by J. C. Allen
I didn’t like the idea of just bouncingback from the type of nightmare that had plagued me for so many years. I wanted to suffer through these nightmares so that I could feel obligated to get help. I wanted to scream loudly upon waking so maybe Derek would tell me I should get help since—while he would never say so out loud—it was affecting his sleep.
But, that didn’t happen.
Whenever I woke, there was always a sort of nauseating moment of “Oh, good, still just a dream.” Then it was just a matter of shaking off the post-nightmare anxieties—reminding myself how to breathe, peeling myself off the sweat-soaked sheets, and waiting for my heartrate to return to something resembling normal—and, a cup of coffee later, I could almost forget that I’d had it in the first place. Almost.
I looked at the clock and saw that it was about 7 a.m. I didn’t ever remember falling asleep, and it must’ve been a true testament to Derek’s stealthy abilities that I never woke up when he returned. Perhaps I was having a pleasant dream at that time about Derek, but I doubted it. More likely than not, I was in that limbo state of too tired to be aware of what was going on, but not tired enough to dream.
I put my head back on the pillow, trying to go back to sleep, but it did little good. On the one hand, I wasn’t sure if I’d gotten eight hours—not that I could really ever count on that luxury—and on the other, I had a terrifying fear of nightmares so bad that they would ruin the day ahead for me. It was a real lose-lose situation.
I tried to think of times of when I didn’t have those nightmares, and truth be told, they really did seem random. It wasn’t like Derek sleeping next to me gave me the chance to sleep in peace, nor did having an orgasm before bed do the trick. It was just… I hated to say it, but it really did seem up to fate.
I didn’t want to wake Derek, but I needed someone to talk to. I grabbed my phone and texted Tara. “Breakfast? :-)” It was simple, and frankly, I had no expectations of her replying. Just the act of trying to make plans helped.
But to my surprise, despite the early hour, she began writing back to me as I saw the chat bubble pop up.
“LOL more like late dinner 4 me. But sure. Lets do it. Carls Cafe?”
The location wasn’t the greatest, not because it was in a bad part of town, but because it was just close enough to walk—which ran the risk of drawing eyes I didn’t care to have.
But, at this early in the morning, I doubted anyone would be pulling anything. It was the evening and the night that most worried me, with the Black Falcons able to blend into the darkness of the night sky. In the morning, though, with the sun rising and overshadowing us? I wouldn’t say it was safe, but it was certainly safer.
“Yeah. See you in 30?”
“Sounds good.”
I closed my phone and rubbed my eyes. Funnily enough, now that I wanted to make plans, I was suddenly so tired I didn’t even want to get out of bed. It was like my body said “we’re going to do the opposite of whatever you want.”
Well, eventually, I’d make it so tired it wouldn’t have the energy to produce a nightmare. Then it could do whatever it wanted.
I tried to get out of bed as quietly as I could, trying to grab casual attire that would not reveal my features so easily. I also made it a point to throw on sneakers in case I had to run, something that I prayed wouldn’t be necessary but was necessary to plan for all the same.
And then I heard Derek wake.
“Babe?”
Shit.
“Just go to sleep, baby, I’m going to meet Tara for an early breakfast.”
“Now?” he grumbled, stealing a look at the clock. “I just got back four hours ago.”
“I know, and I’m glad you were quiet,” I said, deciding it was better than saying I wish he had woken me from the nightmare where he almost killed himself before killing me. “But I had a bad dream. I asked Tara to meet me and we already made plans. I’ll be safe, I promise.”
Derek let out a long sigh before throwing himself dramatically against the bed.
“Is this punishment again for being out so late?” he said with a hoarse chuckle. “I swear I’ll be good from now on.”
“Hah, no, nothing like that,” I said. “You were a good boy last night, and when I get back from the cafe, I promise to reward you for your good behavior.”
“Promise?”
In a state of mid-dress, with just my underwear, socks, and a t-shirt on, I went over and kissed him.
“Does that answer your question?”
“I suppose,” he said.
He fell quiet for a bit as I continued to get dressed. I knew exactly what was going on over there—he was losing himself in his thoughts, assuming the worst. I thought of asking him about what had happened last night, thinking that might get him out of his head, but then it occurred to me that and his darkest thoughts might be too closely connected. So, unable to think of anything better, I just kept getting dressed in silence, humming to myself to fill the air.
“Promise you’ll be safe?” Derek said, again.
I appreciated his concern, even if it was bordering on being overbearing. I mean, who wouldn’t be a little bit much in these circumstances?
“I promise, okay?” I said, turning towards him and giving him another kiss. “We are meeting at the café down the street from here. What could happen?”
I knew right away that was a stupid question. I had asked it to comfort him, but I suspected that it only got him more frazzled.
“In our world?” he challenged, his eyebrow raised quizzically and his mouth pulled downward in a frown. “I’d say it’s safe to say a lot could happen.”
“Okay, that’s fair,” I said, conceding the point. “But I won’t be alone, and we arejust meeting at a café. We’ll be in public view.”
“Okay,” he said, seeming to calm down. At least, externally, he was. “I’ll be here, so if you need anything, just call, okay?”
“I will, I promise,” I said, leaning in and kissing him.
He kissed me back. Then he tried to pull me into him, but I had to pull back.
“You said I wasn’t being punished!”
That drew a laugh from me, but not an assent to continue.
“I made plans for 7:30 sharp, I’m sorry,” I said. “Otherwise, yes, I’d be all over you. But I promise when I come back from breakfast, I’m going down on you.”
“Even if I’m asleep?”
“Especially if you’re asleep.”
He smiled that wicked grin I so loved, and I moved in to kiss him.
“Love you babe,” I said.
“Love you too.”
Before things got too carried away because I lingered, I pulled back and made my way down the hall towards the elevator. My thoughts danced around the various worst-case scenarios of the morning, but I did my best to ignore them, instead trying to focus on the conversations that Tara and I would have and the morning wakeup call I would give Derek.
“Hey, babe?”
I turned with some surprise to see him approaching me naked, his cock rigid… and a knife in his hand?
“Is this some kinky foreplay idea you have?” I said. “We should probably talk about this before—”
“No, no, no,” he said, a sheepish smile on his face. “Much as I would like to get inside you—without this in my hand, mind you—this erection you see is mostly just the result of me being indescribably attracted to you. This, however.”
He held out the knife, retracted it, and then pulled it out again. This was no pocketknife, however—this was much longer and sharper, not quite a steak knife, but definitely something that could penetrate skin if need be. It was undoubtedly a weapon.
“This is to protect you.”
“A knife? I have the handgun Roost gave me, isn’t that enough?” I asked, glancing up at how concerned he was.
But to my surprise, he didn’t seem fazed at all by what I said.
“Guns can attract attention, run out of ammo, and require you to have preci
se aim. A knife is a great melee weapon and can be much more subtle, plus you can use it unlimited times. I’m not saying I hope you use this, but… use this if you think you can handle it.”
Should I cancel with Tara?
I’d seen him this concerned only a handful of times, and if Falcon’s numbers were growing, maybe it was better. I already felt a bit uncomfortable with the idea of a gun in my purse, and now I was adding a knife? A knife that could fit into my shorts’ pockets, and yet kill a man with a well-placed stab?
I did know a bit more self-defense than before, it was true, but I didn’t want to invite the need to use that.
Before I could change my mind, though, Derek had slid the pocket knife into my hand and pushed me onto the elevator as the doors opened.
“Try and have a good time,” Derek said, smiling. “You’ll be safe. It’s just in case the one percent worst-case scenario happens.”
“Alright, I will,” I said, smiling back. “I love you, Derek.”
“I love you, too,” he said.
“And put some pants on!” I shouted as the elevator doors shut, drawing laughter through the metal doors.
The laughter was nice, but I really needed to calm myself. I glanced down at the pocket knife still in my hand and moved my thumb, pressing the release on the blade and watched as the sharp blade swung out. I was surprised at how fast it was and nearly dropped it. Taking a deep breath, I slid the blade carefully back into place and once I was sure it was secured, I slid it into my pocket.
“Well, Eve, you once hated the idea of carrying any kind of concealed weapons, now you’re toting a knife and a gun,” I whispered to myself. “Times have really changed, haven’t they?”
At least as far as days to go out, I had chosen a beautiful morning. It was the last of summer, and today was the first day I was actually noticing the arrival of fall. I started to walk down the street, headed towards Carl’s Café. I felt free, relaxed, and comfortable.
And then I started to feel followed.
I moved my hand towards my pocket, surprised to feel how comforted I felt just from having the knife on me. I made a quick motion, pretending that I needed to check my purse, and saw three guys walking a few paces back. Shit. Falcons, probably. They don’t look friendly, that’s for sure.
I narrowed my eyes, turning to the left and heading down a different side road. I cursed as I saw how quiet the street I’d turned onto was and wondered if the guys were still following. Deciding I didn’t want to be ambushed, I slid into a small opening between the buildings, only big enough for one person and waited.
Within seconds the guys were walking by, a look of confusion on the three’s faces. After the third had moved away from my view, I slid out and watched as the three conversed amongst themselves.
“Are we sure we saw her?”
“No, she was a ghost. Of course we saw her, dipshit. She couldn’t have gone far.”
“What if we took a wrong turn? Let’s keep moving.”
The tallest one sighed.
“I should’ve brought Jeff and Terry over.”
“Hey, you wanted—”
“Stop talking and find the whore.”
With that, the three moved out. I must have waited a good five minutes before I moved out on the street, keeping my hand in my purse at all times. I kept looking around me, careful to see if they followed me, but I never saw them again.
That didn’t mean, however, that the stalking was done.
I managed to get to Carl’s Cafe and met Tara inside, but she must have picked up on me being a frazzled mess, because she hugged me unusually tight when she saw me.
“You OK, girl?”
“I was followed here,” I said. “Falcons. I don’t doubt it.”
“Should we call Derek and Roost?”
I bit my lip. Derek was likely sleeping now, and while I would need his presence when we left—a ride never hurt—at this point, we were in too public an area to be attacked.
This, at least, is what I wanted to believe. I didn’t have anything to the contrary yet—no sign of the Black Falcons came my way, and I had never known them to execute a public strike—but times were changing, right? And what better way to make a point than to stage a public kidnapping?
That’s what the gun and knife are for, Eve.
“We will when we finish,” I said.
“OK, if you say so. I, personally, think we should go find them and kick their ass.”
“What?!?” I said, just as the waiter came by. “Hi, we need two milks, no coffees, and just your standard breakfast plate please.”
The waiter looked at us, confused, but I wanted Tara occupied by food and not awoken by coffee or battle. The calmer I got her, the better.
“Alright… OK then, I’ll get that in,” the waiter said, quickly turning back.
“I don’t mean right now,” Tara said with a laugh.
“Even still, are you crazy?”
“Oh, heavens, Eve, do we need to rewind the VCR and replay the conversation from yesterday?”
I sighed. No, no we did not. I’d come to this diner in the hopes of relaxing a bit, of not having to deal with as much motorcycle club stress as before, but I was clearly failing if I rehashed this conversation.
“Just promise me you won’t do anything without the support of the Saviors.”
“Mmm… maybe,” Tara said, which wasn’t a good enough answer, but for the sake of having a relatively peaceful breakfast, I let it go.
But truth be told, over the next twenty minutes, I had no such luck. Our food came quickly, but I found I didn’t have much of an appetite. Tara seemed too tired to engage in any real conversation. This meant I had to have a conversation with myself and my head, which always worked out well.
By the time I put down a credit card to pay for the meal—which Derek had nicely provided a hefty sum on—I was exhausted from the stress I had given myself. I pulled out my phone, watching Tara sheepishly eat her toast, and texted Derek.
“Was followed to shop. Can you grab me?”
I put down the phone and smiled at Tara as she finished. The waiter came, ran my credit card, and brought it back.
“You promise me you’re gonna be OK, girl,” Tara said with a smile. “You have me worried.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, checking my phone and frowning upon realizing Derek hadn’t replied. “I’ll have Derek come and pick me up.”
“You sure? Don’t be lying to me now. I don’t need you being stressed over here.”
“Tara, I’m fine,” I said, but my tone clearly didn’t match it. “I just need to be home. But I think for the next little bit, we need to make sure we only eat at Derek’s or Matty’s house.”
“OK,” she said, yawning. “I’m gonna head out then. You sure—”
“Yes, Tara,” I said with a sigh. “Sorry. I just need space.”
“Understood,” Tara said, rising, not quite in a huff but certainly not pleased with herself.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, I swear,” Tara said. “You’re right, though. Only at the boy’s places. Be safe, OK?”
Tara came over, embraced me tightly, and left. I watched her take a left turn out of the restaurant, away from the direction of Derek’s place. I watched closely for a group of three men to suddenly veer left and move with purpose…
But nothing ever appeared.
I guess they gave up. Maybe I was just overly paranoid. I should’ve known that the Falcons don’t have the manpower to watch us all the time.
I rose, thanked the waiter as I headed out, and took a right. Just because, however, I realized my actions may have been paranoid didn’t mean I wasn’t going to be safe. I put my hand by my purse, ready and prepared to take action if need be.
And then I saw them coming right at me.
They walked casually and were about a block away, walking as if they were three gentlemen on their way into the office, but I knew full well what was going on. If I kept w
alking, they were going to grab me and lead me somewhere. If I turned around, I’d have my back to them, and they’d just follow me wherever I went.
But, to my left was the road, and the morning traffic made it impossible for me to cross safely. To my right was a side road that had multiple alleyways. I’d eluded them once this way—perhaps I could do it again.
And so, just when they looked the other way, I took a sharp turn right.
Right into an alleyway without any escape.
“You’re a hard little whore to catch.”
I turned around to see one of the men, a balding guy with a missing tooth, approaching with an evil grin. I took a step back and immediately cursed myself for making such a move. I might have been able to retrace my steps before, but now there was no getting around the three men.
“But all whores pop up eventually, they’re too desperate to suck dick,” another one sneered.
“Fuck you,” I growled, trying to find my positioning. I didn’t want to pull out my knife or gun until I absolutely had to—I didn’t need Falcon knowing I was armed and dangerous until the last second. “If you’re smart, you’ll all run.”
The three men looked at each other, looked at me, and gave mocking laughter.
“Oh, that’s rich! The whore got all talkative when she went to the Saviors! Isn’t that amazing?”
“You think I’m fucking around?” I said. “Turn around, get out of here, and you won’t get your asses beat by the Saviors.”
“Ohhhhh,” they all said, like teenagers who had heard a weak threat from the middle school nerd. “What’s he gonna do, drown us in his tears?”
More snickering and laughter came. It occurred to me how much this resembled high school and how much I fucking despised it even more now. At least now, I had weapons to defend myself with, and with Derek’s connections, I could avoid serious jail time.
“Last warning,” I said, and inside, I thought, Derek, now would be a real good time to check your messages. You better wake the fuck up.