by Jayne Blue
“Maddox, I need to take a chick to the boathouse tonight. Kind of a special occasion thing?”
“Holy shit, Bo Parker has a girlfriend? That is a special occasion. Should I alert the media?”
“Fuck off. Yes or no? I don’t want to do some stupid movie with this one, and I fucking don’t think she’s old enough to go to Cups or any of the stupid bars.”
“Uh, how young is this piece?”
“She’s not a piece, she’s 18. So?”
“Of course, brother, of course, just giving you shit. Key’s in a case on the porchlight. No one’s even in the house, Dad and my sister are out of town. Have fun.”
“Thanks, brother.”
“When do we meet her?”
“How about never?”
Maddox laughed his ass off. I knew he would, but the boathouse was worth it. I knew it was the perfect place to take Lyric.
“Good luck!”
We hung up. Maddox’s Dad, Sarge, was our former Prez at the MC. He was before my time. They had this creepy old house. I wouldn’t go near it with a ten-foot pole and an exorcist but it was on the bay. And the boathouse was private. Maddox and I spent nights there drinking and shooting the shit when we were younger.
I was just happy I came up with a fucking plan that didn’t involve me getting Lyric a fake i.d. I was so far out of my wheelhouse with this it could go to shit in a heartbeat.
Firmly in my wheelhouse however, was kicking some ass for E.Z. That shit had to get done before I could pick up Lyric.
I knew Cups was open after three so I made a point to find a dark corner. It was getting harder to find dark corners in Port Az. Port Az was changing; it was getting hip. The hipsters did not flock to bars where they’d run into scumbags like Arnie and Dougie. And Hawks were not welcome, even if they were low level.
Luckily for me and the MC, there were still enough places in Port Az like Woody’s where you could disappear with a stiff drink and a bad idea.
I’d wait at Cups until Arnie and Dougie showed up. Then I’d escort them the fuck out of the bar and out of Port Az. If I were lucky, I’d be at Wilde Pawn by six-thirty. I had to actively not think about what was waiting for me at Wilde Pawn. It would be too easy to let down my guard.
I lived my life with a chip on my shoulder. I was usually one click away from furious. Lyric totally disarmed that in me, that was something new. I pushed her out of my mind. I need to tap into that chip right now.
I was getting more and more impatient. A couple of hours went by and no sign of Arnie or Dougie. My cell buzzed. It was a text from Shep.
“Where you?”
“Cups.”
“Any cute co-eds I should know about?”
“No idea. It’s a business matter.”
“Need back up?”
“No, I’m good. This shit’s easy.”
My brothers in the MC had a shorthand. It protected us from curious ears and cops.
Shep’s roots in The Dark Saints ran deep. He was Bear and Mama Bear’s actual son. Though Mama Bear called all of us “son”.
E.Z. hated that I was close with Shep for whatever reason. E.Z. demanded loyalty and his loyalty was a jealous animal. He often reminded me that Bear was going to be on Shep’s side of club shit no matter what. He pounded it into me that Bear favored Shep.
I never saw it. If anything, Bear was hardest on Shep.
But E.Z. drilled a lot of his paranoia into me that was hard to shake, even now that I was a full member and past my probie days.
“Trust the club, but trust me above that. I brought you in. Sons make you just as weak as old ladies, Bear and Sarge are the perfect example of that. You’ll earn your way exactly like I did. Bear’s downfall will be his soft side. You can be damn sure of that.”
E.Z. warned me all the time about this club faction or that hidden motivation. They acted as one but E.Z. was convinced you had to be on guard all the time, from all directions. I didn’t think Bear had to have a downfall. But E.Z. predicted it. E.Z. had his own ideas for the direction of the club.
But thanks to Shep, Maddox, and Benz, the three members I was closest to I learned that there was more to The Dark Saints then jockeying for the big chair, like E.Z. seemed to always be doing. Even so, I owed a loyalty to E.Z. I would do as I was ordered for the MC.
It was still early at Cups. The college crowd liked to roll in at around ten. I looked at the light streaming in from the open door and my patience was rewarded. Arnie and Dougie walked in. They looked about as out of place in this sports bar as I would at a Frat party.
I stood up and cut off their path to the bar.
“What the hell?” Arnie said. From our encounter the other day, I knew him to be the boss of the two of them.
“Did you not understand some part of our conversation?” I finished the sentence and fucking Dougie, the smaller of the two assholes, lifted his hand to show me his middle finger.
Nope. Not doing it. No one treated a Saint like that. Ever. An insult to me was an insult to the patch, to E.Z., to my brothers.
I punched Dougie in the face. My fist landed on his ugly nose and blood sprayed out immediately. He doubled over.
Arnie decided to come to his rescue. Stupid fucking move. I blocked his weak ass attempt to land a punch on me in retaliation. The two of them didn’t add up to half of me. I blocked Arnie and then gave him the same as Dougie got.
Both were bleeding and probably a little stunned. I didn’t have time for conversation with them. A bouncer approached us. I looked at him and shook my head “no”.
We had an arrangement with the owners of Cups. And this fell squarely in it. Keep serious drugs and idiot pushers out. The bouncer stepped back and let me do my job.
I grabbed them both by their shirts and pushed them out the door. I shoved them down to the concrete sidewalk.
“Get the fuck out of Port Az! Get the fuck out of Texas! If I see you here again pushing your bullshit, I’ll fuck you up – like eating through a straw for the rest of your life, fucked up.”
I hauled Arnie up to my level and he gave me a murderous look.
“Get up Dougie.” Dougie struggled to his feet. Arnie looked at him with disgust. It sucked when your wingman was a piece of shit apparently.
“You’re a lap dog,” Arnie said to me. I was seeing red now. How the fucking hell dare he defy this patch? I charged him and grabbed his face with my hand. Dougie stayed back, at least he was learning.
“Get the fuck out of here, for good.”
Arnie made some sort of snorting sound at me but he wasn’t squirming. He was overmatched. They both knew it. They’d need a flock of Hawks to deal with me. That was just a fact. I let Arnie’s face go.
“Let’s go, Dougie. This part of town smells like piss.” The two of them walked to the Lincoln they drove around in.
I didn’t know if they were stupid enough to show up in Port Az again, but I’d delivered the message to both of them, with blood this time.
I looked at my phone, it was just after six. I texted E.Z.
“It’s done.”
Then I ran my hand through my hair. I had another appointment.
I wasn’t going to be late to pick up Lyric. Shit. I didn’t want to disappoint her on our first fucking date. Jesus. Date? I was way too far gone to date.
I worked to calm myself. I wanted to be the best I could be for Lyric.
I hoped the ride on my Harley to her store aired out the blood and violence that was soaked into my leather.
5
Lyric
* * *
“You look pretty.”
My mom had just closed the store for the day.
“Thank you, where’s Papus?”
“Resting, I think he works too hard sometimes.”
“You work too hard all the time.”
She did, they both did and it was why I never complained about working in the pawnshop when my friends were at football games or dances. I knew if I wanted a future I had to do
my part. And it was only a small part compared to them. It was me, mom, and Papus against the world.
“Eh, so, why are you so fixed up?” It was true. Normally I had the hair in a pony and today I’d blown it out, an epic endeavor. I’d also picked one of my favorite funky flowy skirts and paired it with a tight pink t-shirt.
I’d made sure the skirt was flowy enough to handle me straddling a bike. For some reason I wanted Bo to see my style. I wanted to be me, as much as I knew who me really was.
“A date.”
“Oh, one of your recent graduate classmates! The valedictorian perhaps? Marcus has a nerdy cool vibe I think.”
My mother wasn’t one to pry, and mostly I felt like she was my older sister. We’d raised each other, she was a young single mom, and I admired the hell out of her.
She would love if I was dating the class genius.
“No, his name is Bo. He’s not like any boy I’ve ever dated before.”
“Oh? How so?”
“He didn’t’ go to Port Az High with me, he’s a couple years older.”
“How much older?” My mom may be like a sister, but she was still a mom.
“Four years.”
“Twenty-two? That’s a quite a bit.”
“Um, not really. If he had gone to Port Az he’d have been senior when I was a freshman. Not a biggie.”
“You are wise beyond your years. Always have been.”
My mom came over and repositioned a lock of my wild Wilde hair. Presumably she’d put it in a better place than where it had naturally landed.
“Don’t worry. But don’t wait up. I’m going to go to my friend’s grad party and spend the night after my date.” It was a straight-up lie. But I didn’t want her to worry nor did I want to interrupt my date to check in. I wanted to start learning what it was like to be on my own.
“Okay, well, be careful. Anything I should know? Anything you should know?” My mom had killer radar. She knew there was something different about me. I knew it too. I was on fire for Bo. No matter how hard I tried to be casual.
“Uh, he drives a motorcycle.”
My mom performed some sort of Gypsy anti-hex maneuver and I rolled my eyes.
“Just be careful. I love you. And …” My mom’s advice was cut off by a cough.
“You sick?”
She was never sick.
“Summer cold going around at the bank. Get a move on. Let’s not let Papus wake up and see you on the back of a hog.”
She scooted me out the door. In the end I knew she trusted me. Heck, in a few weeks she was letting me go away to college.
But she also worried that a man could change the course of my life the way it had hers. She said I was the best thing that ever happened to her, but still, I wondered, what would she have done if my daddy was in the picture? Or if she hadn’t been a young mom?
Water under the bridge, that’s what she would say whenever I tried to ask what her dreams were before I came along.
I walked out front of the store and I heard the roar before I saw it. Bo’s bike rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of me.
Bo looked at me and I got what I’d hoped for. He was hungry, and he looked at me like I was the meal. Something about that was so overwhelmingly sexy. I didn’t know how to respond so I smiled like an idiot.
“You look fucking gorgeous, Wild Girl.”
“Thank you.”
He put out a hand and pulled me forward. I climbed on the back of his bike, scooping my skirt to the side and securing it in a little knot.
“Thought we’d ride a little? That okay?” he called back to me as we picked up speed.
“I like that.”
As keyed up as I was to see him, something in me also settled down as I pressed into his back and held on. Bo was solid, his body was warm, and I felt my skin connect to his by being so near to him.
Maybe I was too young, too innocent, but on some deeper level, it felt like Bo and I had been looking for each other.
After about a half hour of riding in slow loops around town, we went near The Castle Mansion. I was almost disappointed the ride was over. I loved the feeling so much. But I was curious as heck about this house. I was amazed he’d brought me here.
“Holy crap, you’re kidding right? Isn’t this place haunted?”
“It’s okay, I know the ghosts.”
The Castle was a giant mansion on a small peninsula on the Port Azreal Bay. I had only seen it from far away. It was beautiful and abandoned. I had wondered many times what it must have looked like in its heyday.
Bo passed the house though. I turned my head around to look at it again. It was out of place and time in Port Az. I was a little disappointed we weren’t going in.
He traveled just a bit further and slowed down as we approached a sandy area with a dock next to a boathouse. Bo pulled up next to the boathouse and cut the engine. He offered his hand and helped me off the bike. I didn’t really need it, I was getting used to handling it, but I didn’t mind having a reason to take Bo’s hand.
“Let me get the gear.”
I watched him open a case attached to the back of the bike. It was kind of amazing how useful and beautiful this machine was. I may not have been someone who grew up around motorcycles – in fact the idea of Papus on one made me giggle – but I did love craftsmanship. I loved beautifully made things, and there was no doubt his Harley was in that category.
Bo produced a soft cooler and a blanket. I followed him to the end of the dock that extended from the boathouse. We were totally alone. I was excited by that thought. Also, completely scared. I didn’t have any more clue on what to do than I did the other night.
I didn’t know what to say either. So I looked across the bay to buy some time.
The skyscape of Port Az was sparkly now that the sun had gone down. The sunset had helped lessen the Texas heat. Port Az in June wasn’t exactly comfortable, but as night settled over us, I couldn’t imagine a more perfect place on earth.
“This is our dinner destination?”
Bo looked a little worried at my question.
“I, well, yeah, you okay with being out under the stars? We also have the boathouse if you’d rather be inside.”
“No, I think this is perfect. I never think of Port Az as beautiful, but it really is right now.”
Bo turned his gaze to the water too.
“Yeah, it’s not too bad at night from out here?”
“Not too bad.”
“Alright, take an end.”
Bo handed me the corner of a wool blanket and we spread it on the dock. He indicated for me to sit. He opened the cooler and produced our dinner.
“We’ve got cheese, some fancy ones, I think. Bread, also nice stuff, and chocolate chip cookies. Sound okay?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“And we’re drinking cola or water since you’re not legal.”
“I’m legal! I just can’t drink.” Watching Bo bring out what he’d packed and spread it for us was the sweetest thing I’d ever seen. He was so big and tough, and yet here he unpacking a picnic dinner. I could die from the sweetness of it.
“Dig in.”
I grabbed piece of cheese, Bo took a piece of bread and we sat together.
I noticed the knuckles on his right hand were scraped.
“What happened?”
“What?”
I nodded in the direction of his hand. He lifted it and checked it out.
“This? Cut myself shaving.”
I almost choked with laughter at that. Underneath the tough exterior was a sense of humor, and someone who bought me cookies. I couldn’t ask for a better combination.
“I appreciate the effort. Girls don’t like men with hairy knuckles.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Seriously though, are you okay?” I was curious. What did Bo do for The Dark Saints?
“More than okay. I’m sitting here with the most beautiful girl in Port Az. I’m fucking great.”
<
br /> “I have to ask though. What happened?”
Bo didn’t answer. He was clearly weighing what to tell me. Was I some summer fling or someone you could share things with? I didn’t know the answer to that myself.
“I have to ask you. Do you really want to know?” His voice was low. It was a serious question. I considered it.
“I really do want to know.”
Again, he seemed to be considering what to say, how much to reveal to me. I wondered if he trusted me. I trusted him. It was totally impossible to explain but I did.
“I had to kick the shit out of those same two dudes that were in the store the other day.”
“Arnie and uh, Dougie?”
“The very same.”
“The police told me they were harmless and not to worry.”
“You shouldn’t worry. I took care of them. They won’t show their faces in Port Az again.”
“You explained this with your fist?”
“Among other ways, yes.”
Bo Parker was dangerous. Whatever he did for The Dark Saints wasn’t pretty.
“You said you were an outlaw. What does that mean?”
“Saints do whatever it takes to protect Port Az. We keep shitheads like Arnie and Dougie out of town. And worse.”
“You sound like the police.”
“Except we don’t make our money protecting and serving. That’s all you need to know, I think.”
“Am I safe with you?”
Bo and I locked eyes. He leaned in close to me. It was almost a whisper.
“No.” My face was in his hands and his lips were on mine. My lips parted and his tongue probed in. We were both ravenous but not for the food he’d laid out on the dock. His hands moved down to my waist and he drew me closer.
I pressed myself up against him. Bo’s lips trailed to my neck. This was so luscious. So intense. I’d always been almost an observer of my own body when it came to making out with a boy. I wondered during the clumsy dates I’d had, was I doing it right? Was my date? I was never swept away.
I was now. My body reacted to his tongue on my skin. And I wanted more. I wasn’t assessing if things were right, because they just were.