by Tracey Ward
“Crystal clear. Thank you, doctor.”
“You’re very welcome, Miss…”
“Mrs. Stratford,” she lies seamlessly.
“I, oh,” he stumbles. “I didn’t realize.”
“Four years and he still hasn’t given me a ring. What a douche, right?”
“I—yes. No. These things take time. But you’re a lucky man, Mr. Stratford.”
“Mmmm,” I moan.
“Well, good. You’ll be with him all night. He’ll need help to stay rested.”
“I’ll take good care of him,” Harlow promises sweetly.
“Yes. I imagine you will.”
And I imagine if she was a man, I’d punch Harlow in the face for the shit she just pulled on me.
She’s lucky I still love her.
Chapter Nine
Harlow
It’s nearly ten when we leave the hospital in Culver. They gave Josh a Vic on the house before we left and it kicked in hard. He’s faded by the time we get on the road.
“Have you ever been line dancing?” he asks me drowsily.
“No. Why?” I chuckle. “Are you gonna take me dancing, Josh?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I would if I could, but I can’t,” he rattles off, settling deeper into the seat. “I don’t know how.”
I smile over at him. His face is dimly lit by the passing streetlights. They strobe above us to the steady rhythm of the road, dancing across his handsome features. Swollen and destroyed as it is, it still leaves me a little breathless every time I see his face. He was a beautiful boy growing up but he’s a man now. An achingly gorgeous man. A broken nose and a black eye can’t take away from what he has going on. From who he is inside. And that’s a huge part of his hotness; the man he is underneath the toned body and subtle tattoos. The brown eyes and sexy smiles.
“Well, Josh, you’re in luck. Raw knows how to line dance. He can teach you.”
“Why would I want to learn?”
“So you can teach me.”
“Teach you what?”
“How to line dance,” I laugh, glancing over at him. “Are you even paying attention to this conversation?”
Not really,” he admits. “But I get why people pop these pills. They’re so good.”
“You’ve seriously never taken one before? Even though you sell them?”
“I don’t take them because I sell them. I can’t afford to take anything from my inventory.”
“Tell me the truth. Are you going to use the pills they gave you or are you going to sell them?”
“Sell them,” he answers instantly. Honestly.
I’m not a fan of that answer. “Josh, you need to take them.”
“I’ll feel better if I sell them.”
“What if I buy them from you and give them to you.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Yeah, but it’s what I’m going to do. How much are Vicodin worth?”
“Nothing.”
“Josh,” I scold menacingly.
He doesn’t crack. “They’re shit. They’re worth nothing.”
“I’m gonna kill you.”
“No, you won’t. Not after you spent all night taking care of me.”
“Tomorrow, then. I’ll kill you tomorrow.”
“I look forward to it.”
I gnaw gently on the inside of my cheek, feeling frustrated but weirdly happy. Driving does that to me. It soothes me. The wheel in my hands and the road under the tires. The desert stretching out around me for miles, not a soul to be seen. Normally I like to be alone when I drive, but tonight with Josh, it’s okay. He’s good company to have.
Even if he’s a stubborn asshole.
“Fine, sell your Vics,” I give in. “But I’m going to give you my Percocet and I don’t want to hear a goddamn word about it. You got me?”
He’s quiet for a second. I look over to see if he fell asleep, but he’s watching me. And he’s grinning.
“Yeah, Harlow,” he agrees quietly. “I got you.”
“Good. Now go to sleep. I’ll wake you up when we’re at your house.”
“Don’t take me home.”
I blink, surprised. “What are you talking about?”
Is he afraid of the guys who jumped him? Being afraid is not exactly Josh’s thing. I can’t believe he’d let some punk ass run him away from his own home.
“I don’t want you to go near my house,” he answers solemnly.
It hits me then, what he’s worried about. It’s what he’s always been worried about.
Me.
I take a slow breath. I let it out even slower. “Josh, I’m fine. I can take you home.”
“You can drop me off a few blocks away.”
“I’m not making you walk.”
“I’m not making you go anywhere near your dad.”
“I won’t see him. I won’t get out of the truck.”
I see him shake his head out of the corner of my eye, but I can’t look at him. I can’t let him see the fear in my eyes. “I don’t want you to do it.”
“It’s not your call. It’s mine, and I say I’m fine, so I’m fine. Drop it.”
He drops it but he doesn’t like it. I can feel it in the air inside the cab. In the silence we fall into. But I can also feel it when he falls asleep. When the tension leaves like a whisper out the window and the soft sound of him snoring in the back of his throat fills the space between us. The sound is painfully familiar and intimate. I glance over at him to see him tipping toward me, his face slack. His hair in his eyes like always.
I bite my lip as I reach over to gently slide it aside. My fingertip brushes his forehead, hot and soft. Brown from the sun and wrinkled by worry, deep lines etched into his otherwise perfect skin. Things haven’t been easy for him these last three years. I wish I’d known that. I wish I’d come out from under my own shit long enough to check in on him and his. On Pops. No matter what happened between Josh and I, I owed them both better than to run away and never look back. I’m not much, but I’m better than that.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to him, my fingers still in his hair.
My phone rings in my pocket, nearly scaring me off the road. I jerk the steering wheel sharply. Josh swings up against the door, his head smacking the window with a thud.
“Shit,” I whisper, reaching for my phone. I answer it quickly to silence it. “Hello?”
“What’s up, Harley?” Raw replies buoyantly. “You got your boy there with you?”
“Yeah, Josh is here. We’re on our way back to Opal.”
“Tell him I got his shit.”
I smile, sagging with relief. “Raw, that’s awesome. Thank you.”
“No worries, hon.” He chuckles to himself. “Dude didn’t put up much of a fight. He almost shit himself when he found me waiting in his dorm room for him. I told him why I was there, popped him in the mouth once, and he handed the stash right over. Easiest two hundred bucks I ever made.”
“You’re the best. Josh’ll be so relieved.”
“Yeah, no problem. Hey, bring him here to the club when you’re back in town. Bear wants to talk to him.”
My heart freezes in my chest sending chills down my spine. “What does he want with Josh?”
“To talk to him,” he repeats vaguely.
“About the drugs?”
“What do you think, Harley?”
I think it’s about the drugs. I think Bear wants to get in on what Josh is doing. And I think Josh is desperate enough to let him.
“He’s passed out,” I answer evasively. “They gave him some heavy pain meds at the hospital. He’s not gonna be able to talk tonight.”
“He can bunk down here in the spare room. We’ll talk to him in the morning.”
“Don’t you and Devo have a meeting with the Black Hawks tomorrow morning?”
“Not ‘til ten.”
“It takes an hour to get there. What time are you guys waking up? Dawn?”
/>
“What’s your problem?” he demands.
“I don’t have a problem. I just think no one has time for this meeting with Josh.”
“What the fuck do you care? You don’t gotta be there.”
This is a losing battle but I still feel like fighting it. I want to fight it for Josh because I want to fight for him. I want to fight to keep him clean and clear of the club because he’s not built for this. He’s the good guy in the movie. He’s the hero. He’s not a brawler like the boys in the club. If he gets involved with them, they’re going to ask him to do things he’s not ready for. And just like he protected me for years, I feel an overwhelming urge to protect him in any way I can.
“Whatever,” I tell Raw dispassionately.
“What does that mean? Are you bringing him back here or what?”
“It’s either that or take him home, next door to my old man. I think I’ll pass on that bullshit.”
Raw is quiet for a second before telling me earnestly, “Out of all the favors you ask me, I’m surprised you’ve never asked for that one.”
I know what he means. It’s what they all mean when they say they’d kill for me.
It means they’d literally kill for me, starting with my dad.
“He’s not worth your time,” I promise him. “I’ll see you in twenty.”
“Yeah, alright. Drive careful.”
“Always.”
I hang up the phone and toss it on the dashboard. It skitters across the cracked, sunburnt surface before grinding to a stop in front of Josh. He’s still out. Still snoring.
He has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.
We roll into the club parking lot a little after eleven. I took my time driving home, my mind swirling with nothing. With memories and regrets. With worry that can’t be helped. Not now. Bear has his eyes set on Josh and no matter what I do, they won’t be turned away.
Josh grunts as we bump to a stop inside the back parking lot. The automatic gate creaks closed behind us, latching hard to lock us in.
He blinks at his surroundings, his brow furrowing. “Where are we?”
“The club. You’re spending the night here in one of the spare rooms.”
“You’re sure that’s okay?”
“Bear insisted.”
His furrow deepens, but he nods agreeably. “Okay. Sounds good.”
I shove my door open, feeling a little unhinged. “Come on. I’ll get you all tucked in.”
“Thanks, mom.”
I jump down onto the pavement, out into the still, cool air. Looking at the line of bikes, everything is the way it should be. Bear, Raw, and Hyde have all gone home leaving Devo, Skeeze, Kill, and I to hold down the fort. Kill and Skeeze will be in two of the rooms in the back. I’ll get Josh set up in the third.
“Fuck!”
Josh’s shout is followed by a thump! that sends me immediately running around the front of the truck. I find him half-hanging on the door, half-collapsed on the ground.
“What happened?” I gasp.
Quickly and gently, I put my arms under his to help him stand up. He sags against me, refusing to put weight on his left leg.
“My leg is asleep,” he explains gruffly. “I tried to stand on it and the fucking thing collapsed under me. I wrenched my side trying to catch myself.”
“I’ll help you get into the club. Put your weight on me.”
“No, just give me a second. It’s waking up.”
“You want me to stand out here holding you up?”
“You got somewhere better to be?”
“I can think of a few million things I’d rather be doing.”
Josh smiles down at me. He’s so close, it’s disorienting. His chest is pressed against mine, my arms wrapped around him, one of his draped over my shoulders. He’s leaning on me and the truck and his right leg, and still he feels heavy. Bigger than he looks to my eyes shaded by memory. I see him how he looked, not how he looks.
But standing there under the undeniable excess of muscle he’s packed on over the last three years, my vision is getting a little clearer. I’m looking a little deeper.
And he looks good.
“You’re a little liar,” he accuses, his voice low.
“Am I?”
“Aren’t you?”
“You tell me, if you think you know so much.”
His smile softens along with his eyes. They search mine, tracing the lines of my face carefully. “You’re pretty in the moonlight, Harlow.”
My heart skips a beat, tripping over that line. “You’re sappy when you’re on drugs, Josh.”
“I’ve always thought you were prettiest at night.”
“Always, huh?”
“Always and forever.”
“That’s a long time.”
He nods seriously, his smile completely gone. “It definitely feels like it.”
His face falls forward. His eyes close. For a second I think he’s going back to sleep, but then his lips are on mine. His arm around my shoulder is pulling me to him, up and against his body that feels to tall and strong, it makes me weak inside.
I hug him harder, bracing myself against him.
He kisses me deeper. He opens my lips with a gentle nudge from his tongue. I sigh, my mouth welcoming him in. My tongue gliding delicately along his. It feels right and wrong, familiar and foreign, and it’s so many things I remember and dream about and tell myself to forget. But how can I? How can you forget what it’s like to feel really and honestly alive?
When his hand tangles in my hair, guiding my head back to give his mouth a better angle on mine, I sigh. I melt. It feels like I’m molding to him. Like I’m a puzzle piece falling into place, right where I belong.
In another man’s arms yards away from my boyfriend. My armed boyfriend.
I push back from Josh, stumbling away breathlessly. My lips are wet from his kiss. My body is humming from his touch. I want more. I want his hands and his tongue. I want him. All of him. I always have. But I can’t; not like this, not again, and definitely not now. Not with Devo on the other side of the lot and Bear waiting on Josh in the morning.
I pull my keys from my pocket with trembling fingers. I toss them at Josh blindly.
He catches them easily.
“Go in the back door,” I tell him briskly, avoiding his eyes. “First door on your left is yours. Get some sleep. Bear wants to talk to you first thing in the morning.”
“Harlow.”
“Leave my keys with any of the girls you see in the morning. One of them will be around somewhere.”
“Don’t fuckin’ do this again.”
“Goodnight, Josh.”
I turn on my heel, headed straight for the trailer. For my bed. For Devo.
For my sanity, because I’ve obviously lost it.
Chapter Ten
Josh
I wake up to the savory smell of bacon. To the dry comfort of heat. To the sweet taste of Harlow on my lips. The tender feel of her body under my hands. It’s just a memory but it feels so real I have to remind myself that I’m alone. That she pushed me away.
Again.
I blink against the bright morning light, feeling foggy. I could sleep for another three hours but the unfamiliar terrain has me waking up fast. That and the small warning Harlow gave me last night.
“You’re spending the night here in one of the spare rooms.”
“You’re sure that’s okay?”
“Bear insisted.”
That’s not good. This isn’t a bed and breakfast. You don’t stay here unless they want something from you.
When my eyes come into focus I find a small, plain room around me. It’s clean but cramped with too much furniture. Three dressers, the full bed, and a nightstand by my head pack the place tight. There’s a closet with twin slatted doors made of dark wood that matches the furniture. A window by the bed looks out onto the back parking lot of the club, the one inside the fence where the guys park their bikes. I can see chrome glist
ening in the sunlight in a straight, precise line, like soldiers waiting to go to war.
Someone shouts down the hall. I can’t understand what they said but a guy laughs in reply. The high trill of a woman’s giggle mingles with the laughter. It’s not Harlow’s, though. I’d know her voice, her laugh, anywhere.
I sit up with a grunt. My side feels like fire. My eyes immediately drift to the pills on the table, the Vicodin I got at the hospital, but I refuse to take them. I need to be sharp while I’m here. I have to be careful. I don’t want to say or do the wrong thing, especially around Devo. Especially after last night.
I should feel guilty about kissing another man’s woman, but I don’t. Same way I didn’t feel guilty about sleeping with her three years ago. Not even a little. I’d kiss her again given the chance because she’s been on the back of his bike and in his bed for the last three years, but she’s been in my heart, in my soul, my entire life.
I slide my shoes on before checking my phone. I’ve got a text from Harrison asking if I’m okay. I hold off on answering that because I’m not totally sure. I won’t know if I’m okay until I have my stash back from Raw. Until then, I’ll keep Harrison in the dark.
I put the pills and my phone in my pocket, my hand hesitating over Harlow’s keychain thrown next to them. I didn’t look at it last night, but this morning in the light, I can’t look away. There’s a mess of keys on the ring and one dirty, dulled silver trinket with two initials.
HS
It’s the keychain Pops and I gave her for her birthday, offering her our last name. I thought she’d toss it. I thought she couldn’t handle the sentiment of it, but there it is, still with her. Even after all this time.
I don’t know exactly what it means, but it gives me a strange thrill as I scoop it up into my hand, stuffing it deep into my pocket.
Getting to the door is harder than it should be. It’s like walking uphill in molasses with a sword in my side. When I walk down the hall toward the smell of bacon and the sound of laughter, I brace myself against the wall. By the time I get to the bar’s kitchen, I’m ready to sit down again. Maybe go back to sleep for a day or two. But there’s no rest for the wicked and I know my day is only just getting started, so I better man up and face it.