by Beth Flynn
I pasted on a smile and said, "I'm sure you're right."
Then her eyes got very serious. “You cannot tell Christian what I just told you,” she pleaded.
I was surprised by her request, and was going to ask her why when she continued, “This is what the life is like, Mimi. More than likely, Christian asked Joe to cover for him and Joe forgot to tell me. If it gets back to your husband that I slipped, even if it was accidental, it could be bad for Joe and me. The guys don’t betray each other’s confidences.”
I swallowed back my reply.
“Please?” Her eyes looked watery when she added, “Like I said, he probably has a reason, but if you decide to confront him, I’m begging you to come up with another way you could’ve found out. Don’t bring me and Joe into it. Please, Mimi.”
I assured her that I had no intention of dragging her and Joe into my marriage.
In an attempt to change the subject, she nudged me and nodded toward a table a few down from us. My uncle Blue was talking to a few men. He made eye contact with me, raised his beer and nodded. I gave him a small smile, and prayed he didn't come over to the table. I didn't feel like making small talk with a man I'd believed to be my biological uncle for the first half of my life, and hadn’t seen since Tommy’s funeral over six years ago. Not that I'd ever had an issue with Blue. I just wasn't in the mood.
"People are talking, Mimi," Debbie said.
I looked over at her. "About?"
"About Blue chasing his dick all the way over to Louisiana after some piece."
She could only be talking about my mother's twin sister, Jodi.
"So?" I asked, showing only mild interest, while focusing on my beer bottle.
"Soooo," she said with an exaggerated drawl. "Everyone has been saying for a while now that he might step down. I can't believe you haven't heard this already. Talk is that Christian might be in line to take his place."
I snapped my head up, and narrowed my eyes at her.
"Especially since his parole has been revoked." She twirled her hair, looking nonchalant as she glanced at the pool table where Christian was bent over, getting ready to make a shot. "He has nothing to stop him from being part of the gang anymore."
I let her words sink in. I hadn’t once thought about Christian joining the gang again. But the more I looked around me, the more I saw how the crowd had changed since we first started coming to The Alibi. I could see why she’d made the assumption.
"You want that, right?" Debbie's question broke through my thoughts.
"Want what?" I asked.
"For Christian to step up as prez?"
I didn't get to answer her because Christian, Joe, Isaac Brooks, and two men I'd never seen walked over and joined us. After sitting in the chair to my left, Christian draped his right arm around me and said, "Mimi, this is Nigel. He’s from down under." He hesitated and shook his head. Gesturing with his beer toward the other guy, he added, "Can't remember your name, dude."
The man said his name, but I was only half listening and didn't catch it.
"Down under?" I peeked around my husband to get a better look.
There was a round of laughter and Isaac piped up, "Yeah, we got an Aussie in our midst and it's a good thing he has that accent or he'd never get laid. I've stood next to him in the john and his pecker gives new meaning to the word wee.
"Why are ya sussing out my cock? If you don't shut your mouth, I'll smack you in the fucking head with it." Nigel's accent was strong and I could see why women would find it appealing.
I listened to the banter, and tried not to let Debbie's earlier revelation about Christian's unknown whereabouts bother me.
The next thirty minutes passed uneventfully, until it was obvious that Nigel had reached his alcohol limit. Up until that point the conversations had been jovial, but his comments started to take on an angry edge. Thinking to put him in his place, Debbie jokingly said, "Nigel, you need to show some respect. You don't want to say something to offend Christian. He might be your new boss if the rumors are true."
Nigel, who sat next to Christian, leaned sideways in his chair and looked Christian up and down, saying, "So I heard. I wanna apply for the job me self."
"I didn't know Blue was taking applications," Isaac said with a laugh.
I was watching Christian, trying to gauge if he had any reaction to the rumor when Nigel's next words sent a chill up my spine.
"Seems to me like the only fuckin' thing someone needs to do to be considered for prez is stick their cock in the infamous Grizz's long-lost daughter."
I'd witnessed my father attack Christian at the rental house. I'd watched Slade assault Christian at his parents’ house. Other than a quick punch to Sal's jaw at Chicky's, I'd yet to see my husband make the first move.
What happened next could best be described as surreal. I'd never seen a human being move so swiftly. With an animalistic roar and terrifying speed, Christian stood and pulled Nigel up with him. He slammed him hard on our table. Bottles, drinks, and plates flew everywhere. Nigel had no time to react or defend himself as my husband expertly used his fists to inflict a punishment that was barbaric. Christian could've knocked Nigel out in one hit, but he didn't do that. He deliberately aimed where he could do the most damage without giving him the benefit of unconsciousness. He wanted Nigel to feel each blow. I thought I heard bones breaking and wondered if it was Christian’s hands, or Nigel’s ribs and face.
Joe and Isaac immediately jumped up from the table, but didn't try to pull Christian off Nigel. Nigel's nameless friend stood to the side, mouth agape. I looked around to see if anyone was going to intervene, and that's when I was mortified to discover that nobody cared. Some of them looked over, but went back to their drinks. A few of the women hooted and hollered. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed one gal, who'd been cheering on the fight, get grabbed by her hair and pulled back to her seat with a reprimand from her man to "Shut the fuck up."
My eyes pleaded with Isaac and Joe to intervene, to stop Christian before he did further damage. They both deliberately looked away from me.
I watched in shock as Christian reached into his back pocket and pulled out a switchblade. He opened it and held it to Nigel's neck.
"Apologize to my wife," Christian ordered, his voice low and menacing.
"Sorry. I'm sorry." Nigel's voice came out garbled. It was obvious he was choking on his own blood.
Christian closed the blade, returned it to his pocket, and started punching him again.
That's when I felt him at my side. I looked up and saw Blue. He didn't look down at me, but after exchanging a look with Isaac that I couldn’t decipher, said one word. "Enough."
It took Joe, Isaac, and two other men to pull Christian off Nigel, and by then, he had lost consciousness. I prayed he wasn't dead.
Blue nodded to the other two men and to Nigel's limp body draped backwards over our table. "Get him out of here."
He looked at my husband who was breathing heavily, and still on an adrenaline high.
"He disrespected Mimi," Christian said, his tone fierce, eyes still blazing.
"What do you want done with him?" Blue asked.
Wait. What? What else needed to be done? If anything, the man needed to be taken to a hospital.
Christian didn't answer right away and Blue asked another question. "Does Nigel need to take a trip?"
I knew what that term meant. A trip meant Nigel wouldn’t be returning. Ever.
That's when I realized to my horror that a man's life was hanging in the balance. A simple decision made by my husband and enforced by Blue could make a human being disappear forever.
My world felt like it was crashing down on me and I started to feel dizzy.
Since moving to Florida I'd been harassed and stalked by Autumn. I'd been called a demon seed and a sinner by Winifred Truncle. I'd come face-to-face with the man who tried to rape me when I was a teenager. And Christian had lied to me about his whereabouts a few nights before. I'd been so c
aught up in the celebrity of the biker world, I hadn't seen what the lifestyle entailed. And now, a man's life was going to be determined by either a yes or no from my husband.
As the vertigo retreated I spun around and headed for the exit, vowing never to set foot in The Alibi again.
Chapter 54
Fort Lauderdale, Florida 2007
“It’s the lifestyle our parents lived, Mimi. And I can assure you both of our mothers saw worse. Tell her, Mom,” Christian said to his mother.
It was two nights later, and we’d purposely invited Christian’s parents to dinner at our home sans Daisy and Abby.
The past two days had been fraught with unspoken tension between me and Christian. When he tried to explain what I’d seen had been mild compared to what happened at other biker bars I’d refused to listen, insisting that he could’ve done anything other than almost kill Nigel for the slight. My comment angered him.
“What he said was more than a slight, Mimi,” he growled. “Saying something derogatory about you was the worst thing he could’ve done. Even if I hadn’t heard it, but it had gotten back to me, I would’ve done the same thing.”
I countered with, “Are you sure it wasn’t you who was slighted?”
“You think I care what he thinks about me being considered as prez? Which is a bullshit rumor by the way. I don’t even know who started it.”
I’d been terribly upset by what I’d seen, but I’d understood Christian’s explanation. The truth was I'd been dragging my anger out longer than necessary for another reason. Not wanting to betray Debbie’s confidence, I’d been struggling with coming up with how I could’ve known about Christian not being at Joe’s that night. I’d wanted to confront him, but not at the expense of something coming down on my new friend and her boyfriend. I was in a quandary.
Interrupting my thoughts, Aunt Christy sternly replied to Christian, “Our old lifestyles have nothing to do with today or your marriage." She stared at his battered knuckles as she passed the peas to Uncle Anthony. “Personally, I think you should step back from The Alibi. Make some new friends. Besides, if you’re telling me that since you two started hanging there the riff-raff has been showing up more regularly, it’s all the more reason to pull back. You can certainly find another place where you can drink beer, play pool, and eat wings that doesn’t involve a biker club.”
“That won’t be a problem,” I countered. “I don’t care if I never step foot in that place again.” I went on to tell them about the man who’d violently grabbed his girlfriend by the hair.
“I’m surprised you haven’t seen more of that, Mimi,” Uncle Anthony told me. “It’s very common in that setting for the men to abuse their women. Even share them with other men. You, your mother, Christy, and very few others are rare exceptions.”
I knew he was right based on some of my mother’s stories.
Aunt Christy set her fork down. “What about that nice guy you work with, Christian? What was his name? The one who you stopped hanging with because his wife tried to fix you up with her girlfriends.”
I glanced over at Christian who rolled his eyes. “Glen,” he said before reaching for his glass. “He’s cool. So is Susan, but I didn't like when she tried to set me up. They invited me out to eat twice after I got paroled, and both times Susan brought one of her friends along.”
“I’m sure she only expected you to enjoy their company and a meal with them, Christian,” Aunty Christy said with a slightly sarcastic tone. “I doubt you were required to propose.”
I brought my napkin to my lips as I tried to stifle a smile. God help the woman who’d been set up on a blind date with my husband. He probably treated her so miserably she developed a complex.
“Glen and Susan might be a good suggestion though, Mom. They’re a nice couple, and have nothing to do with bikers. However, they do ride.” Christian looked thoughtful for a moment. “And Glen and I have a lot in common. We both prefer working on bikes more than cars.” Then he looked at me and said, “You’d like his wife, Mimi.”
"Did you bring him along to Joe's the other night?" I stabbed a piece of chicken with my fork and without looking at Christian, I asked, "You know, when you went to his house to work on his bike?"
My eyes cut to Christian’s. "Nah. It wasn't a big job."
We’d cleaned up after dinner and I was carrying a tray of coffee with lemon cake into the living room when I heard Aunt Christy ask, “What is that?”
I looked where she was pointing and broke out in a wide grin. “That’s the white queen we’re using until we can find the one we think Abby hid,” I laughed. I looked over at the chess set that was up on a shelf. I’d gotten in the habit of keeping it out of Abby’s reach, but she must’ve snuck the queen away before that and I hadn’t noticed until Christian and I recently started a game.
“Is that the…?” she started to ask.
“The candlestick from Clue? Yes, it is.” Daisy had brought the board game with her during one of her visits and left it.
We made small talk while we ate our cake and drank our coffee.
"Are you two still considering buying the house next door?" Aunt Christy asked.
She was referring to the place next to ours that had been vacant and for sale since before we’d moved in. I'd told Christian that maybe we should look at it. I'd offered to make an appointment with the realtor one Saturday when Christian dragged me out our back door and over to the empty home. I looked around nervously as he easily broke into one of the rear sliders and ushered me inside.
"I don't know why they bother to lock it. Abby could've broken in," he'd grumbled before closing the door behind me.
We'd walked around inside, our voices and footsteps echoing off the cool tile floors. The only room that was carpeted was the living room. We sat down and compared it to the place we were renting. At some point, the conversation turned toward the hopes and dreams we had for the future. We must've sat there cross-legged on the carpet for an hour. That was a month ago. Before my husband decided he could lie to me.
I'd obviously taken too long to reply because I heard Christian tell his mother, "No. It was a nice house, but Mimi said it had a smell. It had been too lived-in or something like that."
"A smell?" Aunt Christy asked.
I nodded. "It was weird. I thought maybe it was the carpet because you know how they can carry odors." I shook my head. "But we sat on it and it was new." I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. It smelled kind of like somebody was still living there, which obviously no one is."
"You have to go with your instinct," Aunt Christy said before taking another bite of cake.
Yeah, my mind answered. Like the instinct that says maybe I won't be buying a house with Christian after all. The thought made my heart ache.
My expression must've hinted at my melancholy, and Aunt Christy noticed because she spun the subject back to The Alibi, and more specifically, Blue.
“Hmm,” she said with a bit of a smug attitude, “what made Blue decide to grace The Alibi with his presence? I thought you told me he hangs at his restaurant, or The Red Crab or the HVAC headquarters?”
Christian shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno. Maybe he’s been there when Mimi and I weren’t around and decided he liked it.”
“Maybe The Ghost told him to go there,” she replied in a mock spooky voice.
"The Ghost that might not even be real," Christian replied. "Doesn't matter though. Blue's okay."
“Whatever.” Aunt Christy rolled her eyes, waving her coffee mug toward Christian and me. “Ghost, no ghost, I’m glad you two saw the light before you got sucked in.”
I couldn’t have agreed with her more, but I still wasn't certain where Christian stood on the subject. I noticed that his parents eyed him, waiting for him to say something, and when he didn't, I changed the subject.
The conversation turned to Abby and how much Christian and I wanted her to live with us. Even though Aunt Christy would continue to watch Abby during the weekdays
when I worked, and the occasional evening when we wanted to go out, it wouldn't be the same as having their granddaughter living under their roof. Although saddened by the prospect, Christian’s parents understood. After discussing it a little more we all agreed that it still might be too soon, and that we should probably consult an attorney to see if it had the potential to stir anything up with Autumn.
I pray I won’t be consulting an attorney for another reason, I silently mused.
We brought up Thanksgiving and Christmas and how my parents wanted us to visit for at least one of those holidays. And of course, we wanted to take Abby with us. I could see by Aunt Christy’s expression that she wasn’t keen on the idea, but she understood.
Christian's parents left. I was cleaning up the last of the dessert dishes when he came up behind me. Before wrapping his arms around my waist, he gently pulled my hair off the back of my neck so he could place tender kisses there. I automatically stiffened, as visions of him kissing another woman in the same manner floated around in my brain.
"You haven't been yourself for a couple days, Mimi. What's wrong?” he whispered.
"Nothing," I said a little too quickly. I turned off the water and stepped out of his embrace.
"You're not being honest." He was so close behind me I could almost feel his breath at my ear as I approached the open doorway that connected the kitchen to our tiny dining room.
I spun around and crossed my arms in front of me. "Think hard before you accuse me of being dishonest. Are you sure you want to do that?"
His eyes narrowed. "What's this all about?"
I looked around the room, avoiding his gaze. I'd backed myself into a corner. There was no way I could confront him about the other night without betraying Debbie. I looked back at my husband and made the difficult decision that my marriage was more important than my friendship.
"If I tell you something, do you promise me that you won't ask me where I heard it?"
He nodded.
"No." I shook my head. "I need more than that from you, Christian. You have to promise me, like all the promises you made at the altar, that you won't pick at this or retaliate."