by Bijou Hunter
On the couch, Max sleeps under that goofy duck comforter we got at a garage sale for seventy-five cents and a hug.
As a pot of coffee perks, I think about Shane and what happens now. I can’t even remember what we talked about at the Saloon. Last night feels a million years ago. He stayed with me, though. Slept over despite my bed being nowhere near as comfortable as his.
“Ramona,” Max whispers and sits up. “Are you okay?”
I crouch next to her and smile. “Why are you sleeping on the couch?”
Max’s blue eyes watch me for too long, and I know she didn’t come over for me. I sit next to her, stroking her hand until she speaks.
“I got a job offer. It’s a nice restaurant. Real upscale with a chef that was on one of those cooking shows. It’s the real deal.”
“Where’s it at?”
Max lowers her gaze and whispers, “Nashville.”
“That’s not too far away,” I lie, hating the thought of her so far away. “It’s your dream to work in a restaurant like that.”
“But I’m scared,” she whimpers, fighting tears. “I’ll never get another chance like this. No one wants to hire me. I’ve applied at hundreds of places and not a single nibble. This is my one chance to do what Eamon always wanted to do himself. He made me promise not to think small. I want to make him proud, but I’m afraid to go. I’ll be alone there.”
“We’ll visit a lot.”
“It’s not the same. You know that,” she says, and we both think of how lonely I got in Cleveland.
“You don’t have to go, then.”
“But if I don’t, I’ll always regret my one shot at working at a high-end restaurant. Just as a sous chef, I’ll learn so much while being around people with more education and experience. But I’m not sure I’m good enough.”
I remember Hugh’s words to me yesterday. “I think you have to try. Even if you’re not good enough and you do a bad job, and your dream comes crashing down, you have to try. It’s better than wondering what might have been,” I say, and Max wipes tears from her cheek. “And if you fail, it’ll be okay. I came back here after Cleveland, and I was so relieved. I thought I would be embarrassed to end up back in Shasta, but I ended up being so happy to be with the Band that I didn’t care. So, if you don’t like it there, or the job sucks, or the kitchen is too much for you or whatever, it’s okay to come back. At least, you'll know.”
“You did get your old job back,” Max says, trying to talk herself into reaching for something big just like her stepdad hoped for her. “You moved in here like before. It worked out fine.”
“Yeah, and now I know I’m not cut out for city living. Or, at least, living away from my friends.”
“But I’m not good with people. I don’t make friends easily. You know that,” she says, panicking again.
“No, but maybe you aren’t meant to go to Nashville for a long time. Even a year or two would teach you so much. I bet you’d have more opportunities with that job on your resume too.”
Max takes a deep breath and nods. “I don’t have to go for a long time. It’ll be like that summer camp I didn’t want to go to. It was six weeks of crap, but I got to come back at the end. With this job, I’d come back with new skills.”
“I know you’re nervous around people, but in the kitchen, you’ll get into a groove. Just go there for the job. Don’t think about making friends or meeting a guy or anything social. Just think about how you’ll learn from people older and more experienced. Then when you’ve learned all you can, ditch them and come back if you want.”
Nodding, Max squeezes my hand. “You make it sound easy.”
“It probably won’t feel that way right away, but when you get homesick, just remember it’s temporary.”
Max sees something on my face and takes my hand with both of hers. “You protected us that day,” she whispers, and I know what she means. “You’re loyal and strong. That’s why we’re friends with you, not out of pity or whatever. You know that, right?”
Studying Max, I realize what she’s saying, and I also know who told Shane about the Executioners. I’m aware my friends talk about me behind my back. I make them worry. That night at my mom’s place when I cut my wrists is why they talk. Sometimes, I feel as if they view me as a project that they need to get on the same page about. I probably ought to be offended or ashamed. Mostly, I’m relieved anyone cares about me.
“I love Shane,” I tell Max, who tugs the comforter over us. “I thought maybe I just liked him because he was handsome or I was using him for his money. I guess I didn’t really get how love works. Like the romantic kind of love. I can’t explain it even to myself. He just got under my skin. I feel him even when he’s not around.”
“Hugh said Shane wouldn’t leave you last night. I honestly didn’t think he cared that much. I don’t know him, but he’s a biker, and I don’t think of them as having those kinds of feelings for women. Like we’re just holes to be enjoyed. No, I guess, sometimes they use women to make offspring, but I didn’t think they really cared.”
“I used to think that way too, but Shane’s from Ellsberg. Kelsi says people are different there. Maybe it’s true. Or maybe Shane is just better than other bikers. I don’t know his friends that well. I can’t tell about River and Maverick Majors. I don’t want to pay attention to them. I feel like maybe Shane is insecure with River especially. Like women normally only want his friend, and he can’t deal with me feeling that way. I don’t, of course. You know, I’m not attracted to blond men. River just looks like a chick to me,” I say and then snicker. “Shane is this sexy light in the room, and no other man can compete. Especially no blond guy.”
“Do you think Shane wants to move back to Ellsberg?”
“I don’t know. Even if he did, Shane won’t. He’s stubborn. I also sense in Ellsberg that he and River live in the shadow of other men. Like that main one, Cooper Johansson, and then also their fathers. In Shasta, they’re at the top of the pyramid. In Ellsberg, they’re just their fathers’ sons.”
“I’m glad Shane is sweet to you, and I hope he doesn’t leave for Ellsberg. I selfishly want you here when I come back from Nashville.”
“Let’s not worry about any of that. We should just be excited you have a chance to work at a fancy restaurant. I can’t wait to eat what you learn to cook there.”
With both of us relaxed now, Max and I remain toasty under the duck comforter. We mostly talk about Shane’s house. I’m not sure if it’s meeting new people or the possible ghosts, but Max is nervous about the get-together the next weekend. I’m worried too. What if my friends and his friends don’t get along?
I tell myself that we’ll make it work. If Shane can still want me after knowing about the Executioners, I can’t imagine he’d dump me because my friends and his friends don’t instantly become besties.
THE ROMANTIC
There are times when I really come to terms with how spoiled I am. Sleeping in Ramona’s bed is one of those occasions. She only has a mattress on the floor. With no box springs, it’s lumpy as fuck and lacks any support. Ramona likely doesn’t notice since she grew up poor and is probably a hundred pounds wet. For a big, spoiled guy like me, this bed acts as a torture device.
Waking up feeling as if I slept on the ground outside, I’m startled to find Ramona no longer in bed with me. I roll off the mattress and locate my shirt. In the small living room, separated from the kitchen by a half wall, Hugh stands with his back to me.
“Where’s Ramona?” I ask, stumbling my achy body toward the front door.
“Playing in the garage with the girls.”
“How is she?”
“Fine, I guess. If you want coffee, there’s still some left. Ramona insisted we didn’t drink it all so you’d have a cup.”
I smile at her gesture. Pouring myself a coffee, I eye Hugh. “If she ever gets like she did last night, I want you to call me to take care of it.”
“No,” he says and turns around to cross his arm
s.
Hugh is smaller than me in both height and build, but he holds my gaze as if he’s the biggest fucker in the world. I try not to react like I would with any other man challenging me.
“Why no?” I ask, struggling not to frown.
“Look, I get you’re the boyfriend, and I’m happy for you, but the Band takes care of Ramona.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts. The last time Ramona was in a bad place, Velma said she would handle it. We backed off. Her mom took her to the movies and out to eat. Then when they were done with the cancer kid make-a-wish evening, her mom went to bed, and Ramona slit her wrists. So, you probably mean well, but we’re the ones who know how to keep her out of the emergency room.”
I think of those scars on Ramona’s wrists. Last night, I saw something in her eyes that made me believe she could hurt herself again. That thought left me awake for hours after she dozed off in bed. If I fuck up with Ramona, we can always fix shit. But there’s no fixing death. The idea of a world without Ramona makes me scared in a way that I haven’t felt since I was a kid.
“Fair enough,” I finally say after gulping down the coffee. “But I still want you to call me if she gets messed up, and I’m not around. Maybe I can’t handle shit alone, but I can still help. While the Band does the heavy lifting, I’ll order pizza and go on beer runs if needed.”
“Free shit is always appreciated,” Hugh says, losing the edge to his expression. “Ramona defended me when all my friends turned against me. She got harassed by them afterward, but she never ditched me. Ramona is the most loyal person I know, but people use that against her. Not the Band, but every other fucking person. I can’t help worrying that you’ll screw her over and not lose a single moment of sleep over what happens to her afterward.”
Holding his gaze, I say, “I love Ramona, and I protect those I love.”
“And what if you stop loving her?”
“Never going to happen. I plan to be like my father and mate for life.”
“Well, I never thought I’d meet a penguin biker, but here we are.”
Smirking at his dig, I glance toward the front door. “What are they doing in the garage?”
“Can’t you hear?” he asks, setting his cup in the sink. “I’d be out there playing with them, but I have work.”
I follow Hugh into the chilly morning, where I hear the distinct sound of drums and a guitar before he lifts the door on the detached garage.
My heart finally unclenches when I see the joyful look on Ramona’s face as she bangs at the drums. She doesn’t notice me right away, assuming Hugh is alone. Facing her, Kelsi and Max wail on guitars. I have no fucking clue what song they’re playing. No one is singing. Maybe they were earlier, but now they’re all laughing.
Ramona catches sight of me, and her eyes are so bright that I can’t imagine her ever feeling bad enough to end her life. She waves at me, still wearing that big smile. Feeling like a big dope, I wave back. I wish she could always look this happy.
“I’m going to work,” Hugh tells the women when they stop playing. “I’ll leave Shane behind to do any necessary man-work.”
They all grin at him, and then they turn their gazes to me. Max looks nervous. Kelsi looks guilty. Ramona smiles like I’m the most beautiful thing in the world.
At this moment, my first inclination is to take Ramona out to breakfast or back to my place. Just get her alone so I can focus on her. That’s my ego talking. I want to be the only one who can save Ramona. Except last night she felt completely lost to me, and my only solution was to rely on her friends. No, I guess I remembered to have her listen to her music. I’m not completely useless, but I felt that way.
Rather than give in to my ego’s desire to be her white knight, I admit to myself how we both need her friends. I wouldn’t know shit about the Executioners if not for Kelsi. Last night when Goddess mouthed off, I would have reacted angrily and demanded answers from Ramona. Then when she pulled away, I might have let that distance swallow her up.
“Have you eaten breakfast?” I ask them.
They shake their heads and share a gaze I don’t understand. If I had to guess, though, Kelsi and Max are silently teasing Ramona over her boyfriend.
“When you’re done playing, I can take everyone out to breakfast.”
Ramona gives me a weird look. I sense she’s afraid to talk to me while also eager to erase the space between us.
“Can you play a song?” I ask.
Kelsi gestures toward a folding chair. “It might not hold you.”
“Are you calling me fat?” I growl, and she looks afraid. “I’m fucking with you, Kelsi. I know I’m sexy as fuck.”
Ramona and Kelsi grin, but Max still watches me with a nervous gaze. I sit in the chair, which groans under me. Max tugs the garage door closed.
“We don’t want the neighbors to complain,” Kelsi explains while Ramona just watches me with a soft smile. “We could do ‘Rebel Girl’ since Hugh isn’t here to tell us the song sucks.”
Ramona’s smile grows, but I sense she’s looking to me for approval. Whatever she sees on my face, her smile falters. Before I can ask what’s wrong, Kelsi tells her to start them off.
As the song starts, I side quickly with Hugh. This music is the kind of rock that my dad called noise. Even so, I love watching Ramona bang on the drums. There are times when she seems unbearably fragile as if she’ll blow away with a harsh breeze. But not as she plays with her friends. Right now, she’s strong and healthy.
When at her very best, Ramona Verhees is irresistible.
THE LEGACY
Shane’s mood is too calm all morning. He listens to us play—badly—yet still applauds like we’re The Stooges in their prime. I feel as if he’s pacing himself, just waiting to hit me with the painful truth.
Breakfast is fun, though. He listens to us talk about different concerts we attended. Then we babble about the time we went camping and got lost for six hours.
“If we had to turn cannibal, we decided to eat Hugh first,” I announce to the amused laughter of my friends. Shane smiles at my words. “We figured he had more meat on him.”
“He agreed with our assessment,” Max says, feeling less uncomfortable with Shane now. “But we found our way back to the car before anyone took a fork to him.”
Shane chuckles at our stories. He smiles so much that it makes me nervous. Fuse smiled a lot that day when he talked me into handling his problem with the Executioners. I hadn’t seen him look so friendly before, and I got overwhelmed thinking that was the real him. I know Shane isn’t a shady fucker like Fuse, but I feel as if there’s a reckoning coming today.
Maybe that’s why I’m so nervous when Kelsi and Max leave for work. I have my shift coming up too, but Shane will follow me there or anywhere really. If he wants to talk, he’s going to talk.
“Let’s just get this out in the open,” Shane says when we take Hilly for a walk before I leave for work. “I know Fuse was trash. I will never think you’re trash.”
“I didn’t want to go,” I admit, looking at Hilly rather than him. “I tried to wiggle my way out of going, but it was too late. I tried to make the best of it. That first day wasn’t so bad. Their president was kinda nice. Like, I think he felt sorry for me. Bronco said he’d never send his daughter to clean up his mess. I thought it was going to be okay, but then he just disappeared at the end of that second day, and it wasn’t okay. The Executioners’ SGT at Arms kept calling me Summer. That’s the daughter that got shot. He was weird. I think maybe he liked her, but I also got the impression that she was still a kid. I don’t know. I didn’t want to ask questions.”
“I want to kill them all,” he says in a voice that makes me think he would literally murder every single one of them.
“I’m not innocent, Shane. I know you want me to be, but I wasn’t crying and screaming the whole time. I just did whatever they said. I knew I couldn’t leave, so I behaved. I wanted to get home to the Band. I was greedy too. Pi
cturing how nice it would be to have a car and stop bumming rides off people. I need you to see how it really was before you go off and start trouble for your club based on a lie you’ve built up in your head,” I say and then add, “I’m not like your mom.”
Shane looks as if I’ve slapped him. I know it’s unfair to involve his mother, but he told me how her father sold her off to pay a debt. She lived in hell for a long time before Kirk Johansson saved her. That’s not me.
“Your mom didn’t agree to anything. Besides, she was a kid. I made a choice. I don’t know if I could have made a different one. Fuse didn’t threaten me, but he kills people. There’s a threat to everything about men like him.”
“Men like me.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I say, digging my heel into the dirt, “but I don’t see you that way. I know I should. You’re both powerful, dangerous men. But I’m blinded to that truth. Like, on the one hand, there’s what I should worry about with you. Then, on the other hand, there’s what I feel about you. I can’t really blend those two things anymore.”
“I might be like Fuse in a lot of ways, but I’d rather die than have my family suffer for me,” he says, and I know he isn’t just talking.
“I think you had better parents than Fuse. I never met your parents or his, but I still believe you learned how to be a tough man without being a cruel one.”
Shane wraps me in his arms and kisses me tenderly. Despite his affection, I know he’s barely controlling his temper.
“I know it’d be better for you if I was an innocent victim like your mom,” I whisper as I find comfort in his arms. “The Executioners could be the bad guys, and I could be blameless, but that’s not real. I learned long ago that only the real stuff matters. Believing in some dream about Fuse or Cleveland left me tumbling into the darkness. And sometimes, I’m afraid this relationship with you is a dream too. Like, I’m not seeing it for real, but there’s no way I’d dream up last night or even right now. If I was going to have a fantasy, there’d be no bad parts.”