by Terri Lane
Fearful of the future, but determined to do something other than sit around feeling afraid, Jessica had applied to every after-hours position that she could get her hands on. After many, many fruitless searches and dead ends, she had finally found a position that suited her perfectly. She was to work several shifts per week at a local bar, from five pm until closing time.
Between that and her day-job, Jessica at least had a chance of meeting the debts that loomed over her head. It was a slim chance, but it was a chance none the less, and Jessica was going to give it her best shot.
It wasn’t too bad, after all. The bikers were intimidating, but as long as she gave them their drinks and kept out of their way, she did alright with tips, and found that the bar acted as a bit of a buffer between her and them.
Jessica took a deep breath and made her way back to the front of the bar. The place smelt like alcohol and sawdust, the kind which was scattered all over the floor. It was a musty sort of smell, made stronger by the smell of leather and oil which seemed ingrained in this place after so many years of housing it.
Jessica reached up and adjusted her hair, a clip holding it back and out of her face. It wasn’t until she looked up, that she realized there was a customer at the bar. With a start, she lowered her hands, “Sorry sir, how can I help you?”
“Jessica, right?” His voice was low and slow in a way that oozed confidence. He didn’t look impressed, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry either.
“Uh, yes, right.” Jessica’s eyes flew down to the name tag that was pinned to her shirt, “What can I get for you?” She smiled, the expression slipping onto her face with ease. Always be nice to the customer.
The man shrugged, drawing Jessica’s eyes to the way his muscles bunched beneath his shirt. He was a big guy, there was no getting away from it. Unlike most of the men in the bar, he wasn’t wearing a jacket, or much gear at all. Instead, he wore a black shirt and jeans, a helmet in one hand. His hair was short, and light, styled into a modern cut that made Jessica’s insides tighten.
He cut an impressive figure, and the way in which he held himself left no doubt that he knew he was in charge of any situation he happened to walk into. Confident, predatory.
He smiled, and while it was charming, it wasn’t welcoming, “Well…you could start by giving me my fucking money.”
Jessica’s eyes flew to his face and, for a moment, she could not find the words to speak, “What?”
“My money, Jessica.” The way he said he name sent shivers down Jessica’s spine, shivers that tingled all the way through her. He was not messing around, “The money Kevin borrowed.”
Fear surged through her, but the bubbling anger that had been simmering beneath the surface all evening threatened to make itself known. How dare he? She was working at all hours to try and pay back the debts of that cheating bastard, and now this guy had the nerve to come and harass her at work for even more money that she didn’t have.
Jessica resisted the urge to step back, valiantly staring him in the eye, “Kevin’s not here. I never borrowed a cent from you.”
Her voice sounded stronger than she felt, but she held her ground. The man at the bar just laughed, a low, rumbling chuckle that held more malice than all the threats in the world could have, “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t get it.” He shook his head slowly, “You’re paying us back the money, even if you have to sell your house.”
Something about the way he said it made Jessica feel cold. He wasn’t bluffing, he wasn’t trying to build up his act with bravado and bluster. He hadn’t even built up his threats. He had spoken the words like they were a given, like he couldn’t be bothered to give her more than five minutes of his time, because he had things to do. Like take her house.
But he couldn’t do that. He had no legal right to do that, and the anger than had dimmed to embers flared up again, “My house?” She looked around quickly, making sure she wasn’t disturbing the other, paying customers, “Who do you think you are, threatening me like this?”
“Name’s Troy.” He smiled again, and this time he seemed to be genuinely amused, “Enforcer for your friendly local…” He paused and his grin turned almost wolfish, ‘Motorcycle Enthusiast Club.”
“Your boy Kevin borrowed money from the wrong guys, and I’m here to collect.” He stepped away from the bar, “If you don’t believe me, you’d better come and talk to the boss.” He smirked and glanced towards where the manager was standing, talking to the customers, “I’m sure your boss would be understanding, right?”
A meaningful glance at Jessica told her everything she needed to know. She was to follow him– or else. Nausea rose in her guts. So much for an early night, and so much for time to rest before the next shift tomorrow. So much for a life free of danger and debt. So much for love.
For just a moment, Jessica contemplated not going with him, turning him down and going to the cops. The thought sunk beneath the waves of her imagination almost as quickly as she had conjured it. It was foolish- it was folly. Even if she spoke to the cops, they would never side with her on this one- she knew that much for certain. That was just how things worked around here.
And if she didn’t follow him, she would lose her chance to plead her case, or sort this thing out. It would be just as good as giving up and handing him the keys to the only home she had. She had nothing to lose by following him, and everything to lose by being stubborn and staying put. Despite the danger that seemed to crackle like electricity around Troy, Jessica didn’t believe that he was here to hurt her. The biker gangs around here were tough, but Jessica didn’t hear of many casualties outside of their own circles, and even then, they had been quiet lately.
Jessica just hoped that they valued her ability to pay them back more than they valued petty revenge. Jessica hardened her resolve, “Let me get my things.”
Without waiting for a response, Jessica made her way into the back of the bar. She undid her apron, shed her name tag and changed into her own coat, slinging her handbag over her shoulder. When she reappeared, Troy was still there, waiting. He grinned and offered her his arm, a mockery of the gallant gentleman.
Jessica folded her arms tightly instead, keeping her head down as she walked out into a night. She was stubbing him, and she knew it. Troy’s eyes glittered with danger, and Jessica stubbornly ignored the sparks that flooded her system at the sight. She’d had enough of the bad boys. She had gotten into nothing but trouble with Kevin, and, in hind sight, she should have spotted his true colors right away. She would not be blinded again. Not again.
She was smarter this time, better than that. She had had enough of flings that started with passion and breathless nights and ended with broken promises and bitter regrets. Her life without Kevin was giving her something that he never could, security. Sure, it was hard, and it was not the life she had once dreamed of, but it was safe and secure, and Jessica valued that more than anything else. Anyone that knew her could tell you that.
Before Jessica knew it, they had come to a stop beside a massive bike. It oozed the same sort of power that Troy did and Jessica found herself drawn towards it in a way that she knew she shouldn’t. Bikes, like the men who rode them, were just bad news. Fun to be around, easy to get caught up in their presence, but bad news for those who loved them.
Troy didn’t seem to care about her hesitation. He pulled a jacket from the handlebars and jumped onto the bike like it was the most natural thing in the world, after flicking out the kickstand. He pulled it upright and slid his helmet into place, looking at Jessica expectantly, “You coming?”
Reluctantly, Jessica moved to the bike. Troy handed her a helmet and started up the engine. Jessica almost dropped the helmet in surprise. The engine purred, a welcome sound, a sound that thrilled Jessica in ways that she no longer wanted to be thrilled, touched her in places that no man had touched her since Kevin. She shivered, and found herself putting on the helmet despite herself.
Troy offered her a hand onto the bike, but she ignored
him, choosing to climb on without his help. She could feel him laughing in front of her, and through the helmet she heard him speak, “Might want to hold onto me, sweetheart.”
He flicked his visor down, and before Jessica knew it, the bike was moving. She leaned in and clutched at Troy’s jacket, grabbing it tightly in her hands. Her arms found their way around him, clinging to his broad form as the bike sped out onto the road. She could feel the way he shook with laughter, the scent of leather and petrol, the wind that seemed to speed by, whipping through her clothing and through the strands of hair that had escaped the helmet.
Her anger was overtaken by wonder, by a sense of freedom that seemed to envelop her, chasing away the debts that Kevin had left her with, chasing away the exhaustion that came of working so many long nights at the bar, the regret of a failed marriage and the sorrow of loneliness.
It all seemed to melt away into nothing, into the feel of the bike and the wind and Troy. The feel of him pressed against her, solid and strong, muscles tightening as he guided the bike down its path was electric. The way he controlled such an untameable beast made her long to do the same, and for the first time that evening, he no longer seemed so terrifying and hateful.
It wasn’t easy to hate a man who was giving you such a sense of freedom, such a sense of joy. It was hard to hate a man with a laugh like the purr of a motorcycle’s engine.
***
The drive ended far too quickly, the ride coming to an end seemingly before it had even started. All too soon, the bike rolled to a stop. The building was not far from the bar at all, a thought that made Jessica’s heart catch in her throat. All of the worries and stresses that had fled while she was on the bike had returned, piling onto her and crushing her, leaving her feeling sick and uncomfortable. She jumped off the bike as quickly as possible, shedding the helmet like an old skin and dropping it onto the seat. She adjusted her clothes and folded her arms, trying her best not to look as if she was terrified.
Troy took his time getting off the bike, setting up the kickstand and taking off his helmet. This time, he didn’t bother to shed his jacket. He grinned, “Enjoy the ride?”
Jessica decided not to answer that. The excitement of the ride still burnt through her, tingling through her limbs. She didn’t want to let him know that, though. She was not about to admit to anything, “Where’s your boss?”
Troy laughed, a sound infused with both malice and humor, “Hold your horses, he’s up inside.” Jessica followed Troy through the doors into a building that was surprisingly opulent, although the biker influence was painted all across the décor, and the familiar smell of gas, oil and leather seemed to have soaked into the very walls of the place. It was dimly lit as they made their way up the stairs. Troy knocked on the door to announce himself, and then flung it open.
Jessica squinted as the light hit her, flooding the hall way. Troy didn’t seem phased, wandering into the room confidently. Jessica followed behind him as her eyes adjusted to the light.
The lighting was moody and low, but still bright enough to blind someone coming in from the darkness of the hallway. It was a well decorated room, and it reminded Jessica more of a bar than the opulent surroundings suggested. Smokey counters and club memorabilia littered the space, men sitting around. They barely looked up when Jessica entered, save to shoot her a curious glance. One look at Troy beside her, and all of their questions seemed to be satisfied.
Troy ignored them all, making his way across the room to where two men were speaking. They were both bikers, that much was obvious from once glance. One was broad chested with rugged beard, his jacket littered with badges. He was nodding as the other man spoke. It was him that really drew in Jessica’s attention.
He was tall, maybe even taller than Troy. He had the build of a man who knew how hold his own in a fight, but unlike the man he was speaking to, he stood straight. He radiated a proud sort of arrogance, a confidence that was seen in the tall stand of his back and the way he casually leaned against the bar as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His hair was dark, and his eyes were electric. His white shirt and blue jeans were stark against all of the black. The only part of him that fit in was the heavy leather jacket he wore, which had a huge crest emblazoned on the back, and the heavy boots that were planted on the ground.
He glanced up when he saw Troy approaching and a slow smile spread across his face. The other man glanced back and then nodded, turning around and heading off in another direction.
Realization hit Jessica like a bolt of lightning. This must be Troy’s boss. There was no mistaking the confidence of a man who knew that he was in charge and had no problems flaunting it.
Troy approached him easily and Jessica found herself admiring the way he approached this man with no hesitation, “Ace, I’ve brought Kevin’s girl. She wants to talk.”
“I am not Kevin’s girl.” It was stupid to talk right now, insane to run her mouth and get herself into trouble, but she just could not stand being constantly talked to like she was still in a relationship with that backstabber. He was in the past, and even though her stomach fluttered at the sight of Ace and did flips at the way Troy rode his bike, she was through with this type of guy.
“You’re not?” Ace met her gaze and she was startled with how blue his eyes were, “Then you’re just being a great friend and paying off his debts?” Sarcasm laced his words, but it was subtler than she had expected.
When she didn’t answer, he smirked, “I don’t care whether or not you’re still fucking him: you’re his girl, so you’ve got to pay.”
Anger bubbled in Jessica’s chest, “I didn’t borrow anything from you.” She stepped forward in a motion that was far bolder than she felt. Ace laughed, a low sound that was nothing like Troy. In an instant, she could see how Ace had risen to the top. In an instant, she could see the hardness that lurked behind his eyes, “Don’t play with me. I like a girl with a bit of personality, but do you know what I like even more?”
He reached into his jacket pocket, fishing out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He lit up and took a long drag, staring at Jessica as if he expected an answer. When he got none, he chuckled, “My money.”
He took another drag, “Either you come up with the cash in, say… a week… or you sell your house and we get our money that way.”
Jessica finally found her voice, “My house is all I have. I can’t sell it.” She hated the desperate edge that had worked its way into her voice, and she curled her hands into fists, straightening her posture and trying to look intimidating, to look like someone who wasn’t exhausted and on the verge of breaking down.
Ace shrugged, and Jessica could tell that this conversation was already over, before it had properly begun, “You have a week. I take it you know how much you owe?”
Ace fixed her with a hard look. Jessica felt nausea swirl in her stomach. She could recall the piles of bills at home, one that had seemed less formal, but so much more ominous. Yes, she knew how much she owed. Thousands and thousands of dollars. She was working to pay it back, but she just couldn’t earn the money quickly enough.
“I need more time.” She finally managed, but her request sounded weak even to her own ears. She was sure that, while she had barely any time to pay all of this back, Kevin must have had ages.
Jessica felt her hope draining from her as Ace shrugged and took another long puff of his cigarette. Jessica wanted to scream, to make this man understand that this was her life he was messing with! He looked so casual, so utterly composed, with broad shoulders and piercing, electric eyes and more power than he knew what to do with.
What did he understand of her life?
Before she had a chance to speak, Troy stepped in, taking her by the arm, “Thanks, Ace. I’ll see her out.”
“What are you doing?” Jessica jerked her arm out of Troy’s grasp the moment they had turned away from Ace.
“Keep walking.” Troy’s voice was low and threatening, giving no room for argument. Once they had
reached the door, Troy guided her through it firmly, shutting the door behind him and plunging them into the dim light of the evening.
“Why did you do that?” Jessica knew that she was being stupid, arguing with a dangerous man on his turf, but she just couldn’t help it, “I can’t pay the money.” Her voice was a hiss, angry and bold, but her hands were shaking and she wrapped her arms around herself. What was she meant to do now?
She expected Troy to be angry, expected to face his wrath for arguing with his boss. Instead, his voice was softer than she had heard it before now, “Takes guts to argue with Ace.” The comment was casual, offhanded, and it caught Jessica off guard.
Troy shrugged as he began to make his way down the stairs, “It’s also stupid. Do you want him to add on more interest to your account?”
“He can’t do that.” Jessica’s voice sounded uncertain even to herself as she followed him down the stairs.
“I’ll take that bet.” Troy stepped into the night, a sigh escaping him as he wandered towards his bike. When Jessica didn’t follow, he glanced back over his shoulder, “So… you’re walking?”
Jessica hesitated. Walking home was not appealing at all, and as much as Jessica hated it, being on a bike cleared her head in ways that nothing else could. Besides, her thoughts piped up, Troy already knew where she lived.
Grabbing the helmet without preamble, Jessica pulled it over her head and jumped onto the back of the bike. She didn’t bother wrapping her arms around his chest, just curled her fingertips into the back of his jacket.
Troy glanced back at her with surprise, “You’ve done this before.”
“Yes, you brought me here.” Jessica couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm from dripping from her voice.
Troy snorted, “Before that.”
Jessica shrugged and flicked down her visor. She didn’t want to meet his gaze any longer and see the questions that were mirrored there. She didn’t want to talk about her ex and how she came to know the back of a bike. She didn’t want to do anything but ride, and forget that this day ever happened.