by Max Henry
Carlos bought a cell for me in the days following Papa’s funeral. He said it was in case of emergency, but what I think he really meant to say was in case he needed to track me down. I’m not stupid—just because I chose not to have one doesn’t mean I don’t know how they work.
I tried to call Mama at Papa’s funeral. Aside from a shady man in a pleather jacket, Carlos, Sully, and I were the only people to attend. The pastor said the few standard lines, and then Papa’s coffin rolled away to be cremated. Nobody shed a tear. I tossed the ashes the following day at a national park, hoping he’d at least be happy they were spread somewhere beautiful. I just didn’t want to have to carry them around like he meant something to me when he didn’t.
“I have your bag here.” Maria gestures to my purse, slung over her arm.
We’ve become friends, as much as our unusual relationship will allow. We bonded over mutual interests: being held here with blackmail. For me, it’s Mama. For her, it’s family too. Turns out, Maria owes a few people who owe Carlos, and this is her repaying both debts.
“Thank you.” I scoot across the back seat of the Escalade and step out into the warm sunshine, bagging my compact after she hands me the purse.
Maria waits to my left while our escort, Sully—I hesitate to call him a bodyguard, considering he’d shoot me as soon as save me—closes the car door and locks it.
“Where should we start?” I look down the line of Ma-and-Pa stores that fill the street.
“I guess we start at the beginning?” Maria smiles and walks ahead to the first shop on the street—a used-book store.
She’s a pretty girl—petite, and with eyes that always seem to be smiling, no matter what hell she’s enduring. And there’s been plenty. I’ve seen Carlos bring her to tears for delivering a drink without enough ice.
She already peruses a bin of bargain books, fingers roaming the spines, when I enter the shop. The musty smell of old paper fills my nostrils, quickly followed by the sharp tones of Sully’s, aftershave.
“You can wait here, you know.” I look up into his lifeless brown eyes. “You don’t need to follow me everywhere.”
The man-mountain doesn’t say a thing. Just shadows me two steps behind as I walk down the aisles to a section with the classics. I lose myself in the selection, excited that I could buy as many of these as I wanted thanks to Carlos’s money. Enjoying anything of his leaves a sour taste in my mouth, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to deny myself the simple pleasures for the sake of trying to make a point to a man who couldn’t give a fuck either way. These past two months I’ve been bored to tears. His house has an empty library in it; rich timber bookcases line every wall, recessed to sit flush with the windows and doors. Ten points for guessing what I plan to do with them.
With an armful of books, I reach above my head to get a copy of Little Women from the top shelf. A heavy hardback slips from the tower in my left arm and crashes to the floor, crippling my toes in the process. “Damn it.”
“Can I help you with that?” The blonde woman to my right startles me. I never saw her come into the shop.
I glance across to where Sully now leans on the counter, talking to the old man who runs the place, while he watches my every move.
“Sure. I’d really appreciate it.”
The woman bends down to pick up the strewn title, and my eyes rest on the stitched patches that adorn the back of her vest. Fallen Aces, Fort Worth, and most obviously in the center, Property of Mike. My heart comes to a grinding halt, my breath hitched somewhere in my throat.
King. Is he here? What are the chances? I lost the card with his number on it the day Carlos took me from Papa’s. Sully went back as promised and got most of my things, but he wouldn’t have thought to look where I’d hidden the card between the kitchen drawers. Even if he had, I wouldn’t have wanted him to find it.
What kind of trouble would that have caused?
The blonde woman straightens and holds the book to her chest, smiling. “Can I help you carry them to the counter?”
“There was just one more.” I point up to the elusive copy.
“Oh, no problem. Wait here.” She turns away and walks to the shop front where she whistles loudly.
A man appears on the sidewalk, tall and built so solid that he has to twist slightly to make it through the narrow front door of the shop. He walks in, boots clunking on the hardwood floor, and after exchanging words with the blonde woman, follows her to where we stand.
Yet again, I’m mesmerized by the tag stitched to the front of his vest: Fallen Aces.
Sully materializes at my side. “What’s going on?”
“I’m getting help to reach a book,” I snap.
He grumbles, his arms crossed as he watches this enormous biker come to a stop on the other side of me. The man has dark, messy hair that compliments the beard he sports. Plugs adorn his earlobes, and tattoos peek from under his sleeves and neckline. His skin is weathered, his eyes hard, and his apparent feelings toward Sully are as dark as his attire.
“Sonya said you needed help reachin’ something.” His voice is a rich baritone.
“Little Women.” I point to the book that’s become the Holy Grail, sitting on the top shelf.
He extends an arm covered in leather cuffs, and plucks the material-bound copy for me. “Ma’am.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re a good man, Hooch.” The blonde woman, who he named as Sonya, slaps him on the chest with her palm. She turns to look at me, and nods. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
I stand dumbstruck as she crosses to the counter, places her cash down, and picks up a bag of children’s books the old man passes over. The dark and dangerous newcomer, Hooch, looks across at Sully a final time before they disappear onto the street.
“You need help again, you let me know.” Sully scowls after the two good Samaritans.
“Whatever.” I brush past him as Maria comes dashing around the corner of a trestle table to join me.
“Are you okay?”
I hold Sully’s angry glare as I answer her question. “More than okay. Turns out there are actually some half-decent people in this world.”
***
Twenty minutes later, and Maria stands beside me while we watch Sully load the books into the back of the Escalade. “Señor is going to be shocked when he sees how many we bring back.”
“His library is nothing but bare shelves, Maria. He should be thanking me for making it a little more welcoming.”
Sully slams the back door closed and wipes his shirtsleeve across his brow. “It’s hot out. How about I walk you ladies down to the store there to get a couple of cold drinks for the drive back?” He points to a corner store that has placards advertising ice cream, cool Coke, and slushies, crowding the pavement.
“That’s such a nice thing to do,” I tease. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
I swear I almost had him. Those thin, hard lips twitched.
“Come on.” He jerks his head toward the store.
Maria waggles her eyebrows as we walk ahead of him, always in his sight. The moment has such a touch of normalcy that I allow myself to smile and enjoy it. The past two months have been spent living on a knife’s edge, wondering when Carlos is going to flip next.
Every night we eat at opposite ends of the gigantic table in his dining room, and every night our conversation after the meal goes the same way. He asks, “How did you enjoy the food?” to which I always reply, “How is Mama?”
He never answers. My stomach turns the same as it does every time I think about what that could imply. The smile slips from my face.
“What would you like?” Sully opens the fridge door and pulls out a Red Bull for himself.
I clear my throat, realizing I’d followed Maria in here in a blind state, daydreaming about Mama. “Dr. Pepper, cherry.”
Sully takes the lemonade Maria’s selected and heads for the counter to pay. The small shop stifles me, the space to move not see
ming nearly enough. I move from one corner of the open floor to the other, and still my unease grows.
Thoughts of what might have become of Mama fill my head. I’ve been trying so damn hard to deal with each day as it comes that I never have thought what would happen when it all catches up to me—when I realize just how fucked I am.
What happens after Carlos has got Mama to the States? Does he use us for whatever we’re worth and then dispose of us like a dirty napkin? Is there a time limit on my life? Surely I didn’t really believe he’d just keep us around until I’m old and gray. You’re so damn naïve. How long did I think this fraudulent marriage would last?
I leave Sully sorting his change, and Maria flicking through a gossip magazine to step out into the fresh air. The sun hits my face as I stop on the edge of the street gutter and I close my eyes, sucking in two huge breaths.
“Elena?”
My heart slams into my ribcage and then stutters. “Yes?” He was with them. I open my eyes to find just as I’d suspected, the clearest green staring straight back at me. “King?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Shopping.” I frown. “You?” He’s every bit as enticing as I remember. Damn, I’ve missed him.
He jerks a thumb to the four motorcycles lined up over the street. “Riding home with a couple of brothers from down south.”
I rub the heel of my hand into my breastbone and try to alleviate the pressure. “It’s good to see you.” It’s better than good; it’s thrilling.
I need to tell him what’s happened, why finding a chance to meet up with him has got a hell of a lot harder.
“How’ve you been?” He leans a shoulder into a light post, his eyes roaming my body. I’ve never felt more naked while fully clothed in my life. Even worse, my body reacts and my nipples stiffen . . . he notices.
“Things have been complicated.” I cross my arms over my chest and glance to the shop where Sully pockets his wallet and reaches for the drinks. “I need to talk to you.”
“What—”
“I can’t now, though. Just wait here for a moment.”
“Elena!” Sully’s booming voice has me leaping to my toes.
My legs shake involuntarily. “Sully?”
“Get to the car. Now.”
King narrows his gaze on Sully and follows where he’s looking, to the Escalade. His frown deepens when he spots the emblem on the guard, his back going rigid as he straightens.
“In a minute,” I tell Sully sternly. “I’ve decided Maria and I need some chocolate.”
“Make it quick,” he grumbles.
I look across at Maria and smile. “I’ll be right out.”
She nods, backing around Sully a little to place him between her and King.
Sully looks between King and myself. “We’ll wait here.”
“Whatever.” I force myself not to look at King as I turn back for the corner store and rush inside, turning hard left to stand before the chocolate display.
My heart races, I’ve got seconds before Sully checks on me, tops. Thrusting my hand into my purse, I search the depths with frantic fingers. Got it. Yanking the pen out, I tear a corner off the price label on the shelf and scribble a quick message on the back.
‘I lost your number – here’s mine.’
Sully steps inside as I drop my pen in my purse and crumple the paper in my fist. “Do you think she’d like caramel, or nougat?” I ask nonchalantly.
His eyes harden as he takes a step toward me. “Hurry up, would you?”
“Ugh.” I snatch up two Twix bars and stomp to the counter. “You don’t have to be so damn grumpy all the time.”
My skin buzzes with the adrenaline coursing through me. Fuck, I hope I can pull this off. I hesitate while Sully leaves the shop, dragging out how long it takes me to pay the man. As soon as I’m clear, I slip a prepaid sim card in with the chocolate. The man behind the counter takes my cash and passes all three items over. I pick up the phone card first to peel off the label that displays the number assigned to it. Sticking it to the back of the price-tag note, I crumple both together, snatch up the Twix bars in my free hand, and exit the shop under Sully’s careful watch. Praying to whoever’s listening, I stop before Maria, aware King’s still leaning on the light post, but not chancing a look at him yet.
“I hope this is okay.” I pass her the Twix, dropping the crumpled slip of paper at the same time. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
King watches me intently as I glance his way and flick my gaze between him and the paper twice. If he’s cottoned on to what I’m trying to say, he’s hiding it well, because even I’m certain he’s missed the point.
Sully jams my bottle of Dr. Pepper roughly in my grasp, and then takes hold of my elbow to pull me toward the car. “Enough fucking around.”
I stumble blindly after him toward the vehicle and scowl as he releases me to pull his keys out and unlock the Escalade. Maria climbs in to the back seat beside me, and I hazard a look toward King. He stoops to pick up the paper. Thank God. Sully shuts the door behind us then rounds the car and gets in, starting the engine. I immediately lower the window, my gaze locked on the stitched picture that makes me think I won’t have to wait for King much longer.
The Fallen Aces patch, with the top and bottom rockers stating his club and chapter adorns his back as he straightens up and looks our way.
The man’s a prospect no more.
TWENTY-ONE
King
“Drink up. You’re supposed to be celebrating!” Hooch drops on to the sofa beside me, the shredded cover spitting out a few more spots of foam stuffing onto the floor. He bobs his head to the rock song blasting out of the speakers.
I should be celebrating—I got woken up this morning with a boot to the head and told to get my ass downstairs in a hurry. I expected to find the place robbed, rival MCs on our territory, or in the very least a fire.
Instead, I was presented with a fifth of Jack, a slap to the head, and a joint to celebrate being voted in as a patched member. Apparently Apex wanted it done before we hit the road today, hence the early morning wake up call.
Believe me, I’m over the moon. I’m honored beyond belief. But seeing Elena, seeing her fear, and seeing her get dragged off by one of Carlos’s men has kind of killed my mood.
I’ve been wondering how she is every fucking day, wondering why she never called. Guess her message kind of explains that. Progress being slow as it is around here, I had to push the thoughts of her down and bury them under my duties as a prospect just to keep my fucking head. She’s his—Carlos’s—and there ain’t a fucking thing I can do to change that until our club stops working for him.
We’d parted ways after disagreeing where our future was headed. I’d made peace with that, with my choice to stay loyal to the club’s best interests. And then we hooked up at the roadhouse. Fuck. I still get hard when I think about how risky that was. She got back under my skin and made herself at home there for the past three months. I’ve been going out of my head wondering how she is. Going crazy without any way to get in touch with her. And then I bumped into her at random, and I got a way to contact her. If that isn’t the universe giving me a sign, what is?
“I think I might hit the hay early,” I tell Hooch.
He pulls his head back and looks at me as though I told him I’m signing up for the police recruits. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” We rode all afternoon to get to Fort Worth, ready for our next run for Carlos. Fucking asshole that he is. “I’m tired, man.”
He grunts and nods. “If these fucks find out you bailed on them, you know what that means, hey?”
I shake my head at him. The Forth Worth chapter operates a little different to ours—a little rougher. Fair to say that when we come to visit, things get a little wilder.
“You’ll be expected to catch up with what they’ve drunk when you get dragged back out here.”
I rub a hand over the top of my head, ruffling the overgrown
lengths. “Might just take a walk around the compound then. Technically I haven’t bailed if I don’t fully leave the party.”
“Now you’re thinkin’.” Hooch tips his drink my way and then stands. “Cheer up, though. Whatever it is, it can’t be as bad as this next run will be.”
He’s dead right there. Next week is a big one. We’re moving one hundred kilos between Carlos’s distribution warehouse and a big-time buyer. It’s too much to take on the bikes alone, so we’re using the crash wagon to move most of it, and the bikes as back up.
I cut a path through the main living room and step out the back onto the lawn. The music is still loud, and the chatter too much. I need to think, and all this noise is doing my head in. I pull my cigarettes out and shake one from the pack, illuminating the night with my lighter. Yeah, quitting ain’t going so well.
The space between the old house they’ve converted to clubrooms and the garage is usually inhabited by couples looking for somewhere a little more private to fuck at these kinds of get-togethers, so I hook a right and head down the dark yard toward the broken-down shed at the back of the property. The lull of somebody speaking drifts on the gentle night breeze as I approach. I turn to leave, but the gravelly sound of a particular person has me ducking down to sit behind a bushy tree mere yards from the shed.
“What can you promise?” Apex asks.
I can’t hear anybody else, so he must be on the phone. But why down here? Why now when he’s supposed to be co-hosting a party?
“I need more.”
More what?
“These fuckers aren’t going to agree to that.” He sighs. “Yeah, I guess. Look, I just want assurance that we’ll get paid. I don’t really care who we piss off, to be fuckin’ honest.” A longer pause. “Pro rata. We renegotiate after each run.”
What the fuck is he setting up? I take a pull on my smoke, frowning as I listen to him wrap up his call.
“We get these next two out of the way and then you give me the dirt on Denver. After you come through with that and I’m fuckin’ satisfied it’s legit, then I’ll tell you what I want next.” He’s fucking negotiating with Carlos for more. “Yeah, I’ll call you then.”