by Anna Lewis
“I understand Paw was expected to pass, but these people don’t know that. You’re smiling,” she whispered.
Molly schooled her expression as Duke glared down at her, “Since you’re in such a good mood, why don’t you sign those papers for your husband like a good wife should?”
“Now’s not the time,” Molly spoke to him in a much sweeter tone than Whitney thought he deserved.
Julian was right behind them. Whitney’s uncle was nowhere to be seen. They marched from the entrance of the cemetery to Pawpaw’s burial plot. Whitney looked around at every man, woman, and child. Her grandfather had touched every single one of their lives.
Pawpaw Shearing hadn’t been frail. He didn’t travel with a walker or cane. He had ridden his Harley with pride, oxygen tank, emphysema, and all. There was no one who could out talk him, not a soul who’d dare to swindle him. He’d always fought to see women and children treated fairly, but there was never a place for them at the bar. He had been protective, misogynistic, sweet, selfish, charismatic, and boisterous. Pawpaw had been a complicated man who she would have loved to know better. He had also loved his son-in-law. The gleam in his eyes on Molly’s wedding day was one she’d never forget. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d found someone, but it could be that he and Duke were alike. Whitney refused to believe that.
After he was in the ground, Duke started at Molly again, “Okay, he’s in the ground now. Let’s get home so we can sign those papers.”
“I ain’t gonna sign nothing just yet!” Molly snapped. It was the first time Whitney had seen her mother be aggressive with Duke. She liked it.
“Don’t sass me woman! Not in front of all these people. I’ll knock you clear into next Sunday!” he growled.
“Like hell you will!” Whitney jumped to her mother’s defense.
Julian wasn’t going to stay silent either, “And you’ll do what? Run away to that fancy school of yours if he does? You don’t even like it here, so what’s it matter to you if she signs away that bar, anyway?”
“It matters because she’s going to run it for a while,” Molly told them.
“That doesn’t make any sense. She don’t know nothing about The Shock Bar!” Duke shouted.
“I know enough!” Whitney shouted back. “I’ve taken plenty of business classes. I practically grew up in that bar, and you know what? I don’t have to explain anything to you. This isn’t your decision to make. And to you Jules, if he lays a finger on her, you’ll see where I’ll run to and it won’t be to school.”
“Keep your threats to yourself, Whit.”
“Well at least there’s still one thinking man in this family.” Whitney shook her head and walked away. She’d had enough of her adoring stepfather. The funeral was over, and there was nothing anyone could say or do to make her hang around any longer.
While the mourners were sure to make their way to her mother’s house, Whitney had another place in mind. The row of bikes parked outside the bar let her know it wasn’t as empty as she’d thought it was going to be.
Walking into The Shock Bar was like taking a step into an alternate universe. The leather bar stools lined the entire length of the bar along the back wall. There were tables and chairs scattered around the floor with booths lining one wall with the other wall full of pictures and memorabilia.
The fellas inside the bar nodded their heads, and some even managed a smile. But it was the guy behind the bar, cleaning out a glass, that got her attention.
Benjamin Shearing was the spitting image of her Pawpaw, only he was a hell of a lot younger. His curly brown hair, and light hazel eyes glistened, even in the dim light of the room. That smile of his could light up the darkest day, and melt every care in the world. She loved the spirit of her Uncle. He was carefree, but dependable. Most of all he loved her no matter what she did, and he showed it.
“So why weren’t you at the funeral?” She plopped down on one of the stools.
“I would serve you a drink but I don’t even think you’re twenty-one yet. Get outta here kid,” he joked.
“Not until you tell me why you weren’t at your dad’s funeral.” She folded her arms over her chest and refused to budge.
Ben pulled a lever, letting the amber colored, liquid flow into a tall glass which he slid down to a big guy with an enormous beard. Two thick grey and white braids dangled from his bandana framing the huge Shadows of Chaos patch on the back of his black leather vest. Whitney shook her head wondering why none of these guys were at the funeral. Her grandfather had been a part of the club when he was younger, and when he opened the bar some forty years ago, he welcomed them with open arms. She thought the place should have been closed for the day.
“Somebody’s gotta keep this business going. And if what I hear is correct, you’re coming to help out?” He cocked his head to the side as he wiped down the counter.
Whitney pulled the hair tie from her head, letting the thick, dark brown strands fall around her face. She knew it made her look younger, and she saw Ben smile.
“You look so much like Clay, I don’t know how your mother can stand it,” he told her, referring to her father.
Whitney didn’t know much about her father, Clay Samuels, except that he took off when she could barely walk. There were pictures of him in the bar, but no one would ever say anything about him. Ben was the only man who’d mention him by name. Perhaps it was her Pawpaw’s doing. No father would be able to stand the sight or mention of the man’s name who abandoned his daughter and her baby. But then why leave his pictures up?
She fumbled with her hair a bit more until she finally pulled it into a low ponytail. Whitney didn’t want to look like her father. “Why didn’t y’all just close for the day?”
Ben sighed as he approached Whitney, who was still staring him down from her seat. He stroked the side of her cheek, and tapped the bottom of her chin lightly.
“Ease up kiddo. Everybody wasn’t Paw’s biggest fan. And just because his funeral was today doesn’t mean I won’t go pay my respects. Besides I never cared what other folks thought about me or any of us. I do what I want, when I want. As you can see, this place ain’t empty, so why close it down? If Paw was alive, he would’ve shit bricks if we closed on a beautiful day like this. Relax, he ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
The crudeness of his humor made Whitney chuckle a bit. “Well you missed the fireworks anyway. Duke wants Mom to sign over her half of the bar to him. He asked her at the burial plot!”
“To do what? He’s only in here for club business and every other night I’m in here with the staff anyway. What’s he gonna do with half of a bar?”
“I assume he’ll try to muscle you out of your share, or maybe gift it to the club. Who knows? But I tell you what, as long as I’m here I’ll do whatever Mom asks.”
“Is that because you want to, or because you’d rather stick it to Duke one last time before you hit the road again?” he asked.
Whitney’s face dropped, “Are you mad at me too? You know why I left.”
Ben got really close to her and whispered so only she could hear, “I know why, and I told you then what I’m telling you now. It’s bullshit! All you have to do is face it, take what comes with the decisions you made and move on. Staying out of Cedar Breeze won’t make the problem go away.”
“Yeah, but staying in Cedar Breeze will sure be a lot of fun,” a voice said from behind Whitney. Ben shook his head and walked away.
Whitney turned around to see Tara Ingram. The petite woman had huge tits, a slender waist, long legs, and a leather jacket with a Shadows of Chaos patch on the sleeve. She stood with her hands on her hips and her fire red hair swept to one side of her face. Their history was connected by one man. She was the other reason Whitney ran out of town. Certain things were about to come out that she wasn’t ready to deal with. The funeral was hard enough, and facing Tara wasn’t on her list of things to do that day.
“Hey Tara,” Whitney mumbled getting up.
“Oh no ho
ney, don’t get up for me,” she insisted, narrowing her eyes. “I didn’t realize you’d be in town long enough to stop by.”
“As a matter of fact, I’ll be here for a bit longer than everyone imagined,” she asserted, as she walked passed the leather clad vixen. She and Tara hadn’t gotten along since Whitney wrecked her relationship with Julian years ago. While the fault seemingly lay with him, there was a part to the story only Ben and Tara seemed to know about. Whitney was far from ready to open those pages again, so she left The Shock Bar. There would be plenty of time for her to spill her guts over the next few days and hopefully it wouldn’t ruin the relationships she had with the people she loved. Their bonds were hanging by a thread as it was.
***
The scent of Julian was all around her as Whitney woke up with him on her mind. Not surprising as she was in his bed. The black walls kept the room dark. The mattress was lumpy, but the comforter was still warmer than any other blanket in the house.
Whitney couldn’t hear Duke and Molly arguing, and she didn’t want to. She wanted to sleep in her own room, but with boxes stacked up to the ceiling, it was less than welcoming. The signs were all around her that she’d left and vowed to never return, but there she was, in her old house about to get ready to spend the day in The Shock Bar with a bunch of people who were less than enthusiastic to have her home.
It only took a few minutes for Whitney to scoop her long locks into a ponytail and slip into some figure hugging jeans, and a tight knit black shirt that barely covered her chest and midriff. If she was going to help run The Shock Bar, she would love to get some great tips while doing it.
When she emerged from the rear bedroom, she made her way into the kitchen to find her mother putting dishes away and sniffling to herself.
“Morning, Mom. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Molly replied. She turned around and her eyes were bloodshot. “You ready?”
“You’re not fine! What happened?”
“Duke just doesn’t understand why I want to bring you into this. He doesn’t understand that Paw left me a piece of the place because if he only left it to Ben, Ben would sell it off to the highest bidder and dad wanted it to stay in the family. I would love for you to go in and run the place for a bit with Ben. Use that schooling of yours to help me make a decision on whether to sell up, or keep it in the family and find some decent people to run it for us. Ben said he would do whatever I wanted, but if Duke has his way, he’d give it to Marco and I don’t want to do that. Paw wouldn’t have done that either.” She folded her arms across her chest and looked out the kitchen window.
“He doesn’t have to understand,” Whitney rubbed her shoulder, “When all’s said and done, I’ll give you my honest opinion about the place, and hopefully it’ll make everybody happy.”
“This ain’t about folks being happy, Whit!” her mother scolded, surprising her. “The reason I chose you for this was because you have nothing tying you to this town. You showed me and everybody else that you can just pick up and go. You can make the tough decisions. I don’t need everyone to love the decision, I need you to be honest with me about what’s going on. How much money does the place need to run? How much debt is that place carrying? Did Paw leave any money in the accounts to keep it running? Because I see too many folks with tabs that they ain’t paid. Just be yourself, take charge, and don’t let folks push you around. And as much as you may hate Duke, he’s your step-dad and you may need to use his leverage as Vice President of the club. Don’t be afraid to, because if push comes to shove, I know he’ll do the right thing.”
“You mean run me over with his bike,” Whitney scoffed.
Her mother shook her head and stepped over to her, taking Whitney’s face in her hands. “He’ll stand by his family. Those patches don’t mean as much as you think they do. Now go have a good day.”
Whitney grabbed a cup of coffee and left the house with her mother’s words hanging over her head like a dark cloud.
Whitney wasn’t sure what to expect when she grabbed the keys to her mother’s jeep and drove down to the bar. There was a line of bikes parked out front as usual, even though it was barely nine. Who drinks at nine in the morning?
There was a meeting being held when she stepped in. Duke was in front of the wall of memories, a small group of men sat around him. The shade of red pulsating through his cheeks told her he wasn’t in a good mood, and neither were the rest of them. One turned to her, “Well look at what the sun dragged in? What you doin’ here girl?”
Whitney sighed. She understood that Duke would do anything in his power to make her job difficult. She wished they had a different relationship, one that wasn’t so combative. Then he surprised her by speaking up, “Hush Carl. That girl don’t wanna be here no more than you want her to be. I don’t want her here either, but her Momma is making her do this, so you gotta respect that. How many of you would turn down a request from your mothers?”
A few mumbles let her know they would get used to the idea of having her around. She made her way behind the bar toward the door that led to a hallway. Down the hallway was the back entrance to the kitchen, and a doorway which led into an empty back lot, and the office.
The door to the office was ajar when she reached it. As she stepped inside, she was surprised to see Marco Raine. The leader of the Shadows of Chaos motorcycle club was handsome in his older age, but Whitney wasn’t one of his groupies. She didn’t care that his black hair flowed effortlessly down to his shoulders, streaked with grey. Those smoldering blue eyes of his were light in contrast to the dark scar running down the left side of his face. The scar cut into his goatee which he kept neat and closely shaven to his square jaw. He never wore sleeves so everyone could see his muscles flex, but Whitney wasn’t impressed.
“What are you doing in here?” she asked.
He peered up from the papers in front of him. His eyes raked up and down her body, making her shrink away from him. He grinned at her discomfort. “Just making sure the tabs for the month are paid. My way of paying respects to the old man.”
Whitney watched him check off the last line of a list and put a stack of cash in an envelope. He tipped it to her for her to watch him drop it in the safe behind the desk.
“Thank you,” she said. She wished that he’d just leave. There was something about Marco that she didn’t trust, but maybe it was because he had chosen Duke as his second in command. Truth be told, she didn’t know Marco outside of his reputation and the rumours she’d heard.
“I ain’t doin’ this for you. Though I’m sure it’ll make your job that much easier,” he said, getting up from behind the desk. “Duke is worried you’ll come in here, strip the place down, and sell it for parts. But I told him to relax. Ain’t no way in hell you’d do that to your family. You’re a runner, not diabolical. Loyalty and family is everything to people like us. You get that, right?”
She sighed, “I get that. I’m not running, and I ain’t making no promises about what goes on here. I got a few weeks to give my mother my honest opinion and then it’s up to her.”
“Well then maybe we should all go say nothing but good things about the place,” he mumbled before leaving the office. She could hear his footsteps as he walked further away but after the door to the bar slammed and there was an eerie silence.
Whitney got up from the desk and went into the kitchen. There was no one there. The guys that were supposed to prepping for the afternoon service were AWOL and the waitresses weren’t lacing up their boots and aprons. She poked her head out to see a bar full of bikers looking around, seemingly waiting for their orders to be taken, but the staff had disappeared.
The pounding of her heart against her ribs was deafening as she wondered what she was going to do. They were hungry, paying customers who needed to be served. Panic was beginning to set in.
Pulling out her cellphone, Ben was the first person she called. He answered the phone. What he said wasn’t reassuring. “Listen kiddo, I spoke to Da
ve, one of the fry cooks. Duke got the staff to walk out in hopes that you’d understand he was much better at running the place than you. Essentially he proved his point, but they won’t go back to work until Duke tells them to. Duke won’t tell them to unless you hightail it and your Mom signs things over to him.”
“What about you?” she asked, frantic.
“I’m on my way in already, but you know I only run the bar, right? We still need a staff to wait and cook. Other than a miracle, we gotta shut down for the day which won’t sit well with people. Just hold tight. I’ll make a few calls and see what I can do. Try to make nice with a few folks and get some help. Do you have any friends left in Cedar Breeze?”
“I’ll figure something out, just get in here,” she demanded and hung up. The last thing she wanted to do was run to Julian but she had little choice.
***
The Great Danes Auto Repair shop was only a few blocks away from the bar but still far enough that Whitney didn’t want to walk. Time was ticking and she needed to get to Julian as soon as possible. Abandoning her pride to speak with him was worth it just to stick it to Duke. He was purposely making her job difficult. Did he want the bar, or did he just want her to go back to school? It would be easier for him to talk her mother into anything if she weren’t there, that was the one thing she was certain of.
She wondered if Julian, or anybody else, was inside the shop. She hopped out of the car and made her way toward the first door she saw. The sound of machines tightening bolts, metal clanging, and sparks flying greeted her as she tiptoed around the shop floor. Men eyed her with grins and greedy eyes as she scanned the place for Julian. He was nowhere to be seen.
A man approached her in a dirty overall, smiling a sparkling white grin. “How ya doin sweetie? Can I help you?”