Scenic Route

by D. D. Prince

  “Joe showed up at my brother’s apartment,” I explained.

  She said nothing, evidently well-aware.

  “I ran outta there and drove to Jenna’s and Spencer was there. He brought me here. He has my keys and my phone is in his room, though.”

  “In his room?” Ella asked, trying to hide a smirk (and failing. Badly).

  “Long story,” I waved my hand dismissively.

  “I’ll text Dad to send a car over.” Ella’s dad, Rob, was partners in ownership of the local cab company with Deke Valentine and their office was a few blocks away. If Ella hadn’t been at work yet, that was where I was headed next.

  “Bronto beat up Joe,” I told her.

  “I heard.” She looked up from her phone, but her fingers kept moving on it.

  “And I went to sleep in Spencer’s bed alone because he said it was safe for me to do so and woke up and he was in it with me.”

  Her eyes widened, her mouth dropped open briefly, then she asked, “You fucked him?”

  I shook my head.

  “He didn’t try to sleep-fuck you like Rider did to Jenna?”

  I shook my head. “Thank God, no. I’d have gouged his eyes out.”

  Jenna and Rider didn’t have an easy start to their relationship. They were blissfully in love now, but there was a time she wanted away from him with a passion while he was relentless in his pursuit of her. Though, he did it while guarding her to keep her safe from the enemy MC who was threatening to rape and murder her.

  But, she claimed she woke up one morning hating Rider and finding herself smack dab in the midst of an orgasm. This, I couldn’t see. And I was a deep sleeper. As deep of a sleeper as I am, I could not imagine sleeping through sex.

  Yeah, Rider was hot. I was figuring she probably faked sleep, so she could get her orgasm and then acted outraged to save face. She insisted otherwise, said she’d thought it was a dream.

  Yeah. Right.

  Ella’s iPhone made noise.

  “We’ve got ten minutes till Dad can get a cab here. The Valentines do seem to have a thing for climbing into bed with women and then staking a claim to them.”

  I sat down on the side of her desk. “He’s staking nothing with me.”

  “What’d you say to him?” she asked.

  “I snuck out as soon as I opened my eyes,” I told her. And then I filled her in quickly on everything that’d happened from the night at the bar and the kiss to that morning where I’d gotten into an argument with Bronto.

  “Everyone knows Bronto’s got the hots for you. He does a terrible job of hiding it,” she informed.

  “This isn’t news to me,” I told her. “Even Joe joked about it.”

  “But, for him to go into a rage like that, it was about trying to protect you from Joe. All the guys wanna skin him alive.”

  I scrunched up my face and took a sip of coffee.

  “But as for Spence … you could do worse.” She sipped her coffee.

  I gave her a weird look. Not her, too. Ella was typically the sensible one.

  “I know, I know…” she waved her hand. “He was an absolute dick to everyone when we first met him. He was constantly trying to stir shit up. But since Rider got shot, he’s been different. It’s like it woke him up. I dunno. I work with the guy every day. He’s a hard worker. Don’t get me wrong, he can still be an asshole sometimes. He has a definite chip on his shoulder, but he works hard, he’s great looking and comes from a good family, his mother the exception to the rule, and Pippa… the guy looks at me and Deacon, at Rider and Jenna, Scoot and Dee Dee with envy. He wants to be in love. And not joking when I say this: he’s had his eye on you a long time. This isn’t just that you’re suddenly available and he wants to pair off with someone in our friend group. Lulu’s single. Andie’s single. They’re both cute. And there are lots of women around, many of which who throw themselves at any guy in a cut. You get the picture. Jenna and I talked the other day about how he always watches you coming and going. Even dating back to the Fall when we met him. And he’s been hellbent for leather since that night when he found you bleeding in the alley.”

  A cab pulled in.

  “Gotta go.” I put my purse strap over my shoulder, downed my last mouthful of coffee, and reached over and hugged her.

  “I’ll see if I can get your keys and phone to you,” she said. “But knowing him, he’ll wanna deliver them himself.”

  I twisted my lips in distaste and Ella waved to the cabbie with a one second gesture.

  The cabbie came in. “Use your bathroom, Ella-bella?”

  She gestured toward the restroom and he headed down the hall.

  “I know it’s soon, Pip. It’s only been, what, a month, but would it be so bad to see if there’s something? There’s definitely chemistry between you two. I heard all about it on the dancefloor. Jen, Jojo, and Lu were picking over that dancefloor scene for hours yesterday when we all went to breakfast. And after you left the bar Saturday night, Jojo overheard the waitresses talking about you two being spotted kissing outside the roadhouse and they’re all saying you two look amazing together and griping that he’s probably off the market, that none of them had been getting any attention from him and no one has seen him with a bunny in over a month. Over. A. Month. Let that sink in. He looks at you like he’d do anything to protect you. These Valentine boys… they’re protectors.”

  “You’re not helping.”

  “What do you want me to say?” She was smirking at me.

  “That I should swear off men for at least the next year while I find myself again, because Joe’s addiction stole me away from me. That you’ll help me ward off Spencer and any other biker who’s interested in me. That you’ll recruit Jenna, Andie, Dee, Lulu and anyone else to help. C’mon, you’re supposed to be the sensible one of the bunch.”

  She smiled. “I’m rooting for you. You. Whatever you need, you let me know. All I’m sayin’ is that Spencer is showing signs of maturity these days. And that could mean good things for whichever girl he gets in his sights. You’re there, in those sights. You were for a while, but he couldn’t do anything because you were taken. Now you’re not. And he saw you get hurt and it’s triggered the VPR. He has taken himself off the market since you got hurt. What does that tell you?”

  “VPR?”

  “Valentine Protector Response. Trademark. Me and Jenna are trademarking that. You want in, you gotta get with the third Valentine brother.”

  “Yeah, but, if I gave it a whirl and it went wrong, that’d make things awkward and he’s related to your boyfriend, Jenna’s boyfriend, so I’d be the one who has to find a new group of friends.”

  Her smirk vanished. “No way.” Ella shook her head vigorously. “He screws up, he’d be the screwup and every one of us would take your back, including Deacon and Rider.”

  “I can’t even…” I thrust my hands into my hair. “A month ago, I was living with a guy I’d expected was not far away from popping The Question. I had mine and Joe’s future babies named already, Ella. I can’t go from that to being beaten black and blue and broken hearted, and then with another guy in the span of a month. Especially not a guy who is so closely tied to my best friends in the world. I need time. And then I need at least two rebound relationships before I get serious. I can’t use Spencer as a rebound. It wouldn’t be fair. He doesn’t deserve that. I would be the one you guys would have to ditch, because it’d be wrong of me to even go there.”

  She winced. “But Pip---”

  The cabbie came out. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said with a smile and headed out to his car.

  “Thanks for the coffee.” I hugged her.

  “Call ya later after I see him, see if I can get your keys to you. But, honest to God, you don’t have to have a rebound if it’s right.”

  I gave her a sad and skeptical smile. “Disagree with ya there, but thanks, girlfriend.”

  “Talk to you later,” she said softly.

  So, maybe it was an embellishmen
t. Things weren’t all sunset on the beach walks and flowers with romantic dinners for me and Joe the past few months.

  Right before he fell off the wagon in the Fall, not only with booze but with the addition of whatever else he was dabbling with, we’d been back together a few months and I thought we were free and clear. He’d be designated driver and never complain. We’d be at family weddings, other occasions where other people drank, and he seemed absolutely fine.

  And I made sure I wasn’t constantly dragging him to places with booze. I went out of my way to make sure it wasn’t in our lives constantly, that I often didn’t even indulge when our friends did, because then he wouldn’t be the only one not drinking.

  I thought he was my happily ever after. I would’ve bet every dime I had that he’d never fall off that wagon. But, then I’d have lost big. I did lose big. Because for the past few months, since he fell off that wagon and I found that bottle of booze in the kitchen cupboard that he lied about, saying it was his roommate’s, only to get caught red-handed the next day… I’ve been hanging on while slowly falling out of love with him, trying to tell myself I just needed to be there, love him enough to convince him to see it through. But, truthfully, when he picked his addiction over me last Fall, I started to slide out of love and into a sense of obligation. I caught him with LSD and magic mushrooms and a bottle of painkillers. He assured me it was nipped in the bud, that the booze was a thing of the past, just a slip, and no--- he wasn’t addicted to drugs. He’d merely tried to use them a few times to take his mind off his urge to drink.

  I started avoiding our friends and parties, so he wouldn’t be tempted with alcohol. Putting myself in seclusion with him. Watching him lose interest in all the fun things we used to do, stuff that didn’t even have anything to do with getting your drink on.

  And then when he beat the crap out of me, when I found myself on the floor, surrounded by mirror shards and blood-stained cocaine all over my knees, reality set in. Joe and I were done and maybe we’d been on our way to done for the last few wasted months.

  ***

  A cab driver dropped my phone off to me at 12:05 at the salon.

  “Do you have my keys, too?” I’d asked.

  “Nope. Only got told to drop that,” he replied with a shrug.

  I twisted my lips in confusion.

  “Gotta run.”

  “Wait. I’ll pay you.”

  “Doms took care of it,” he replied and left, waving at Deb, the other stylist.

  I checked my phone and there was a fresh text from a number I didn’t have a name attached to.

  “I’ll drop your keys off to you before the salon closes at 7.”

  Shit. Spencer.

  I wrote back.

  “Give them to Ella plz. She’ll get them to me.”

  He wrote back.

  “Nope. I’ll drop them off. See you at 7.”

  Shit.

  Me: “I’m not exactly looking forward to seeing you. I’m kind of pissed at you for telling me I was safe and then having you climb in bed with me. Not cool, Valentine. Give the keys to Ella.”

  He didn’t answer me.

  To send my phone without the keys? A very obvious attempt at a game, a game I wasn’t interested in playing.

  At 7, when he showed up, he’d be getting a piece of my mind!

  ***

  It was a busy workday and having no time in my head was exactly what I needed. But, at 6:50, just before closing, Penny Reardon barged into the back room at Jenna’s House of Allure, where I’d just finished up a pedicure, chatting with my client who was still in the chair, but we’d finished and were just yakking while her toes dried, and I packed up, hence the reason my door was opened.

  Penny’s face was red and puffy when she came at me with her fists.

  My client jumped from the shock and I tried to catch Penny, who was hitting me, not very hard, by grabbing for her wrists, but she was wild with anger, fists flying erratically with fury and grunts, so it was difficult to contain her. And then her head connected with my chin and her nails raked across my cheek and I hissed at the sting.

  Lulu and Deb were suddenly in there and it took them both to yank her off me.

  “You fucking bitch!” Penny hissed at me, trying to get out of their grasp.

  I heard the door chimes jingle and saw Spencer from the corner of my eye.

  I couldn’t pay any attention to him. I reared back, trying to catch my breath.

  “Penny…” I started.

  “He tried to kill himself last night,” she screamed at me. “He’s in the fucking hospital and it’s because of you! I hate you!”

  I froze. My mouth dropped open.

  “It’s your fault!” she hissed.

  Spencer stopped behind Deb and Lulu and his eyes were on me.

  Penny was still struggling against their hold, shouting, “He tried to talk to you and you wouldn’t talk to him and he took my grampa’s patch and left a suicide note. You did this to him. You! He just wanted to say he was fucking sorry!”

  “Pen…” I didn’t know how to finish. I was just… shocked.

  She dissolved into tears and Deb got maternal and put her arms around her. “He’s okay, though? He survived?” She pushed Penny’s dark hair out of her eyes.

  Penny nodded at Deb. She knew her. Deb had cut Penny’s hair since she was practically a baby.

  “Barely, but yeah. He coulda died, though.”

  “Pippa, go call Jan; I got her. Have a seat, sweetie.” Deb led her to my pedicure chair. “Lulu, get Penny a water, will you?”

  Lulu rushed out with my client and got her comfortable in a salon chair, so she could finish letting her nail polish dry, offering her a coffee.

  “Go,” Deb urged. I grabbed my phone and slipped out of my room into the main part of the salon, shooting a “I’m sorry” to my client, who waved her hand, looking concerned.

  Spencer’s eyes were on me and filled with concern, too.

  I shakily went to Jan’s contact details in my phone and called.

  “Pippa?” Her voice was scratchy.

  “Jan… Penny’s here at the salon and she came in attacking me and in hysterics. Is--- is Joe all right?”

  She choked up. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, Pippa. I’ll get someone to come get her. I’m at the hospital. Joey’s okay. He’s… he tried to…to…” Her voice broke and she sobbed.

  “Penny said,” I finished for her.

  There was silence on the phone. I held it and felt my shoulders start shaking. I looked up at Spencer now standing there. Right there, in front of me.

  He gestured for my phone and I frowned at him. He took my phone gently from me, and put it to his ear, putting his free hand on the back of my neck and giving it a reassuring squeeze. This somehow had the magical effect of making me face-plant into his chest. That free arm went tighter around me.

  “Jan? It’s Spencer Valentine. Yeah, I just happened to be walkin’ into the salon while Penny was goin’ off on Pippa. You want me to get her brought to you? Lulu or Deb from the salon can probably drop her…” He trailed off.

  “Yeah, no problem,” Lulu whispered from beside me.

  He continued, “Lulu’s gonna bring her to you. Where? Your place? Yep. No problem. How’s he doing? What happened?” He listened for a minute. My face was still in his chest, inhaling the fabric softener of his shirt. He was rubbing my back as he listened. “Okay, yeah, no problem. All right. Bye.”

  He ended the call and handed me my phone.

  I looked up at his face. He put both hands on my shoulders and started to speak.

  “He went to sleep on the couch with one of his grandfather’s Fentanyl pain patches in his mouth. Thankfully, Jan checked on him before goin’ to bed and saw the note propped on the table. She shook him, and it fell outta his mouth. She called an ambulance and they got him looked after.”

  I was trembling and shuddering, clenching his jacket with my fists, my face buried in his shirt opening. His hand was in my
hair. I felt him kiss the top of my head.

  Somehow, he and I kept winding up skin to skin.

  “Lu, can you go grab Pippa’s bag and coat? I’ll get her home. You guys got Penny? Pippa’s customer?”

  “Yeah, man,” she said softly, then I felt another hand land on my shoulder, giving me a squeeze. I looked up and Lulu let go of me and was moving past us, into my work area.

  Lulu was quickly back, handing me my stuff. I apologized to my client again and then Spencer led me out of there and out front, where his pickup truck was parked. He opened the passenger door.

  “My car…” I started, as I climbed up.

  “Don’t worry about it for right now,” he answered, shut the door, and rounded the vehicle to get in the front seat.

  I couldn’t stop crying. I cried all the way to Phil’s apartment.

  Attempted suicide with drugs? Should I have talked to him?

  So much for being clean for 30 plus days.

  What was in the note?

  We were already miraculously parked at Phil’s apartment like I’d been in some sort of time warp.

  “Should I go to the hospital?” I asked aloud, to the windshield.

  Spencer turned the truck off.

  I looked at his face.

  “No. You shouldn’t.” His eyes were hard.

  I realized I was ugly-crying. Shoulders shaking.

  “I don’t wanna go up there and be buh-by my suh-self,” I told him, gesturing to the building.

  “Wasn’t gonna leave you by yourself, baby,” he replied, softly. “Was gonna come sit with you, sleep on your couch.”

  I blinked at him and dashed tears off my face with the backs of my hands.

  “But, I sleep on the pull-out couch. I don’t have anywhere for you to sleep.”

  He flexed his jaw muscles.

  “Should I go to the hospital? I have a restraining order; I can’t go to the hospital. Right?”

  He started the truck up again.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I can take you to your parents.”

  I shook my head. “Absolutely not. I can’t hack that right now.”

  “I can drive you to Jenna and Ride’s, D and Ella’s, or I can take you to the clubhouse,” he offered.