by Ryan Michele
I hold up my phone and get chin lifts from several brothers. I’m not sure I can take much more bad news at the moment. Here’s to hoping this is good.
Because right now, all we have left is hope and heartbreak.
14
Carsyn/Ava
“Is there anything else I can get’cha?” My southern drawl is almost too much for this place, but the customers leave me big tips and that’s what I care about.
Nashville, Tennessee.
My new home.
“Can I get some more sweet tea please?” The blonde woman smiles at me as she ruffles her daughter’s hair. The little girl rolls her eyes, but doesn’t say anything like this is an everyday thing. She looks just like her momma, a carbon copy. While it’s beautiful to see for others, it’s not for me. Kids, that is, have never been in the plan for me. Hell, this here, waiting on people has never been the plan. Until it was…
“Absolutely, I’ll be right back.”
Darting off, I check on a few more tables, bring the water, and make my way to the back.
“Would you smile,” Sondra, one of the other waitresses says, nudging me with her shoulder. I give her what she wants, the one that’s saved my ass more than once. “Now that’s gonna make you money.”
“Right.” My eyes drift down to her girls. “And if your shirts get any smaller, the customers will be eatin’ your tits.”
She rolls her eyes, just like the child did earlier, and pushes her boobs up to the point part of her nip shows. “These things help me live. I got ‘em, and I’m usin’ ‘em.”
My tits are a little bigger than hers, but I make sure that mine are covered and only a small portion of the V shows any cleavage. After so many years of having every part of my body on display for everyone around me, I like having shirts that really fit and take full advantage of it. It may mean smaller tips, but for this I don’t care. I’ll just work harder to make them up because if it means I get to keep part of me to myself—I’m doing it.
“Whatever you need ta do.”
“Hey, what’re ya doin’ after work. You wanna go grab a beer?”
Sondra asks me this every night we’ve worked together in the past three weeks. I’ve went with her a couple times, but it’s hard on me. “Not tonight.”
Her hand goes to her hip that jets out. “You not like me?”
“Of course, I do. You know I’m not a big partier. I’ll go some other time.”
Large crowds freak me out, but I suck it up for my job because it pays the bills. It doesn’t mean that my eyes aren’t all over the place all the damn time. On my off time, I don’t want to be around a mass of people if I can help it. I like to sit in my space, just be and know I’m safe. It calms me to feel like there is a place all my own where no one can hurt me.
Going with Sondra is difficult because she likes to be the center of attention with everyone’s eyes on her. If they are on her then they are on me, and it makes me very uncomfortable since I want to be invisible.
I did try, which is a huge step for me.
“Girl, we need to get you out more.”
I laugh it off going to the next table, taking orders and bringing drinks. One thing about Nashville is this place is never slow. We’re always slammed, and it’s mostly tourists who are out to spend money on vacation. I’ll gladly be the taker of said money.
The night goes by fast and furious. By the time I make it back to my place, my feet ache to the point of wanting to chop them off to find relief. Even after putting on my tennis shoes to make the seven-block hike back, they are on fire. A car is not in my best interests right now, and cabbing it every day is not the way I want to spend my hard-earned money. Only buy necessities and saving the rest is the only goal I have right now, besides staying safe from Buck.
Locking the door behind me then securing the chain, I toss my purse and apron on the bed. Immediately, I go to the back corner of the room and peel up the old as hell carpet. A puff of dirt or something comes up, and I cough it away swishing my hand back and forth. One would think the amount of times it’s been pulled up there’d be no more dirt, but you’d be wrong. Pulling up the floorboard, I reach down and pull out my backpack.
It’s the same one that Nox left me all those months ago and my prized possession. Opening it, the metal box that I took from Buck’s closet is there along with money, the gun, which I pull out, and the paperwork I need for a new life. It’s not much, but it’s mine. Sucking in a deep breath of relief it’s still there, I put it all back including my tips from the night, except for the gun, and cover it up with the carpet.
The metal box taunts me. I’ve opened it a few times, but shut it just as fast. There’s a fear of what is on the papers, and I have no idea where it comes from. It’s this little tingle in the back of my neck that says—don’t open it. At least not yet.
The room isn’t the best by a long shot. The carpet is some kind of flower pattern from the seventies and the walls look yellow, but I’m pretty sure it’s from someone smoking instead of paint. The queen-sized bed is clean and comfortable and my meager things fit in the dresser. There’s a small refrigerator, a microwave, and a television—everything a girl could ask for. Oh, and a clean bathroom.
Everything in the place is old as hell, but I rent it for a week at a time; it’s close to work, and the door is a heavy metal. Everything I need in one place. It’s mine, and it’s nice holding onto something that is only yours. It’s almost like a sense of power to know that you’re surviving. Strange, but true.
Nashville wasn’t my first destination after leaving South Carolina. I tried Dyersburg, Tennessee first, but it didn’t go well.
My job as a waitress was good and I worked with a woman named Chelsea, but Chelsea is connected to the Vipers Creed MC. It wasn’t the link that freaked me out; it’s what one of them said while I walked by their table.
“Another MC in our territory is a slap in the fuckin’ face,” a very large bald man said, who Chelsea says is her old man, Stiff. He’s a mountain of a man, and one look sent chills down my spine.
Another MC. There’s another MC around Dryersburg. Fuck. Is it Buck? Panic fills me, and my pulse picks up. Everyone has been kind here. I won’t drag them into my mess either. Vipers Creed are in control, and everyone knows it. The only reason another club would come here… is for me.
“Finish up eatin’ and let’s hit the fuckin’ road,” a man Chelsea called Spook says as the fear races through me. It could be him. He could find me. Finding my breaths, I move to the back of the diner, grab my bag, and dart out the door without ever looking back.
It’s what led me to Nashville, moving to the center of the state. My thought was if I needed to, I could go up to Kentucky. Not that I knew anything about Kentucky.
Setting the gun on the bedside table, I strip off my work clothes and hop in the shower setting the gun on the sink. The spray is cold as hell, and it usually takes a good five minutes of running before it actually gets luke-warm. Every time I shower a small part of my past washes down the drain, or at least, I imagine it does. Sometimes, I wish that staying in here twenty-four hours a day would help that process, but also know that’s not going to happen.
The past is part of you, but it doesn’t define you. At least that’s what Dr. Phil said on his show once, and it fits me.
After showering and getting myself together, I lay on the bed and flip through the channels on the television watching the screen change colors in a flash. Another good thing is the place has cable. There’s normally always something on I can watch, and I’m free to do just that. It’s what I spend a lot of my time on, that and practicing what Gunny taught me.
Gunny and Sharon are absolutely the best people on the planet. Nox was true to his word, only making me trust him all the more. Gunny took me under his wing, taught me how to fight, shoot a gun, and how to strip away a weapon from anyone—even him. It took me a bit to get the hang of the gun; the kickback was something else, and I had bruises from the shot
gun from not holding it correctly when Gunny showed me how to. Getting flustered with a gun is not something anyone should do.
Once I got the hang of it the targets got easier and easier. By the time it was time for me to leave, I was able to hit five of the six shots dead center on the target. Gunny didn’t just teach me to shoot, though. No, he had me take apart the gun, clean it, and put it back together. The one on my counter has seen many cleanings and reconstructions.
Gunny is a big old papa bear. He’s rough on the outside, but inside he has a heart of gold.
That’s why when it was my turn to punch or go after him, I had a really hard time with it. Not only is hitting a bit of a trigger for me, doing it to someone else is a tough pill to swallow. Gunny would give me scenarios that I played out in my mind, putting me in positions where I’d have to defend myself.
Then he repeated that over and over again showing me moves I didn’t know I was capable of.
Sharon. God love Sharon. Several nights I cried, unable to hold it in. She’d come in and hold me, allowing me a safe place to fall when my heart couldn’t take any more. She is so damn strong and confident. She told me there was a time that wasn’t her and showed me how to gain a bit of what she did. The way she loves Gunny but also doesn’t put up with his shit either reminded me of my mother. My mother didn’t put up with anything she didn’t like or believe in. Sharon is the exact same. Having that similarity made me feel more at home than I probably should have.
Nox was right about her money skills too. Balancing a checkbook is something that most people know how to do, but not me. Good thing I’m a quick study because she moves fast in her teachings, saying Gotta save and know what you’re spendin’. She taught me so much for me to apply to this new life.
Leaving South Carolina was hard, almost as hard as watching Nox leave. Being in their home brought on a sense of utter security and comfort. They grew on me in such a short time that their lives became my top priority. I had to protect them—even if it was from myself.
Just like I had to protect Nox and let him go.
That man has filtered through every thought I’ve had since the moment his car left to head back to Sumner. I wanted to go with him and be by his side, wake up every morning to him next to me. But it’s not safe. It wasn’t then and isn’t now. I have to stay as far away from him and Sumner as possible.
I may not do much in this life, but protecting those who stuck their neck out for me is a priority. Even if it means losing them.
Danger.
It’s everywhere in life, but there was no way I’d bring it to Gunny and Sharon’s home, and that was the direction my staying there was taking. They knew about the calls where whoever was on the other end would hang up. It shocked me to the core, and I couldn’t let anything happen to them. I told them that I’d call once I got settled, but I haven’t. I couldn’t. Them not knowing is better for everyone.
Nox will probably be angry with me if he finds out, knowing he wanted me to tell Gunny and Sharon where I was, but I can’t.
Or maybe not, considering I didn’t hear a word from him after he left; he won’t be mad. There was a small sliver of hope thinking that maybe, just maybe, he’d call me.
But that was squashed, and it killed me inside. Our paths won’t be crossing again, and that seriously sucks because I miss him more than I should.
On the good side, I like my job and the people I work with. It’s a good life, and I’m feeling so much better on the inside. Don’t get me wrong, I have a long way to go, but it’s better and that’s all I can ask for. If I keep my head down, do what I’m supposed to do, I’ll be able to carve out a sliver of happy like Nox asked. Right? That damn hope starts to bloom in my chest once again.
A loud banging comes to the door, and I jump from the bed and grab the gun, holding it steady. Shoot first, ask questions later—that’s what Gunny taught me, and I like that motto.
“Delivery!” a male voice booms through the door. Looking out of the peephole confirms it’s a man with what looks like a pizza delivery bag. He bangs again, but I say nothing. Sure, he might be able to hear my television going, but that doesn’t mean I have to answer the door. I didn’t order anything, and I’m not answering. He can bang until the cows come home, but opening that door isn’t an option.
My pulse races as flashes of some of the dreams I’ve had about Buck come back to haunt me. It’s just a pizza guy. It’s just a pizza guy. But what if it’s not? What if it’s a way for me to open the door so they can barge right in? What if it’s someone working for Buck and he’s found me? My legs tremble, but I keep the gun steady knowing if that door opens by itself, I’ll shoot to kill.
I will not go back with Buck. Ever of my own freewill.
Sweat beads down my temples while my stomach twists in a knot. The rush of heat is hard to control as panic sets in. I may not open the door, but that doesn’t mean the man will go away. It’s not like I can call the cops. That’s all I need is a cop to run my new ID and come up with something to get me caught.
Not happening.
“Hey, man!” another male voice says in the distance as I look out of the peephole again. The delivery guy turns from my door and heads down to the right. I release a deep breath and will my heart to slow the hell down.
This is my life. The good, bad, and sometimes ugly. Also, it’s very, very lonely. Even with a new friend, it’s not the one I truly want. One that I’ll never have.
15
Nox
“What’s up?” I greet into the phone, pushing through the doors of the emergency room to out into the parking lot. The warm sun does nothing to stop my heart from pounding.
“Hey, Nox, how ya been?”
“Not too good, Gunny. We’ve got a man down, and it’s not lookin’ good.” I steal a glance inside seeing no one has moved.
“Sorry to hear that.”
“What’s goin’ on? How’s Ava?” Carsyn had damn well better be okay. If nothing else is going right, she has to be safe.
“I think she’s fine. You don’t know?”
My gut twists and the sudden urge to hunch over hits me, but I fight it knowing I need to get information. This is exactly what I don’t need at the moment. “Don’t know what?” I really didn’t want the answer, but needed to hear it just the same.
“She took off a few weeks ago. She didn’t call you?”
My hand rubs over my face in frustration. “No. I haven’t talked to her since I left.” Even though I gave her a damn phone with my number for her to call at any time. True, I didn’t talk to her, but I thought it was for the best. I didn’t want to cause her more pain.
“Shit. I thought for sure she would tell you,” he huffs out.
“No, Gunny. Where is she?” My back teeth grind down as my body tenses. Anger starts to bubble in my veins as a cold sweat breaks out across my forehead. Fear like I haven’t felt before slices through me like a knife. I have to protect her. Need to.
While I knew she’d leave Gunny and Sharon’s at one point, I’d asked Gunny to keep tabs on her, so I could. I may not be talking to Carsyn, but I talked to Gunny, just haven’t the last couple of weeks.
She’d been with them for over four months and from what Gunny told me, she was doing well. Now this.
“I was hopin’ you were gonna tell me that. She’s got some mail here. I think it’s all junk, but I wanted to talk to her so it gave me an excuse.”
“Since when do you need an excuse?”
He lets out a gust of air. “Ava, she’s a tricky one. Knew the moment she left that she wouldn’t be callin’ us. It was written all over her face.” He pauses. “Fear.”
“What?” I clip out, gripping the phone so hard it cracks.
“No matter what I taught her, that fear didn’t leave her eyes. She’s a one, I tell ya, and loyal to the core. We got a couple of those hang up calls where we answer and whoever is on the other end hangs up. Well, that’s when I saw the change in her.”
“What change?”
“She went from semi-relaxed to hardcore tense. Knew in my gut from that she was gonna be spooked and take off and, well, I can’t keep her here.”
Sure you could.
He continues, “I thought she’d call you and let you know where she was goin’. Knew you two were close.”
Rubbing my eyes, a headache forms behind them. Fuck. “Any trace on those prank calls?”
“Not that I know of.”
“And you don’t know where she was headed?”
“Nope. And she said she’d call, but never did. You think she’s in trouble?”
“Fuck, I hope not.”
Rylynn comes storming out of the ER doors, look of fury emanating from her making her steps tense and determined.
“I’ll see what I can find. You hear anything you call me.”
“Gotcha.”
The line disconnects right when Rylynn gets to me, her fists tight at her sides. “Who was it? I want to know who the fuck was driving that car that hit them.” Her tone leaves no imagination of what she’s planning. One thing about Rylynn is she might be young, but she takes zero shit and protects her family full force.
You could ask the woman she shot in Emery’s house, but she’s dead.
“Don’t know who it is yet. We checked the car at the scene, and it was empty. Once we find out about Mearna and Dagger, I’m sure Buzz or Austyn will get on the search.”
“You’re giving them time to get away.” Her eyes glare at me. She’s vibrating with so much anger it comes off of her in waves.
“Whoever it was, we will take care of this, Rylynn. I get you’re pissed and there isn’t a damn thing that you can do right now, but you gotta be here for your momma. She’s hurtin’ bad. You let me and the guys handle the asshole.”