I see Charlie’s face harden. He hates being called Charles and I know it. He jerks his hand away, as if the door is hot. Then, he holds it up to show his compliance. “Fine,” he says taking a step back. “Guess you didn’t need my help after all.”
I don’t open the door because I really do need help. I don’t know who else to turn to. “You can be such a jerkwad,” I say releasing the door handle.
“You’re not exactly little miss sunshine sometimes either, you know,” Charlie says. Then, he smiles slightly. “I’m sorry, Aubrey. Come sit down. Can I get you something? I have Mountain Dews in the ‘fridge.”
“How about a beer?”
Charlie smiles. “No beer. Sorry. To me that shit tastes just like what it looks like.”
“Fine. Give me a Dew.”
Charlie walks to the refrigerator and pulls out two Dews. “Here you go,” he says, before tossing it underhand to me.
“This is going to spray everywhere!”
“Dews don’t spew,” Charlie says giving his bottle a good shake, then opening it slowly.
I give the top a slow twist and though the bottle gasses off like grandpa after eating a bean burrito, it doesn’t bubble over. “Thanks,” I say before taking a swig. Yuck! How does he drink these things?
“Aubrey, I’m sorry I laughed. I’m just shocked, I guess, that you would do something like that. Why did you do it, anyway?” Charlie asks, then grins again. “Not that I mind watching your brother squirm a little. How did you get mixed up with Darren and what can I do to help?”
I pause, not knowing where to start, and then I give Charlie the whole story. If he’s going to help me, he needs to know what he is getting into.
CHAPTER THREE
“So what do you want me to do about it?” Charlie asks.
“I don’t know. I didn’t know who else to ask.”
Charlie smiles. “Thank you, Aubrey. That’s nice of you to say.” Charlie stands up and looks out the window of his apartment. “You’re the white Altima, right?”
“Yes, why?” I ask rising to look out the window with him.
“Just checking. I don’t see anyone.”
“Me either. Maybe he’s given up.”
Charlie looks at me dubiously. “Darren? Not likely. I always thought he was as crazy as a shit-house rat. I’ll tell you what. Stay here for a while, then I’ll follow you home. I’ll swing by and pick you up before the meeting tomorrow and you can ride in with me. How’s that sound?”
I smile at Charlie. “Thanks, Charlie. I knew I could count on you.”
“Well, that’s one,” Charlie says turning away from the window.
***
Charlie and I have worked together for the last three years. I have always respected what he can do with the computer; but, as I sit and talk with him like a friend for the first time, I realize that Charlie is a really nice guy. He orders a pizza. Then, he spends a few minutes picking up and apologizing profusely for the mess.
A normal person wouldn’t peg Charlie for a biker. At six-two, Charlie looks like a preppy in his J. Crew pants and shirt. He’s clean cut and wears stylish rimless glasses. I notice for the first time that he also appears to be slim and well-muscled, though it’s hard to tell through the baggy clothes he always wears. We eat and laugh. I feel better than I have for the last several days.
As darkness falls, Charlie gets up and looks out the window again. “I still don’t see anyone hanging around. Maybe he doesn’t know where you are.”
“I hope.”
“You ready to go?” Charlie asks.
“Yes. Thanks, Charlie. I appreciate you doing this for me.”
“Hey, what are friends for?” Charlie walks into his room. He stuffs something inside the waist of his pants when he returns.
“Is that a gun?” I ask as I feel my eyes widen. Now I know why he wears such loose clothing.
“Yeah. Never leave home without it,” he says, arranging his shirt so the weapon disappears.
I recognize that slogan from somewhere, but I can’t remember where. “I didn’t know you carried a gun. Are you allowed to have that?”
“What do you mean?” Charlie asks, his eyes narrowing.
“Don’t you have to have a permit or something to carry a gun?”
“Supposed to.”
“But you don’t?” I ask, my tone making it a statement.
“Let’s just say what the state doesn’t know doesn’t hurt them.”
“What if you get stopped?”
“What if I do? I’m not going to pull the gun on a cop. Plus, they can’t search my car without probable cause. I just leave it in the center console.”
I look at Charlie in a new light. He may not be the quiet, shy guy I thought he was. “Okay. Whatever,” I say blowing it off. Hell, I’ve been involved in smuggling Harleys for nearly ten years. Who am I to judge?
Charlie and I walk out to my car. As we stride across the parking lot, I see Darren, near the entrance. He is out of the line of sight of Charlie’s window. I grab Charlie’s arm in my hand like a scared little girl. Maybe that’s all I am. “There he is!” I hiss.
Charlie looks where I am looking. Then, he pauses while fishing in his pocket. “Here,” he says handing me a key ring. “Go back inside. I think I’ll have a chat with Mr. Kelley.”
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
“Nothing. We’re just going to talk for a minute,” Charlie says, his voice harder than I have ever heard it before.
I take the keys and hurry back toward Charlie’s apartment, but I don’t go inside. I need to see this. I stand where I can see Charlie striding purposely down the parking lot. When he gets to Darren, I can see them talking. Then, Darren raises his hands in an “I’m not doing anything” type of motion. I can’t hear their voices, but it is clear from their body language that it isn’t a friendly conversation.
Finally, Darren mounts up and rides off. Charlie stands his ground a few minutes more before turning back and walking toward me. “That guy is off his nut,” Charlie says when he reaches me.
“Should we call the cops?”
“Aubrey, do you really want the cops coming around and asking questions? Besides, he hasn’t done anything yet.”
I chew on my bottom lip, not knowing what to do.
“Why don’t you stay with me tonight? I’ll sleep on the couch.”
I look at him dubiously. “And why should I do that?”
“Because, Aubrey, Darren Kelly is crazy. He didn’t like it at all that you were here in my apartment. I don’t think you should be alone tonight, in case he decides to do something stupid. Give him a little time to cool off. If you stay here, rather than in your house, there are a lot more people around. That may make him think a little more before he tries anything.”
I think about it and it makes sense. I would feel better staying with someone. And if that someone has a gun, even better. “If you make a pass at me, I’ll shoot you with your own gun,” I tease.
“Wouldn’t think of it,” Charlie says with a smile. “Last thing I want is Danny pissed off at me. He hates me already.”
“He does not,” I say as we turn to walk back into Charlie’s apartment.
“Uh-huh,” Charlie grunts. “The only reason the guys tolerate me is because they need me.”
“You don’t exactly help yourself,” I point out. “You never talk to anyone. You just sit in the corner and sulk.”
“I’m not sulking,” Charlie protests. “I just don’t see the need to have to prove myself to people that don’t give two shits about me. I’ve had enough of that already.”
I look at Charlie and I can feel my brow furrow. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” Charlie says flatly, as he unlocks the door. “Forget I said anything.”
“If we’re going to spend the night together, so to speak, you can at least tell me what’s eating at you. Maybe I can help. It’s the least I can do for you, since you’re putting me u
p.”
“Maybe some other time,” Charlie says. After that he doesn’t say much the rest of the evening. He simply reverts to that standoffish personality he wears like a shield. But, I have seen a glimmer of another Charlie, a tough and self-assured Charlie that I like much better.
CHAPTER FOUR
I am just tucking myself into Charlie’s bed, when he knocks lightly on the door. Charlie has loaned me a baggy t-shirt to sleep in; but, I pull the bed linens up to cover me just the same. “Come in,” I say.
Charlie eases the door open. “Sorry. One last stop before bed,” he says walking into his tiny bathroom.
I can’t help but stare. Charlie is a fucking knockout. He’s wearing full length pajama bottom, but no shirt. Without the baggy clothes to hide his physique, I see that he is toned and trimmed. He has a lean muscled look, like swimmers have. I hear the toilet flush and I avert my gaze so he won’t catch me watching him. “Charlie, thanks,” I say, as he walks by.
“You can use my bed anytime,” he says with a grin, before he pulls the door closed. I have a little trouble falling asleep…and not all of it because of Darren Kelley.
***
The next morning Charlie and I join the group for our normal monthly Saturday morning breakfast meeting. This is where we talk about…business. Sometimes, we get paid. Like today. Normally, we ride our bikes to these meeting. Then, we usually take a ride through the country, if the weather permits. Charlie and I arrive in his Subaru rather than two up on his bike or going to get mine. Only Lew’s bike is there, but we go in anyway.
Charlie and I greet Lew, as we slide into the large booth. As we sit, Lew and I shoot the shit while we wait for everyone else to show up. I like Lew, but Charlie reverts to type and becomes sullen and quiet. I don’t understand his change because he wasn’t like that with me on the ride in. Lew and I carry the conversation until the rest of the Dark Riders straggle in.
Once the last person arrives, Danny of course, we get down to club business. Lew slides a thick envelope across the table to each of us. None of us count what’s inside because we know Lew wouldn’t screw us. “We did good this time. The club pocketed a little over $24,000 after expenses. There’s $12,000 in each envelope. So, well done men and lady,” Lew says smiling at me. “Not bad for a couple months work.” We all murmur our thanks, as the envelopes disappear.
“Word is spreading,” Rick says. “I have orders for 24 bikes already. I will get those to you this weekend,” he says looking at me. “At the rate we’re going we’re going to have another container in less than a month. Demand is going up, now that the weather is getting warmer. Do you think you can get forty or fifty bikes in the next thirty days?”
“Let me worry about that,” I say, getting peeved again. I have never failed to deliver, but they ask that question every single time. Getting the damn container is always the problem, but you never hear anyone ask Sean if he can get one of those. “If you can get me a container, I can fill it.” I say, taking my jab at their attitude.
We each get a turn to talk and bring up concerns; but really, these meetings are non-events. We ship anywhere from eight to ten containers of Harleys every year. We’ve been doing so for years. We know what we are doing.
Once business is over we talk about other things. Everyone is looking forward to the ride and getting out of Savannah for a while to enjoy the weather. “I didn’t see your bike out there, Aubrey,” Danny says. “Or yours either, Charlie. Y’all not going on the ride today? The weather is supposed to be nice.”
Before Charlie can answer, I pipe up. I worked out our cover story on the way over. “Charlie and I came together in his car this morning. He asked me to tune up his bike for him before we start riding a bunch.”
Danny frowns, obviously troubled by what I said. “Why didn’t you do that last weekend when it was raining? You know we always go for a club ride after our meetings. It’s important that we do these activities together. It keeps us tight and gives us a reason to see each other than for business. You two never think ahead.”
“I just asked her this week,” Charlie says coming to my defense. “She didn’t know about it until yesterday.”
“I see,” Danny says. “I tell you what, we’ll drop by after we’re done here and you two can get your bikes. One ride isn’t going to hurt anything.”
“I don’t know, Danny,” Charlie says. “It’s running pretty rough since I rode it last. Not sure what’s going on. Besides, Aubrey came in her car so she could bring some tools.”
“Fine,” Danny snaps. “Just do what you want.”
“Stop being such a pisser, Danny,” I say testily. “This is the first ride we’ve missed in how long? I’ll get his bike straightened out and we’ll go next time.”
Danny’s attitude puts a damper on the whole meeting and we break up soon after. Danny leaves first. He hauls ass out of the parking lot and leaves everyone else behind. I love my brother, but he is worse than a little kid when he doesn’t get his way. I don’t know how his wife puts up with him.
“Thanks for backing me up,” I say to Charlie, as we motor back to his house to get my car.
“No problem. So does this mean I’m getting a free tune-up today?”
“It might, but you’re going to have to bring the bike to my house where my tools are.”
Charlie smiles. “Careful what you offer. I might take you up on it.”
Now that we are away from the DRs again, Charlie has reverted back to the way he was acting last night and this morning. “Charlie, tell me something.”
“What’s that?”
“What’s up with you and the DRs? It’s like you are two completely different people. If they could see what I’m seeing, well, I think things would be different.”
Charlie is silent for a moment, then he begins to speak. “I don’t know why I do that. I want them to like me. I want to belong; but it’s just hard to open up and trust them.”
“I don’t know what you mean. Trust them how?”
“I haven’t told anyone this, so you have to keep this between us, okay?”
I get a cold chill. “Okay, sure.”
“I never knew my dad. I think I’m the result of a one-night stand.” I open my mouth to speak, but Charlie holds up his hand. “Just wait. We never had a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of. When I was about eight, Mom put me up for adoption. Do you know how hard it is for an eight year old to get adopted? So, I bounced around from foster home to foster home. No one was ever mean to me; but, well, I just never had a place to call mine you know. Nobody I could trust.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say and I mean it. “That must have been tough.”
“Yeah. It wasn’t fun.”
“How many foster homes were you in?”
I can see Charlie thinking. “Four.”
“Four in ten years doesn’t seem so bad. I’m sure it was tough, but that’s like one every two years or so.”
“More like one every six months.”
“How can that be? You went in at eight and I assume you got out at eighteen, so…?”
Charlie smiles sadly. “I was moved around a lot at first. Not that unusual I guess. But then, I finally got settled into a home that I liked and they seemed to like me…”
“What?” I ask when he didn’t seem eager to continue.
“I got into some trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“The family had an older daughter. Three, four years older than me. She asked me to help her and… okay, look. Here’s the deal. I liked where I was at and they seemed to like me.
“I’ve always been pretty good with computers and Linda asked for some help, some computer help. She told me that she would have her parents throw me out if I didn’t help her steal some credit card information.
“I didn’t want to do it, but I was afraid of moving again. I had just started making friends, you know? I even reminded her dad, in private of course, it’s a good idea to ch
ange passwords every so often. But when she started hinting that I was, uh, taking an interest in her, I started to worry. So, I helped her.
“I got the cards, but we got caught. I took the rap and did a four year stint in juvie. It didn’t help that I had the prosecutor and the judge’s credit card number.” Charlie says with a sad smile.
“You stole people’s credit cards?” I ask in shock.
“It’s not that hard. Not if you know what you are doing. Especially when someone gives you the password. Linda’s dad worked at the bank. She got his password. He probably had it written down somewhere and she found it.”
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