5 Bikers for Valentines

by Rye Hart

  “I know you, Malcolm,” she said. “There's no challenge you can't overcome. Not when your heart is in it. You're much like your father that way.”

  “This might be out of my league even,” I said.

  “Listen, I know what your father has asked you to do,” she said.

  I looked up, shocked, but she smiled gently, patting my cheek like she'd done countless times when I was a little boy. She knew? I couldn't believe it. This didn't seem like something that should have been discussed outside the walls of dad's office.

  But, Alba knew. And for that, in a way, I was glad. She'd always been good to me, acting as a second mother at times, and I hated keeping things from her.

  “Women would be lining up to have your child, Malcolm,” Alba said. “Look what you could offer a child – wealth beyond most people's wildest dreams. Who wouldn't want that for their child?”

  “And not be involved with the parenting themselves?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. “That seems less likely.”

  “For the right price, anything is possible,” she said. “Just look around you, you have options. You just need to think of this as a business arrangement. You may need to think, as they say, outside the box a little bit.”

  Alba and my mother exchanged a glance and then both of them turn and look at me, serious expressions on their faces. I could see the anticipation in both of their eyes.

  “Alba is right, Malcolm. Take love out of the equation,” mom said. “Offer them money. However much it takes. And get Terrance to write up a binding contract that gives them no rights to the child once it's born. You really need to take the emotion out of it. This is a business deal and nothing more.”

  Yeah, a business deal that consisted of bringing a brand-new life into this world. That's a pretty big fucking deal. But, I was willing to play this out with them and see where it goes.

  “Okay, suppose that all works out and I find someone willing – then what?” I ask. “The clinic requires a six-week waiting period, remember?”

  “Who said anything about using a clinic?” Mom shot me an almost sinister smile. “Son, I know it's awkward to talk about with your mother, but I know you understand how babies are made.”

  Ah, great. Talking about sex with my mom and Alba. Yeah, that's not completely uncomfortable already. As if my day could get any worse.

  “Even if I did – sleep with a woman under this arrangement,” I said. “there are no guarantee she'd get pregnant. Not for a while at least, and we don't have time.”

  “There are ways to push the process along, Malcolm,” Mom said, her smile widening.

  When it was clear I wasn't getting it, she added, “Crane Enterprises is a pharmaceutical company, and I have connections,” she said, looking at me like I was dense. “I'm sure we could get ahold of fertility drugs. You find a willing woman, I'll handle getting the drugs. Under the table, of course.”

  “Is that safe?” I asked.

  Mom shrugged. “More than likely, yes,” she said. “Make sure you pick a healthy woman to bear your children, Malcolm, and everything else will be just fine. You'll see, it will all just start falling into place.”

  Alba smiled and nodded. She seemed to be in on this. Both my mother and the housekeeper who was like a second mom to me were okay with me finding a random woman and paying to have sex with her. What the hell was happening to my life?

  “If I'm being honest, I'm not sure I can do this,” I said.

  “What choice do you have, Malcolm?” Mom said. “You know your brother and how conniving he is. If we don't think of something – he will.”

  Alba nodded her head in agreement enthusiastically. “This company belongs to you, Malcolm. Not Adam. Not anyone else. You,” she said. “You are the one who's put in all the hard work ever since you were a child. Do not let this man come in and steal it from you.”

  They had a point. It gave me a lot to think about, that was for sure. I stared down at my hands and thought it over. Neither woman moved or spoke as I tried to think my way through it all. I mean, it wasn't much different than what I'd considered the other night – with Casey – but I backed out because it felt dirty and because I doubted she'd find the idea very enticing.

  Both my mom and Alba seemed to think I was wrong, and well, they certainly knew women better than I did.

  “I'll think about it.”

  “Don't think about it too long,” Mom said. “The clock is ticking.”

  Geez, thanks Mom. Like I needed any more pressure right now.

  She was right though; the clock was ticking. If I closed my eyes and strained my ears, I could almost hear the faint tick-tock, echoing like a whisper in the back of my mind.

  Time was running short. Very, very short. If I wanted to save my father's company and keep it out of the hands of somebody like Adam, I had to get on the ball. Sooner, rather than later.

  CHAPTER SIX

  CASEY

  Living in Los Angeles is something people all over the world dream about; the beaches, the glitz, the glamour, the lifestyle. All these things were all a lie though.

  Sure, some people got to live in Beverly Hills or Bel-Air – well away from the true reality of day to day life in the City of Angels. The wealthy elite got to enjoy their brunches and shopping trips on Rodeo Drive.

  Others, like my family though, were scraping and clawing to survive. Given the chance, I would have left town in a heartbeat. But, being born and raised in Southern California – and with my family stuck here – it made the idea of packing up and getting out incredibly hard.

  Impossible, actually.

  For the present, and the foreseeable future, I was stuck in a small, cramped, shitty two-bedroom apartment in Echo Park. It wasn't exactly the glamorous part of Los Angeles. It definitely wasn't the idealized image of LA people have in their minds. There's no glitz or glam to be found in Echo Park.

  But then, not even Hollywood was really what tourists expected it to be. Tinsel Town was dirty, filled with broken dreams, and the wreckage of ruined lives. The homeless and addicted littered the streets, and you didn't want to be caught in Hollywood at night – not unless you knew where you were going and could get there quickly.

  Hollywood was where most dreams came to die. Or maybe, I was just being cynical.

  My sixteen-year-old sister, Sierra, was at the kitchen table doing homework when I woke up that afternoon. When I glanced at the clock, I knew my fourteen-year-old brother, Nick, was at basketball practice. I always knew where they were and had their schedules down cold.

  “How's Mr. Peabody doing? Is he still teaching biology?” I asked Sierra.

  I stood there, staring into a empty fridge. Shopping didn't get done, go figure. My stomach growled, and eventually I made some toast. There was no jelly, since we were out. Of course. Margarine was all we had. Great. I sighed and dropped a couple slices of bread into the toaster.

  “Yeah, he's still a hardass,” she said, taking her headphones off.

  She stared back at me with the sweetest, most innocent looking face I'd ever seen on another human being. A lot of people said we looked alike, and maybe we did back when I was her age. Before life started getting to me and piling on the worries. But, I couldn't remember – or even imagine – ever looking as sweet and innocent as my little sister.

  “He's a hardass because he cares about you, chica,” I said, ruffling her hair. “Thinks you have what it takes to make something of yourself. I do too, by the way.”

  Her hair was the same dark brown, bordering on black, as mine, except, hers was long and straight, where mine was thick and wavy. Unruly at times. I always thought she got the better end of the stick in the hair department.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Sierra said, laughing.

  My toast popped up and I buttered it, before putting it on a plate and joining my sister at the table. I snacked on my lunch/dinner combo before I had to head into work.

  I dug into my pockets and pulled out a ten-dollar bill, all that I had left
over after paying the bills. I handed it over to Sierra with a sigh.

  “Here, get you and Nick something to eat for dinner,” I said. “A pizza or something.”

  Sierra looked at the money, then back at me. She didn't take it and a sorrowful expression crossed her face.

  “I hate taking your money, sis.”

  “You need to eat.”

  “So do you.”

  “I'm eating, aren't I?” I held up my toast and gave her a smile I hoped didn't look as fake as it felt. “Besides, I can always grab something at the club. You guys can't.”

  “Mom said she's going to the store tomorrow.”

  “That's tomorrow. You need dinner tonight,” I said and forced the money into her hand. “Speaking of which, do you know when mom's getting off work?”

  Sierra shrugged and went back to her homework, slipping her headphones back into place. Music was her escape, as it had been mine at her age. I stared at my sister for a long time, watching her study. Sierra was smart, and I prayed every single day that she'd get a scholarship and get into a good school or something. Anything to get her out of this shithole and into a better life.

  Nick had his athletic ability which could take him places, and Sierra her brains. I wanted to believe that I only had to do this for a few more years. After that, both of them would be adults. Hopefully they'd both be off at college somewhere, and I'd be free. Free to live my own life and do what I wanted to do. The sound of something heavy crashing down came from the other room, followed by the distinctive noise of something breaking and glass shattering. My dad's voice called out for my mother and I felt my heart sink a little lower in my chest.

  “Maria?” he bellowed. “Where the hell are you?”

  Sierra looked up from her textbook, a look of fear in her eyes.

  “Maybe you should go study in your room,” I said quietly, hoping to avoid drawing our father's attention.

  She nodded and quickly picked up all of her things before hustling to the bedroom she shared with Nick. Mom and I also shared a room – dad usually slept in the living room. He had apparently just woken up for the day in a foul mood. Not that it was all that surprising. That was his usual mood.

  At least I worked all night and missed most of his angry rantings and ravings about this thing or that thing, about whatever injustice he felt was inflicted upon him, or who was trying to screw him over for one reason or another. My dad hadn't worked in years – not since sustaining an injury that left him in constant and chronic pain. Ever since then, he did nothing around the house but bitch and complain and drive all of us crazy.

  “MARIA!” Dad's voice called out, echoing around the house.

  I shouted back at him. “She's at work.”

  I put my plate in the sink, adding it to the pile already in there. No time to wash dishes now, I just wanted to get the hell out of here. Dad pulled himself into the kitchen and walked over to the sink and grabbed a dirty glass.

  I turned and hastily rushed toward the door, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of there, but he stopped me.

  “Where do you think you're going?” he snapped.

  “To work,” I said.

  “Dressed like that?”

  I turned and found Dad somewhat sober – which was a rarity – leaning against the kitchen sink. His hair had gone gray a few years ago, and now it looked like it was falling out in patches. His eyes were sunken in, the dark circles beneath them seemed permanent, and deep lines were etched into his face. He looked rough. Hardened.

  Drinking and drugs aged a person prematurely. That wasn't a secret. Seeing it up close and personal though, that only seemed to drive the point home even more. If seeing my dad looking twenty years older than he actually was wasn't a deterrent for me to avoid drugs and alcohol, I didn't know what was.

  “It's my work uniform,” I said.

  “Oh, so my daughter is a hooker now,” he sneered. “Great.”

  “I'm not a –” I stopped right there and bit back the scathing reply that was on my lips.

  Clenching my fists at my side, I reminded myself that it would do no good to argue with him. He enjoyed tearing us down. Enjoyed getting a rise out of us. This was entertainment for him. This was how he liked to spend his day. Which, of course, was a testament to just how sad and small his life had become. I turned on my heel, ready to head out that door, but his voice stopped me. Again.

  “I always knew you'd be a whore,” he said, a sneer even in his voice. “Always did like the boys a little too much.”

  Tears burned in my eyes, but I was determined to not let them fall. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing his words affected me. It's what he craved. I hesitated at the door, still considering turning around and giving him a piece of my mind. But, I knew that's what he wanted and that it would only leave me in tears. I had to get to work. I couldn't show up with my makeup streaming down my face, nor could I afford to be that upset and emotionally volatile on the floor. Not after Leon had given me a final warning about my attitude.

  I couldn't deal with him. Not today. I was too tired after working six days in a row – and with at least three more days to go before I'd get a day off. Stupid special event. But, at least the pay was good. At least the rent was paid for the next month. At least I had money to give to Sierra for food, because God knew, Dad wasn't going to feed them.

  The echo of sirens drifted down the street as I walked out of the building. Part of me would love to say ‘fuck it all’, keep on walking and never turn back. But, then a car pulled up and my little brother Nick climbed out of the backseat, a huge smile on his face. He was getting so big that some days, I still couldn't believe he was my little brother. As I looked at him, I knew I could never walk out on them. No matter how much I loathed my dad and living where we were. I reminded myself as I looked at him, that I only had a few more years until I could be free of all of this.

  A few more years, I told myself, feigning a smile for my little brother as we passed each other in the driveway. Just a few more years and I could leave this shithole forever.

  ~ooo000ooo~

  “You look tired, Casey,” Tommy said as I clocked in for work.

  “Thanks, Captain Obvious,” I snapped. He laughed and nodded, obviously anticipating the verbal jab. “You okay?”

  I sighed. “I've worked six days in a row with about four hours sleep a night,” I said. “So yeah, I'm a little bit tired.”

  Tommy leaned down on the bar, a devious look in his eyes. “I could talk to my dad about letting us have the night off.”

  “With you? No thanks, I'd rather work,” I said, rolling my eyes. “At least I'm getting paid to be treated like shit here.”

  Tommy's smirk faltered, and that dark look passed behind his eyes. I'd hurt his ego, which was an easy thing to do. Just turning him down seemed to be a gigantic blow to Tommy's pride. He wasn't a man who took rejection well. Probably wasn't used to it. Tommy seemed like the kind of guy who always got what he wanted, especially where women were concerned. That's probably what fed his God complex and made him think he walked on water.

  Leon's shrieking voice echoed through the club. “Casey, what are you doing just standing there? Sasha needs to clock out, and the dishes in the back won't do themselves.”

  I groaned. Dishes. Yes. Ever since Raya had flounced out of there, the wait staff had to take turns playing the part of dishwasher. If you looked like you weren't busy, or your section thinned out, you'd be sent back to do the dishes. Even though I'd just clocked in literally thirty seconds ago, Leon thought I should already be taking drink orders. How dare I stand around for even a second?

  “Guess I'm in the back for a bit,” I grumbled.

  Being in the back had its perks – like not having to deal with Leon's shit – but, it also meant no tips. Sure, I'd get paid minimum wage, but the tips were my bread and butter. They were the only real reason I needed to stick it out at this job out.

  “Listen, if you'd like, I can
handle the dishes for you tonight,” Tommy said.

  I studied his face carefully. “Really?” I put my hands on my hips, searching for the hidden strings. “And what's it going to cost me?”

  “Not a thing,” he said.

  “Uh huh.” I knew Tommy too well for this.

  He wasn't about to help out and do something he considered beneath him like dishwashing without a favor in return. Tommy wasn't an altruistic man. He never did things just out of the goodness of his heart. There was always an angle he was playing. “Spill it, Tommy,” I said. “Who knows, I may even consider your proposition. As long as it doesn't include sexual favors. You can take that off the table right now.”

  “Seriously, Casey,” he said, shaking his head. “Can't I just want to help? We have more than enough bartenders tonight. It's slow, and you'd be better used on the floor. I can get my hands dirty sometimes.”

  Huh. I was actually left a little speechless. Floored, might have been the better word. It's not something I ever expected out of him. Maybe Tommy wasn't so bad after all. At least, sometimes. Unless this was a trick. Either way, I could go along with it for now. I needed the tips.

  “Thank you, Tommy,” I said. “That's really generous of you and I really appreciate it. I'll let your dad know you're heading back.”

  He nodded and went back to the kitchen without another word. Two birds with one stone. Not only did I get out of dishwashing, I wouldn't have Tommy in my hair all night. Win-win for me. With people already filing into the club and the crowd growing, the night was already starting to show promise. “Casey, I said – ” Leon was right behind me now, his voice making my ears ring

  I turned on my heels and stopped him. “Tommy offered to do dishes,” I said. “I'm on the floor. Heading over to relieve Sasha now.”

  “Tommy's doing dishes?” he asked, looking completely taken aback.

  Hell, nice to see that even old Leon could still be surprised now and then. He looked about as shocked as I felt when Tommy had offered.

  “Yep, go ask him yourself if you don't believe me,” I said.