by Naomi West
But, every time he spent more than five minutes trying to sort those problems out, Star's naked body seemed to appear and throw off his whole train of thought, derail him till he could barely think straight.
“Blade called,” his mom said from the open bedroom door. “Said you'd found something about Brendon, but you wanted to be the one to tell me.”
Tanner didn't turn around. He didn't think he could. As much as the thought of his brother as a junkie made him sick, the thought of how his mother was going to react was even worse. But, like Blade had said, she deserved to know. She was Brendon's mom, after all.
“So, you gonna spit it out?” Tova asked. “Or do I need to call Blade back and tell him you're scared?”
“You better sit down, Mom,” Tanner said with a sigh. He turned and sat down on the little twin-sized bed that Brendon had slept in all through high school.
“How bad is it?” she asked as he patted a spot on the bed beside him.
“Well, it's not good, that's for sure.”
She harrumphed and came over to take the offered spot next to him. “Spit it out, Tanner. Ain't got all night.”
“Your stories coming on, or something?” Tanner jibed.
“Quit changing the subject, hon. Just tell me what's going on.”
“Okay,” Tanner said, taking a deep breath. He figured he should start from the beginning. When, not if, they brought Brendon home, she'd find out anyways. It was better to be up front and help her deal with it. “Brendon got caught up with some bad folks, mom.”
“He always did run with a shit crowd. Aside from you boys, of course.”
Brendon smiled a little. “Yeah, he did, didn't he?”
“First those friends of his. Then that Willow girl that he ran off with,” she said, pausing for a moment to pat his hand. “But, you go on.”
“Right. Brendon, he got into some bad stuff,” he said before pausing to lick his lips. “Heroin, I think.”
Tova sucked in a sharp breath, her shoulders slumping. “Goddamn that boy.”
“Blade and I, though, we got a plan, alright?”
“Do you think it'll work?”
He nodded. “I think so. But, it's going to take us all to get him clean again. It's not exactly cut and dry.”
“I know, honey. I've seen it. Dammit, I thought making him watch that Leonardo DiCaprio film would have scared him straight. What was it called?”
“The Basketball Diaries?”
“Yeah, that one.”
Suddenly, the realness of this, the despair in the whole situation settled on him. But, he had to be strong. That was what men were: strong. They don't back down, and they don't let anyone fuck with them, or theirs.
“Well, what can you do?” he asked as he put an arm around her fragile shoulders and squeezed her tight as he dared. “It was his choice, Mom.”
“I know, hon,” she said, defeat flooding her voice. “If things had been different, you know?” She reached up and idly wiped a tear from her eye.
He squeezed her upper arm. “It'll be okay. You'll see. He just needs us, and needs the MC. We'll get him out of it.”
She patted his hand. “I know, hon. I know. But, it's just nerve-wracking knowing my baby is out there on the streets.”
He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. He realized then that he hadn't been this close to her in months, not since Pops had died.
“Let's change the subject,” Tova said, a wicked smile creeping into her voice.
“Uh . . .”
“How's that new girl of yours? Star?” she asked, knowing it would make him squirm.
“How did you . . .?”
“Who do you think?”
He gritted his teeth. “Blade.”
“Bingo.”
“She's not my girl,” he said. “She's just, well, it's complicated.”
“Complicated, how?”
“I really don't want to talk about it, Mom. Really.”
“Well, you won't talk to Blade about it, either. So that just leaves me, your poor old mother.”
He sighed. He didn't want to lie to her. But, he also didn't want her to know the whole truth. Finding out your oldest son was paying a woman to fuck him and have his child wasn't exactly a great followup to finding out your youngest son was a junkie living on the streets.
“Fine,” he said, knowing he wouldn't be able to put her off. “She and I are trying to have a baby together.”
“What?” his mom gasped and pulled away to look him in the eye. “You hardly even know this woman.”
“I know, Mom,” he said. “I just, well, it's what we've decided to do.”
“Oh, honey. Is this so you can get into the trust? I don't want you doing this if that's the reason.”
Was the money the reason? He mentally shook his head. Of course it was the reason. Sure, the sex was great. But, his thoughts on Star hadn't changed, even as she'd helped him find Brendon. He still wanted his freedom. He still wanted the Blood Warrior Motorcycle Club to be his primary focus. They were his family, his brothers. They were his focus in life.
His mother peered into his eyes. “Yeah,” she drawled, “I've seen that look.”
“What look?”
His mom patted his hand again. “Just be careful, hon. Okay?”
He shook his head as she got up from Brendon's old bed and went to leave. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“What is what supposed to mean, hon?” she asked, smiling that little smile of hers as she turned back to him. It was the mischievous “I know something you don't know” smile.
Tanner grumbled and shook his head. “Nothing. Never mind. Just, I'll let you know about everything, about Brendon and how it plays out. Okay? You go get some rest. I'll let myself out.”
Tova nodded again and left him alone in Brendon's room.
She'd taken it better than he'd thought she would. At the very least, he hadn't had to call an ambulance for her because of a stroke or cardiac arrest.
Tanner groaned to himself. What had his mom meant by those last few comments? What did she see that he couldn't?
Chapter Twelve
Star
Star hadn't seen Tanner in a couple days, not since he'd dropped her off at her place the morning after their night in the hotel room. She still thought about him, his hard muscles, the way he'd pinned her against the wall. But, especially the way they'd clung to each other that night in bed.
It had felt so sure, so certain.
While she hunted for work, he was busy figuring out what to do about Brendon. But, that unfortunately meant that they couldn't spend any more time trying to fulfill their little “contract.” And, if that didn't come through, she still didn't have a plan. In the meantime, she needed money to keep herself afloat.
She'd stopped by the workplace of her old friend, Patricia. Maybe she had some ideas of what she could do while she tried to get knocked up. They stood in the small break room together, talking over a cup of badly burnt office coffee.
“Nothing?” Star asked. “No temp work? Admin? Coffee runs, even?”
Patricia blinked behind her big, round glasses. “Nothing, sweetie,” she said, shaking her head. “Besides, I thought you said your money problems were sorted out, didn't you?”
If only that were the case. Star sighed and gripped her foam coffee cup tighter. “It will be, but not for maybe another month or two.”
“What kind of gig are you doing, anyways?”
She sighed again. She hadn't really explained to Patricia her arrangement with Tanner. At first, she'd been embarrassed at how desperate she seemed. Now, she realized she didn't want her friend to shoot down the idea, or try to convince her to break it off. Not only did she need the money, she also didn't want to stop seeing Tanner. Maybe what they had wasn't special, or like a Disney film, but the sex was still amazing.
“You're going to hate it,” Star said.
“I've heard it all, sweetie. Try me.”
Star bit the bullet a
nd briefly outlined the plan and recent events to her. She left out her trip to Quentin's place, or their tracking down Brendon. She didn't want her friend to think she was getting wrapped up in all that stuff she'd finally escaped.
Patricia's eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open as Star explained the situation for her. “You what?” she hissed in a voice low enough that no one in the office could hear. “I thought you wanted something better from your life, Star? And now you're hanging out with some biker dude? What the fuck are you thinking?”
“It's not like that,” Star said, distraught. Patricia never swore. “I think this is good for me. Maybe I need the stability in my life.”
“Then find a boyfriend, or a husband. Or get a fucking cat, like Mr. Wiggles!”
“See? This is why I didn't tell you,” she quietly-as-possible hissed back, not wanting to make a scene at her friend's work anymore than Patricia did. “I knew you were just going to overreact!”
“Overreact?” Patricia said, taking a step closer. “You're letting some random biker knock you up for money, Star. How the hell am I supposed to react? Do you want me throw you a party with a cake that reads 'Hope It's a Boy! And That You Didn't Get Hep-C?'”
“That's uncalled for. Tanner's clean.” Star gritted her teeth and set her styrofoam coffee cup on the counter. She looked her friend dead in the eyes. “And you're supposed to react like a friend.”
“I am acting like a friend. You, though, are acting like a horny fucking teenager. You're thinking between your legs, and not between your ears.”
Of all the people she had left in her life, Patricia was her best friend. The person she'd unburdened herself to when her father had gone to prison. The person she'd turned to for support when her mother had left the state with her new, drug-addled husband. Now, with Patricia's reaction to her decision, she couldn't be sure anymore. Star just shook her head. “Look, I've gotta go. I'll talk to you soon.”
“Uh . . . oh . . . okay?”
Star tossed her half-full coffee cup in the trash and walked quickly out of the break room.
“Star!” Patricia called from behind her. “Wait!”
But, she was determined. With her head held high, she headed out the front entrance of the store front office and back out onto the sidewalk.
She spotted her little hatchback where she'd left it earlier and climbed in. She gripped the steering wheel tight with both hands, wild thoughts filling her head. Well, that was one job hunt down. And maybe one friendship, too.
Fuming, she pulled out into the street and slammed on the gas, sending her little car struggling and sputtering, as she headed home.
# # #
Something wasn't right about her apartment when she got inside. Certain things, like her phone charger and her stack of bills, seemed out of place.
She walked through her small living room, a perplexed look on her face as she spotted out all the small details. A pillow on her couch had been moved. She was almost certain it had been on the other side when she'd left that morning. An empty glass she'd used for a quick drink of water wasn't in the sink anymore, it had been moved onto the counter.
It felt like someone had been here while she'd been away. The whole place just seemed . . . off. But, like they hadn't cared about putting everything back the correct way.
Dread began to fill her. What if the intruder was still here? Waiting for her. Maybe he was going to pounce when her guard was down. For the first time, she wished she owned a gun. Or even a baseball bat.
But that didn't make any sense. She shook her head. She hadn't heard anything since she'd walked in, not even the neighbors. As small as this place was, and as thin as the walls were, there was no chance anyone could hide in here without her knowing it. A sneeze from the walkway woke her up sometimes.
She went back into the bedroom, her senses keen to take in any more small changes. She looked around, but didn't spot anything out of sorts, at first.
Then, she saw it.
On her nightstand. A piece of notebook paper folded over in half.
Star walked over and picked it up, opened it. A short note was scrawled in black ink across the sheet: “Gonna start sleeping here myself if rent don't get paid soon.”
Her mouth dropped open.
She couldn't believe he'd invade her privacy like that! What kind person would do that to someone else? Unbidden tears began to form in her eyes.
She crumpled the note up into a tight wad and stalked out into the living room just as there was knock on her door. “Who is it?” she called out.
“Tanner.”
Thank god, she thought. If it had been Martin, she didn't know what she'd have done, how she would have protected herself. She flew to the door, flipped the deadbolts, and threw it open.
Tanner stood there, just as sexy as ever, with his tight tee shirt, tight jeans, and Blood Warriors vest. He took one look at her and knew something was the matter. “Tell me what's going on,” he said, his voice full of iron, as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
She tried to hold back the tears. She really did. But, having him appear just like that, just like a knight in shining armor. She couldn't help it. She just broke down, and let all her tears go. She buried her face in his chest, sobbing as all her money problems, family problems, and the argument with Patricia came spewing out in one bawling explosion.
He took it in stride, though. He soothed her as best he could, stroking her hair as she began to explain.
Chapter Thirteen
Tanner
The more Star told him, the more upset Tanner got. His chest tightened up, his eyes became narrower, his blood boiled at a faster pace.
He didn't know why her story was affecting him the way it did. It shouldn't have, that was for damn sure. After all, this was about fucking and making a baby, not about being in a goddamn relationship. But, even though his head was saying he shouldn't be getting this upset, the rest of him was screaming for blood.
Another knock came at the door. Star stopped mid-sentence, her gaze swiveling towards the front entrance. “I think that might be him,” she whispered. “Please, just let me handle this.”
“Fuck no,” Tanner grumbled. “I'll do this.”
“I'm not your girlfriend, Tanner Rainier,” she said as she got up and crossed to the door. There wasn't anything mean about the way she said. It was just a statement of fact.
She took a deep breath and opened the door. “Hi Martin,” she said as she opened the door a crack. “Saw your note just now. Nice of you to stop by . . . again. And so soon.”
Tanner ground his teeth together. She shouldn't have to be dealing with this motherfucker. It should have been him doing the talking.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Martin said, his voice nasal and whiny. “Glad you got it, kiddo. Let it serve as your notice, okay? I want you caught up by the end of the week, or you got two choices. You can be out on yer ass, alone. Or you can be on yer back, with a partner.”
Tanner stood up and started to pace. His hands were fists at his side. Fuck this guy. Fuck him and his stupid fucking rent. And fuck him for threatening to take back-rent in sex. Star wasn't his ol' lady, but Tanner would be damned if some sniveling piece of shit like this was going to take advantage of her or anyone else.
But, especially not Star. Not the future mother of his child.
“What?” Star asked, raising her voice. “Look, I paid you what you wanted, didn't I? I put off my other bills, so I could get caught up with -”
He cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Nah, I changed my mind, alright? Landlords are like women, got it? It's our prerogative to change our minds. I need the money by the end of the week, kiddo.”
That was it. That was enough for Tanner. He crossed to the door in two big steps, ripped it out of Star's hand and threw it open.
The door bounced off the drywall with a loud thunk as Star and Martin both stepped back. Only Martin had a surprised look of terror on his face.
>
Tanner was on him like a rabid dog. “You listen to me, you white trash cocksucking son-of-a-fucking-bitch,” he yelled as he grabbed Martin by the collar of his sleazy wife-beater and slammed him against the neighbor's front door.
Martin threw his hands up defensively, tried to shield his face.
Tanner shook him like a pitbull shaking a rat, thumping his head back against the apartment door. “You leave Star alone, you hear me? Her rent's fucking paid as of now! You're messing with the Blood Warriors!”