by C L Green
“Nice car,” he mutters as he reclaims his coffee cup and drinks a sip. Looking at me with his tired, puffy eyes, I see they still hold an amused sparkle and the tips of his mouth are twitching slightly. “You gunna put those on?”
Realizing that I’m once again, in some stupid, frozen state, I nod and start getting dressed.
Watching me quietly as I struggle to maneuver the clothes on while sitting in the car, he sips his coffee. “It’s nice to see your blue eyes, the green are nice but your blues are nicer.”
“Shit, forgot about my eyes,” I mumble as I finally manage to haul the pants up under my bottom.
“You forgot a bit more than your contacts babe,” he chuckles again.
“Don’t fucking laugh at me,” I snap angrily at him. “If you hadn’t have gone off half-cocked I wouldn’t be in this pickle. And what. The. Fuck. I’m only worth one punch then you have a coffee to make up? What’s with that? Then again, strike that, I didn’t want you to hit him in the first place. Fuck it. Now I’m confused.”
I watch as his face straightens and he looks remorseful. “I hit Luke.”
“I can see that. How’d he stop you hitting him again?” I ask.
“He didn’t fight back. He looked genuinely shocked. Thank fuck. I had planned on beating him to a pulp.”
“Thank God,” I sigh as I slump back into the seat of the car. “And yay…”
“Yay?” I watch as he shakes his head at me, “What’s the yay about?”
“You thought me worthy of beating him to a pulp for,” I explain softly. Now even more embarrassed about the whole drama.
“You’re worth it,” he rumbles peering into his cup before he hands it to me. “Luke makes good coffee.”
“You don’t look like you need coffee. You look like you need sleep.”
Nodding he agrees. “True that.”
“I take it Luke explained we were playing pool last night and that we had dinner at Holders?”
“Yeah.”
Sipping at my coffee, I look out the window and finally take notice of Luke’s house. It’s a wide set brick veneer, close to the road that is flanked by two small paddocks of pasture. There’s some sheep with lambs and an alpaca grazing quietly in one of the paddocks. Having never seen an alpaca outside of the Royal Melbourne Show farm animal display before, I find the scene calming. Country living is a far cry from city life. Even the street is quiet. At this time of day in Melbourne, there would still be cars coming and going as people went to work, walked their dogs or jogged. In the country, people don’t need to walk their dogs, they just let them outside and to take care of their own business.
Swinging my attention back to Jake, I see his eyelids drooping as he leans back against the headrest on the seat. “We need to get you to bed.”
“Yeah,” he mumbles softly then yawns widely.
“Off you go, I won’t be far behind. I just have to wait for Emma. Please leave the shop front unlocked, I need a key.”
“Yeah, a key. We’ll sort that out later,” he announces as he opens the car door and slides out. “See you soon.”
Then with a click, he closes the door softly. I watch as he wanders slowly to his bike, climbs on, starts the engine with a roar and then pulls away.
Hearing the sound of pipes, Emma and Luke appear in the doorway at the front of the house again. Emma is now holding her own cup of coffee. Taking the last swig of Jake’s coffee, I climb out of the car and wander on my bare feet over to the house to hand Luke his mug. He is still holding the frozen peas to his jaw in one hand.
Frowning apologetically, I ask him to let me see the damage. Lifting the peas from his face, he grins and I wince. He has a dark purple bruise forming and a split to his lip.
“Shit…” I mumble and put my hand out to touch the bruise.
“Ah, ah!” He growls as he avoids my hand. “I’ve taken enough pain for you this morning, keep your mitts to your yourself.”
“God, I’m sorry.”
“No major harm done. I’m a big boy. He’s hit me harder than that before. Although those times, I probably earned it.” He grins at me again and I see his blue eyes flash dangerously. “I think we have plenty of evidence you need to talk to Jake, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I agree slowly chewing at my lip and flicking a glance to Emma who is giving me an ‘I told you so’ look. “He’s hit you before?”
“Don’t ask,” Luke mumbles as he pushes the frozen peas back against his jaw and reaches for Emma’s mug. “You might want to go and put some clothes on.”
“That would depend on what your plans are for the day. I can stay if you want,” Emma says cheekily, lifting an eyebrow to Luke.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Luke mutters as he steps back through his front door. “Then I’d have Zane on my doorstep as well. Give a man a break.” Closing the door behind him, Emma and I are left standing on his veranda, apparently we have been dismissed.
“Right then,” Emma announces, “it would appear that I will have to shop elsewhere to get me some biker booty.”
Shaking my head at her, we both head back to her car and drive home. The drive is far more sedate this time. Arriving back at the shop, we lock the front door behind us and both head back to our rooms. Emma advising she plans get changed and go for a run. I decide to return to my room and talk to Jake.
Stepping into the room, I find it is still greyed out with the curtains drawn. Even in the dim light I can see Jake however. His huge hulking body spread across the bed, he looks peaceful and is snoring softly. He has only managed to take his boots off before falling asleep exhausted.
Smiling softly, I head to the far side of the bed and watch him sleeping for a few moments. Sighing that we won’t be able to talk for a while, I grab the doona and sheet, roll it back over his body to keep him warm, grab some clothes and leave him to rest.
Chapter Eleven
Towball
I’m sitting at a table in the communal room sharing a cold chicken salad with Emma. It’s early afternoon and Jake is still out cold so Emma and I have spent the last hour chatting to a guy called Towball. Jambo is sitting on the back of a chair next to her happily eating a chunk of banana.
Towball is typical of the biker guys we have met so far. By this I mean that he spent his first ten minutes in the communal room ignoring us as if we didn’t exist. It was only with considerable coaching from Emma that he finally gave in to her charm and joined as at the table for a lunch time chat.
Towball, aptly named for his bald head, works his bald head look well. With icy blue eyes, a strong square jaw and a neatly trimmed goatee, he is another guy we can add to the hot list of men we have met in recent times. I can see that he has clearly caught Emma’s eye, because right now she has dragged her chair close up to his and she’s leaning right in to show him some photo’s on her IPhone.
Not that he hasn’t caught my eye as well. It’s just that after this morning, I am sworn off looking at anyone. I need to have my talk with Jake and clarify exactly what is going on between us before it gets us both into any more trouble.
Chewing on a chunk of lettuce, I break into their intense study of her phone to ask Towball a question that has been bugging me for a few days.
“Why isn’t there a television in the communal room?”
Tensing slightly, I watch as his eyes become even more icy and intense (wow) as he takes on a guarded look. “Jake took it out a few weeks ago.”
I should have seen that coming.
Go figure. He hid my face from me for a week to make sure the worst of it was over before I saw it. No doubt he thinks that keeping me from the television will achieve the same result. As time goes by, the news of my disappearance will eventually become old news. He also mentioned that Tony has been making some bullshit pleas to the public to help find me. I guess I don’t need to see that.
Or do I?
What can it hurt now? I’m moving on. I’ve already resigned myself to never going back to my old life
and the strongest feeling I now have for Tony is pure disgust. The fear is slowly receding every day that I spend creating my new life and learning to live it.
What could it hurt to see what the world thinks of my disappearance?
“Do you know where he put it?” I ask casually, still chewing on my lettuce as if it is of no importance.
“I’m not stupid woman,” Towball warns me gently, his face still guarded.
Damn, no use trying to play down my sudden interest in the television, Jake’s already made some sort of ruling on television viewing too.
“I know you’re not stupid,” I try to calm him slightly, “but I was just wondering if you knew where it went. I’m not asking you to go get it or anything.”
“You need to talk to Jake about the television. Not me,” he says dismissively, giving me a warning look.
Of course I do.
I have a lot to talk to Jake about but he’s not here right now is he? He’s sleeping and because he’s sleeping, he’s not talking. “Noted,” I mumble as I grab for some more salad and chew thoughtfully. “Out of interest – you’d know all about my… past – too? Wouldn’t you?”
I watch as he stares at me thoughtfully for a few beats and then swings his attention back to the IPhone and Emma.
“Not gunna answer that one either huh?” I tease gently.
“You ask too many questions woman,” he growls flicking me an annoyed glance from under his eyebrows as he leans in closer to Emma’s phone.
I watch as Emma pretends to fan her face and mouths the word ‘hot’ at me. I have to agree. That growl of his just sent a shiver down my spine.
Jesus.
Wondering if I should let the whole thing go, I stab a small piece of chicken with my fork. Staring at the small piece of meat for a few seconds, I put my fork down and decide to plow on. “I’ll take that as a yes. In that case – perhaps you could just answer me one question.”
I watch as he shakes his head and flicks me another annoyed glance. Seemingly resigned to my interrogation, he sighs and draws his interest away from Emma’s phone and leans back in his chair. Pinning me with an annoyed stare, I briefly consider not asking. But what the hell, you only live once? (Or twice in my case obviously.)
“Why does Jake trust all you guys so unconditionally? How is it that you know who I am but no one is worried, or – rather, seems to care about it too much?”
Running his tongue around his teeth, I watch as he reaches into a front pocket on his jacket to pull out a packet of tobacco. Sitting it in his lap, he pulls out a filter paper and deftly rolls himself a cigarette. I stare mesmerized, there’s a lot of skill in rolling a cigarette by hand. A skill that I have never had.
Putting the cigarette to his mouth, he then reaches into another pocket, produces a lighter and lights his cigarette. Taking a long drag, I watch as his eyes resume their intensive study of my face.
Yowzers.
“I’m gunna answer that one. The rest, you talk to Jake yeah?”
Sure!
At least it’s a start I suppose. Everyone is so cagey around here.
“We all owe Jake… and to a certain degree, Zane something. Those two brothers have done something for each and every one of us. They’ve earned our respect and they’ve earned our loyalty. We all have different reasons, but I can tell you there is not a man around here who wouldn’t do anything either of them asked us to do. And I mean anything. He’s also made it clear you’re part of his package now so we keep our mouths shut and do as he asks. Unconditionally. No questions asked. There’s also the fact that most, if not all of us, have our own pasts. Some even have current situations they don’t want anyone to know about so you are no different than any of the brothers who spend their time in this room.”
I watch as he pauses for a moment to take another long drag of his cigarette. The tip burning a dark orange as he sucks in heavily. Keeping his eyes on mine while he does so, he cocks his head to the side and seems to be deciding what to say to next.
Blowing the smoke back out slowly, he moves his attention back to Emma who has been sitting there silently the whole time. “The thing is,” he pauses again, and I start to think he has decided not to say anything before to my relief, he continues. “She looks and acts like she belongs here,” moving his eyes back to mine, “You don’t. I’m not sure you’re cut out for it.”
Huh?
What does that mean? Instantly offended, I no longer feel relieved that he kept talking. Instead I think I am now regretting hearing what he had to say.
Shit.
What the hell did he mean by that? If he’s referencing our backgrounds he could be in for a rude shock to find out that it’s quite the opposite. Trust fund Emma verses shit for nothing family Arianna. If either of us was more likely to end up living with bikers, it was always going to be me.
I think I’ve subconsciously always known this. It was the number one reason I stuck with Tony for so long. I’ve never held a huge opinion of myself, based on my mother and lack of father. Being with Tony felt like a safety net and no matter what he was getting up to behind my back, I always just assumed he was the best I was going to get and that was how it would be. If he hadn’t hurt me so bad and then tried to kill me I’d probably still be with him now. Even after finding out he made his living off women and guns.
Seeing the shock and irritation on my face, Emma enters the conversation. “She’s more cut out for it than you realize,” she murmurs smiling softly at me. “She’s tough. And ballsier than you think. She’s also capable of understanding and accepting more about a person than you think.”
Moving her attention back to Towball, I watch as her eyes harden to a dark silvery gray before she continues icily, “Her worst enemy however, is a lack of knowledge. People keeping secrets from her is what landed her here in the first place. You and your brothers might like to think about that.”
Holy shit.
Watching Towball closely, I hold my breath as I wait for it. The inevitable biker meltdown. Brief images of him grabbing her by the throat and head butting her flash through my mind.
Jesus Emma. You can’t poke a biker bear and not expect him to bite.
Instead, to my disbelief, he does almost the opposite.
He grins.
Then he nods slowly.
Then he slowly takes another drag of his cigarette as he stares at Emma thoughtfully for a while before he moves his attention back to me. Blowing his smoke out again and leaning forward, he moves his face closer to mine. I find myself staring without blinking into his ice blue eyes. His breath is whispering against my face and I can smell the strong scent of tobacco. I find myself experiencing a rare and sudden cigarette craving as he says, “If what’s she saying is true, one day, I might tell you my story. Until then, I’ll watch how you deal with Jake before I make any decisions.”
With that statement, he shoves his cigarette back in his mouth, pushes his chair back and stands. Moving his eyes away from mine dismissively he swings his attention back to Emma. “You. I’ve got a wife. She’s a cunt. She’s also the mother of my beautiful daughter so I’m stuck with her for my kid’s sake. If you’re ever looking for some action and you can keep your mouth shut, track me down.”
What the fuck?
He’s asking her to be his bit on the side?
Well that’s as straight up as it comes from a man. At first mortified that he would be so blunt and disrespectful to his wife, I quickly find myself softening slightly. At least he was honest about the situation and he cares enough about his daughter not to have an affair in front of her face.
Emma on the other hand is a lot more liberated than I am. “Sure,” she smirks up at him thoughtfully. “I’d be interested to meet the cunt first however. Work out whether I care or not if you know what I mean?”
“I’ll bring her in one Friday night,” he nods in acknowledgment, a hint of a smirk on his face. “You meet her, I reckon you’ll agree.”
With that said
, his face breaks into a huge grin and he turns and heads for the door to the garage. “Gotta go find Pops.”
Emma and I both stare at the empty doorway for a few beats before she moves her attention back to me. “Well that was an interesting chat.”
“You could say that,” I agree as I grab some more salad and start chewing again. “I guess I’m gunna need to harden the fuck up, yeah?”
“Yep,” Emma agrees as she too continues eating. “Does it bother you?”
“Not in the least,” I answer without hesitation. “New life, new rules. As long as I get the full story and I know that I can trust these people, I don’t give a fuck what they’ve done. Or do.”
“I figured that,” Emma smiles at me again before she continues eating her meal in silence. It’s not until we are both finished that she finally speaks again. “Time to find the television.”
Jumping up from my seat, I immediately agree. “I thought you’d never ask.”
*****
“Jesus, how many rooms has this place got?” Emma asks exasperated as we open another door to yet another room. We’ve already looked in six other small rooms. One turned out to be another bedroom (maybe Zane’s crash room) and the other five were all storage. All filled with locked cabinets and boxes. We have yet to lay eyes on a television. The place is a real live rabbit warren.
Both leaning through the door at the same time, our eyes hit an enormous flat screen television sitting on a low timber stand. Grinning, we both glance towards each and high five. “At least they’ve got a decent television,” I squeal with excitement. “I was expecting a ten inch, black and white portable with a set top box. I had already resigned myself to adding another item to my ever growing shopping list.”