by Anna Wild
“Okay.” Holly chirped. “You know, that reminds me… I heard some quite nasty comments about you today. The locals are really upset.”
“Nothing I can do about it.” He shrugged. His reaction made her eyes glint with amusement.
“You still have a lot to learn about how they think.” Holly replied in a voice deeper than usual, and a smile with a hint of change behind it. “If they ever found out about my gambling problem, they’d demand my head on a spike. You need to prove to them that you’re not some…” she paused, “…crazy, blood-thirsty beast. And I know just the way to do that.”
“I’m listening.” Jake was intrigued.
“We should throw a party.” Holly firmly suggested. “Obviously, it shouldn’t be tomorrow. Besides, the feds said your bar would remain closed for another 24 hours; we can’t do it on a weekday, anyway. What about Saturday night? It will give us enough time to print some invitations, maybe advertise it a little, too.”
“That’s a brilliant idea.” He commented, a happy smile spreading across his face. “Thank you – again.” Pulling her close, Jake brought her lips up to his mouth. Savoring yet another loving kiss, he sensed sparks of magic coursing through his body. He was falling for her, for more reasons than just her incredible kiss. With every passing day, Holly was proving to him that she cared about him and wanted what was best for him.
“Talk about caring. Talk about sweet. You make me feel like I’m on top of the world. The little stubborn cop is turning out to be a smart, thoughtful, sexy girl who’s always looking out for me. Thanks for being there for me, Holly. Thanks for giving my miserable life meaning…”
Chapter Fourteen
As Jake would quickly come to discover, Holly had a very good point. The locals turned their backs on him. Indeed, few of them visited his bar over the next few days and the ones who did were rather cautious, chattering behind his back and not staying in the bar for very long. Clay and his crew were the only ones who didn’t fail him. On the contrary, they went to his bar twice and stayed until the early morning, drinking and being loud as usual. Also, when Jake informed his friend about the party, he was delighted and promised that “The Golden Saviors” would attend it.
On the other hand, Holly did everything in her power to convince friends and family that Jake had nothing to do with Jensen’s murder. She talked to them on a daily basis, put up a commercial on local radio stations and even distributed flyers. By the end of each day, she was so exhausted that she and Jake only saw each other once, before Saturday night. Predictably, he didn’t like it, but, with all the stress weighing on his shoulders, he was too distracted to think about their relationship and was somewhat relieved that they didn’t meet as often.
The big night came and Jake was more stressed than ever. Holly attempted to reassure him, maintaining that everything would be okay, but he could not share her enthusiasm. It was already 9pm and his bar was still empty.
“Don’t worry,” she soothingly said in a mellow tone. “They’ll come.”
“Let’s pray you’re right,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “If this doesn’t work, I’m going to be out of business soon.”
Jake had only just finished his sentence, when the floor began to vibrate. Seconds later, the bar was rocked by the distinctive, deafening sound of multiple, Harley Davidson engine exhaust pipes.
“Clay,” he smiled and said to himself, “always true to his word.”
“You’re not going out of business, honey.” Holly winked at him. “Just have a little faith.”
“God damn it!” Clay yelled, as the rest of his crew and their girlfriends followed him into the bar. “A traffic jam in Adams? Now I’ve seen it all.”
“Hey, man. Thanks for coming. Did you say traffic jam?” Jake squinted at him.
“Yeah, baby.” Clay gave an emphatic nod. “The main street’s jammed. They’re on their way here. Come on, put some music on! This place is as quiet as a church!”
“I told you,” Holly grinned, brushing past him, as the biker stopped next to him. He then turned around to face his crew, as the guitar introduction of AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck” filled the air.
“Tall redhead, eleven o’clock;” Clay smirked, casting a sharp glance at them.
“Who is she?” Jake asked.
“That’s Jennifer, Tom Farris’ girlfriend.” Clay responded. “The one who wants to…”
“I remember.” Jake interrupted. Then, his friend leaned over closer to him and whispered in his ear:
“Bet you fifty bucks she’s going to stare at you.”
Jake bit his lower lip, in an obvious attempt not to laugh, as Jennifer seated herself at a table in the upper left corner. Her gaze rolled up his body, until she fixed it on his face. The two men burst out laughing, loud and hard. Clay poked his ribs with his elbow, as Jake giggled, clutching his forehead.
“What are you two laughing at?” Holly haltingly asked with a hint of curiosity in her voice.
“Your boy just lost a bet, deputy.” Clay chuckled, pointing at his friend.
“Men…” she whispered, starting towards the bikers’ tables.
“Clay…” Jake curled his index finger. “How can someone join the Saviors?”
“What?” The aging biker’s voice became high-pitched, as his eyes darkened with shock. “Why are you asking?”
“It costs too much to keep this place up and running.” Jake sighed. “I’m just checking my options.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Clay patted him on the back, clenching his jaw. “Meet me at my workshop tomorrow, right about noon. I have something I need to show you.”
“You got it.” Jake gave an appreciative nod.
“Now excuse me.” Clay smiled. “I’ve left my hoodlums alone for too long.”
“Have fun.” Jake returned the smile, as another, large group arrived at his bar. His friend was not lying. As the minutes went by, more and more people came through the door, filling his heart with content. He and Holly could hardly keep up with the orders. However, neither of them seemed to care. They were both in high spirits, smiling at each other.
More than two hours later, Jake scanned his packed bar. Overflowing with a sense of joy, he tried to find Holly’s face. After all, she was responsible for this. But unfortunately, his joy was short-lived when he noticed a familiar face: Allison. Plus, she was not alone; she was accompanied by a man. Not only that, but she was sitting on his lap, kissing him passionately, at a table against the left wall. Jake took a deep, cleansing breath, as his smile disappeared. His initial thought was to kick her out, but making a scene would not work to his advantage. He could lose his temper and people would not miss a chance to criticize him once more.
“They’ve been doing that since they got here.” Holly’s voice forced his gaze away from them. “I can’t believe the nerve on that woman.”
“Pathetic.” Jake grumbled, feeling his adrenaline rushing through his veins.
“She’s just trying to make you jealous.” Holly spoke in lazy tones. “Let them be.” Jake decided to take her advice; but, seconds later, he realized that he couldn’t. The stranger’s hands were sliding dangerously down Allison’s back. He cupped her ass through her skirt. Jake had had enough. He pushed Holly to the side and moved around the counter, ready to explode with anger.
“Achem…” He cleared his throat, standing over them.
“Hi…” Allison’s raspy voice and her mocking smile enraged him even further, as she looked up at him over her left shoulder. “I’m sorry; did we get out of line?”
“I don’t allow this in my bar.” Jake spoke in a firm, commanding tone, folding his arms across his chest, as if he was trying to intimidate her with his sheer size. Undeterred, the stranger let go of Allison’s butt and used his right hand to pull something out of his right pocket.
“Go away.” He groaned, tossing a hundred-dollar bill across the floor.
“Where’s that sweater you’re dating?” She scoffed, sending
his adrenaline into the ozone layer. Jake attempted to reach towards her, but he sensed Holly’s hands on his forearm, pulling him back.
“Don’t!” He complained, spinning around to face her.
“Remember why we decided to throw this party?” She used a strict voice.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Frustration was lingering in his voice.
“Everything, Jake,” she narrowed her eyes at him, “Everything; we need to be smart here. I’ll handle this.”
Jake obliged, still struggling to keep his cool. Holly’s confident steps brought her closer to Allison and her date, as the blonde got off his lap.
“The sweater…” Allison smirked, turning to her. “Nice to meet you… Not.”
“Skanks are not allowed in here, Blondie.” Incredibly enough, Holly’s voice was calm and steady. “Get out.”
“You fucking bitch…” Allison spoke through gritted teeth. Before Holly knew it, she slapped her hard across the face. Holly’s head was thrown back because of the violent blow. Everybody in the crowd went silent.
“Hey, Sheriff!” Holly cried, pushing her hair back off of her face. “Did you see that?”
“You bet your ass I did.” Matheson muttered, passing her by. “You’re under arrest for assaulting a police officer, ma’am.”
“You can’t do that!” Allison screamed, opening her eyes wide. “I’m a US marine!”
“I don’t give a fuck what you are! Face the wall!” Matheson roared in anger. “You assault one of my deputies? You spend the night in a cell.”
It was at that moment that Holly’s plan became clear to Jake. He couldn’t believe what she had done for him. Sheriff Matheson handcuffed Allison, as she mumbled gibberish. People began to chatter, whereas Clay put his hands together, nodding. One by one, his men followed. Within seconds, the crowd burst into a long round of applause. Jake looked at Holly, in a way that every young woman wanted to be looked at. His shadowy eyes were filled with love, as she approached him. He didn’t allow her to verbalize. Instead, he put his hands under her armpits and picked her up. A huge smile lit up her beautiful face, as a girly scream left her lips. She cupped his face in both of her hands, wrapping her legs around his waist. He brought her face up level to his, before pressing his lips against hers, as the applause grew stronger. Jake held her body tightly in his arms, relishing in her gentle, passionate kiss, as she stroked his face.
“Oh, you crazy little thing…” he said, in a low voice that was full of admiration, as he pulled her back into his arms. “What did you do?”
“I protected my big brute from a messy situation,” she teased, smiling down at him. “You really have to do something about your rage, you know that?”
“I’m sorry, baby,” Jake replied in a whisper. “I lost it. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“It’s ok.” Holly reassured. “To be honest, it took every bit of restraint I had to not slap her.”
“You did a lot better job than I did,” Jake commented, a hint of sadness in his voice.
“Let’s go have some fun,” she suggested, planting a quick kiss on the tip of his nose. Jake eased her down onto the floor, at the same time realizing that she had been right all along. Allison knew him too well. She had attempted to trigger his violent reaction, and she had almost succeeded. Had it not been for Holly, things would have definitely spun out of control. In essence, she had saved him from a major embarrassment and his business from closing.
“She’s not a woman; she’s an angel on my shoulder. What would I do without you, Holly? There must be a way for me to show you my appreciation. Not just sex or a fancy date. It has to be bigger: much bigger. I need some time, but I think I know exactly what to do.”
Chapter Fifteen
Despite his fatigue, Jake woke up in a fantastic mood. His relationship with Holly had been going much better than he could have ever imagined and the locals seemed to be willing to support him. Taking advantage of the unusually warm, sunny day, he drove to Clay’s workshop. Jake hadn’t regretted his words the night before. He had no way of predicting the outcome of his party, and he was unable to guess the locals’ intentions. In his mind, becoming a member of a motorcycle club was not the most prestigious job in the world, but it was a living. He liked the idea of joining. The camaraderie among members somehow reminded him of his career in the marines. However, the stiff look on Clay’s face had come as a major surprise. He was the one to suggest him becoming a member previously, and yet, for some reason, he didn’t appear to like that idea at all when he mentioned it the night before.
The stocky biker was waiting for him on the small driveway outside his workshop. He brought his car to a full stop close to Clay, as his friend hopped off his black Harley.
“Hey, man.” He cast a happy glance at him. “Get out of that boxy piece of shit.”
“Hi, Clay,” Jake said with a nod. “You said you wanted to show me something. What is it?”
“That,” stated Clay as he pointed down at an electric-blue Harley, parked just a few feet away from them. It shone under the bright sunlight. “What do you think?”
“It’s a beautiful machine.” Jake commented.
“Machine;” Clay’s hoarse voice was dripping with sarcasm. “It’s only a machine until you ride it, pretty boy. Then, it becomes part of you. You know why? It’s got a soul. Now, get out of that car. We’re going for a ride. You know how to ride, don’t you?”
“I sure do.” Jake said, stepping out of his car. “I’m a little rusty, but I think I’ll manage. Where are we going?”
“To the summit,” Clay responded sharply. “It’s short, I know, but this particular ride helps me clear my head. The key’s in the ignition.”
Intrigued and delighted by his friend’s idea, Jake mounted the beautiful motorcycle. He picked up the black helmet from the handlebar and put it on. The ground vibrated, as the powerful engine roared into life. The telltale sound of the Harley ripped through his ears, raising every hair on his body. Jake rode off, following Clay, feeling the freezing wind against his skin. He couldn’t help but smile to himself. Riding that motorcycle gave him a sense of freedom, unknown to him up until that point. He had owned two bikes in the past, but neither of them compared to it.
“Maybe it’s the exhaust pipes. Maybe it’s the position of the handlebars or the power of the engine. Or maybe it’s what Clay said. This bike’s got a soul. It could be all of the above, I don’t know. All I know is that it would be amazing to ride this baby every day. She’s pretty: she’s comfortable; she gives me goose bumps.”
Jake began having a state of wonder: the feeling became much better and more intense, when the two men left the town of Adams behind. They had a perfect chance to speed up the narrow, mountain road and they didn’t let it go to waste. With the air beating against his face, Jake leaned more and more on the throttle, stealing glances at the landscape around him: snowy, balsam fir trees; red spruce; and river valleys underneath Mount Greylock. The two friends took the last, windy hairpin. A few seconds later, Clay rode across a rocky ledge, slowed down and eventually stopped, a few feet away from the edge.
“Look at that.” He pointed down at the scenery, pulling his helmet over his head, as Jake’s Harley rolled to a halt. He turned it off and dismounted it, gazing out at the breathtaking view. The snowy forest on the mountain slope and the few river valleys at the bottom literally blew his mind. The sun shone on the snow, with the scent of wet soil lingering in the air. It was so peaceful and tranquil that Jake’s ears picked up the sound of a tiny stone, rolling down the edge of the cliff.
“There’s only one word for it,” Jake’s baritone tore the silence, “Majestic.”
“I call it ‘the end of the world’,” Clay said with feeling. “No more roads, no more people, no more problems.”
“Why did we come up here, brother: for the view?” Jake wondered, a touch of irony in his voice.
“Believe it or not, the view is a great reason to ride a
ll the way up here.” Clay spoke his mind. “Did you know that you can look into five different states from the summit? You’re right, though. We didn’t come here for the view. What you said last night got me thinking.”
“I was a little surprised by your reaction, Clay,” Jake confessed, a hint of disappointment in his tone. “I thought you’d be happy to have me on board. I mean, that’s what you said the other day.”
“Did you notice the pictures on the living room wall; especially the one on the left?” Clay asked.
“Yeah,” Jake nodded. “Who are those people?”
“Fallen brothers,” Clay lowered his head in sadness. “Did you see how many there were?”
“Quite a few, I think.” Jake sighed.
“Thirty-six,” Clay declared. “The oldest was 41 years old: the youngest only 23. Is that what you want for yourself?”
“No.” Jake shook his head, as dark sorrow filled his eyes. His friend’s revelation had shaken him to his very core.
“It’d be great if you joined. It really would.” Clay’s voice was bass-deep, with a hint of change behind it. “We’d have tons of fun, we’d go to bars, find ourselves some women, get wasted… You’d like the guys. They’re all pretty crazy, wild, some of them can’t think straight, but they’re good. I’m sure they’d like you, too. You’re a standup guy. But, you wouldn’t like the responsibility that comes with this.” He pointed at his leather jacket.
“Care to elaborate on that?” Jake requested.
“Well…” Clay gave a snort of amusement. “I don’t know where to start. I founded this club back in 1992. Everything was pretty great at first. You know, some guys just hanging, going on road trips on weekends. But then, a couple of these guys were laid off from their work. They were broke. We were close; we wouldn’t let them or their families starve. We started to steal. And we couldn’t stop. In 1996, we entered the guns trading business: lots of money, but a shitload of responsibility. You see, the IRA supplies us with guns, and we pay for them in advance. We sell those guns to gangs: Mexicans; blacks; Chinese. They all want them. But, if their business is bad, they can’t buy. We’re stuck with them and the IRA doesn’t give refunds. That’s the financial bit. Don’t get me started on the gang-related shit. We’ll stay here for hours.”