Santa Cruz with you.”
“To do what?”
“I’m going to get my bachelor’s in biology and then get a degree in physical therapy.”
“And when we have our place together, what’s going to be on our house motto?”
“Free, not liberated.”
“Good.”
The sigh I’d started ended up as a laugh. It was so good to finally be angry at something real for a moment. Ruby started laughing along too.
“Sorry, I just had to make sure. You’ve gotten through so much worse shit, girl. You’ll get through this, too. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried.” And I wasn’t. She’d cheered me up even without really knowing what was wrong.
She was right. Everything was good. Nothing had changed. I’d figure out things with Damon one way or another. But just because I was confused didn’t mean I had to let him take over my mind.
“What’s new with you?” I asked. “Anything sexy from your new online pen pal?”
Her eyes fluttered. “Sweet, more like it.”
We spent the rest of my shift talking about her love life. It was only slightly less insane than mine. This guy in UC Santa Cruz was writing her actual emails every other day. Apparently he was a Creative Writing major.
Ruby showed me one of the e-mails and it was only slightly less cheesy than the fantasy stuff I read to pass the time. Her eyes were all dewy though.
“This guy is so not-Freemont,” she said. “He’d never survive here.”
“He’d be beaten up by Liberated prospects in high school, yeah. That doesn’t mean he’s a good guy. What’s he doing talking to a girl more than a hundred miles away? It sounds shady, Ruby.”
She glowered a moment, then looked back at her poet’s messages. “Sadie checked him out already. She said he’s odd, but he seems nice.”
I could hardly say more after what I’d done. Ruby had had a couple boyfriends in high school, which meant she was way more experienced in judging guys than me.
“How long are you two just going to keep writing to each other?” I asked.
“Actually, he asked me to come visit him.” She bit her lip and looked up. “It’d be awesome if you came with me.”
For some reason, my breath caught. “When?” I asked.
“Next weekend, I think. I don’t have the details yet.”
I nodded. “Yeah, maybe. Let me know.”
We talked about classes and TV, but later, after the shift ended and I was driving home, I remembered that breath. What was so shocking about going to Santa Cruz? We did it every couple of months.
It was almost like I didn’t want to leave Freemont. No, that was stupid. I wanted to leave, and it wasn’t like I was moving now.
But it felt like a betrayal to go before seeing Damon again.
Only Lorne’s bike sat in the driveway when I got back. My frustration flipped back into a pang of worry. Maybe I should ask about what club business Damon was on. But maybe the business part of the trip was over.
What if he was out enjoying being in the Liberated?
God, I’d been set on the single-minded goal of getting out of this place for five years. One night with him had mucked it all up in my head.
I stopped at my bedroom door and saw his still open, saw the sheets still coiled up and looking like echoes of our bodies. Another whirl of emotion spun through me. I set my stuff down, went into Damon’s room and made his bed.
As I fluffed the comforter, footsteps came up to the door. My mom peered in, shifting in a silk black gown. Her blond bob trembled as she studied the room.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. I just couldn’t sleep and I thought I’d see who’d come home.”
“Just me.”
“I can see that.”
This was about how all our conversations went. I’d been drifting away from her before Dad died. Since she was the only parent left that I recognized, I’d struck a holding pattern since - pleasant but not forthcoming. She’d actually become more thoughtful since shacking up with Lorne. I think she just wanted me to be in good graces with her sugardaddy. It was never clear to me if it was his desire or hers that drove it.
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Christina,” she said. “We should all try to make Damon feel welcome.”
I snorted. “I’ll do what I can.”
“He should be back soon. I’ll let him know what you did, if I see him first.”
I had something cutting about how I was just trying to make it seem like he wasn’t here, when I caught the information in her words. “You know where he is?”
“He’s moving some equipment for the club. He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
She studied me, but I was done. I moved past her and turned into my room.
“Good night, Mom,” I said.
“Night, honey.”
She lingered a moment longer, then shook her head and went back down the hall.
I sat at my desk and listened to her pad away. She was going back to one biker. Here, I was worrying about another one. Were we all that different anymore?
Yeah. I was worse.
God, I needed fresh air. I needed a clear head. Not just somewhere outside, but far away from Freemont. I needed to think for my own future again.
I fumbled for my phone and texted Ruby: “Hey, let me know when you are going to Santa Cruz. I’m there for you.”
I felt better as soon as it said ‘sent.’ I had no idea I was going to do with Damon, but if I was there for Ruby, then at least I wasn’t stuck here.
It was terrifying to see how easy I could let that happen. All I would have to do to get there was let Damon take me on his ride.
CHAPTER TEN
Damon
I sat at the club lounge, nursing a canned beer as I waited to be called in by the charter partners. The place still felt like my first home. All my fondest memories growing up happened in this room: wild tough men, drinking and yelling and laughing and teaching me how to become a man.
The longer I looked, the more things seemed different. Where the old place had just been cheap wood paneling that soaked up the beer and the smoke, this place was glazed over. Everything had veneers. The floors and the walls were dark not cause of years of stains, but from the color of the rich oiled wood. Even the tables and booths had an embalmed look to it.
There were guys around the place, but the conversations were all hush hush, like they were afraid of being overheard. The place felt closer to a cigar club than an MC hangout.
It must have cost a ton, but my trip had shown me it was pennies relative to the cash flow the Liberated must be pulling.
The club room door creaked open in the far corner. Torrance came out and whistled. I headed in and found a seat for me at the far end. A few of the guys nodded, but the rest kept their eyes on Lorne and Reggie. My father sat eased back on his chair. Reggie crouched into the table, with a knife look in his eyes.
Neutral and Negative - not great scores. About what I expected though.
“Cavil and his men said you did alright,” Lorne boomed.
“I did what they asked,” I said.
“Not all of it, huh?” Reggie said.
“No, not all.”
The Liberated made money through meth: local production and local sales. Redwood wasn’t a new chapter, but they weren’t selling like they used to. I’d been sent to start a turf war so the Liberated could step into the vacuum. The guns I’d delivered hadn’t had their serials etched out. They’d been registered for guys in the Scorpions MC. They were meant to be used against the Alacrans Cartel - another competitor for the Redwood chapter - and discovered.
I had asked around for information quietly. No way to change the system without understanding it.
It wasn’t quiet enough. Cavil saw my interest and picked me to start the war. He’d asked me to kill a couple Cartel guys.
“Consider it extra credit, son,” he’d said. “Make your old man proud to have you back.”
He’d offered the gun back to me. I’d handled gear that made the piece look like a nerf gun, but this particular model was etched into my memory. The last time I’d been holding was outside that gas station in Freemont, all those many years ago. I’d had the sense not to fire it then. What would it cost to fire it now?
My thoughts went to Christina as she sat in my bed, her eyes wide and sad and suspicious: So you’re going to be a biker.
It’d have been useless to deny the request. My reputation would be worse off than even before I delivered. These guys would find another shooter anyway.
So I staked out a spot by the Alacrans hideout and as the local boss came out, I fired two precise shots. Both just barely missed two Cartel heads.
“I did the job,” I said to Reggie. “The Alacrans and the Scorpions are in a shooting war.”
“It could easily have gone the other way. You were told to shoot guys not shoot at them.”
“I got it done,” I said. “It wasn’t even my mission, but I got it done.”
“Anything a partner tells you is your mission.”
Lorne held up a hand. “Easy. Damon’s always been a, uh…lone gunman. He’s got his way, and it’ll take him some time to get used to the structure we’ve got now. The point is the job is done and we keep growing.”
“Si, well done, man!” Torrance yelled, smacking the table.
Baxter started a murmur of approval and others gave me thumbs up. Reggie still had embers for eyes, though. He probably figured into my reinstatement more than the rest. Still, I decided to be bold.
“Does that mean I can get this dumb patch removed?” I ran a thumb along the white stripe that read. “Probate.”
“One job doesn’t cut it, friend,” Reggie said smiling. “Even fools get lucky.”
“My son’s no fool,” Lorne said, though without anger.
“It’s just a saying.”
“It wasn’t luck,” I said. “As you can see, I’ve got skills to bring to this group that go beyond pulling a trigger. The army’s taught me things that will help us stay stronger and safer than ever.”
Lorne cut off Reggie’s reply. “We’ll see about that once you’ve proven yourself. But for now, let’s just call this a solid first step. No reinstatement yet, but there is a reward.”
He reached into a cabinet behind him, took out a Ziploc bag and slid it to me. There was a nice stack of hundreds inside - a clean thousand.
“That’s an advance payment,” Lorne said.
I flicked through the hundreds, breathing in their fresh, unwrinkled scent. Damn, was that intoxicating. I found myself smiling without even realizing. Was a little temptation all it took to kill my principles?
<
br /> Hell, I’d tossed out my reservations about Christina the second she offered me her drunken lips.
But thinking about her battened down my giddiness. Being with her meant I had no choice but to fix things. She could be my muse, among other things..
“Not bad,” I said.
“Not fucking bad at all, man,” Torrance said. “It’s just the beginning.”
“We’ll see how far you get,” Reggie said.
All eyes were on me. I didn’t have a speech planned, so I got up and left them to their business.
I counted the money again outside. I’d held more, way more. Part of the smuggling operation I ran in Asia involved laundering money for rich Chinese and that meant moving pallets of cash.
This thousand felt way more free though. Maybe it was the clean California breeze. Maybe this money felt more real knowing all I could do with it in my hometown.
Or maybe, it was because I finally knew someone better than me to spend it on.
I wanted nothing more than to rush home, grab Christina and take her out for something special. Well, maybe after a sweaty half an hour getting reacquainted. I owed that girl way more than a dinner for all the things she’d done for me in my room.
If only things were that simple.
I checked my cell and found I had a missed call. The area code was from upstate, but I didn’t recognize it. I had a flood of hope that it was one of my contacts from back in prison, a lucky coincidence to match my new capital. I dialed the number.
“California Department of Corrections,” a receptionist chirped helpfully.
Opportunity knocking? No. But this worked just fine as a potato in my exhaust.
I connected to Ronald, the parole officer in this county. He said he wanted to pay a visit and make sure he knew where to reach me.
“You’ve got an address for whoever you’re staying with?” he asked.
I couldn’t use Lorne’s house. It sure as hell wouldn’t do my probation in the MC any good to have a law officer sniffing around. I tried to remember Baxter’s address, while I studied the money I had received for illegal activities. Inspiration struck me.
“Ronald, I don’t know the address, but I’m moving into my own place this week. Let me give you the address then.”
He had every right to push back, but this was California, and I’d only been in minimum security. “Alright,” he said. “Give me a call by Sunday.”