I hurry to pull my shirt over my head as he takes the gun to the door. My heart is pounding in my ears when he turns back to me.
“There’s a back door right down the bedroom corridor,” he says. “If you hear gunshots, go outside that way.”
My heart is in my throat now. Unable to speak, I nod. As soon as I do, he opens the door, his weapon drawn.
I hold my breath as I listen quietly to the voices outside. They begin too soft to hear. Then they grow louder. Soon there are shouts.
“Don’t fucking lie to us!” one says. “We know she’s in there!”
“Prove it!” Ben yells back.
It goes on in this vein for several minutes. I nearly jump to through the ceiling when I hear the sound I’ve been waiting for. The sound I’ve been dreading.
The loud bangs of several gunshots fill the air outside. Not hesitating, I rush down the corridor and outside.
I regret it as soon as I do.
When I reach the steps, a large arm reaches out and catches me forcefully by the waist pulling me towards him. When I feel the blade at my throat, I don’t have to guess who’s behind me.
“Hello, Ali,” Jake whispers in my ear. “I told you not to run. You’re just making it harder on yourself.”
The blade presses close to my throat. I imagine it cutting into me. I imagine watching the blood leak out of my body as I slowly lose consciousness.
My body tells me to fight and struggle against him, but I know it’s no use. Ben is out front, probably either dead or seriously hurt. No one else will come to help me.
With that defeated thought, my shoulders slump and I lean into the blade at my throat.
“Do it then,” I tell Jake defiantly. “If you’re going to kill me just get it over with.”
The blade presses closer. It’s so close that it starts cutting off my airway. Suddenly, I’m gasping for breath.
“I’m not going to do that yet, Ali,” Jake whispers. The hand holding me against his chest suddenly moves up to my breast and gives it a painful squeeze. I try to yell, but no sound comes out.
“First,” Jake whispers, “I’m going to fuck you hard like the little whore you are. Then I’ll tear you straight down the middle. How does that sound?”
The idea of Jake touching me again. Of Jake…doing that to me is ten thousand times more disturbing than simply dying right here. Finally, I give into my body’s instinct to fight. Still gasping, I reach my leg back and with all the strength I have in me, kick him hard in the shin.
He lets out a gasp of pain and his hands move away from me. I don’t waste any time. I run straight for the trees in front of me.
It’s not long before I hear his pounding steps coming after me. I don’t look back. I keep running and don’t stop until I see a dock and a lake in the distance.
My heart races as I continue to run towards the water. Even thinking that I am trapped doesn’t stop me.
I run all the way across the wooden dock and dive into the water. It is freezing cold and I gasp as it hits my body. A moment later, I look back to see Jake running for the dock
Immediately, I begin to swim as fast as I can towards the other side. It’s not fast enough.
Jake dives in and before I know it, his hands are on me again. He grabs hold of my arm and suddenly, I’m under water.
I feel my arms flailing. My mouth opens trying to gasp for air, filling with cold, rapid water. I feel Jake’s hand holding me down. I try to push against him, my body becoming weaker with every attempt.
Soon, I feel my entire being shutting down. I struggle against the desire to close my eyes, the desire to go limp. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out when I hear it.
My ears catch the sound of a rifle shot, muffled by the flow of the water. Suddenly, I feel Jake’s hand move from my head. His hand around my shoulder goes limp.
With the last ounce of strength I possess, I shove myself up to the surface where my lungs fight and gasp for the air they need.
I feel my eyes opening my strength coming back to me. The first thing I see is Jake, face down in the water. The ripples beneath him have turned red with his blood and a bullet hole gushes from the back of his head.
I look up to the dock to see Ben standing at the edge rifle in hand, still pointed at the spot where Jake once stood.
Ben is here. I’m safe.
That’s the last thought I have before the world goes dark.
*****
It’s been three days since the whole Jake affair. I’ve stayed up here in the cabin ever since. Ben’s stayed with me.
Mike took the fall for Ben on the shooting of the Raider’s outside the cabin that day as well as Jake’s death. Ben told him not to but Mike insisted.
“When they hear what happened, they can’t call it anything but self-defense,” Mike said. “I’ll get community service at most. Besides, I’ve never been in trouble with the law before.”
Mike was so insistent that Ben relented. Mike also insisted that I get out of town. Ben backed him up on this.
The Raiders would wait a while before starting anything again. But these kinds of clubs stay loyal and they have very long memories. Ben and Mike both say I’m not safe here.
I can’t say I disagree with them. I know I’ve got to leave. And, to tell the truth, I won’t be sorry to put this little town behind me. I only wish I weren’t going alone.
I asked Ben to come with me. Last night I practically begged him.
“They’ll be after you as much as me,” I said. “Isn’t it just as dangerous for you to stay here.”
“The guys’ll take care of me,” he answered referring to The Gators. “Besides, they’re my club. I can’t just up and leave them.”
“But, you can just up and leave me?” I asked sullenly, glaring at him with my arms crossed.
“Come on, Ali,” he said, “it’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it?” I asked.
He kept insisting that we could do long distance. That we could work it out with him here and me somewhere else. But I know I don’t want to do that.
If I’m going to leave this town, it’s got to be a clean break. I’ve got to start a new life. And that new life can’t have any baggage.
All the same, an empty hole seems to whistle through my heart as I pack my things. I know why it’s there. And I know it’ll take a long time to fill.
I’d thought…I’d hoped that Ben would want to start this new life with me. I’d hoped that we could drive off into the sunset together.
But, I guess that was stupid of me.
If I know one thing about bikers, it’s that they’ll choose their Club over everything else. Even over love.
Maybe it’s time for me to give up the bad boy biker fetish. After all, it hasn’t worked out well for me with either candidate. Maybe bad boys are overrated. Maybe in the next town, I’ll find a nice accountant who won’t cause any trouble.
Snorting derisively at that idea, I take my small backpack out to the living room. Ben’s sitting on the couch on the phone.
“Sure, thanks man,” I hear him say before he hangs up. As soon as he does, he turns to me.
“That was Mike,” he says. “He called to say they can bring your car up here if you like.”
I shake my head.
“I’ll get a new one when I get to Santa Fe,” I tell him. I’ve got a bus ticket to Santa Fe, New Mexico in my purse. Somehow, it feels heavier than all the rest of my things combined.
“How’ll you get to the bus depot?” he asks.
“I’ll call a Uber,” I tell him.
“You could do that,” he says slowly. “Or…I could take you.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I tell him.
“Not even if I get on the bus too?” he asks.
I stare at him wide eyed for a moment. His mouth suddenly twists up into a grin.
“I…I thought we talked about this,” I tell him. “You said you didn’t want-”
; “Forget what I said,” he tells me. “I was being an idiot.”
My heart begins to hammer with joy and the hole in the pit of my stomach begins to fill.
“Do…do you mean you’d give up the club?” I ask.
“Not really,” he says. “I’ll still be a Gator. And there’s an affiliate branch in Santa Fe.”
He walks slowly closer to me. I stand rooted to the spot.
“Turns out,” he says, “there are dozens of Gators all over the country.”
He lifts his hand and touches my cheek. Instinctively, I lean into his hand, my gaze never leaving his bright, dark eyes.
“But, there’s only one Ali,” he says.
I feel a bright smile work its way to my face. A second later, he’s kissing me. Softly, deeply, passionately.
I move my arms around his shoulders and press into him. Maybe bad boys aren’t so overrated after all.
THE END
Bonus Story 11 of 40
The Fireman’s Flame
Curtis
Curtis was dripping sweat and smeared with soot and grime. At least once a week he and his fellow firefighters looked like this. It was June in Santa Ana. Essentially, this end of the state of California was a phosphorous coated match stick. Curtis pulled off his helmet, exhaling loudly as the fire truck squealed into the station.
“Mark, easy on the brakes, man,” Curtis said, pulling down his suspenders.
Mark shrugged, chewing on the tip of a toothpick. His lips were barely visible behind the layer of soot painting his face.
“You have to fix it, man. It’s not the freaking Fast and Furious. We basically skidded past the last house,” Curtis said, shaking his head.
“But we made it, right?” Mark said, shaking debris from his thick, wavy hair.
His hair looked like it was smeared with tar. That was one reason Curtis kept his blonde hair buzzed short.
“Alright, shower and food. If Manny is late with lunch again, I’m messing with his brakes,” Mark said, slamming the door.
Curtis laughed, knowing Mark was joking, and followed him into the firehouse. Curtis had been partnered with Mark for the last eight years and they were not only partners but best friends. When they weren’t living together for forty-eight hour shifts at the Santa Ana Fire Station, they lived the bachelor life downtown.
“Yo, Curt, I got a story for you, man,” Mark said with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.
Curtis sighed, knowing the story starts with a woman and ends with said woman attempting to put a curse on Mark. Mark was not only a womanizer, he was the king of womanizers and he milked the whole I’m—a—caring—fireman angle to essentially sleep with all of the American southwest.
“What’s her name?” Curtis asked, taking off his boots, and hanging up his gear.
“Her coffee just said, ‘J’,” Mark said, staring off like he was thinking of something.
“Wait, what? Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Nope. We had a chat ‘cause she was making eyes at me. Cool girl. Really hot. She’s one of those yoga girls, but she’s sharp, man.”
“So what happened?”
“We’re going to have coffee again tomorrow.”
“You mean like a date? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you date anyone.”
Curtis laughed at the mental image of Mark holding flowers and chocolates.
“I have to. She won’t give me her number. She said she was flattered, but she didn’t know me so no dice. I mean she was sweet about it, which ‘sweet’ is rare for Cali, but she was pretty clear I wasn’t getting her number—or in her panties.”
“Wow, and you said yes? Either you are desperate or crazy.”
“Neither, man. I can’t explain it. She just has this thing about her.”
“Thing, huh? Well, the fact that you just used a complete sentence to describe her already has me interested. You usually talk about women in grunts and hand symbols.”
Mark shoved Curtis playfully and then jerked his chin towards the kitchen. Curtis nodded in agreement. Nothing like a five alarm fire to make you feel like you could die of starvation.
All of the other guys were already sitting around the tables with massive hoagie sandwiches overflowing off of plastic plates. They were all black with soot too, but the mood was clearly much lighter than it had been when they were tackling a fire. This had been Curtis’s band of brothers since he graduated high school.
In high school and even during the years after, Curtis was no different from Mark, plowing through women like the water from the fire hoses attack fires. It was just too empty and after his dad died he needed an income to take care of his mother. She took his death the hardest and if Curtis had not buckled down he was sure his mother would have just wasted away.
Thankfully, even though Curtis barely graduated high school due to his frequent absences, he passed the firefighter exam and he passed the physicals with flying colors. Curtis only wanted to do it for a few years to help his mother out with the mortgage but after he and Mark became best friends it just seemed like a perfect fit.
“Did you knuckleheads leave any food for us?” Mark yelled, patting Manny the cook on his shoulders.
“Hell no. You should have come earlier, man,” said Donte, a fellow fireman, as he shoved his sandwich in his mouth.
Curtis laughed, knowing there was always more than enough food to go around. Manny waved at both of them as he put out fresh hot hoagie rolls on the buffet table.
“Yeah? Well if my partner here would fix the damn brakes maybe we could get to places on time,” Curtis said, popping an olive in his mouth.
“Hey, no hands on the platter,” Manny said, glaring at Curtis.
“Easy, Manny. No harm meant,” Mark teased.
Mark made two mountainous sandwiches, grabbed some chips and made a B-line to their regular table next to Donte and Brent. Curtis patted his abs, knowing he probably should not copy Mark, but his stomach rippled with hunger. He piled up his plate and plopped down at the table.
“You guys hear Mark is in love?” Curtis asked, biting into his sandwich.
“Shut up, asshole,” Mark said.
“Wait, what?” Brent asked, leaning forward on the table.
Mark rolled his eyes and dropped his sandwich on the plastic plate.
“She’s just cute. No big deal,” Mark said, stealing Brent’s bag of chips.
Mark rolled through the story, trying to look nonchalant. Curtis was not buying it. Mark did not talk about women in details. He probably talked about politics more than women, and Curtis was sure Mark did not even vote.
“So, she won’t even give you her number and you’re going out for coffee anyway? What if she’s not even there?” Donte asked.
“I’m getting coffee anyway. Plus, she’s cute. She’s smart too, man. I mean we actually had a conversation and she was funny. Girls aren’t funny,” Mark said with a little too much certainty.
“My wife is funny,” Brent said affronted.
“Brenda? No, she’s not. She’s cute, not funny,” Mark said.
“My wife is hilarious. Just last night she—”
“No one cares, Brent,” Curtis said, throwing a pickle at Brent.
“At least he has a wife. Isn’t Lisa leaving you?” Mark asked, raising an eyebrow at Donte.
“No, she’s just crazy. She doesn’t like me working so many shifts, but we have three kids! Damn, I should be working on putting out a fire right now,” Donte said, sucking his teeth.
“Brenda’s hassling me for kids, but I’m still part time. Ain’t no way in hell we can have kids right now,” Brent said.
Curtis zoned out as the men complained. Truthfully, Curtis wanted kids. He was thirty and by now he really thought he would be married with kids. He had not dated in a few years since he and his ex, Tammy, broke up. To make it worse Tammy was married with twins. If Mark got married to his mystery girl before Curtis, he was sure he would die alone.
*****
Jes
sica
Jessica shook her hair loose from her messy bun. She had just gotten back from yoga, and as usual she had finished her latte before she got up the four flights of stairs leading to her apartment. She could hear her roommate Cynthia was cleaning because Reggaeton was blasting in the stairwell.
“Roomie!” Jessica yelled, keying into the industrial-style two bedroom apartment.
“Oh hey!” Cynthia yelled, turning down her iPhone.
“Jesus, is that hooked up to the TV?” Jessica asked.
“I had the electronic guy come over and set it up. Isn’t it amazing?”
Cynthia beamed a toothy white smile, nodding her head. Her thick black curls bounced on her head as she bobbed to the end of the song.
“House looks good,” Jessica said, dropping her bag on the ground.
“I saved the dishes for you,” Cynthia said, winking.
“Oh, great. Hey, random not-related question, have you ever dated a fireman before?”
Cynthia whipped around and stared at Jessica with a mischievous smile playing on her face.
“Um, what? Jessica Lynn, did you meet a man?”
“Yes, I mean no. I mean, maybe?”
“Yes! What’s his name and when should I not be at the apartment?”
Jessica rolled her eyes and sat at the metallic kitchen island. It was spotless now. Unlike earlier when Jessica had scraps of construction paper and gooey globs of dried Elmer’s glue everywhere. Jessica was an elementary school teacher and Cynthia, her best friend since college, taught advanced placement Spanish at the neighboring high school.
“It’s not that serious. He’s a meathead to say the least.”
Jessica scoffed and picked a banana from a fruit bowl.
“Meatheads make good fucks.”
“Cynthia Delgado!”
“What? We’re grown-ups and you haven’t had sex since college. Jesus you’re thirty-two not dead.”
Jessica ignored Cynthia and focused on her fruit instead. Though, Cynthia was right. Jessica dove into her career head first securing a full-time job with benefits in her field but something was missing. It was not that she needed a man, but she wanted one. She wanted a man she could build a life with and have children. While she loved Cynthia like a sister, Jessica was ready to forge her own path, hopefully with a husband and kids. Though something about the fireman told her he was more interested in making love not making babies.
Two Wolves For Lizette Page 38