by Ana Jolene
Hastie looked down at himself, leaning back so that the two metal discs were on full display. “You are not your failures,” he quoted.
“Good words to live by.”
He nodded. “Yeah, they’re good reminders.” He then brought another piece of the omelet to his mouth and chewed.
I sipped on my juice. “Hope it’s okay.” I’d never made breakfast for anyone else but for myself and Seven.
“More than. It’s delicious. Thank you.”
“There’s more of that if you want seconds.” His green eyes darted to the plates I saved for Lucky and Seven.
“I can cook my own. That won’t be enough for Lucky. He eats like he’s never seen food.”
I moved to hit the kitchen again but Hastie’s hand on my shoulder pushed me back down. “Sit, I’ll do it. You’ve done enough.”
“You’re going to cook?” He didn’t seem like the type of guy who knew how to.
Hastie simply shrugged. “I didn’t have a mother around to do it for me so I had to learn to be self-sufficient.”
My heart stuttered a beat. Hastie had never mentioned personal details about himself unless asked. “What happened to her?”
“She died when I was ten. Cancer.”
That was a young age for a kid to lose their mother. “I’m sorry.”
Hastie started making quick work in the kitchen, showing me that he indeed knew his way around. I was impressed, but it also showed me how little I knew of him. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” He opened the fridge and grabbed some eggs before gesturing at my plate. “Finish your food,” he ordered.
I sliced off a piece of my omelet and brought it to my mouth, chewing thoughtfully. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what he had just revealed. “Do you miss her?”
Hastie’s movements were fluid as he moved around the kitchen, only occasionally pausing to ask where I kept things. “All the damn time.” Though his body seemed relaxed, it was his eyes that showed his pain. The intense green was now muted, as if darkness had diluted some of his soul. “What about your parents?”
If Hastie was anyone else, my automatic response would be to change the subject, but I felt willing to answer him, especially since he had shared some of his past with me. “They’re dead.”
His eyes flipped up to meet mine, surprise registering there. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”
Yeah, most didn’t. And I hoped to keep it that way for a while longer. Except I found myself saying, “They died of sun fever.”
Hastie set the spatula down, placing his hands on the edge of the table. “Oh hell, baby.” I was glad I didn’t have to elaborate. It had been fairly recent. Still a few years ago but the cut was still fresh.
“We weren’t exactly a tight-knit family,” I continued, even though I didn’t know why. “The loss shouldn’t have hit me so hard, but they’re still family, you know? It still hurts.”
“I know.” Hastie nodded. “Must miss them, huh?”
“Every day. What about your dad? How did he take your mother’s death?”
Hastie exhaled a long breath before speaking. “I didn’t think anything worse could happen to us. And then the flares hit and I realized that yeah, shittier things could happen. After my mom died, he got a Harley, joined Glory MC, and rode his way to the top. The flares hit and people just sort of looked to him for answers. You’re prez and suddenly, people look to you for everything.”
“When did you join the club?”
“Four years ago, the day I turned eighteen.”
“And Lucky? He’s not part of the club, is he?”
Hastie slid the omelet from the pan onto the plate and shook his head. “Lucky’s special. He’s the only one we allow to ride with us who isn’t an official member.”
“Why’s that?”
He shook his head again. “Not my story to tell.” Cooking done, Hastie came to sit before me again, chowing down on his Hastie-made omelet. I settled back into my seat and watched him eat, awed by this new knowledge of him. Instead of the badass biker before me covered in tattoos and sporting a lip ring, I saw the young ten-year-old kid who lost his mother too soon.
Hastie’s eyes shot to mine. The clouds of grief had passed. “So what’s your plan for today?”
I leaned my elbows on the edge of the table, forcing the images back. “I work today. You?”
“Got Glory biz to take care of. So me and Lucky actually need to get going.”
I nodded despite the disappointment that ached within me. “Okay. Wake up Lucky, will you? I’d like to feed him before you guys leave.”
A smile appeared. “You’re real sweet, you know that?” I blinked, surprised by the compliment. “Thank you for breakfast.” Still grinning, Hastie stood and yelled for Lucky as he left the kitchen. Shamelessly, I watched his smooth gait as he crossed the foyer and entered the living room.
Then I stared down at his empty plate. Hastie could cook, but I should’ve figured that badass bikers didn’t do the dishes.
Sighing, I piled up the dirty dishes and headed over the sink. As the water ran, I couldn’t help but think about the life Hastie had lived. It seemed to be filled with chaos, a constant riot of emotions, never to stay level for long.
How did he manage it? One glance at the man and you could see he was steady. I almost envied that hardy quality to him.
A moment later, I heard the grumbling. That could only mean one thing. Seven was up and that was reason enough to stay clear of her. She was not a morning person.
Lucky strode into the kitchen then, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. My eyes trailed over his torso and noted the corded muscles of his arms. He shot me a grin when he caught me looking. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I returned with a blush.
Not needing an invitation, he dropped his ass into the chair and started chowing down on the omelet. A second later, Seven walked in, stopping abruptly when she saw Lucky at the table. “Ugh, I really hoped it was a dream,” she muttered. Grabbing her plate, she chose the seat furthest away from him.
“This is great,” Lucky said, mouth full of eggs. “Thanks, Indy.”
I smiled. “No problem.”
“So good.” He shoved another forkful into his mouth, chewing and groaning. “Best. Day. Ever.”
“You’ll be late for your big day if you don’t hurry it up,” Hastie said where he leaned against the doorway, arms folded over his massive chest.
“What’s happening today?” Seven inquired as she sipped her juice.
Hastie glanced at Lucky.
The blond’s grin was infectious. “You’re looking at Glory’s newest member!” He glanced at the clock. “Or I will be by tonight.”
“That’s amazing, Lucky! Congrats!”
“Thanks, Indy. You should come.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I thought only Glory members were allowed for these things.” I looked at Hastie for confirmation.
“They are,” he agreed.
Lucky shrugged. “I want you to be there anyway. You’ll come, right?”
What would it be like to be there? I was dying to know what Glory MC was really like. There was no doubt that curiosity was demanding I take the opportunity. But on the other side, did I really want to put myself in that kind of danger?
As my mind warred between the two options, my eyes caught Seven’s. In the bright orbs, I saw a flicker of excitement. This was what she has been wanting for as long as I could remember, the chance to see Glory MC through an unfiltered lens. “I’ll go if you go,” I said to her.
Lucky whooped with excitement. “It’s settled then. You’re going!” He shot to his feet and left the kitchen, calling out, “Later!” before Hastie nodded once to me and followed him out.
Left alone in our house, Seven sidled up to me as I went back to cleaning the dishes. “What a night.”
“Crazy,” I agreed.
“But admit it, you thought it was fun too, right?”
A reluctant smile pulled up the
corners of my mouth. “Yeah, it was all right.”
Snorting, Seven bumped her hip playfully with mine, reaching over to grab the cloth to dry the cleaned dishes. “So you and Hastie, huh? Is it serious?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t bullshit me. I’m your best friend.”
My eyes met hers. “I don’t know.” I didn’t want to look too far into his actions. “We’re just taking it easy.” I wasn’t even sure if this was the right thing to do given the way my moods were at the moment. One wrong decision could tip me over the edge.
“You sure? Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re more important than his next breath.”
“Oh, come on.” I rolled my eyes. When had Seven become all poetic? The girl only cared about partying most days. “So do you really want to go tonight?”
“Of course I do. Especially since they won’t give me a tour of the clubhouse. You’re so lucky you work there. It’d be so easy just to sneak me in.”
“Oh no.” I shook my head. “Not going to happen.”
“Come on!” Seven slapped her palms together. “Just let me in before Neptune’s opens. No one will ever know.”
“I won’t risk my job just so you can snoop around.”
“Oh fine.” She pouted. “But that means we’re going tonight. I won’t pass up a chance to see what it’s like to be in Glory MC.”
“Deal.”
“By the way,” Seven said as she turned to leave. “I know you spent the night with Hastie. So it seems to me you’re into him way more than you’re letting on.”
I wished I could stop the flood of redness that crested my cheeks. The truth was, I was falling deep. Hastie had managed to get under my skin, impacting me so much that thoughts of him constantly ran through my mind. I had never felt this way before, with anyone. Falling wasn’t in my plans of surviving.
In fact, it could be the very opposite. Falling for Hastie could mean losing my grasp completely. I just hadn’t decided if that was a good or bad thing yet.
NINE
Shit Fit
Indy
The smoke-spitting generators had long worn out. Neptune’s was illuminated in a wash of soft light from a collection of candles. I dished out two Miller Lites, a vodka rocks, and a Jack and Coke in record time, gaining the approving nods of familiar patrons. By now, I had fallen into a comfortable rhythm at Neptune’s, had made new friends with a few regulars and had even found the time to help the waitresses with their empties. Life was good.
Hanna brushed up beside me. “Got a problem.”
My shoulders slumped forward. Those were not the words I wanted from her. “What’s up?”
“Back booth has ripped upholstery. The leather looked like someone took a fucking chainsaw to it. I’ll need to replace it, but the manufacturer I contacted today said they don’t have it in stock anymore. I could always order another one, but then that back booth would look like a white kid at a basketball game.”
I snorted at her analogy and threw my glance towards the back booth in question. My eyes widened when I saw it. The red leather was sliced open, the white stuffing falling out as if it was vomiting out the puffs. No one would be able to sit there, posing a big problem for a small dive bar like Neptune’s.
“We could always reupholster all the booths with a new look,” I suggested as I brought a bottle of beer to my lips.
“No, that would cost more money and we don’t have the downtime for the installation.”
“The bar top on that side has some wear and tear. That could use a facelift, too. Maybe you could coordinate the colors to match, wouldn’t that be nice?”
Hanna leaned heavily against the bar and pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Yeah, I noticed that. But again, no time and money for renovations.”
“Oh, come on. That’s bullshit, Hanna, and you know it. Neptune’s climbin’ it. If you don’t invest in some quality pieces that people will notice, you might as well just be another dive bar. Neptune’s gets the biggest and badass motherfuckers on a daily basis. Make the place match its patrons!” I realized by the end that I was shouting, but I was only trying to encourage her.
“Girl, you are too crazy for your own good,” Hanna said with a smirk. “I want it. But I can’t afford it.”
She was worrying too much. It would cost some money, sure, but what didn’t? This would be a breeze. I’d call the manufacturers, order the new upholstery and bar top. Maybe even some new light figures for when the power came back. This place would be teeming with new people in no time!
I shot a look at Hanna that said Go for it, girl but she still wasn’t convinced. How did she expect to create some buzz around here if she didn’t even want to try? Sighing dramatically, I picked up the rag I was using earlier to clean the bar. “Remember you only live once.”
“Yeah, and I’d like not to be broke while living it either!”
“Fine,” I said, realizing all she needed was a little assistance. “You just do your thing and I’ll handle it all.” I was already picking up the phone, hoping that the lines were up. I smiled triumphantly when I realized they were.
Hanna kept her contacts readily available for emergencies such as these so within minutes, I was speaking with the manufacturer she had mentioned earlier and started making orders. I did all this with a sense of auto drive, my mouth jabbering along with insane speed until I had managed to finish scheduling it all. Now all that was left was following up with Hanna and tell her the good news. But in my mad rush with the orders, I had neglected my bartender duties.
A glance over at the bar told me that there were a few angry waiting customers, wondering why they hadn’t been served yet. I automatically slid into sexy mode and poured on the charm. Two gnarly looking men who looked like they were willing to start a fight if they didn’t get service right this second were up first. “Hello, boys. What can I get you?”
Mr. Mustache grunted while Sunglass Dude rumbled out, “Two vodka rocks.”
“Coming right up.”
Within minutes, their drinks were placed before them. I moved on to the next person and did this until everyone had their pick of poison before them, again operating on auto drive.
There was one guy I recognized as a regular. Tonight he was sporting another plaid shirt. Geez. How many of these did he own? Every time he was here he had a different color. I remembered him because he liked to flirt and I was always game since he gave nice tips at the end of the night. But he seemed unusually chatty and touchy. His loud yelling proved why: he was drunk.
“Indy!” he called out as I helped the waitresses collect the empties. “There’s my girl. Why don’t you give me another shot?” His eyes were glassy but they still twinkled with charm.
“I think that’s enough for you tonight, Cosmo.”
Cosmo waved me off. “Come on, babe. I’m just getting started here!”
“Are you?” I said with a genuine smile. I knew how to handle drunks. Treat them with a smile and you never had a problem.
He grinned back, probably hoping to squeeze another drink out of me. “Unless . . .” he paused meaningfully and gave me a look that had lust all over it. “Unless you’d like to leave with me tonight, I could be sober for that.”
My laughter echoed through the dive. Cosmo was so smooth. He’d gotten his name because he always told these stories about his time as an astronaut. As interesting as they were, nobody knew if they were true. I couldn’t picture the guy shooting off into space let alone be able to find his way home alone in this state. Either way, drunk or not, Cosmo was no threat. I shook my head, walking out from behind the bar again to pick up another empty. “Sorry, handsome. But I don’t think I could handle you.”
Cosmo twirled in his stool, his gaze never leaving me. “Aw, come on. I could show you a good time.” He tugged me towards him, plastering me against his body. His breath stank of the sixteen shots of
whiskey he had. “Don’t tell me you don’t want this! I’ve seen the way you look at me.”
“And how exactly do I look at you?”
“Like you wanna eat me up and—”
CRACK!
Cosmo was suddenly ripped away from me and the next thing I knew he was crumpled on the hard floor, moaning. “Oh my God!” I watched on in horror as blood started trickling out of his nose.
My gaze drew up to the man who had knocked him down. Hastie shook with fury as he stood over him, his fists clenched at his sides. Spots of blood coated his knuckles, the signs of swelling already visible.
A crowd immediately formed around us but Hanna managed to push her way through the mass of people. “What the fuck is going on here?” she exclaimed when she took in the scene before her. Her eyes shot to me, but I paid her no mind. My attention—and fury—was focused on Hastie alone.
“Why the hell did you hit him?”
His intense green eyes cut to mine. In answer, he simply said, “You’re coming with me.” Grabbing my arm with a roughness that was unlike him, Hastie dragged me outside.
“The hell I am!” I dug in my heels, fighting him every step of the way. “What the hell is wrong with you? Let me go!”
Hastie jerked my arm hard and I cried out, struggling harder. Once we were in the parking lot, he released me.
Hastie always wore his mood clearly on his face. There was never any bullshit with him. If he was pissed, you knew he was pissed. If he was happy, you knew he was happy. Whether he was mad, sad, amused, confused, or simply horny, you knew it as clearly as if his body was a thermostat and he controlled the temperature of the room.
And right now, I knew Hastie was pissed off beyond reason.
Hastie
With fury burning hotly in her eyes, Indy stomped towards me and yelled, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” She still had one of the empty bottles in her hand.
“What’s wrong with me? Why is it that every single time I come here you’re always all smiley and pressed up against some dumb fuck?”
“Bad timing?”
Goddammit, she knew just what to say to rile me up even more. “Indy—”