by Cora Black
The stout man, the biker leader, leapt forward and hugged him, encasing Ben’s entire torso with his long arms. “Oh, Benny, boy, it’s so nice to see you back.”
Back from where? Charlotte wondered before she realized what the man meant. Ben was acting like his old self, not the grunting, shrugging mass of apathy that had been fucking up constantly over the past few months. He’d even let that aggressive guy off with a scowl rather than beating him up. Maybe he did better when he was being observed by somebody not in the gang. Or maybe he’s trying to impress me, Charlotte thought before scolding herself again. It’s not like that. You’re not dating. It was becoming a little disconcerting, how often she had to remind herself of that.
Charlotte stood in the corner, pretending to be lost in her own mind while she watched the Highway Titans chatter excitedly with the other bikers. It was like these big tough men had just received barrels full of sugary sweet candy, giddy like five-year-old boys. It made her smile to herself, but maybe that was the alcohol getting to her head again.
After another few minutes, though, the bikers separated back into their own gangs, Ben’s boys slowly filing out of the place. But the stout man and Ben were still standing close to each other. Charlotte could tell by the movement of Ben’s mouth that they were speaking quickly, but their voices were so low she couldn’t make out a single word even as the bikers quieted down. Charlotte just alternated between watching Ben’s face and focusing on the bright pink neon sign that hung in the opposite window. The Highway Titans’ place was more rustic, full of creaking, probably leaking wood. There was no glitz or glam to it. Charlotte thought she preferred the Titans’ way instead. It felt honest, somehow, like they weren’t trying to fool anybody. They were bikers, and they weren’t trying to hide it.
“Howard!” Ben yelled, breaking her out of her reverie. “We’re leaving, come on.”
Charlotte smiled at the stout man as she walked past. “It was nice meeting you,” she said.
The guy grinned back. “It’s good seeing him with a nice girl, you know. You keep it up, babe.”
Everyone in this little world seems to be concerned with Ben’s love life, she thought to herself. On one hand, it struck her as very odd, almost foreign. To Ben it was probably suffocating, how everybody in his social and professional circle was so attentive, so judgmental of his every choice. But on the other hand, it was… nice. It was like having this huge extended family, where everybody was invested and everybody was happy to see you do well. Everyone had apparently noticed how Ben was behaving, how badly he was doing, and they noticed a change in him today. Charlotte filed away that piece of information for later. She would analyze it more when she had time, when Ben wasn’t rushing her onto the back of his bike and pulling away from the bar.
“You shocked about our little deal back there?” Ben yelled over the sound of his bike’s engine. Charlotte took a couple seconds to register what he said, more concerned with how the stronger wind was pulling up the back of her skirt, probably revealing her tiny underwear to the cars that followed them halfway down the road.
“No, no,” Charlotte said automatically. “Well, a little bit. I haven’t seen anything like that before.”
“You scared? You’re a witness now,” Ben said.
Jesus, she hadn’t even thought of that. But no, she wasn’t scared. Maybe she should have been. “Are you scared of something?” she asked instead of answering directly. “Like getting caught by the cops?”
“In this fucking town?” Ben scoffed, and she could hear the disdain in his voice even through the roar of the bike. “I’m more worried about the fuckin’ weather than I am the local police.”
Charlotte knew what he meant, even as a member of law enforcement herself. There had been so many fuck-ups and scandals in the police department the past few years, and they’d been way too distracted to pay attention to the biker gangs even as they proliferated in the area. “Fair enough,” she said.
“Still though,” Ben continued. “You weren’t fucking horrified seeing tons of blow being traded right before your eyes? Must’ve made you shit yourself.”
“Gross, no,” Charlotte reflexively answered before she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to be prissy around him. “I don’t know. It’s weird for me to see. But it’s what I signed up for. I’m not here to judge.”
“That’s exactly what you’re here to do,” Ben said back, but before Charlotte could think up a retort, they pulled into another biker bar, this one closer to the Highway Titans’ home on the edge of the desert.
I’m here just to judge him? To judge his whole life? Is that what he thinks? Charlotte worried as she swung her legs over the bike and followed him inside without asking. This bar was more of what she pictured a biker bar to look like. Loud, hard rock music was blaring out of several speakers, making her ears hurt, and tons of women in tight clothing littered the entire first room, shooting pool and downing drinks, all with their breasts practically popping out of their tops. Charlotte felt herself growing stiff as the girls looked up from what they were doing and stared at her, some of them in curiosity, some of them with a hard edge to their faces. Probably worried about a new bitch coming in on their territory.
Fuck, I am judging them. I’m judging all of them, Charlotte realized.
This bar’s bikers came out to the front room one by one, each guy taller and more hulky than the one before. They didn’t smile or call Ben by any cutesy nickname. Instead they just crossed their arms and stared at him expectantly, their bulky leader chewing gum as he stared down Ben.
Ben stepped forward and said something to the leader, but Charlotte couldn’t make it out over the booming music.
Charlotte approached the baby-faced biker in Ben’s gang, Noah, weaving between the bodies of a few sexy yet hard-faced women on her way over. Noah intimidated her the least out of all the Titans, maybe because he looked about 18. “What’s this about?” she whispered to him.
“He’s makin’ another deal,” Noah whispered back.
“Drugs?” Charlotte asked, trying to keep her voice as low as possible, like it was a bad word.
Noah shook his head, sighing a little when Charlotte stared up at him, non-verbally demanding an answer. “Arms, honey. You know what that means?”
Guns. The Titans were selling guns to these big scary men. Somehow this felt a lot worse than the drugs. Charlotte felt like she might be sick.
After a few minutes of quiet discussion, the other bikers filed back into one of their inner rooms, leaving the Titans and Charlotte in the front with the women. “You want a drink, darlin’?” one of the older-looking women yelled over to Ben, who shook his head.
“No thanks, sweetheart,” Ben shot back, walking over to Charlotte. “Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?”
“Nothing, nothing—Come here,” she said, gesturing for Ben to step closer so she could whisper into his ear. “You can’t sell guns to these people.”
Ben laughed, loud enough that the women and bikers could probably hear it even over the music. “Oh, yeah? And why not?”
“They—They look evil, you know?” Charlotte said. “They can’t be trusted with guns. You don’t have any idea what they’re going to use them for.”
Ben sighed deeply and stared at her for a second. “Relax, princess,” he finally said, tearing his eyes away from her to smile at a woman who was hovering nearby. “We’re not selling them guns. They’re selling them to us.”
“Oh,” Charlotte said, feeling relief wash over her. “What for?”
Ben shrugged. “Protection. It’d be stupid to go without the newest tech.”
Charlotte pondered why she had never thought of the Titans that way, as people with enemies who could hurt them. She wondered why she didn’t feel fear seep into her body at the realization that she was hanging around people who had guns and who had guns regularly pointed at them.
The other bikers filed back out into the front bar, the leader gesturing to B
en for him to come over to the main bar. Charlotte stayed put, a little nervous to be noticed by the hulking monster that Ben was going to deal with. But instead, one of the bikers’ women sidled up to her without making any noise, almost scaring the shit out of Charlotte when she popped up in her peripheral vision.
“You with Ben, huh?” the lady asked, almost shouting to be heard over the music and adjusting the straps to her tank top so it hung right on her body. Charlotte wondered if this woman was a sex worker or if she just slept with the men for fun. Either way, given how huge and unfriendly the guys looked, it couldn’t be fun.
“I’m not ‘with him’ with him,” Charlotte answered, trying to smile in a friendly way, as if she could charm the girl out of continuing this line of questioning.
“Listen, let me give you some advice,” the lady said, leaning in closer to drop her voice. “When a man chooses you, latch on and don’t let go. You don’t want to be passed around like a ragdoll. It’s bad for business. The men won’t respect you, the other bitches won’t respect you, and you won’t get anything but chewed up and spat out, over and over again. Believe me, I’ve seen it happen dozens of times.”
“I—thank you,” Charlotte said. “But I’m not… I’m not here to fuck anybody.”
“Sure,” the woman replied, a grin spilling out over her face. “And I’m gonna run for president one day. Listen, just let him take care of you. Ben’s a good enough guy. Or at least he was. Shouldn’t be hard to change him back again.”
“What do you mean, he ‘was?’” Charlotte asked, dropping her voice so low that she wasn’t sure the girl could hear her. “He’s not a good guy anymore?”
The woman pursed her lips, like she was trying to think up how to word it correctly. “Some guys are in this business for money, and they get rough when they have to. But some guys are in it for the roughness, and the money is just a bonus. Ben used to be the first kinda guy. Now, I’m not so sure.”
“Like, getting into fights with people in your club?” Charlotte prompted her, desperate for the woman to keep going.
“Yeah, and other stuff,” the girl said with a shrug, and Charlotte wanted to shake her for being so goddamned vague.
“Does he hurt the girls he’s with?” Charlotte asked quietly. She was a little afraid to know the answer. She knew from Laila that Ben’s dad was apparently abusive. Maybe Ben modeled his behavior. Charlotte had seen that happen with her clients more often than she could count.
The girl shook her head quickly. “I mean… he isn’t nice, from what I hear from the girls he fucks. He’s kinda mean, you know, but not rough. Not like that.”
Charlotte breathed deeply in relief, and the woman patted her gently on her shoulder. “You’ll be all right, doll,” the woman said before walking away. But Charlotte wasn’t just worried for herself. She needed to know that underneath everything, Ben was a good man. She couldn’t help a criminal become better at his job if it meant abusing people.
By the time Ben finished talking with the leader, Charlotte could see that dusk had fallen, the last gleams of sunlight streaking in through the dusty windows. He walked back over to her, a swagger in his step. “We got the stuff,” he whispered to Noah, who grinned and pushed Ben’s chest playfully.
“I knew you could do it, boss!” Noah said, sounding about thirteen years old in his enthusiasm.
“Yeah, yeah, at ease, soldier,” Ben said back, rubbing the top of Noah’s hair like he was his dad. It made Charlotte feel warm, seeing him like that, all light and affectionate. How could she ever second-guess that he was worth helping when that hidden kindness showed up like light seeping through the cracks of dusty floorboards? Maybe Ben’s right. Maybe I am judgmental, she thought.
The Highway Titans trickled out of the bar, some of them yelling out the details of future plans with some scantily clad women on their way out. Charlotte once again hopped onto the back of Ben’s bike, clinging on tighter than she had before, feeling his muscles move through his jacket. She felt like she knew him now, almost like she’d known him for years.
When the gang rolled to a stop in front of the Highway Titans’ clubhouse, Ben shouted out to the men as they turned off their engines, “Yo! Hold up a second. I want to talk to you guys about tomorrow real quick.” But one of the men got off his bike, took off his helmet, and marched inside anyway. She wondered if maybe he hadn’t heard Ben, but when Ben yelled out, “Axel!” and the guy didn’t turn around, it was clear that it was some kind of intentional show of insubordination. Charlotte recognized Axel as the guy Ben fought with the night she met him. He was handsome, almost movie-star level handsome despite his scars, but there was still a large splotchy bruise covering half of his jaw. Probably Ben’s handiwork.
Ben growled under his breath but swung off his bike to address the rest of the gang. Charlotte stayed seated, running her hands over the smooth surface of the seat that Ben had vacated. She really liked this bike. It smelled good, even factoring in the gasoline. She wanted to ride it again and again, and maybe learn how to operate one herself.
After another minute, the men started filtering into the bar, leaving in pairs. Ben went inside last and Charlotte followed, keeping a few feet of distance. She got the vibe he wasn’t ready to talk to her yet. She had important things to say, but she couldn’t afford pissing him off.
Ben walked over to the second half of the bar, going straight to the stool where Uncle Wally was sitting. Charlotte didn’t get there in time to hear what was said, but Uncle Wally smiled up at his adopted son and gave him a deep nod of approval. Charlotte blinked for a second, her eyes irritated by the clouds of smoke in the bar, and when she opened them Ben had disappeared and Wally was back to chatting with the elderly biker sitting next to him.
Charlotte looked around the whole bar, wondering if somehow Ben managed to sneak back out into the open air without her noticing. Maybe this had been his plan all along, wait until she was stuck in a crowd and then slip by her, free from all judgment. But then she heard a deep cough and turned her head. Ben was standing at the foot of the stairs that led up to his loft apartment, and Charlotte finally locked eyes with him. Ben nodded his head in the direction of the stairs, before he began walking up. After a few seconds of hesitation, Charlotte followed, keeping a safe distance between the two. What is he thinking? Does he want to fuck?
After climbing the stairs, Ben approached his kitchen, taking out a bottle of whiskey and pouring out two full shots. A moment later he approached her in the center of the room, settling down on the floor next to her and staring up until she sat down next to him.
For a moment they were silent, and Charlotte wondered if both shot glasses were for Ben. But then he spoke, avoiding her gaze even as she stared at him in wordless question.
“I’m sorry about what happened earlier,” Ben said under his breath as he handed her the shot glass. “Ryan, you know, that fucking loser in the bar, who called you a slut.”
“It was kind of my fault,” Charlotte said before downing her drink. “I should be able to handle guys like that. God knows I have enough experience with it.”
Ben smirked a little. It was strange, seeing a smile on his face close-up. It was like he was born with a frown on, like his natural state was consternation. So, she decided to push a little. “What are you smiling about?”
He shrugged. “Nothing.” So that was an unsuccessful venture, Charlotte thought. But then he opened his mouth to speak again, this time lowering his voice as if he was afraid that the others could hear from downstairs. “I wonder what that would look like, you handling him. Bet it’d be real fun to see.” Charlotte grinned, feeling warm and bubbly inside, but before she could respond Ben cut in again. “Anyway,” he said, turning his face away form her. “It’s just... It’s a rite of passage, I guess. Getting harassed by some asshole in the club.”
“Does this make me an honorary member? Am I a Highway Titan?” Charlotte said, a kidding tone to her voice, but Ben shrugged again. Maybe the
answer was yes? “Anyway, thank you. For standing up for me.”
Ben nodded and pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket. “Want one?”
“No, I…” she trailed off, trying to come up with a reason not to smoke. But she came up empty. “Okay, yeah. I’ll take one.”
Ben leaned in to light her cigarette for her, but then he pulled back, keeping his distance from her. Charlotte felt awkward, like after a whole day of interacting with the other bikers and women she somehow forgot how to talk to him. She’d never felt this insecure at work. She’d always been able to figure out each person’s problems and the solutions they needed within a single session; after that, it was like following a script, saying the right lines that would make them learn and grow and change. She’d never felt so lost. But she’d also never had a client like him before, someone who took so long to be pinned down.
Eventually, the silence drove Charlotte to the edge, and she just said the first thing that popped into her mind. “You seemed to do well today.”