by Darby Briar
Hitting the steering wheel, she hisses under her breath, “Damn her.”
“Nice, Mom,” Axel mutters bitterly from the back seat. “I can’t swear, but you can?”
Turning slightly so she can look over her shoulder at him, she says, “Oh, Axel, give me a break.” Spinning back around she mumbles, “When you’re an adult, you can do whatever you like.”
“Whatever. Are we going to sit in the car all day and get heat stroke, or what?”
She blows out a long breath. “Axel, I swear if you don’t lose the attitude, I’ll let Doll and Medda out and take you home.”
He mumbles something I don’t catch.
For a minute, she does nothing but stare at the clubhouse. Then looking over at me, she says, “I’m not staying long. Remember you’re welcome to come home with me. If you don’t, stay by Lil’, Mav, or Griz. Someone you trust.”
It’s the fifth time I’ve been warned. “I will.”
“Okay. Then let’s do this before I lose my nerve.” She opens her door, and then pops the trunk.
Right away, I hear the old rock music I’ve come to associate with the clubhouse. I’m guessing it’s coming from the backyard because it’s loud.
I get out of the car too and pause to take in my reflection in the car window.
Lily somehow managed to tame my curls. She left my hair down and it lays over my shoulder in a style I never thought would work on me, but it does. My makeup’s soft and plays up my features, a shimmery taupe color on my eyelids, which makes the green fade and the blue stand out more. She also applied a mauve-colored lip-gloss to my lips making them appear shiny and more plump than usual.
After an hour fight with Lily about what I was going to wear, I finally settled on the red shorts I bought the other day on our shopping trip and compromised by wearing a sexy white top instead of sexy shoes.
The shirt is strapless and has a heart shaped neckline. It buttons up the back and has a stretchy strap above my boobs. It’s cute, and flirty, with little red cherries embroidered on it. At first, I thought it wasn’t really my style; but at the same time, I’ve never had enough money to shop for anything but second-hand stuff, so I’m not sure what my style is. Lily claimed it was the perfect shirt to taunt Mav. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I kind of blew the whole lie about me being a virgin.
My shoes are a little more basic. They’re brown strappy sandals. There was no way I was going to walk around in the red heels Lily found. They had four-inch heels! Not only would I end up on my ass, but I’d probably fall into some scary biker who would put those heels where the sun don’t shine.
Axel opens the back door, drawing me away from my thoughts. He gets out and leans nonchalantly against the back fender of the car, arms crossed, leg propped up on the car. He tries to appear relaxed, but his eyes are darting every which way, taking in the people arriving for the party, and his knee is bouncing slightly.
“Axel, come help me with these,” Bethany says as she starts to unload the bowls of salad Nick asked her to make. As he begrudgingly helps her, I move to the back door. There I find Medda who’s already holding her chubby arms out to me.
“Where am I supposed to put them?” I hear Axel ask.
Bethany replies through what sounds like gritted teeth. “Why don’t you find Nick or one of the other old ladies and ask.” I make my way toward the back of the car and catch them glaring at one another for a minute before he finally stomps off toward the back of the clubhouse.
“And stay where I can see you!” she hollers after him.
“I’m not five years old!” he yells back.
She makes a sound of annoyance in the back of her throat, and mumbles, “Then stop acting like it.”
The two have been going the rounds all morning. We’re an hour late because of it.
Over lunch the other day, she filled me in a little on what’s she’s been going through with him. I guess he was fine for months after his dad died, supportive and helpful as if he was trying to fill in as the man of the house. Then as if a switch had been flipped, something changed—he changed. He won’t talk to her about it and he gets angry every time she tries. The last few months he’s been staying out late, hanging with some new friends, ones Bethany doesn’t approve of, and he’s getting more disrespectful and aggressive toward her.
I’ve watched my fair share of their fights since I started living there, and it’s taking every ounce of my will power not to intervene and come to her defense. I’m actually worried he might put his hands on her. She needs help with him and I think maybe Mav or Dozer could set him straight.
“You’re lip is going to have teeth marks,” Bethany says, snapping me back to the here and now.
I stop biting my lip and adjust Medda more securely on my hip. Reaching forward with my free hand, I take one of the pies I made from her.
Bethany picks up the other two and shuts the trunk. After pulling in a deep breath, she asks, “Ready?”
“Not really, but I’m scared of Lily and her threats.”
She laughs lightly and together we follow Axel into the backyard of the clubhouse.
I scan the lot and see only two HOC motorcycles line the front of the clubhouse. Usually the entire front wall is lined with bikes. “Are the guys not here?” I ask. For a second, I feel disappointed. What if he isn’t back yet?
I haven’t seen Mav in three days, but he’s messaged me every day he was gone. Nothing as deep as his first text, which I’ve read and reread a thousand times. But his messages since have been simple and sweet. Each day he starts by asking, “You there?” To which I respond, “Yes. I’m still here.” Later on, I usually get another text checking to see if I’m doing okay or having a good time. And each night I get one more text that says simply, “Night, Doll.”
The tingling sensation that flows through me when I hear the cell phone vibrate and then see those words is indescribable.
That feeling is why I’ve stayed. I crave more of it.
I could fall head over heels for Mav. I could die at the hands of Luce. But the question is . . . who will he be? What if he’s a little of both? Could I love both sides of him, if it was safe to do so?
Or am I a fool for even trying?
This is why I’m here today. I need to know one way or the other if this is where I’m supposed to be or if I need to move on before Davis comes for me.
Bethany shrugs. “Doesn’t look like it. They’re probably out on a ride or stopped off somewhere to have a few drinks before the party starts. Maybe we can drop these off and sneak out before they arrive,” she jokes.
It’s not really a joke though. She’s been a nervous wreck all morning.
When we enter the backyard, my eyes sweep over the clusters of people throughout the backyard. They’re huddled in groups here and there, sitting in lawn chairs or at the picnic tables, others standing around. Most of the kids are playing on the large patch of grass away from the adults, while a few linger close to what I assume are their parents.
I spy Grinder and two older patch members by the grill. Grinder appears to be trying to kick-start the thing. A few other familiar faces and hang-arounds I’ve seen around the clubhouse are here, as well as the old ladies I met at the planning party the other day.
Nick’s directing Axel to the folding tables lined with food, just as Kendra and Taffy exit the back of the clubhouse carrying trays of more food.
“There you are,” Nick says to us as we get closer. “I wasn’t sure you gals were gonna show.”
“We tried to be here on time, but it’s been a rough day,” Bethany explains.
“Oh . . . ?” Nick’s brow quirks up.
Bethany waves her off. “Teenage drama. It’s fine now.”
“Well, I’m glad you made it. You can’t really have a party without potato and macaroni salad.”
“Exactly.” Bethany’s tone implies that she’s well aware of how she was swindled into coming.
Nick winks at me. Her eyes dr
op to the pie in my hand. “Whatcha got there?”
“Ummm, this one’s apple.”
“Doll made them,” Bethany adds. “There’s also lemon and cherry.”
“Oh, wow. Thank you.” Nick’s smile brightens a bit more. “They look great. We better put them away though or they’ll be gone before the guys even get here.” She calls Taffy over.
“Oh, my God, you really came!” Taffy screeches.
Taffy reminds me of a butterfly. Not only because her hair’s pale blonde and has a teal streak running through it from root to end, but because she’s unique and more social than any one person should be. There’s always a bounce to her step as if she can’t stand to keep her feet on the ground. Her skin’s ivory and flawless, and she has the same steely blue eyes as Dozer. Her pert little nose is pierced and she’s wearing a white baby doll dress with wedge sandals.
Addressing me, she says, “Hi, Doll. I’m so glad you came!”
“Thanks.”
Her gaze shifts to the angel in my arms. “Look at you,” she says. “You get cuter and cuter every day.” She tickles Medda, who’s clinging to my side, making her giggle.
Then she moves on to Bethany.
Nick scolds, “Taffy, you’re gonna make her drop the dessert.”
“Calm down, Ma. It’s fine.” Taffy playfully smiles and takes one of the pies from Bethany. “It’s been forever since I’ve seen you.” She gives us both a sly wink, looking so much like her mother as she does so. But I’m guessing by her comment, Nick doesn’t know about our little shopping trip. She wasn’t invited to my knowledge, so maybe that’s why.
Nick takes the other pie from Bethany and puts it in Taffy’s other hand. “Hide these in the pantry until later, will you?”
“Sure.” Taffy turns and strides toward the back door.
Kendra pulls Bethany in for a long hug. “I can’t believe it myself, woman. Where in the hell have you disappeared to?” Pulling back, Kendra plants her hand on her hip and centers an intense look on Bethany.
“Just a lot going on with work and the kids. It seems like just when I’ve got one person hired and trained at the bar, someone else quits. I’m down a bartender and a busser, and I was having issues with the babysitter.”
“If you need help with the kids—”
“Actually, Doll’s going to start watching them for me, so I think I’m good there.”
“You know I’ll help out if you ever need me to. With the kids or at the bar. I’m not looking for a full time job, but I can sling drinks or clean tables for a night or two if you get in a bind.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ll let you know if I do.”
“That’s nice of you to help out,” Kendra says to me. Nick nods and appraises me, which has my nerves perking up again.
I shrug. “I needed a job and a place to stay. Bethany was nice enough to give me a chance.”
Kendra gestures toward the pie in my hands. “Here let me take that inside for ya.”
“Oh . . . sure. Thanks.” I hand it over.
Blaire comes over and greets everyone cordially, except me. She’s not as welcoming or as sassy sweet as Kendra. In fact, the way she’s looking at me makes me feel as if I’m wearing stilettos and a short skirt. The other old ladies catch on to the tension and the conversation feels a bit forced after that. The entire time I can feel Blaire’s cold stare boring into me. She doesn’t want me here. That much is obvious.
I’m tempted to make an excuse to get away, maybe take Medda to play with the other kids. I’d feel more comfortable around a bunch of children, but my gut tells me chickening out isn’t the best thing to do. I get the feeling weak women don’t last long here.
“Ma, when are the guys supposed to get back?” Taffy asks as she strolls back toward our little group.
“Anytime now,” Nick states.
Medda’s playing with the silver bracelets Bethany loaned me. She lets out a little giggle each time I shift my arm up and down and her little fingers get stuck between them, like it’s a game. I love her laugh. So carefree. It helps sooth my nerves and gives me something else to focus on besides the death stare I’m receiving.
“You’re good with her,” Nick comments.
I glance up at her. “Oh . . . thanks.” Feeling the need to say more, I go on. “I have a five-year-old niece. I watched her all the time when she was little like this.”
Bethany’s eyes widen a bit at my confession. I know this is news to her and along with everyone else. Honestly, I have no idea why I decided to share that.
“Mind if I steal her from you?” Blaire asks.
“Not at all,” I lie as I hand Medda over to the woman glaring at me.
Bethany speaks up. “It’s been nice having Doll at the house. Medda loves her and Axel is warming up to her.
“What happened to your other sitter? That neighbor of yours?” Nick asks.
“Mrs. Rhodes? She’s getting old and I don’t really trust her anymore with Medda. I caught her sleeping the last two times when I went to pick Medda up. She’s on some new medication that makes her tired all the time.”
“What I wanna know is why aren’t you callin’ if you need help?” Nick’s mouth pinches tight and tension rises in the circle of women.
“Ma!” Taffy chides.
“What?”
Bethany takes a deep breath, and says, “I . . . I don’t want to keep putting you guys out. You have your own lives—”
Nick cuts her off. “Nonsense. We’re family. Those could have been my grandbabies. You need help—you reach out. And I’m not askin’. You understand?”
Silence descends in our little circle. Bethany nods and looks away.
It’s then I notice people walking out of the yard.
“Oh. Good. They’re here!” Nick exclaims. A huge grin lights up her face. “Come on, ladies. I haven’t seen my nephew in five years and I’m not waitin’ another minute.”
Someone shuts off the music and I hear the thunderous roar of a storm, or more accurately, the sound of a group of motorcycles riding down the road.
This same sound had me tensing as a child, thinking my sister’s nightmare was yet again coming to call.
I hang back, using the kids as an excuse. “I’ll keep an eye on the little ones,” I tell them. I reach out for Medda. Although Blaire looks reluctant to do so, she hands Medda back to me.
I’m not ready to see Mav. My gut is twisting and turning, and I think I’m going to be sick.
As the seconds tick by, the rumble of the motors gets louder and I hear cheers break out from the partygoers. They’re yelling, shouting, and clapping. The growl of the motors carries on and then bikes start being revved. The sound is so loud and the bikes so near, I swear I can feel the ground vibrate beneath my feet.
I hug Medda tighter to me and when she looks up at me, I force myself to smile back at her. Some of the kids pause and glance toward the end of the clubhouse. A few run toward the sound, while some of the other kids who look unsure come closer to me.
The roar quiets little by little and finally, the last motor cuts off. I can still hear people out front, but it almost seems deathly quiet compared to how loud it was before.
By the time the partygoers start to make their way to backyard again, my insides are revolting. I can feel a panic attack brewing and I’m regretting offering to watch the kids. If I hadn’t, I could hide, leave, run. Get away before Mav has the chance to see me and see that yes, I’m still here, waiting like the poor lust-lovesick girl I am, to see which version of him will greet me now that he’s back.
I walk toward Bethany when I see her. Her eyes widen at what must be my anxious expression.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Can you take Medda? I’m not feeling so great,” I mutter as I hand Medda to her.
Using the backdoor, I enter the clubhouse and go to the kitchen sink. Leaning over it, I suck in deep breaths and force myself to keep swallowing, pushing down the nausea that’s threatening
to rise.
Breathe, Em. Breathe
“It’s fine. You’re fine,” I say to myself.
Then boisterous shouts draw my attention and I look out the kitchen window. HOCs flood into the backyard with everyone else. I don’t see Mav. I search, but he’s nowhere in sight. Maybe he’s hiding from me too.
Dozer and another man walk into the yard with huge smiles over their faces, their arms on each other’s shoulders. The other man is wearing HOC colors, and I recognize him from the pictures in Mav’s office, but he’s not been around the club these last two weeks.
Is this Edge?
He’s handsome. Striking even. However, there’s a hardness to him. Lining his forehead are three prominent wrinkles, and below those are furrowed brows shadowing his deep-set eyes. Where Dozer’s smile is natural and easy, the new guy’s is fixed on his face as if he’s not used to using the muscles it takes to do so.
He’s maybe two inches shorter than Dozer. And where Dozer fills out every inch of space in his T-shirt and jeans, and then some; this man’s clothing hangs off him. Even his cheeks appear gaunt.
His dark, chestnut hair is an inch long all over and lies every which way, and he has a mustache and goatee that appear more red than brown in the sunlight.
He concedes a hug to the people who approach him. But he studies them with a critical eye before embracing them. If he weren’t facing me, I would have missed how mid-hug, his smile turns into a grimace for a split second before he forces it back over his face, as if it never slipped in the first place.
I can’t help but think about what tonight would have been like if my plans for the party hadn’t changed. I would have had to sleep with this stranger who looks like he doesn’t trust a soul. I would have been his prize for the night. A vessel for him to find whatever kind of release he needed.
Whenever Warner took me against my will, it made me feel so dead and dirty that I sought to escape. It always stripped me bare. This would have been the same.
I’m taken off guard when the backdoor opens. As zoned out as I was, I didn’t see Dozer make his way to the back of the clubhouse. When I look up and see him dominating the doorway my unease comes back full force.