by Rye Hart
“Anyway, I gotta get back to work,” I said.
“Who’s bartending with you tonight?” Emma asked.
“No one. Just me tonight,” I said.
“Why the fuck has no one called me?”
“Because the manager’s an idiot. You know that. It’s fine, anyway. The more money I can make, the quicker I can fix up the loft and get the fuck out of my mother’s house.”
CHAPTER 7
I was on my last shift before the weekend, and none of the guys had come in that night. I searched for them the moment we opened at eight, but none of them stepped into the bar. Of course, my mother was there. She was being obnoxious, drinking all our booze for free, and falling all over the young guys she thought she could take home.
“Another one,” my mother said.
“You can’t even talk straight. I’m cutting you off,” I said.
“I said I want another.”
“No.”
“Just one more,” she said. “There’s this hot guy in the back who loves tequila. One shot of it on my breath, and he’s mine.”
“Haven’t slept with all the guys in town yet, I see.”
When my mother didn't give me a reply, I looked up into her eyes and was shocked to find that she was surprised at my comment. She tilted her head off to the side like she was studying an endangered animal or trying to learn a new concept. Her brow furrowed deeply as her eyes scanned my body, and I braced myself for whatever she was going to say next.
“What makes you think you can dictate what I do?” my mother asked.
“The least you could do is conduct yourself like a mother,” I said.
“I’m more than just your mother, Emma. I’m a woman with wants, needs, kinks, and fetishes.”
“Take that kind of talk somewhere else, please.”
“Give me a shot of tequila and I will,” she said.
“You’ve had enough alcohol. I’m not giving you anymore,” I said.
“You listen here, you selfish little brat. You don’t get to judge me after everything I gave up to have you. I made a mistake in having unprotected sex, and I paid the price with you. I dropped everything in my life so that I could raise you. Give you what you needed. Feed you and clothe you and school you and shit. And if you think that you get the right to be embarrassed just because I gave up my golden years to raise you, then you’re sorely mistaken. Now. Give me. Another. Shot.”
I hated my mother. In that moment, there was nothing I wanted to do more than slap her across her face. I was willing to do anything to get her to go away, even if it meant feeding her alcohol she didn't need. I slammed a shot glass down onto the bar, poured our cheapest tequila into it, and watched her throw it back like the drunk she was.
“Thanks. You're a real peach,” she said sarcastically.
She threw the shot glass back behind the bar, and it shattered on the floor at my feet.
I watched my mother leave the bar area and go toward the man she had her eyes on. She went and tugged on his hand, and then the two of them slid into a booth. The young man leaned into her, his nose trailing along her neck, and soon the two of them were all over each other in that smoky little corner as I shook my head behind the bar.
“Everything okay?” Lindy asked.
“I was wondering when you would show up here,” I said, sighing.
“It’s only ten o’clock,” she said, giggling.
“Fuck.”
“Your mom’s at it early tonight. She got a bedtime or something?”
“Nope. But she’s pissed because I tried to call her out for her slutty behavior.”
“Whoa, yikes. How the hell did she respond to that?” she asked.
“She went on this tirade about how she wasted her golden years raising me and how she was more than just a mother I could be embarrassed about. Now, she’s probably trying to prove a point,” I said.
“Yeah. Probably not the best idea to call her out while she’s drunk,” Lindy said.
“Ya think?”
Lindy and I continued to serve people who trickled into the bar that night. I kept a watch out for any one of the brothers. The twins, Adam, any one of them. Anyone to help distract me from what was going on with my mother. I had no idea how long she and that guy were going to make out in the booth, but I could tell my mother was intentionally trying to catch my stare. Every once in a while, I could feel her eyes flickering over toward me, trying to see if I was looking at her before she kicked things up a notch.
I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction no matter how much I wanted to spit in her face.
“Looks like you’ll get an early reprieve tonight,” Lindy said.
“What?” I asked.
“Your mom. Where’d she go?” she asked.
I looked over at the booth and didn't see my mother or the guy whose face she had been sucking. I scanned the bar area looking for her, trying to figure out where the fuck she had gone. But then I caught my mother’s stare as she stood at the door, her back pressed against the door frame as the young flavor of the night continued to suck on her neck.
My mother shot me a wink before she grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the bar and into the parking lot.
“At least she’s gone,” I said.
“And since she left with someone, she won’t be back,” Lindy said.
“Why the fuck is she like this?” I asked.
“I don’t really know. But you know she’s only in here to get free drinks.”
“Yeah, and if I don’t give them to her, she throws a fucking fit, and they toss her out. Without making her pay,” I said.
“Maybe we could talk to Booker? Huh? Get him to ban her.”
“You know he won’t ban anyone. He keeps that policy for a reason. The moment we start banning people, we lose our clientele because we’re no longer unbiased,” I said.
“But it’s bullshit, and you know it,” she said.
“And it’s bullshit I’ll have to continue putting up with. Trust me, I know. I’ve already had this conversation with him. But if we keep our heads down and keep working, in a couple of weeks or whatever we’ll be done with this place,” I said.
“I’m worried about you, Emma.”
“Well, this nightmare’s almost done.”
“You can come stay with me tonight if you’d like,” she said.
“Thanks. I might take you up on that.”
CHAPTER 8
It was so nice to have a Saturday off. I woke up on an air mattress on Lindy's kitchen floor, my limbs aching and my hair all knotted up. Her studio apartment was barely big enough for her, but she was always willing to open it up to me if I needed a place to stay. We closed the bar last night and cleaned until almost six in the morning, so once we got back to her place, we were both ready to crash. Now, the birds were chirping, and the sun was streaming through her kitchen window as the microwave told me it was three in the afternoon.
Good thing Sundays and Mondays were days The Skull was closed. Because my schedule was going to be fucked up.
Lindy was still sleeping, and I didn't have the heart to wake her up. I made some coffee in her coffee pot, then kept some on warm for her to have when she finally woke up for the day. I needed a way to clear my head, to forget all about the bullshit my mother pulled on a regular basis and to exist in my dream life for a while. I made a travel mug of coffee and grabbed an apple off the counter, then scribbled a note for Lindy telling her we would meet for dinner.
I made my way down to my car and drove to the warehouse building we had put an offer on.
I pulled up to the building and leaned against my car. As I stared at the empty shell, I pictured what it would be like if I could get it opened and set up. I thought about the walls that would be decorated with posters and antique motorcycle parts. I thought about all the people that would pull in and come and get themselves measured for custom-made leather jackets. I thought about all the women who wanted to wear biker clothing but felt they didn
't have the bodies to pull it off. They could come into my shop and try on all sorts of designs and leave with an entire wardrobe that helped them to express who they knew they were inside.
I could envision the different rooms that were separated by walls. One room held the leather jackets, and another had the denim. There was one that displayed the lacy nightgowns and all the things women could use to spice up their relationships. I saw people lined up out the door waiting to drop their items off so Lindy could fix them, and I saw rooms filled with all sorts of boots and heels and shoes and socks. Everything to rock the lifestyle and be safe on the road is what I was going to sell. I didn’t want to sell an idea or a knock-off of the type of life I saw for myself. I wasn't selling just a fashion line. I was selling a way of life. I was selling an aesthetic. I was selling a sense of freedom and a need for loyalty above all else.
I could taste it as I stood there staring at the building.
I knew it was the perfect place if I could get it up and running. I closed my eyes and imagined what my apartment would look like above the store. Living right above it would enable me to keep long hours without running myself ragged. And longer hours meant more service. I thought about how I would paint the walls, and I thought about the type of furniture I would fill my apartment with. I thought about keeping the space open and sectioning it off with curtains and cloth panels. I would be free to do whatever the fuck I wanted if our offer was accepted. Free from my mother and her drunken antics. Free from the bar. If I had my own place, I could ban her from it. I could kick her out and no longer have to deal with her bullshit.
I could separate myself from her entirely.
I started running calculations in my head to make sure I had the finances right. Between Lindy and I, we had $130,000 for this project. If they accepted our offer of $140,000, and we used $30,000 of what we had as a down payment, then we could get a loan for the other $110,000. That meant we had $100,000 in cash for other things, like decorating the inside of the store and stocking it with everything we wanted to sell. We wouldn't be able to take a profit from that $100,000, but it would enable us to have two to three months to build a reputation without worrying about taking on more debt than we could handle.
If Lindy and I could come out of this with no more than $150,000 in debt, then, if things caved, we could always go back to the bar and work it off between the two of us.
The roaring of a motorcycle behind me caught my attention, and I whipped my head around. I saw one of the twins driving up on his bike, and he pulled up beside my car. He parked himself and walked over toward me, leaning his broad form up against the side of the car I was leaning against. I could feel his body heat radiating toward me, and I had to intentionally settle my breathing at his proximity.
“Whatcha doing?” he asked.
I could tell by the tone of his voice that it was Tanner. He and Tyler looked exactly alike, down to the slight crook in their noses. But Tanner had a lighter lilt to his voice than Tyler did, and that was how I could tell them apart.
“Just thinking about all the things I’m gonna do to this place once I buy it.”
“So, this is the place you put an offer in on?” Tanner asked.
I slowly looked over at him, eyeing him up and down as he grinned at me.
“What? You think all we talk about is sex and beer?” he asked.
“I’m not sure what to think anymore,” I said, giggling. “But yes, this is the place I put an offer in on.”
“How much?” he asked.
“$140,000. Ten grand below their asking price. And the realtor thinks he’ll gratefully accept our offer. It’s been up for sale for four years, and the taxes are draining him,” I said.
“So, what do you see for it?” he asked.
“I see everything. All the walls decorated with posters and antique motorcycle parts. Rooms dedicated to individual pieces of clothing. Prices people can afford and the ability to order custom-made pieces. Leather patchwork and tailoring services and being able to order what you want when you want it and have it at the drop of a hat.”
I could hear the excitement growing in my voice, but I couldn't help it. My ideas tumbled forth from my lips and Tanner listened intently. As different as the brothers all seemed, they at least had that in common. They listened, really listened. It was a trait I found very attractive.
“And the loft space above the shop is going to be my apartment someday.”
“Someday?” Tanner asked. “Why someday?”
“Eh, it’ll take time to make it livable is all. I’ll stay with a friend of mine until then or something,” I said.
“Okay. What are you holding back?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean there’s an underlying tone to your excitement that says more than what you’re actually saying out loud,” Tanner said.
I sighed as I began kicking at a rock in the ground.
“I’ll need to take out a loan for 110,000 dollars to purchase the rest of the building, and that doesn’t include the work that’ll have to go into the loft space. I’ll have to raise the rest of that money on my own, but it’ll easily be another seventy grand to get that space up and running like it needs to be. You know, checking the plumbing and making sure the electrical wiring is up to code,” I said.
“So, you need 180,000 dollars that you don’t have,” Tanner said.
“Yep. And that’s if we don’t run into any snags. Take into account shit that always goes wrong with stuff like this, and I’m looking at just under three hundred grand to make myself feel comfortable. And that’s money I still don’t have. Even after two years of Lindy and I saving our asses off.”
Tanner turned his head back toward the building and seemed to be deep in thought. His eyes narrowed as they danced along the horizon, and I wanted to know what he was thinking. I looked up at him as he crossed his broad arms over his chest, which accentuated his rock-solid bicep muscles. I took a deep breath to try and calm the heat pooling in my pelvis. This was not the time or the place to be fantasizing about his body.
“Anyway, it’s just a silly little dream,” I said.
“It isn’t. Especially since you’re chasing it. Don’t belittle what you’re doing. You’re better than that,” Tanner said.
I heard something vibrate, and Tanner reached into his back pocket. His eyes scanned his phone as his face morphed into worry, and I gave him the space he needed to send off a message. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and pushed off my car, then made his way for his motorcycle.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yep. Just some club stuff,” he said. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. But I do have to go.”
“I understand. Ride safely, okay?”
His crisp blue eyes connected with mine, and I held my breath. He was studying me, something else that all his brothers shared. His eyes raked down my body, taking me in as he revved his motorcycle to life. My nipples were standing at attention behind my bra as he straddled his motorcycle. I thought about what it would be like to take him right there on his bike. To suck on his cock until he came down my throat as his legs hummed with the engine underneath his body.
I shook the thought away, and my eyes found his again, but this time I saw that he was smirking.
Shit, I’d been caught again.
“Keep chasing that dream,” he said as he kicked up his stand.
Then, he rode off down the road as dust flew behind his bike.
I found myself wondering what happened to the club. Was everything okay? For someone who did not outwardly emote like Tanner and Tyler, he sure as hell looked worried. I took one last look at the building before I slipped into the car, and as my ass hit the seat, my phone rang on the passenger side.
“Lindy?” I asked.
“Nope. Booker. Sorry. Can you work tonight?”
I bit back a sigh as I looked at the clock. It was five in the afternoon. Three hours until openi
ng.
“Yeah, Booker. I can work,” I said. I had been looking forward to a day off, but the $180,000 price tag that hung in my head forced me to agree.
“Good. Get in here as soon as you can. You think Lindy will come in tonight, too?” he asked.
“Give her a call. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind,” I said. “You sound frantic. Something wrong?”
“Had to fire the new girl. Especially after she didn’t show up for work this morning. You and Lindy are all I got until I can hire someone else.”
“I’ll be there,” I said. “See you soon.”
CHAPTER 9
My run-in with Tanner stayed on my mind well into the weekend. I hadn’t seen them Saturday night at the bar, and it made me worried for their safety. What did Tanner mean by “club stuff”? The concerned look on his face as he read his phone was stuck in my memory. He peeled away from the curb pretty quickly on his bike as well. Was that why the brothers hadn’t been showing up at the bar recently? Growing up around the clubs like I had, I knew that club business could be both monotonous, and extremely dangerous, depending on what sort of activities the club was into.
The Grove brothers’ club being newer in town, I wasn’t quite sure what it was they were about. Drugs? Guns? Gambling? Protection? I tried to figure out what it could be by what I knew about the brothers so far.
My mind was stuck on a skipping turntable as I tried to fill in the missing blanks.
I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I hoped everyone was all right. As I lay there in bed at two in the afternoon, I tried to occupy my mind. So, I thought about the store and how long it was taking Lindy and me to hear back about our offer. I thought about all the facets of my business I could eventually add. I tossed around names for our shop. Things like “Open Road” and “Leather Hell.” I thought about all the colors I could pepper into my clothing line. Spritzes of pinks and deep reds and blues. Dots of yellow and chrome spikes and hand-stitched patches with customizable string.
Fucking hunter green on some deep black leather would look badass.