Frozen Rain: Royal Bastards MC Anchorage Chapter

by Genovese, CM

  And everything went black.

  2

  Cassie

  From the moment I stepped off that plane and walked out of the airport, I was in love. I’d always heard people call women, children, and even possessions beautiful.

  “It’s the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen.”

  “What a beautiful car!”

  “Is that your new ring? Oh, my God. It’s beautiful!”

  Well, those people were full of shit.

  The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life was the snow-capped mountains that made up the backdrop of my new home. My breath hitched when the first blast of frigid air hit me and seeped through my lips and nose to fill my chest. I’d thought I’d felt butterflies once before, back when my high school crush met me in the school hallway with roses and an invitation to prom. He turned out to be a real bastard who’d heard I was easy because rumor got around that I’d given a guy a blowjob. The rumor was absolutely true, but it was my first, the guy was my ex, and I admittedly wasn’t very good at it because, you know, practice makes perfect.

  Anyway, those butterflies I felt back then must have been moths because standing there staring at the picturesque skyline in front of me at Ted Stevens Anchorage International Airport… now, those were butterflies. I was in awe. The view from the plane was amazing, but there was something about seeing these mountains from the ground. The sheer magnificence of God’s ability to paint landscapes like this one was humbling. It was then I realized how small I was in this great big world.

  And you thought Bob Ross was a true artist.

  Back home, in Lincoln, Nebraska, there were some pretty places, but nothing like this. For the most part, my hometown was flat. This… this was something on a whole other level. It was mesmerizing, and it helped me realize I’d made the right decision.

  Everyone thought I was crazy for doing this, but it was time I put my career first.

  The air outside the airport was crisp but it wasn’t unbearable. Spending more than a few minutes outside might change my mind though. I couldn’t see much from where I stood curbside just beyond the arrivals door, but I knew I’d be seeing plenty of snow soon, and I couldn’t wait to make my way through my new home city.

  “Cassandra?” a woman’s voice called out somewhere to my left, and I glanced over to see an older woman with red hair, cut in a sassy bob, bouncing my way. She was waving the way a mom might when trying to get her kid’s attention at after school, curbside pick-up. I half expected her to yell at me to look both ways before crossing the parking lot.

  This had to be Sue. She was my sponsor, the one responsible for picking me up, showing me around town, taking me to my apartment, and making sure I showed up for work tomorrow. It was one of the perks of working for a government-funded organization. I would be a social worker with AFTY: Anchorage Foundation for Troubled Youth. I could already imagine T-shirts with ridiculous slogans like, “If you thought these kids were in trouble BEFORE, just wait till you see them AFTY.”

  You’re a dork, Cassie. A total, one hundred percent nerd.

  I wore that brand proudly and could even do the Spock fingers to prove it.

  And you wonder why you’re single.

  I’d always been more Star Wars than Star Trek and more Dr. Who than either of the others. There had to be some great guys out there who would be into a girl like me but who would also rather spend time groping me than a video game controller. That was the real kicker, wasn’t it? How do you find a man who’s loveable, cuddlable, but also incorruptible every time a new first-person shooter hit the market?

  Not to mention, as much as I liked the nice guys, I had a wild spirit at times.

  The past is a bitch, and she always seems to come back to haunt me in the bedroom.

  How would my slogan go? Maybe: I need a geek in the streets but a beast in the sheets.

  That would work.

  “You must be Sue,” I said as my new best friend by default stepped up onto the curb and embraced me like a long-lost sister.

  “Cassandra?” she replied.

  “Cassie, please,” I insisted.

  Only my mother called me Cassandra. She usually added my middle name too. Cassandra Claire. The cheeky little bugger with the naturally auburn brown hair – sometimes silky straight and sometimes in unmanageable tangles, depending on the day. Oftentimes my hair was an asshole. Today, it looked cute enough, framing my pale face nicely and matching the light spray of freckles Mama always said was the dash of cinnamon God tossed into my mixture.

  Apparently, the good Lord was a fan of snickerdoodles, because that’s what my douchebag classmates called me all through elementary and middle school. Snickerdoodle Cassie. It wasn’t until high school that I finally let a guy nibble my cookie. Turned out, I was as sweet as he expected and a tad bit spicy.

  “You ready to get out of here?” Sue asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I replied. “I could stand here and stare at these mountains all day.”

  “Pretty ain’t they?” she asked, a hint of a southern accent it seemed she was trying to suppress seeped out. “We can stand here for a while if you want, or I can get you to your apartment so you can get settled. We can spend this Saturday driving around and checking out all the other scenic routes if you want.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “I figure you probably want to stop by a grocery store and pick up a few things.”

  “That would be great.”

  I’d packed as much as my two suitcases could handle, but I’d forgotten my deodorant and had ditched my toothbrush, a move that would force me to buy a new one. Shampoo and conditioner were on my to-buy list also.

  My assumptions about life in Alaska were quickly put to rest as soon as Sue led me to her Ford Escort. I’d imagined everyone driving big four-wheeler pickup trucks with chains on the tires. I’d been wrong.

  “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re finally here,” Sue said as we buckled into our seatbelts.

  “I’m excited to be here. I really hope I can do some good.”

  She didn’t respond, and when I looked over at her, I saw her only nodding her head.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing. I admire your positivity.”

  She pulled out of the parking lot. I would have been terrified taking to the recently plowed Anchorage streets. But not Sue. Her tiny car might have been little more than a go-kart, but she drove it like she was behind the wheel of a monster truck. At the first red light we came to, she downshifted and tapped her breaks as we slid softly a few times and grinded to a halt.

  My heart was in my throat. Apparently, I’d soon find out, hers was on her sleeve.

  “I really am glad you’re here,” she said for a second time since my arrival.

  The sun beat down through the windshield and, even though it was a bit chilly, with nature’s spotlight on me, I warmed up and felt comfortable there next to Sue. Outside, the snow alongside the roads was muddy slush, but the streets were relatively clean. They were only wet as if right after a torrential rain.

  Before long, we were zipping through Anchorage. We passed McDonald’s, Taco Bell, and even a Walmart. I could have been in Boulder, Colorado, for how normal everything looked. I’d done some research before arriving in Anchorage, of course, and it seemed life was a lot like anyplace else. Yet, the naïve, ignorant part of me refused to believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. I don’t know what I expected to see.

  Maybe Eskimos waving at me from the front lawn of their igloos.

  Elves sneaking away from Santa’s workshop to see the new girl in town.

  Polar bears taking a break from eating seals to watch as our car passed.

  You’ve successfully mixed northern Alaska with Antarctica and Santa’s North Pole.

  Small talk between Sue and me consisted of the kind of music we liked, whether or not we had siblings, and why we’d chosen Alaska. It turned out we both liked a good mix of music to include
everything from classic rock to country to even some rap. She had two older brothers, and I had no siblings. She’d come to Alaska as an active duty military member and had decided to stay once she got out. Her job, while in, was to help people leaving the military adapt and prepare for a civilian life. So, it made sense she’d take on social work once a civilian herself. I hadn’t chosen Anchorage. It had selected me. I’d filled out one of those online job profiles and had been contacted by email.

  “How honest can I be with you?” Sue asked.

  She was about to take our conversation out of the casual realm and into the much more personal. This was one of those fork-in-the-road moments. Take the left route and everything would be smooth. No personal lines would be crossed. The relationship would remain professional. Veer right and shit might go completely off-grid.

  How honest is this chick planning to get? I prefer Cream of Wheat over oatmeal honest? I use AA batteries in my vibrator honest? Or, there’s a body in my trunk and I could really use your help disposing of it honest?

  “Umm… brutally?” I said, letting it trail off as a question, because by the time I’d said that one word I was already wondering if it had been a smart one to use.

  “Oh, great. We’re going to get along swimmingly.”

  It was the first time I’d ever heard someone actually use that adverb. As she drummed up whatever question she had planned, or whatever info she wanted to dump on me, I briefly wondered where that even came from.

  Swimmingly. How do two people get along swimmingly? Did it come from synchronized swimmers, friendly dolphins, or divers forced to share oxygen when one of them ran out?

  A dork. See? I was a great big dork.

  “You said you hope you could do good here,” she began.

  “Yes.”

  “Anchorage is a beautiful place,” Sue informed me, starting out rather pleasantly, “but it definitely has its shady side too.” And here we go. I knew I felt a BUT coming on. “In many ways, this place is very much the Wild West of yesteryear. Look at how seriously people take fishing, for instance. You know what they call it? Combat fishing. If someone’s line gets tangled up with someone else’s, the knives come out. Lines are cut. If everyone’s lucky, that’s all that’s cut.”

  “Is this metaphorical?” I asked, trying to understand what this had to do with my job. Was there a chance I was going to get… cut?

  She laughed. “Not at all. I’m telling you this because you’ve left one world and stepped into another. You need to be careful here. With our job, we’re supposed to reach out and help troubled youth. This could mean simply homeless, addicted to drugs, or even those associated with violent gangs.”

  “I see.”

  And I did see. Hearing her talk about the violent side of the kids I’d been hired to help kicked up suppressed memories I hated dredging up. They were a part of me though, and they were one of the main reasons I was up here. I’d been hurt, badly, and rather than use it as a crutch, I decided I’d wield it like a weapon. Someone once took something from me. Since then, I’d fought to get back control of my life. I had it now. Nobody would take it away.

  I was young and I was small, but I wasn’t helpless. My best friend was the ol’ lady of an MC president, for crying out loud. I spent my free time throwing hatchets. It was one of my favorite things to do. I’d taken some martial arts classes over the years. I knew how to shoot a gun, chop wood, and I believed I could easily cut the line of the fisherman next to me if it came down to that.

  “Some neighborhoods aren’t wise to go driving around in,” she continued. “Especially at your age and with your looks.”

  “My looks?” I asked, a bit taken aback.

  “You’re a beautiful woman is all I mean. You need to be careful everywhere you go. When you get to be my age, nobody looks at you twice. You, doll, are going to get second, third, and fourth looks. The plus side to living here is the men greatly outnumber women due to all the military bases around. There’s always a fresh crop of young studs, but with that comes a fresh dusting of STDs, and if you’re able to dodge that bullet, you still have the single mom epidemic.”

  “Lovely,” I replied.

  What else was there to say?

  “Yep,” she went on. “Love ‘em and leave ‘em seems to be the manly creed around here. So, it’s all in the mindset, Cassandra.”

  “Cassie, please.”

  “Cassie, sorry. Word of advice. Have fun. You’re young. Don’t get caught up in love here. Not yet. Use protection, get on the pill, and I mean both. Do both. Whatever you do, don’t let your heart get wrapped up in some asshole unable to meet you halfway.”

  “Where is all this coming from?” I asked.

  Sue glanced over at me, taking her eyes off the road. When she looked back, she barely swerved around a car she would have hit if she’d kept her concentration on me even a second longer.

  “Wow,” she declared. “Guess I oughta keep my eyes on the road.”

  I laughed.

  “I’m telling you all this because I’ve seen and have been in some bad situations. A girl named Lauren moved up here, straight out of high school, to try an internship with her aunt in our department. She got caught in the wrong neighborhood at night. She was beaten, raped, and left naked in one of the parks.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” I said. “Seriously?”

  This wasn’t the inner-city slums of Chicagoland or New York.

  “She left shortly after. I’m telling you this so you know not to get too familiar with these kids you’re trying to help. You’re trying to help them for a reason. Because they went down the wrong path at some point.”

  She changed gears in the conversation quickly, taking it back to relationship advice, which was odd coming right after the news of Lauren.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” she asked.

  “No.”

  Not only did I not have a boyfriend, I didn’t have anyone even close to claiming that title. Every guy I’d dated recently had been a total douchebag. Real men were hard to come by in this day and age. Men would rather take selfies while entering a restaurant than open a door for their date. They’d rather chat on their phones than reach across the table and take a girl’s hand. Meeting somebody for the first time in person was becoming a rarity too. Everyone was obsessed with swiping right to make a match.

  I’d tried that type of dating once. The guy sure knew how to take pictures at all his right angles. His photos of “his” puppy were all taken with the neighbor’s dog. He smoked so much his car dashboard was speckled with cigarette ash and he drank until he passed out every night. We went on two dates before I hightailed it the hell out of that disaster.

  “Well,” Sue continued. “The guys will be all over you. So, be smart about it. As much as I hate to say it, you should only go after the military guys if you’re as able to disconnect as they are. If not, steer clear of ‘em. Stick to locals.”

  Somehow my sponsor had also become my mother. She offered good advice. How much of it was mandated by the state plan for welcoming new employees, I was unsure of. I supposed most of it wasn’t.

  “Are you married?” I asked.

  She laughed. “No. I was before. Never again. In fact… well… maybe I shouldn’t tell you this. You’ll think horribly of me.”

  “What? Tell me. You can’t do that. You can’t start and then stop.”

  “Fine. But not a word of this to anyone else. For some reason, I feel like I can trust you. I think we’re gonna be great friends.”

  I could feel that too. She had an honesty, a sincerity about her. My mom was never around much. She worked long hours and sucked at giving advice, so it would be nice to have a woman around who’d experienced some things and wouldn’t shy away from sharing her knowledge.

  “So…” I led her.

  “I have two boyfriends,” she admitted.

  “Whoa.”

  “But they know about each other. It’s an excellent set-up really. If you can get som
ething like this going, I definitely recommend it. Thomas is a Master Sergeant in the Supply Squadron at Elmendorf. We’ve known each other since I was enlisted. He travels a lot. When he’s in town, I’m his. Gary runs security at the arena. He’s busy as hell most of the time, and I’m not naïve enough to believe he doesn’t fuck some of the hot ring girls or fans or whoever the hell he wants, really. He’s a silver fox. Whenever Thomas isn’t around, I’m with Gary. They know about it and they’re cool with it. They’ve even met. Gary was a base cop back when I was enlisted. So we all used to party together.”

  “Party together.”

  “No, not like that,” she squealed and slapped my leg.

  It was like we’d known each other forever.

  “So, who do you belong to now?” I asked.

  “I never belong to anyone!” she insisted. “I must have explained that wrong. They belong to me.”

  We both laughed.

  “Well, nobody belongs to me,” I said.

  “Not yet, but you’re with the master of puppets right now. You’ll be getting yours in no time. Just remember what I said.”

  I was already drawing a blank. She’d said a lot.

  When I remained quiet too long, she filled that silence with, “Both kinds of protection, dammit! Listen to me, girl. Condoms and the pill.”

  “Got it. Since you’re speaking so frankly, can I do the same?” I asked.

  “I’d hope so,” she replied. “We’re gonna be best of friends.”

  “You are fucking awesome,” I said.

  And I want to be you when I grow up.

  She looked back at me and grinned. “I love you already.”

  After stopping by the grocery store, we drove onto a street that ran alongside the highway. Finally, we pulled into the parking lot of a three-story, drab brown apartment complex with a green dumpster outside.

  “This is us,” Sue announced.

  “You live here too?” I asked.

  “Of course. That’s why I got you this apartment.”