by April Lust
“What was that about?” Olivia asked.
“Fucking loser,” Xander muttered. “I kicked his ass a few times last month and he’s still fucking whiny about it, apparently.”
“What did he do to deserve it?” Olivia asked.
“He was annoying,” Xander said, shrugging, as if that explained it all away. Olivia sighed deeply, preparing to launch into a lecture as to why unprovoked violence was wrong.
But just then, the roar of motorcycles washed over the bar, and a half-minute later Xander’s boys walked back in, carrying huge parcels in front of them. The other bikers cheered in response, hopping off their barstools to open the parcels and check the contents within. Jesus Christ, what am I doing? Olivia thought. I’m here witnessing a drug deal and I’m just letting it happen. But despite everything, all her professional acumen, all of her ethics, she felt a flutter of excitement in her chest. She’d seen her clients and parolees high before, of course, but she’d never been in the same room with drugs. It was almost like seeing a unicorn. She felt her heartbeat pick up its pace, and not just out of nervousness.
Xander leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You want some?”
Olivia reared back, her heart now pounding in her ears. “Are you serious?”
His expression changed suddenly, melting from teasing to serious. “No. I’m not gonna give you any of that shit.”
“Oh, I, um—I wouldn’t want any, anyway,” Olivia rushed to say. “I don’t—I don’t do that kind of thing.”
“That’s what everybody says,” Xander said, and his voice sounded sad, but he turned to face the biker leader again, leaving Olivia to just wonder where the hell she’d gone wrong again.
“We can get more for you in a month if you need it, at the same price. Just let me know,” Xander said, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched the bikers grab packets and cheer.
The stout man, the biker leader, leapt forward and hugged him, encasing Xander’s entire torso with his long arms. “Oh, Xander, boy, it’s so nice to see you back.”
Back from where? Olivia wondered before she realized what the man meant. Xander was acting like his old self, not the grunting, shrugging mass of apathy that had been fucking up constantly over the past few months. He’d even let that aggressive guy off with a scowl rather than beating him up. Maybe he did better when he was being observed by somebody not in the gang. Or maybe he’s trying to impress me, Olivia thought before scolding herself again. It’s not like that. You’re not dating. It was becoming a little disconcerting, how often she had to remind herself of that.
Olivia stood in the corner, pretending to be lost in her own mind while she watched the Immortal Souls chatter excitedly with the other bikers. It was like these big tough men had just received barrels full of sugary sweet candy, giddy like five-year-old boys. It made her smile to herself, but maybe that was the alcohol getting to her head again.
After another few minutes, though, the bikers separated back into their own gangs, Xander’s boys slowly filing out of the place. But the stout man and Xander were still standing close to each other. Olivia could tell by the movement of Xander’s mouth that they were speaking quickly, but their voices were so low she couldn’t make out a single word even as the bikers quieted down. Olivia just alternated between watching Xander’s face and focusing on the bright pink neon sign that hung in the opposite window. The Immortal Souls’ place was more rustic, full of creaking, probably leaking wood. There was no glitz or glam to it. Olivia thought she preferred the Souls’ way instead. It felt honest, somehow, like they weren’t trying to fool anybody. They were bikers, and they weren’t trying to hide it.
“Brennan!” Xander yelled, breaking her out of her reverie. “We’re leaving, come on.”
Olivia smiled at the stout man as she walked past. “It was nice meeting you,” she said.
The guy grinned back. “It’s good seeing him with a nice girl, you know. You keep it up, babe.”
Everyone in this little world seems to be concerned with Xander’s love life, she thought to herself. On one hand, it struck her as very odd, almost foreign. To Xander, it was probably suffocating, how everybody in his social and professional circle was so attentive, so judgmental of his every choice. But on the other hand, it was…nice. It was like having this huge extended family, where everybody was invested and everybody was happy to see you do well. Everyone had apparently noticed how Xander was behaving, how badly he was doing, and they noticed a change in him today. Olivia filed away that piece of information for later. She would analyze it more when she had time, when Xander wasn’t rushing her onto the back of his bike and pulling away from the bar.
“You shocked about our little deal back there?” Xander yelled over the sound of his bike’s engine.
Olivia took a couple seconds to register what he said, more concerned with how the stronger wind was pulling up the back of her skirt, probably revealing her tiny underwear to the cars that followed them halfway down the road. “No,” Olivia said automatically. “Well, a little bit. I haven’t seen anything like that before.”
“You scared? You’re a witness now,” Xander said.
Jesus, she hadn’t even thought of that. But no, she wasn’t scared. Maybe she should have been. “Are you scared of something?” she asked instead of answering directly. “Like getting caught by the cops?”
“In this fucking town?” Xander scoffed, and she could hear the disdain in his voice even through the roar of the bike. “I’m more worried about the fuckin’ weather than I am the local police.”
Olivia knew what he meant, even as a member of law enforcement herself. There had been so many fuck-ups and scandals in the police department the past few years, and they’d been way too distracted to pay attention to the biker gangs even as they proliferated in the area. “Fair enough,” she said.
“Still, though,” Xander continued, “you weren’t fucking horrified seeing tons of blow being traded right before your eyes? Must’ve made you shit yourself.”
“Gross, no,” Olivia reflexively answered before she remembered she wasn’t supposed to be prissy around him. “I don’t know. It’s weird for me to see. But it’s what I signed up for. I’m not here to judge.”
“That’s exactly what you’re here to do,” Xander said back, but before Olivia could think up a retort, they pulled into another biker bar, this one closer to the Immortal Souls’ home on the edge of the desert.
I’m here just to judge him? To judge his whole life? Is that what he thinks? Olivia worried as she swung her legs over the bike and followed him inside without asking. This bar was more of what she pictured a biker bar to look like. Loud, hard rock music was blaring out of several speakers, making her ears hurt, and tons of women in tight clothing littered the entire first room, shooting pool and downing drinks, all with their breasts practically popping out of their tops. Olivia felt herself growing stiff as the girls looked up from what they were doing and stared at her, some of them in curiosity, some of them with a hard edge to their faces. Probably worried about a new bitch coming in on their territory.
Fuck, I am judging them. I’m judging all of them, Olivia realized.
This bar’s bikers came out to the front room one by one, each guy taller and more hulky than the one before. They didn’t smile or call Xander by any cutesy nickname. Instead they just crossed their arms and stared at him expectantly, their bulky leader chewing gum as he stared Xander down.
Xander stepped forward and said something to the leader, but Olivia couldn’t make it out over the booming music.
Olivia approached the baby-faced biker in Xander’s gang, Ezra, weaving between the bodies of a few sexy yet hard-faced women on her way over. Ezra intimidated her the least out of all the Souls, maybe because he looked about eighteen. “What’s this about?” she whispered to him.
“He’s makin’ another deal,” Ezra whispered back.
“Drugs?” Olivia asked, trying to keep her voice as low as possible, like it w
as a bad word.
Ezra shook his head, sighing a little when Olivia stared up at him, non-verbally demanding an answer. “Arms, honey. You know what that means?”
Guns. The Souls were selling guns to these big scary men. Somehow this felt a lot worse than the drugs. Olivia felt like she might be sick.
After a few minutes of quiet discussion, the other bikers filed back into one of their inner rooms, leaving the Souls and Olivia in the front with the women. “You want a drink, darlin’?” one of the older-looking women yelled over to Xander, who shook his head.
“No thanks, sweetheart,” Xander shot back, walking over to Olivia. “Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?”
“Nothing, nothing. Come here,” she said, gesturing for Xander to step closer so she could whisper into his ear. “You can’t sell guns to these people.”
Xander laughed, loud enough that the women and bikers could probably hear it even over the music. “Oh, yeah? And why not?”
“They look evil, you know?” Olivia said. “They can’t be trusted with guns. You don’t have any idea what they’re going to use them for.”
Xander sighed deeply and stared at her for a second. “Relax, princess,” he finally said, tearing his eyes away from her to smile at a woman who was hovering nearby. “We’re not selling them guns. They’re selling them to us.”
“Oh,” Olivia said, feeling relief wash over her. “What for?”
Xander shrugged. “Protection. It’d be stupid to go without the newest tech.”
Olivia pondered why she had never thought of the Souls that way, as people with enemies who could hurt them. She wondered why she didn’t feel fear seep into her body at the realization that she was hanging around people who had guns and who had guns regularly pointed at them.
The other bikers filed back out into the front bar, the leader gesturing to Xander for him to come over to the main bar. Olivia stayed put, a little nervous to be noticed by the hulking monster Xander was going to deal with. But instead, a biker’s women sidled up to her without making any noise, almost scaring the shit out of Olivia when she popped up in her peripheral vision.
“You with Xander, huh?” the lady asked, almost shouting to be heard over the music and adjusting the straps to her tank top so it hung right on her body. Olivia wondered if this woman was a sex worker or if she just slept with the men for fun. Either way, given how huge and unfriendly the guys looked, it couldn’t be fun.
“I’m not ‘with him’ with him,” Olivia answered, trying to smile in a friendly way, as if she could charm the girl out of continuing this line of questioning.
“Listen, let me give you some advice,” the lady said, leaning in closer to drop her voice. “When a man chooses you, latch on and don’t let go. You don’t want to be passed around like a ragdoll. It’s bad for business. The men won’t respect you, the other bitches won’t respect you, and you won’t get anything but chewed up and spat out, over and over again. Believe me, I’ve seen it happen dozens of times.”
“I—thank you,” Olivia said. “But I’m not…I’m not here to fuck anybody.”
“Sure,” the woman replied, a grin spilling out over her face. “And I’m gonna run for president one day. Listen, just let him take care of you. Xander’s a good enough guy. Or at least he was. Shouldn’t be hard to change him back again.”
“What do you mean, he ‘was?’” Olivia asked, dropping her voice so low she wasn’t sure the girl could hear her. “He’s not a good guy anymore?”
The woman pursed her lips, like she was trying to think up how to word it correctly. “Some guys are in this business for money, and they get rough when they have to. But some guys are in it for the roughness, and the money is just a bonus. Xander used to be the first kinda guy. Now, I’m not so sure.”
“Like, getting into fights with people in your club?” Olivia prompted her, desperate for the woman to keep going.
“Yeah, and other stuff,” the girl said with a shrug, and Olivia wanted to shake her for being so goddamned vague.
“Does he hurt the girls he’s with?” Olivia asked quietly. She was a little afraid to know the answer. She knew from Hannah that Xander’s dad was abusive. Maybe Xander modeled his behavior. Olivia had seen that happen with her clients more often than she could count.
The girl shook her head quickly. “I mean…he isn’t nice, from what I hear from the girls he fucks. He’s kinda mean, you know, but not rough. Not like that.”
Olivia breathed deeply in relief, and the woman patted her gently on her shoulder.
“You’ll be all right, doll,” the woman said before walking away.
But Olivia wasn’t just worried for herself. She needed to know that underneath everything, Xander was a good man. She couldn’t help a criminal become better at his job if it meant abusing people.
By the time Xander finished talking with the leader, Olivia could see dusk had fallen, the last gleams of sunlight streaking in through the dusty windows. He walked back over to her, a swagger in his step. “We got the stuff,” he whispered to Ezra, who grinned and pushed Xander’s chest playfully.
“I knew you could do it, boss!” Ezra said, sounding about thirteen years old in his enthusiasm.
“Yeah, yeah, at ease, soldier,” Xander said back, rubbing the top of Ezra’s hair like he was his dad.
It made Olivia feel warm, seeing him like that, all light and affectionate. How could she ever second-guess that he was worth helping when that hidden kindness showed up like light seeping through the cracks of dusty floorboards? Maybe Xander’s right. Maybe I am judgmental, she thought.
The Immortal Souls trickled out of the bar, some of them yelling out the details of future plans with some scantily clad women on their way out. Olivia once again hopped on the back of Xander’s bike, clinging on tighter than she had before, feeling his muscles move through his jacket. She felt like she knew him now, almost like she’d known him for years.
When the gang rolled to a stop in front of the Immortal Souls’ clubhouse, Xander shouted out to the men as they turned off their engines, “Yo! Hold up a second. I want to talk to you guys about tomorrow real quick.”
But one of the men got off his bike, took off his helmet, and marched inside anyway. She wondered if maybe he hadn’t heard Xander, but when Xander yelled out, “Roger!” and the guy didn’t turn around, it was clear it was some kind of intentional show of insubordination. Olivia recognized Roger as the guy Xander fought with the night she met him. He was handsome, almost movie-star level handsome despite his scars, but there was still a large splotchy bruise covering half of his jaw. Probably Xander’s handiwork.
Xander growled under his breath but swung off his bike to address the rest of the gang. Olivia stayed seated, running her hands over the smooth surface of the seat Xander had vacated. She really liked this bike. It smelled good, even factoring in the gasoline. She wanted to ride it again and again, and maybe learn how to operate one herself.
After another minute, the men started filtering into the bar, leaving in pairs. Xander went inside last and Olivia followed, keeping a few feet of distance. She got the vibe he wasn’t ready to talk to her yet. She had important things to say, but she couldn’t afford pissing him off.
Xander walked over to the second half of the bar, going straight to the stool where Uncle Jerry was sitting. Olivia didn’t get there in time to hear what was said, but Uncle Jerry smiled up at his adopted son and gave him a deep nod of approval. Olivia blinked for a second, her eyes irritated by the clouds of smoke in the bar, and when she opened them Xander had disappeared and Jerry was back to chatting with the elderly biker sitting next to him.
Olivia looked around the whole bar, wondering if somehow Xander managed to sneak back out into the open air without her noticing. Maybe this had been his plan all along, wait until she was stuck in a crowd and then slip by her, free from all judgment. But then she heard a deep cough and turned her head. Xander was standing at the foot of the stairs that led up to
his loft apartment, and Olivia finally locked eyes with him. Xander nodded his head in the direction of the stairs, before he began walking up. After a few seconds of hesitation, Olivia followed, keeping a safe distance between the two. What is he thinking? Does he want to fuck?
After climbing the stairs, Xander approached his kitchen, taking out a bottle of whiskey and pouring out two full shots. A moment later he approached her in the center of the room, settling down on the floor next to her and staring up until she sat down next to him.
For a moment they were silent, and Olivia wondered if both shot glasses were for Xander. But then he spoke, avoiding her gaze even as she stared at him in wordless question.
“I’m sorry about what happened earlier,” Xander said under his breath as he handed her the shot glass. “Mike, you know, that fucking loser in the bar, who called you a slut.”
“It was kind of my fault,” Olivia said before downing her drink. “I should be able to handle guys like that. God knows I have enough experience with it.”