by Brook Wilder
“What?” Elle asked, startled by his analogy, “No, no. It wasn’t that.” She shook her head, giving him a sideways look, “Ghost’s…ass?” she murmured to herself, repeating Joel’s…colorful language before pulling herself out of it and focusing once more on what had happened.
“It wasn’t them fighting, although he’s right, you know, you are two, fully grown women who should know better.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not our mother,” Hot Wheels shot back, her pale green eyes narrowed in her direction and Elle shifted uncomfortably in the chair.
“Right, not my business,” she swallowed hard before going on, “So Carla and Hot Wheels were arguing so I went back outside to give them time to…well, time to cool off a little. I was heading towards the greenhouse when I heard a motorcycle pull up.
“I didn’t hear it,” Carla said, her brows lowered and Joel gave her a sideways, sardonic look, softened somewhat by the grin that spread across his face.
“Well, you were a little preoccupied. And the two of you were shouting at each other so loudly I’m not surprised you didn’t hear anything else.”
“Anyways,” Elle said, interjecting, “I was about to walk into the greenhouse, the motorcycle pulled up and this guy got off. He started poking around. He looked really suspicious. So, I followed him.”
“Who was he?” Joel demanded, his voice suddenly hard, scary, and Elle had no problem seeing how he’d come to be the youngest president the Dirty Cruisers had ever had. But she still couldn’t answer his question.
“I don’t know. I didn’t recognize him. I’ve never seen him before.”
“Fuck!” Joel bit off the curse, pacing furiously back and forth in the small office in obvious frustration. He stopped when his path brought him back in front of her, “Do you remember what he looked like? Can you describe him?”
“He had dark hair, really greasy looking. I think he had hazel eyes, but I’m not sure. Skinny, kind of wiry and nervous,” Elle paused, shrugging, “I’m sorry that’s all I got.”
“What about his bike?” Hot Wheels asked suddenly.
“His motorcycle? It was in bad shape. All rusted out and dented like it had been crashed more than a few times. Why?”
Hot wheels was quiet for a long moment and Joel turned towards her.
“What is it, Wheels? You know this guys?”
“Maybe,” she answered slowly, her light green eyes lost in thought, “It could be Keebler, one of the Nomad’s, but…then again, it could be anyone from the other gangs wanting a piece. That’s why it’s so important that you talk to Sparkplug–”
“We’re not having this conversation again, Hot Wheels,” Joel interrupted, “I told you, it’s Carla’s business, it’s Carla’s call. Got it?”
“Yeah, boss. I got it,” Hot Wheels said, sounding sullen, but sincere.
“What happened next?” Carla asked, and it took Elle a moment to realize the question was directed at her.
“Oh, um. I lied,” Elle shrugged, looking abashed as she answered, “I told him you guys had seen him and called the cops and I was letting him know out of the goodness of my heart.” She shook her head, still not quite believing that he had fallen for it, “He wasn’t the brightest, I will say that. Terrible grammar.”
“That definitely sounds like Keebler,” Hot Wheels said under her breath.
“Maybe, but we don’t have proof, so…” Joel trailed off rubbing his hand over his mouth as he thought.
“So, what? Where does that leave us, then?” Carla asked, finishing his sentence, “What do we do now? We need to do something.”
“I…agree with Carla,” Hot Wheels said slowly, in obvious pain at the admission but then shrugged good naturedly, “When you’re right, you’re right. And this time she is. We have to do something about this, otherwise it’s only going to get worse. And not just with the other crews. We need to do something about the Cruisers too, Joel. Otherwise, you’re going to lose them.”
Joel was silent for a tense moment and three pairs of eyes watched him, waiting to see what he’d say next. Finally, he gave one firm nod, his expression resigned.
“Alright. Then we do something. We’ll start brainstorming. Hot Wheels, you call everybody in that you can. Everybody that’s still one hundred percent loyal.”
Hot Wheels gave another pained look, but Elle could tell it was for a different reason. She nodded her head slowly before pulling out her phone and turning away. Joel pulled a chair up the desk, using it as a makeshift table, and waved for Elle and Carla to join him.
“Okay, so here are our options…”
***
Honey looked around the small office and the even smaller group of people meeting inside it. Carla and Joel were talking low and quiet about something, their heads bent together, and Hot Wheels was standing against one wall next to Tucker. She kept casting thoughtful stares at Carla and he wondered why for a moment, but then his attention was diverted once again by the woman sitting by herself in the padded armchair. Elle.
He’d been the last to arrive about ten minutes earlier and, in that time, his gaze had been drawn back to her again and again despite his best intentions. She hadn’t said a word to him, her only acknowledgment of his presence was the slight widening of her sweet, dark eyes and the blush that had turned her cheeks a rosy pink. He wasn’t even sure she was aware of the blush, but he certainly was. Oh hell, was he.
It made him wonder if she was thinking about that kiss from earlier, the way she’d melted against him. Just exactly like she had melted against him that one amazing, far too short night all those months ago. And then he was wondering if she was thinking of that night too and his mind would trip over itself all over again.
He would have laughed at himself if he wasn’t in so much pain. Honey shifted, for the hundredth time, moving a little closer behind the desk as his body tightened uncontrollably at the memory of her. Of her touch. Of her taste. Knock it the fuck off, he mentally shouted at his wayward thoughts. Concentrate, man.
“Alright, I guess that’s everyone, then,” Joel finally said, breaking the silence as he stood. He cast a look at Hot Wheels and she just shrugged.
“You said one hundred percent, sugar. You don’t got many of those left.”
“I can see that,” and he didn’t sound happy about that fact, Honey thought. He had a pretty good idea of what they were talking about, but didn’t say anything else as the group converged around the desk. He had to stop himself from breathing deep as Elle stepped closer, making sure that Tucker was standing in between them.
“What are we doing here, Joel?” the placid man asked. He looked like a giant, but he was as gentle as a church mouse. Well, as long as you didn’t get in the way of those massive fists of his.
“We need to make a plan,” Joel started with a sigh, “Elle found some stranger poking around the farm and luckily chased him off but things are…escalating.”
At Joel’s words, Honey sent a surprised look towards Elle. In her prim, ankle length sky blue dress and yellow cardigan she didn’t look like she could chase off a fly let alone a biker. Sudden worry for her shot through him. He hated the fact that she kept getting pulled into the middle of the Cruisers’s problems. She was so clean, so pure. She didn’t deserve to be put in danger like that.
It was all too easy for Honey to imagine what could have happened if things had gone wrong, if she had confronted a biker who didn’t take no for an answer, and didn’t get scared off as easily. Damn it. She had to be more careful. First, earlier at the clubhouse, and now this. She was going to get herself hurt.
He’d been so caught up in his own thoughts that he’d missed part of Joel’s speech.
“…so this is how it’s going to go down. Hot Wheels is already working with the Nomads, and other local crews. Honey and Tucker, you’re with her. Whatever she needs, get it done.”
“What about you?” Honey asked, trying to pull his mind back to the matter at hand.
“Elle, Carl
a, and I came up with an idea to work within the Cruisers. To try and mend some bridges so to speak. It’s just a stop gap, but hopefully it will buy us some time.”
“And what is that?”
“A party.” It was the first time Elle had spoken, and the sound of her voice sparked through him like an electric charge.
“A party?” Tucker sneered, or as much of a sneer as his calm expression would allow. But the more Honey thought about it, the better of an idea it was.
“No, it’s good. It might just work,” he interrupted before anyone else could do so, “It will give the crew a chance to see Joel, and he can say it’s off the profits from the farm as an added incentive. It will get some of them thinking that maybe it’s not such a bad gig after all.”
“Good thinking, Honey.”
“It’s not permanent, though,” Honey added reluctantly, and Joel sighed.
“I know. But it’s all we got for the moment. Keep at it. Let me know if you think of anything. Carla and I are headed back to the clubhouse now to start getting things organized and hopefully put a stop to some of the rumors going around.”
With that, the meeting was over. There was a brief flurry of activity as everyone readied to go their separate ways and Honey took the opportunity to pull Elle a little away from everyone else.
She stood stiff for a moment before looking up at him, a wariness in her gaze that he hated.
“What is it, Honey?” she asked with a sigh.
“I just…I don’t know how to say it,” he started and she snorted.
“Really, you? At a loss for words? I never thought I’d see the day.”
“No, I know what I want to say. I just don’t know how to say it without you getting pissed off.”
“Well then, don’t say it,” Elle started to turn around and leave but he stopped her with the barest touch on her arm. He felt it like a wildfire, burning him.
“I have to,” he took a deep breath, and then just let it all spill out, “I think you should leave this alone. I think you should stay out of it. It isn’t your fight, Elle. And it’s not safe. You could have been hurt today. That biker, the one who was sneaking around, he could have–”
“Well, he didn’t. And I wasn’t. And it’s none of your business,” she bit off the words angrily, “You may not understand this, but I made a promise. I gave my word and that means something to me, even it doesn’t to you.”
Without another word, Elle turned on her heel and stormed out of the office. Honey groaned, sweeping a hand over his face. He knew it was going to piss her off. He’d known it and he couldn’t just keep his mouth shut. Because he’d made a promise as well. To himself. A promise to keep her safe, to look after her. Because someone had to and she sure as hell wasn’t doing it.
He glanced over and noticed Hot Wheels’s look of commiseration, sympathy shining in her pale green eyes. He squeezed his own shut tight before shoving through the door. Well, that definitely could have gone better, he thought to himself angrily. A whole fucking lot better.
Chapter 9
Elle paced restlessly through her living room. It had taken three days to get everything ready for the massive party tonight at the clubhouse. Three days for her to spend thinking about it, dreading it, her anxiety growing over every passing minute, every passing second until she felt like one big ball of pounding nausea and suffocating claustrophobia.
She’d already tried to call Carla, twice. Both times to convince her that she couldn’t make it for one reason or another. It had only made it worse when her friend had listened patiently, her voice full of sympathy when she asked for her promise. Not to come, but just to try her hardest to make it.
Elle knew that she had her own part to play in their plan to mend the rift that had begun to crack the Dirty Cruisers in half, and the guilt that swirled through her at breaking her promise only added to the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. And no matter what she did, it wouldn’t go away. She had a sinking thought that only going to the damned party, only not breaking her promise, would ease it.
She looked down at herself. She was already dressed and ready to go. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail and tied with a dark green ribbon that matched her staid cotton dress. She knew it wasn’t the most exciting outfit but it didn’t matter.
Who would you be trying to excite, anyways? that sly, soft voice whispered. No one, she shouted back at it, no one at all. Certainly not Honey.
The sudden knock at her front door made her jump in surprise and it took a moment to get her heartbeat under control before she could force herself to go answer it. She only had a moment to wonder who it might be before she opened the door and met the familiar pale green gaze of the last person she expected to see on her front porch.
“Hot Wheels?” Elle asked, her voice shocked and then the woman was pushing past her to get inside.
“I know. I know. I don’t really want to be here either. But Carla called me. She asked me to come pick you because you were having…car problems? Or was it food poisoning? I can’t remember. Either way, she asked, so here I am.” The other woman gave her a wide, devilish grin as she waved her hands in the air and Elle just shook her head, that nauseous feeling in her gut doubling.
“I don’t know. I don’t think I can make it.”
“She also said not to take no for an answer,” Hot Wheels interrupted her rambling words, adding a narrowed eyed look under her blond brows for good measure and Elle swallowed hard. “I can’t.”
“Of course you can,” Hot Wheels scoffed, then swept her gaze up and down and Elle felt like she had never been analyzed more thoroughly, “You’re right. You can’t go.”
“I am? I mean, of course I am.”
“No, you can’t go…like that.” The grin that spread across Hot Wheels face should have warned her, but Elle just shook her head in confusion once more, “Don’t worry though. I had a feeling this might happen so I brought my emergency kit. Just stay right here.”
Elle waited, wondering what exactly her emergency kit entailed but she didn’t have to wait long because a few moments later she was back. And carrying a massive black duffel bag over her shoulder.
“Wait a minute, you’re not…that’s not for me, is it?” Elle asked queasily as she pointed to the bag, that could easily fit a body in it. And her’s wasn’t especially big, either. Hot Wheels looked from her, to the bag, and then back again before throwing her head back and letting out a belly laugh.
“You know what, Elle, I like you. You’re funny.” The other woman just shook her head, “It’s what’s inside that’s for you.” She unzipped it and dug around inside for a minute before throwing a small piece of shimmering fabric at her.
“First things first, go put that on. And take my advice. Never, ever, ever wear…that again,” Hot Wheels said with a pointed look at Elle’s outfit.
“What’s wrong with this?”
“Too many things to list, sugar. Now go. Scoot. Get changed and meet me in the bathroom.”
Before Elle could utter another word, Hot Wheels was off, hauling that damned bag and leaving Elle with no other option than to do what she said. She was a force of nature unto herself. Elle had seen the way other members of the club had fallen before her enormous personality, but she’d never had it turned full force onto herself. Hot Wheels was definitely a force to be reckoned with.
With a sigh of resignation, she hurried to her bedroom to change, and was surprised to find that, with the first step, some of the guilt and anxiety left her, melting away.
Because you have to keep your promise. You are only as good as your word, a soft voice said, and it was different this time. It was the voice of her father, echoing bittersweet the same words he’d said to her as a child, before she’d lost him. Before she’d lost both of her parents.
The melancholy thought stopped her for a moment but the racket Hot Wheels was causing from the bathroom spurred her on. Elle could only imagine what sort of chaos she was raining down on her
perfectly organized life.
She took her own outfit off, laying it carefully on the bed before throwing on the dress Hot Wheels had loaned her and barely had time to give herself a glance as a loud crashing noise echoed through the house.
“Hot Wheels, what was that!?” Elle shouted as she hurried down the hallway toward the bathroom and stopped, staring as she stood in the open doorway. “Oh no!” With a cry she leapt forward, clutching the shattered porcelain figuring, trying to scoop up the pieces.
“I’m sorry, Elle.” Hot Wheels said with a shrug, “but honestly, how upset can you be about a kitten sculpture?”