by Beth Flynn
He now stood in what Anthony Bear used as an unofficial office at Camp Sawgrass and gave himself a once-over in the only full-length mirror available to him. He had to stand far back because it still wasn’t large enough to capture his enormous image.
He’d always been tall, even as a kid, but he hadn’t started filling out until the year after his appendectomy. He’d finally weaned himself off the drugs that had not only been fueling a desperation that continued to land him in jail but had drained what little money he’d managed to accumulate, thanks to his criminal endeavors.
He used both hands to pull his thick brown hair away from his face. It was long enough to put in a ponytail, but he’d never been a ponytail kind of guy. He scratched at his jaw, the whiskers just lengthy enough to give some resistance to his short nails. He stared at his face for longer than he intended, noticing for the first time that his eyebrows gave the appearance that he had a permanent scowl, which his dark eyes only exacerbated. He tried to smile. It didn’t work. He appeared as unnatural as a roaring lion pretending to be a kitten. Rather silly, actually.
Clasping his hands behind his head, he paced around the room while contemplating how he could manage to see Lucy again. He couldn’t think of a place where he could casually run into her. He didn’t frequent churches, libraries, or college campuses like he assumed she did. And he was certain she didn’t hang at biker bars or the back rooms of pool halls where Brooks collected on Anthony’s debts. Anthony Bear was one of the most feared loan sharks on Florida’s west coast. Brooks had been with his club for years, but more recently he’d been tasked with collecting from Anthony’s borrowers and doing whatever was necessary to convince those who couldn’t pay that it would be in their best interest if they did.
He did one more brush of his hands through his unruly mane before he dropped them to his sides. Lucy may not frequent biker bars or pool halls, but she had to put gas in her car and food in her refrigerator. He already knew her address and was familiar with the quaint neighborhood where she lived. He was pretty sure he’d stolen a motorcycle out of someone’s garage about three blocks from her house. He hadn’t gone as far as determining if she lived alone or with her parents or even her scrawny brother.
The office door opened, interrupting his thoughts. One of the newest club regulars, he thought her name was Amanda or maybe Amelia, padded toward him. He didn’t move. Just stood there staring at her, knowing what she wanted—what she needed—and what she was willing to do for it. She sidled up to him, wrapping one arm around his huge tattooed bicep while simultaneously using the other hand to wrestle with his zipper. She nuzzled her nose and mouth against the skin that displayed a sinister skull with flames of fire shooting from its eyes. She turned her head, her soft cheek plastered against the rock-hard muscle of his left bicep.
“I have something special planned for you, Brooks,” she cooed. “I know what you like and you know what I like. It’s the perfect partnership.”
Yeah, he knew what she liked. In the sack and up her nose. And he could supply both. Except he wasn’t in the mood. The revelation was like a sucker punch to his gut.
He didn’t know who he was more pissed at. Lucy for showing back up in his life. Or himself for letting her turn it upside down.
Chapter 9
There were only two points of entry to Lucy’s neighborhood. Brooks picked the one nearest to her house. The following morning, he parked himself between two vehicles waiting to be serviced at a tire shop that sat catty-corner to the closest intersection near the subdivision’s entrance. It was a choice that would pay off forty minutes later.
The traffic roared past at a steady pace, leaving a trail of exhaust that was partially visible in the brilliant morning sun. Although he wasn’t near enough for her to notice him, he was confident he wouldn’t be able to miss the light blue death trap she drove from afar. He’d been sitting in the parking lot straddling his bike since eight that morning. He was aware of the few curious looks he received from the tire shop patrons and employees but knew he wouldn’t be approached. So he sat. And he waited. And he thought.
Why? Why was Lucy Renquest so important to him? Did he feel he owed her a debt for helping him in the hospital all those years ago? If that was the case, he could’ve considered the debt paid when he handled that piece of shit on her behalf at the restaurant. There had to be more to it.
Lewis had been right about Marty. She’d remained loyal and stuck by Brooks for years. Just like he’d intervened for Lucy, he’d once been Marty’s champion too. A long time ago. Maybe she thought she owed him. As far as he was concerned, she didn’t. But she wouldn’t go away. Wouldn’t leave him alone. She’d been killing him with kindness for years. Thinking her love could placate his internal demons. Believing it would be enough to change him for his own good. To keep him out of trouble. She’d been wrong. Nobody, not even Lucy, would be able to tame the beast that roared inside of him.
The thought didn’t make him sad. He knew himself all too well and didn’t want to change. He was who he was. Who he’d always been. And even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to change now. Not even for Lucy. He could only speculate that she was the total opposite of him. She was sweet. He was rotten. She had the appearance of a small, pale, and fragile angel. He was a large, dark-haired, and angry beast. Her innocence was as tangible as his guilt. He wore evidence of it on his face for the whole world to see.
So what was he doing here? What could he possibly hope to accomplish by running into Lucy again? Invite her to dinner? Take her on a date? He laughed out loud at the thought. Maybe Marty had done both of them a favor. He started up his motorcycle, backed out of the spot and headed for the four-lane road. He was getting ready to pull into traffic when he spotted the light blue car in the distance. And just like he couldn’t stop himself from seeking her out at the restaurant seven days earlier, he followed after Lucy Renquest.
As the bike pipes roared above the noise of morning traffic, Brooks tried to convince himself the entire ride that he was just following a light blue car.
And not the heart he was convinced he didn’t have.
Chapter 10
It was almost too easy. Brooks stayed at a safe distance for a few miles and saw when she pulled into a convenience store with gas pumps. It was one he’d frequented many times over the years and he was amazed that he’d not run into her sooner. He slowed down and watched as she parked in front and went inside the store. Once the door closed behind her, he sped up and pulled up next to her car. He got off his bike and went inside. She’d already made her selection and was standing at the cash register with her back to him. He moved off to the side so as not to block the entrance. After paying for her purchase and politely thanking the clerk, she turned around and almost gasped. She hastily recovered, smiled unconvincingly at Brooks, and walked past him and out the door.
He was right behind her, calling to her as she made haste for her car.
“Lucy. Lucy! Wait!” he demanded.
She didn’t slow down. He caught up with her and lightly grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around before she could open the car door.
“I know you came by the bait shop. I know Marty ran you off. That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he informed her as she struggled to break free from his grip.
His comment stopped her wiggling and Brooks let go of her arm.
She craned her neck to gaze up at him while simultaneously pushing her glasses up her nose. She nodded and said, “Thank you for telling me. If you’ll excuse me, I have some errands to run. I’m getting ready to leave for a month-long trip and I have things to do.”
Brooks was stunned into silence. She seemed sincere, but there was something different about her. There was an obvious seismic shift in their atmosphere. This wasn’t the mild-mannered, mature teenager who’d come to his aid in the emergency room. Or the twenty-two-year-old woman he’d championed just last week. He knew Marty had scared her off, but what exactly had the woman told her? And whe
re the hell was she going for a month? He was momentarily without words and was relieved when she finally spoke.
“I hope you at least got to enjoy the cupcakes,” she told him as she turned back to her car.
He almost smiled but remembered how ridiculous he looked.
“I did get them and wanted to explain about Marty,” he said to her back. “And where are you going for a month?”
She had one foot in the car, the other still planted on the pavement, as she swiveled slightly to look at him. Ignoring his offer of an explanation concerning the woman named Marty, she informed him, “I’m going on a cruise.”
“Who with?” he asked, unable to mask the irritation in his voice. The smell of fuel from the gas pumps was strong and served as a reminder that he would soon need a fill-up.
Lucy saw his question as a way to flaunt her independence. And as much as she appreciated his intervention at the restaurant with Artie, she also wanted him to understand that she wouldn’t be requiring his services in the future. “I’m going by myself. Just like I’ve done for the past three years.” She squinted as if something had just occurred to her.
“Did you follow me here?”
“No,” he lied. “I come here all the time.”
He couldn’t be certain, but she almost looked disappointed. She shook her head as if to clear it and told him matter-of-factly, “You’re welcome. Goodbye…” she paused and tilted her head slightly. “Brooks? Is that even your real name?”
He gave her a curt nod. “It’s Jonas Brooks. But I go by Brooks. Nobody calls me Jonas.”
“I see. Goodbye then…”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence as the private moment was interrupted by a loud rumbling that shook the ground.
Brooks had detected the familiar sound moments earlier and was hoping it would continue past them. No such luck. He didn’t even turn his head as a few bikes rolled up to the front of the store, while another two stopped in front of the gas pumps.
Without missing a beat, Lucy asked, “Friends of yours?” Her voice was laced with mild curiosity.
He nodded slightly, his aggravation evident by his frown. “I guess you could say that,” barely left his lips before they found themselves surrounded by the most dangerous-looking people Lucy had ever encountered at one time. But oddly, she didn’t feel threatened or intimidated. She felt safe.
“Brooks, my man!” one shouted, followed by a light punch to his shoulder.
“Are you coming with?” a guy with two missing front teeth inquired.
Another informed him, “S’posed to pay big-time.”
And finally, “Who’s your friend?” from Amanda or Amelia or whatever her name was. The disdain in her tone made it obvious she was still feeling the sting of Brooks’ rejection from the previous evening. She gave Lucy a nasty once-over.
Brooks stared hard at the woman. “None of your fucking business.”
There was a round of snickering and before anyone else could comment, Brooks heard the slamming of a car door and an engine starting. Lucy backed out of the parking spot and put her car in gear to pull away. She stopped before leaving and rolled down the window. She looked at Brooks with a sad smile and said, “Goodbye.” She paused a beat before whispering so that only he could hear her, “Jonas.”
And then she was gone.
Chapter 11
Brooks just stood there, his arms dangling at his sides, his fists clenched into tight balls. He watched Lucy ease her car onto the main road. He caught sight of a brown sedan pulling out of the business across the street, turning the same way Lucy was heading. He thought he remembered a similar car in the parking lot at the restaurant that day. Why it stuck in his mind, he couldn’t say. It was an ordinary brown car. There were thousands of them on the road. He watched a pickup truck pull up to the gas pumps. A man got out and started filling up gas jugs he’d retrieved from the bed.
He finally relaxed and half-listened to the conversations going on around him. Amanda/Amelia was leaning up against Hobie’s parked bike and feigning interest in her bright red nails. A couple Brooks had never met were having a conversation with Hobie, one of the club’s longtime and trusted members. From what Brooks could gather, the twosome had briefly been a part of another club on Florida’s east coast. Brooks knew they were talking about Satan’s Army. Their Prez was a man named Grizz. He was known to be Anthony Bear’s archenemy and a sadistic son of a bitch. Although Brooks had a sneaking suspicion they weren’t the rivals everyone thought them to be. Hobie was informing the new couple that Anthony would want them vetted. It was the only way to ensure Grizz hadn’t deliberately sent them to keep eyes on Anthony’s crew.
“Honey, there is no way I would do anything for that man.” The woman jutted her chest out and cocked a hip. “Me and my man have been around. We’ve ridden with some of the worst of them, but I’ve never encountered anyone like Grizz before.”
A couple of people laughed and one said under his breath, “Wait until you encounter Bear.” More chuckles from the few who’d heard him.
The woman droned on about her disdain for Grizz. She took an exaggerated drag on her cigarette, exhaling slowly. “I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate Grizz,” she said with a curl of her lip.
“So, Brooks, tell us about your little pale girlfriend. Looks like we were interrupting something.”
Brooks looked over at Davey. He too was a newer member of their club. They’d not had much interaction. Hobie, who’d been standing next to Brooks, and sensing that something was about to go down, took a step back so he was out of Brooks’ peripheral vision. He slowly shook his head as a warning to Davey, who’d seen him but didn’t know or care to take a hint. Davey didn’t give Brooks a chance to answer when he continued in a whiney drawl, “Damn, she was so white she almost didn’t seem real. Like she’s a virginal angel or something.” He snickered at his own comment.
Brooks still didn’t answer but motioned to the woman who’d been complaining about Grizz for a drag on her cigarette. Instead of passing him one, she lit up a fresh one for him. Brooks hadn’t smoked in years, and he inhaled deeply, letting his lungs resume their love affair with the sharp, acrid burn of the smoke. He watched the owner of the pickup truck finish filling up his gas jugs and head inside to pay.
“I wonder if her nipples are as pale as the rest of her? I’d like to run into her again. I’d drag her behind some building and fuck her real hard. And I’d chew some color into her tits while doing it. Then I’d bring her out to the Glades and use her for gator bait.” His comments were followed by a hearty laugh. He didn’t realize no one was laughing with him.
Hobie didn’t know what Brooks’ relationship was with the girl in the light blue car. But he did know when Brooks was going to attack. It wasn’t obvious to the human eye. No clenched fists or tightened jaw. Hobie likened it to someone driving down the road minding their own business when, without warning, a dump truck crosses into their lane and hits them head-on. He imagined it to be the same feeling the person behind the wheel would have immediately before the recognition they were meeting their demise. That split second of awareness that sent a jolt of adrenaline and dread through your veins. Just enough time to know something awful was about to happen. But not enough time to be able to stop it. He took another step back.
Davey had started to say something else when Brooks reached out and grabbed him by the throat. With the cigarette dangling from his mouth, he effortlessly dragged Davey one-handed toward the gas pumps. The man was sputtering and using both hands to try and pry Brooks’ meaty fingers from around his neck. His eyes were bulging out of their sockets as he managed a glance back toward the group he’d been talking to only seconds earlier. He’d obviously pissed Brooks off. As soon as the man released him, Davey would apologize. He didn’t notice when Brooks used his free hand to reach into the bed of a truck that had been parked at the pumps. He didn’t get a chance to speak because as soon as Brooks threw him on the hard cement, his throa
t was filling up with a burning liquid. The same liquid that was burning his eyes which were tightly closed as he rolled onto his side, coughing and choking. He felt the warm liquid soak through his clothes, down to his skin. And then, it stopped.
He heard shouts of “Oh no!” and “What is that man doing?” There was even a concerned, “Someone needs to call the police!”
Davey mustered up enough courage to roll onto his back and open his eyes. They were still stinging, but he could see Brooks crouched down next to him. A gas can was spilled over on its side. The cigarette was dangling precariously from his mouth. One wrong move and they’d both go up in flames. It was a miracle that fumes alone hadn’t ignited. Brooks, unconcerned with his own safety, was obviously waiting for an apology.
“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to insult your friend. I swear, man. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Brooks took a long pull on the cigarette and blew out the smoke. He nodded curtly and said, “Apology accepted.” He stood up and walked toward his bike.
Davey’s relief was obvious as he managed to pull himself to a sitting position.
Brooks started his bike and backed out of the parking spot. The woman who’d offered him the smoke started to run to Davey’s aid, but Hobie grabbed her arm to hold her back. They watched as Brooks drove toward Davey who still sat huddled by the gas pumps. Hobie knew what was going to happen and continued to restrain the woman who was trying to break free from his grasp.
“Don’t go over there, darlin’,” Hobie said evenly while he watched Brooks slowly ride away.
“But he needs help,” the woman cried.