by Jayne Blue
I nursed my beer for a few minutes when E.Z. walked out of the back offices. He scanned the room, found me, then pointed. He wanted to talk, so I followed his lead.
I walked into the office that he and Bear, our Prez, used when they were in the club.
“You take care of Dougie and Arnie?”
“Yeah, tracked them to a pawn shop.”
“You put the beat down on them?”
“No need. I scared them off without laying a finger on them.”
“Your job is to beat the shit out of them. They need to know they’re supposed to get the fuck out and stay out. They need to be scared as fuck of The Saints.”
“You told me to be sure they left. They’re gone. I watched them drive out of city limits. Just like you asked.” I had seen them leave town; it was exactly what I’d been told to do. It was easy to find their trail after I left Lyric. I’d watched their old Lincoln roll out of town.
“Next time, remove some of their teeth while you’re at it.”
Fucking E.Z. was a dick. I had no idea why it was so important.
“They’re two low-level idiots.” That had been clear from the few minutes I’d spent with them.
“I better not see them around town or I’m going for your fucking patch.”
I didn’t say a word. I kept his mouth shut. E.Z. could be a hot head and he started fights with everyone in the club. But it was E.Z. who had taken me under his wing when I was a wild kid. It was E.Z. who recommended me to graduate from probie to full member. It was also E.Z.’s ex-wife and Mama Bear who did their best to replace my mom.
I owed E.Z. but some days it was tough to be on the Veep’s side. E.Z. liked to be on the opposite of every fucking club vote.
I clenched my jaw. I didn’t fight back against E.Z.’s mean side.
“We done here?” I was tired of dealing with E.Z.s moods. I decided to get the hell out of the M.C. for the rest of the night.
I hooked up with Shep, Maddox, Kade, and Benz.
We like to drink at Woody’s.
“What was that about with E.Z?” Kade asked.
“Same dick, different day,” I said. Kade laughed at that one.
We ordered another round. We started telling our old probie war stories. Each one was more pathetic than the one before it. Part of coming up as a Dark Saint was living through the shit jobs of the club.
“None of you can top that time Bear threw his back out and I had to try to figure out a way to carry him to the van with Mama Bear half laughing but also trying to look sympathetic at the same time,” Maddox said.
“I can’t even imagine trying to pick him up,” Benz said.
“Yeah, it was very romantic,” Maddox replied.
These were my brothers, the reason I’d take shit for E.Z. I’d take a bullet for any one of them. The club and its members were my sanctuary. The club scooped me up after life had dealt me a shitty hand. I thanked God every day for the MC and my Harley.
At the end of the night, Benz, Shep, Kade, and Maddox were ready to head out. It was late.
I didn’t want to be alone. A busty bleach blonde had been hanging off me on and off throughout the night. I leaned down. She leaned up. She kissed me. It tasted like cheap whiskey and menthol cigarettes. She stuck her tongue down my throat. She slid up against me. It should have been hot.
It would have been just the ticket any other time. I fucking liked getting laid by just this type of piece of ass. She had the tits, the ass, the blonde hair, and even some sexy ink. But the kiss left me cold. I wasn’t into her and tried to let her down easy.
“Sorry baby, not tonight. I got an early morning.”
“Oh, I can be fast and furious on that gorgeous body of yours.” She was coming on strong and it was even less appealing the more she offered.
“Next time.” I smiled and paid the tab.
I walked out to my bike. I revved the engine. I looked toward Copper and 10th street. Another woman was on my mind.
Lyric. Her name, like a song you couldn’t forget, was on replay in my brain.
She was on Copper Street.
I was going to see that girl again.
I looked down at my vintage cowboy boots.
Maybe it was time to see how much I’d get if I pawned them?
3
Lyric
* * *
“That was the most boring speech I’ve ever heard,” Papus said to mom as we finished our brunch. Papus had decided to open the shop late today so I’d have a cheering section at graduation.
“Marcus did a lovely job as valedictorian, give the poor kid a break.” My mom was beaming. I’d worn a dress for a change. She was straight-up thrilled.
“It was still boring. It could have used a joke. Something.”
Port Az High graduation was a quick affair: there were less than one hundred kids in my class. I insisted that they didn’t even need to come. They insisted they wouldn’t miss it.
They took pictures of me in my dorky cap and gown, and all three of us had omelets for brunch afterward.
“Thank you for sitting through it, Papus.”
“I told you I wouldn’t miss it,” Papus said.
“I’ll take the dayshift today to pay you back.”
“Sounds like a good deal to me,” Papus replied. We walked from the restaurant back to Wilde Pawn. “I’ll make a big dinner tonight while you mind the store. You’re looking too skinny for my liking, Naomi.”
My mother was slim. I envied her sleek shape. Papus was always trying to fatten her up.
“Oh, please, I’m fine. In fact, I couldn’t be happier.”
I knew that my mom worked so hard like she did for me. She was proud of me. She was also proud of herself for saving enough for me to go to college. It was her lifelong goal, letting me pursue my goals.
“Ah, you’re a boneyard.”
“Shh. Lyric, close the shop at six and we’ll have dinner after. I am going to take a little nap.” That was different. I was glad to hear it. I knew my mom worked day and night. Taking a day off for graduation was against her character. I hope she did get a chance to rest.
“Don’t wait for me for dinner. I may go out for little with my friends, you know, we’re all graduates now.”
“We won’t wait up.”
My mother trusted me. I had never given her a reason not to. The three of us were a team. I knew they were both proud of me.
I would miss them when I left. I was leaving in the middle of summer, to get settled.
They headed up to our rooms above the shop. I went down and unlocked the store. Saturdays were usually busy days. Sure enough, there was a line of three people waiting to get inside.
“No morning hours today?”
“Sorry, we were at my graduation,” I replied. I got to work appraising price and quality for the box of old watches presented to me.
I spent the day buying and selling in the store. I was good at assessing jewelry; that was something I could do just as well as Papus from the time I was 12. We also took old guns, china, silverware, and power tools. If I thought I could resell it, I bought it. The key was knowing how much to buy it for and what was a turkey. That was what Papus liked to call the unsellable stuff: turkeys.
I’d trained my entire life in this shop. Papus liked to brag that I was probably the only 18-year-old girl in Texas who could tell you if your circular saw was worth a damn.
I wasn’t allowed to buy textiles. Papus wasn’t in the “rag business,” as he liked to say, but he did let me convince him that home furnishings, to some degree, could be worth something. I didn’t see it as a chore, working at the shop. I saw it as the first training for my design career.
Someday I’d design clothes in New York! Or maybe design houses in L.A.?
The day passed quickly.
It was almost closing time. A text from my friends let me know whose party was first on the list of grad bashes. I wasn’t that into it, but it would be the last few weeks I would see these peopl
e, so I figured why not.
The shop was emptying out when I heard the bell of one more customer. I decided to go to the door and lock up, so no one snuck in after I handled this last transaction of the day.
I stopped in my tracks when I saw who it was.
“Hi Lyric, I’ve got a pair of boots here. Wondered if you could tell me what they’re worth?”
Bo was there, looking sexier than I remembered. His eyes were more intense than the way I’d conjured them in my dreams this past week. He held up the boots I’d noticed on him the other day.
“Hmm. Let’s see.”
The first rule of negotiating a price was not to look too impressed. I put on my poker face and led Bo over to the counter.
I needed to get in my comfort zone behind the glass case. I walked in front of him and felt his eyes on me. I didn’t know how but I just knew he was checking me out. Why in the hell did I have to be wearing a dress? I didn’t look tough at all in this thing. Ugh. He probably liked tough chicks.
Bo put the boots on the counter. He was dressed the same as the other day, perfectly beat-up jeans, a white t-shirt, and that sexy black leather jacket. I noticed some of the patches on it this time. Dark Saints. That was what one of those guys said the other day; they called him “Saint”. I had heard the name Dark Saints MC but had no idea what it really meant.
Bo put the boots on the counter and I was mesmerized by his eyes.
“So, the boots? What’ll you give me for ‘em?” I was enthralled by his voice. Bo’s quiet presence threw me off my game. I knew he was a biker. But my imagination could picture the way the old Cowboys in this town must have been. He was imposing, still, smoldering, and so Texas it was ridiculous.
“Yep, okay. Let’s see. Falconhead Tres Outlaw. You know those are top drawer? You have good taste.” I was going to have to watch the rambling. It was embarrassing.
“I do know.”
I wondered why he was giving up these babies, I stole a glance down and he had a new pair of black boots on. Maybe it was a style thing. These older boots had beautiful butterscotch full quill ostrich vamps with brown calfskin leather uppers. They really were a work of art.
But I wasn’t going to say so.
“I’ll give you a hundred bucks for them.”
“You’re trying to take advantage of me, Lyric.”
He was hitting on me. Shit. How did I reply to that, how did I match him? I couldn’t.
“I wouldn’t think of it. I’m running a business here.”
I tried not to look away, but it was impossible. I couldn’t handle his intensity. I looked down for a moment. Staying cool was not easy around Bo.
“You’re looking at a pair of boots that could easily get 500 bucks on eBay.”
“You’re not at eBay, you’re at Wilde Pawn.”
“True. 150 bucks and you buy me dinner.”
“Uh, what?”
Bo leaned over the counter closer to me. I felt my chest rise and fall with the nearness of him. He smelled clean, like the air outside, and something else … maybe the bike he rode.
“I said, you give me $150 for these spectacular boots and you take me to dinner. You’ll be making a good profit for your store down the line. So even though you’re swindling the hell out of me, I’ll still get to spend time with the most beautiful pawnbroker in Texas.”
His words were one thing, what it actually felt like he said, was “get naked.” Or maybe my imagination was running wild?
I had no idea why but Bo’s intentions toward me were as real as the boots on the counter. I felt a ripple of nerves in my chest and something thrilling deeper in my body. I’d never actually gotten naked with a boyfriend. This was beyond dangerous. Of course, he also hadn’t asked.
I needed to put the brakes on my own brain.
I wanted to be clever, older, cooler, and well, as tough as he looked. But all I could come up with was one word.
“Deal.”
“Good. When you’re done here I’ll be out front.”
He put out his hand and I stared for a second, wondering what he wanted me to do. Hold his hand?
“My money?”
“Ah, yeah, right. Hold on one moment please.”
I put the paperwork together for the boots and put them in the back to be processed. I also got his cash together and handed it to him. I tried not to touch him. For some reason, that seemed almost more than I could deal with. Yet I’d just agreed to buy him dinner.
He shoved the money in his back pocket.
“Out front. What? Ten minutes?” he asked me, and I nodded in agreement. I’d never been tongue-tied before but I was with him. I was almost relieved when I heard him leave the store. I raced around like a lunatic and completed my closing procedures.
Oh my God! I was going to go out with Bo, to dinner. What would we talk about? What could I possibly say that was interesting to this rebel biker? If it didn’t go well I’d Uber it to my friend’s grad party. It would be a good excuse. I worked it out in my mind. I’d go to dinner and the grad party would be my escape hatch.
I finished up at the store and grabbed my bag. We had a mirror on the sales floor. It was a fancy framed deal that someone had brought over after cleaning out their grandparent’s house or something like that. I stood in front of it.
I hadn’t known this day would end with a date. I was in a shirtwaist dress and wedge sandals from graduation. He probably dated girls who wore leather pants. My hair was trying to stay in a messy bun on my head. It was failing; it was messier than a bun.
Screw it. I was fine. This was fine. I was going to go on a little adventure with Bo, uh, Bo? Shit. I didn’t even know his last name.
I threw my doubts away. I walked with all the confidence I could muster out the front door. I locked it and turned to see Bo astride his motorcycle. Holy shit, don’t fail me now confidence! I walked over to him and he smiled at me.
If I had any doubt that I was attracted to every inch this man, it was erased when his dark intense face smiled in my direction. He was heartthrob beautiful in a roughed-up package. And I was getting on his bike with no question as to where we were riding. I didn’t care where.
He gave me a hand and I slid behind him on the bike. Shit, I was wearing damn dress. I tried to act like that was no big deal. But it was a big deal. I was up against him with only my panties between us. Jesus. Was my body writing checks that my experience level could not cash? Yes, the answer was yes.
“Hold on. And you’re taking me for Mexican food by the way.”
“You think so? You’re lucky I like Mexican.”
The bike roared to life and I felt it vibrate between my bare legs. I did as Bo said and put my arms around him.
“I am lucky.”
We pulled out onto Copper Road and I held even tighter. There was a raw power to the bike and the way Bo drove it. I tried not to cling too tightly. I couldn’t help but notice the sunset over Port Az. Seeing it this way made me realize how pretty it was. Riding in the open air turned the hot night bearable.
Before long we were at Tres Hermanos. I’d been there before but it had been a while.
Bo got off the bike and then offered a hand to me. Bo was staring at me. I was sure that meant my hair had gone to Muppet level disarray after the bike ride.
“Can I ask you something?” I said as I tried to tuck my hair behind my ears and brush away the strands that were breaking free.
“Ask away.”
“What’s your last name?”
“Parker, my name’s Beauregard Parker. Very southern, eh?”
“Very.”
“Can I do something?” He asked me. I nodded.
Bo leaned in. I took a deep breath. His lips met mine. They were warm and surprisingly soft. I kissed back. There wasn’t a thought of how or why, my lips reacted to his lips on their own. It was slow kiss, but it felt like water simmering on a fire. It bubbled up so quickly. Something between us crackled with energy.
I felt Bo’s stro
ng arms around me and he pulled me forward. I was up against his body and felt a warmth in my center that radiated to my cheeks. I separated our lips and looked into his eyes. I was still enveloped in his arms.
I didn’t know what to say or do after something so intense and intimate. I didn’t even know how to play games about this stuff. Was I supposed to be so into it? So fast? Where was the roadmap? My hands were on his solid chest and I looked up at him.
“I love your eyelashes,” Bo said. I closed my eyes. I wasn’t usually shy, but I felt like it then.
“Thank you. I love your lips.”
Shit. That was what I chose to say? It couldn’t be the right thing to say. Bo laughed and leaned down and gave me another quick kiss.
“You hold a shotgun on a couple of creeps one day, you get the best of me in the pawn shop another day, but I can make you blush today. You’re not like other girls I’ve met.”
“Yeah? Same to you.”
“I could stand here all night and kiss you. But you owe me dinner, Wilde.”
Bo loosened his arms around me but didn’t let me go. He kept one hand on my back and rotated me toward the front door of Tres Hermanos.
I was used to handling myself in the store, at school, and pretty much everywhere. My Papus and mom raised me to be independent. I didn’t have an overprotective dad or even a fun uncle. As we walked to our booth, Bo walked ahead of me, held my hand, and I felt like he was almost making a path for me. It was as if he wanted to be sure where we were going was okay. It was subtle but distinctive.
I saw people react to him. They noticed him. He was hard not to stare at. I’d only ever seen someone that handsome in a movie. Not at the Tres Hermanos on a Saturday night.
They seated us in a u-shaped booth. I kept my distance and tried to process the hormones Bo Parker had stirred up in me.
We scanned the menus, ate some chips and salsa, and I tried to act normal. Whatever that was. The waitress came to take our order. I swear she was flirting with Bo.
“Anything else, sugar?” she asked him after he ordered. I didn’t get the same question.
“No, we’re good thanks.” The waitress was pretty, probably not much older than me, blonde. But Bo didn’t flirt back. He kept his eyes on me.