ENSLAVED BY SHIFTERS

by Astrid Lee Donovan

  Lila was sleeping on the living room couch, which was different than Gloria remembered but shared the sort of aged look and musty smell that brought back memories all the same. She sat down beside her mother’s sleeping body; there were no beer bottles or liquor bottles in sight, which seemed like a good sign. Gently, she tugged at her mother’s shoulder.

  Lila’s dark brown eyes opened in a series of blinks, her pupils focusing then refocusing. When a smile spread across her face, she almost looked beautiful, the way she must have looked when she stole Gordy’s heart all those years ago.

  “My baby,” Lila said. “My baby…”

  “Hey, Mom,” Gloria said, and wondering just how many years it had been. That led her to wondering how many years it’d been since she’d seen her mother sober.

  “Let’s have a drink to celebrate,” Lila said, straightening up and running a hand through her thinning grey hair. “I want to hear all about your trip…”

  Gloria shook her head. Some things never did change.

  3

  Sid’s, the town’s only bar, hadn’t changed any more than Gloria’s old house had. After refusing a drink with her mother, and subsequently watching Lila drink herself back to sleep while arguing back and forth about moving to Chicago, Gloria felt like she deserved a break herself. Unlike her mother, Gloria was a very responsible drinker, and it was only in extraordinary times that she indulged in alcohol. These times certainly qualified as extraordinary in Gloria’s book.

  If anyone recognized her as she entered, they didn’t advertise it. She slipped, unmolested, through the sparse crowd to a spare table and looked wonderingly around the old bar. The same old ads behind the bar, the same dusty mirror, the same old jukebox, and what looked to be the same ratty old pool tables. Empire was like a photograph in a history book: it wouldn’t, or couldn’t, change.

  She ordered a rum and coke from a passing waitress and leaned back to watch the crowd and see if she could recognize anyone. Some of the older folks looked like they might have been members when she was a little girl, and there were one or two twenty-something’s who looked vaguely familiar as well, but the dim light of the bar didn’t make it easy to distinguish between remembered traits and imagined similarities.

  And then they walked in.

  And the dim light did nothing to dispel the immediate recognition.

  Gloria knew that she’d likely run into them eventually, but she’d hoped it wouldn’t be so damn soon.

  Did you really hope that, some voice deep inside her said teasingly, because you did choose to spend your night at the only bar in town?

  She pushed the voice away and studied the two men, now well into their twenties. They were all the same age, she and Con and Trip, so they were 28.

  Ten years, she thought, the words almost meaningless. At the same time, it felt like two days and a hundred years had passed since she’d seen them.

  Con and Trip had been like brothers to Gloria growing up. Since they were the only kids in their exact age range, they were in the same grade in school. Con, blonde and blue-eyed, had always had a boyish air about him, somewhat dampened by the growth of dark-inked tattoos across his arms and chest and crawling up his neck. Trip was dark-haired and dark-eyed, his hair falling over his forehead in messy bangs, his lips full and always pursed together in a thoughtful way.

  Their faces were so familiar, but their bodies…

  They had grown into men; that was for sure. Beyond the obvious addition of their tattoos, which were varied and numerous, they had grown into their bodies. Trip was slightly leaner, his arms tighter and his body tapering sharply at his waist. Con had bulked up considerably, his biceps beefy and his chest seeming ready to rip free of the tight shirt he wore.

  Gloria gulped and waited to see if they’d notice her.

  She hoped they would. And hoped they wouldn’t.

  Sure, she’d seen them as brothers when they were growing up – they played tricks on each other, the boys teased her with worms; they rode bikes to the town’s movie theater and threw popcorn at the screen. But then they’d all grown up – parties, drinking, racing cars and hogs and getting high under the wide Wyoming skies. And then it had happened, that one night. That one time, cut short, that left her unsteady and confused for the rest of her life.

  And they’d never looked at her the same, either.

  They sure weren’t looking at her the same now, when Trip spotted her across the bar and tapped Con on the shoulder, pointing to her, alone with her half-finished drink. They smiled. Began to move towards her. Her heart quickened, her skin flushing, her body going hot and cold at the same time.

  Oh, holy shit, she thought.

  “Glorious Gloria,” Trip said, his crooked smile just the same as she remembered. The nickname hadn’t changed, either, and it forced a sigh from her lungs that she was incapable of stopping.

  “Please,” she said, shaking her head. “I drove six hours already today, I’m not in the mood for a trip down memory lane.”

  “And which memories are you trying to avoid?” Con said, sharing a glance with Trip that made Gloria want to crawl under the table and die. But the other things under that table were exactly what she was trying to stop thinking about. She hoped the bar’s darkened lights hid the blush in her cheeks as she downed the last of her drink.

  “All I wanted was a nice, quiet drink to relax,” she moaned. “Guess that was too much to ask for at Sid’s, wasn’t it?”

  “Can’t exactly walk into the lion’s den and act like you’re surprised when they growl,” Trip said. “What are you doing back in town?”

  “Like you don’t know,” she said, signaling to her passing waitress for another rum and coke. “It sure as hell wasn’t to get reacquainted with you two.”

  “My feelings are real, you know,” Con said, feigning hurt while holding his hand over his heart. She sent him a glance that she hoped would wipe the mocking frown off his face, but he was unmoved.

  “Someone’s gotta take care of Mom,” she said finally when it became clear they weren’t going to leave without forcing her to say what they already knew. She was surprised by the look they shared, which seemed genuinely confused. When Trip turned back to her, he cocked his head, his brows slightly furrowed.

  “And you think that’s your job?” he asked. She leaned back and smiled gratefully at the waitress who deposited her drink.

  “Of course it is,” she said, her smile fading fast as she turned back to the two boys. Men, she reminded herself, they’re men now. “Who else would do it?”

  “You know we take care of our own,” Con said. Now, it was Gloria’s turn to look confused.

  “And since when do mistresses count as part of the club’s own?” she asked, hating the word “mistress” as it slid from her mouth.

  “Your Mom may not have been Gordy’s old lady, but she was his nearest and dearest, and everyone knows it. He took one for the club, we’re gonna make sure she’s alright,” Trip said, frowning as though disappointed in Gloria’s low expectations.

  “How do you propose to take care of her?” Gloria mumbled, looking down at her drink. “Money’s not gonna make sure she doesn’t pass out on her own vomit.”

  “Maybe not,” Con said. “But she’ll always have a room at the house if she wants it.”

  “She doesn’t,” Gloria said, shaking her head. She looked back up at Con and Trip and a sudden stabbing doubt shook her. They were lying. They were lying through their stupid teeth. They weren’t planning on taking care of her mother. They just wanted her to be grateful and get drunk and find herself pinned between them again. Her shoulders rose of their own accord as stress and anger bunched around her spine.

  “Listen,” she hissed, her sudden change in attitude so clear that the two men actually leaned away from her. “I don’t care what you say tonight. Actions speak louder than words. But no matter what happens, I’m here for one reason only: taking care of Mom. Nothing else is going to happen. Understand? Can y
ou get that through your thick fuckin’ skulls, or do you need me to tattoo it on your asses?”

  Con and Trip looked at each other, then back at her. Gone was the playful atmosphere that they’d approached her with. In its place, angry tension swirled between them. Con was the first to rise, reminding Gloria of the man he’d become. Trip kept his seat long enough to drag her eyes away from Con’s impressive chest and the way his tight shirt tapered down along his sculpted abs.

  “You think what you want, Gloria,” Trip said, shaking his head. “You wanna act like you’re better than us now that you’re some hotshot city girl, go right ahead. We’re gonna stay true to our cuts, and our family. You used to be part of that family. Sad to see you’ve forgotten it.”

  Why did those words make Gloria feel so awful? She’d expected just such a speech; she’d been rehearsing her reaction to it ever since she left Chicago. But coming from Trip, his dark eyes searing into hers like cattle brands, she was left speechless, the wind knocked from her as surely as if he’d punched her in the stomach. He rose, joining his brother-in-arms. They towered over her, making her feel very small and very alone.

  She hadn’t forgotten it. She’d tried to, but she never had. The feeling of being at home wherever you were, because you knew someone had your back. And there were other things she’d never forgotten, things which tugged at her heart and mind and body as she gazed upwards at the two men, their bodies so familiar and yet so different at the same time. She could remember how it felt, how right it had felt, how good, that time, so long ago, when…

  But she forced herself to push it away. So what if they were even hotter than they’d been at 18? So what if they’d given her the first hint of lust she’d ever felt? So what if her fantasies since that unfulfilled encounter had revolved around them, both of them? She was an adult now, with her own life and the ability to control her thoughts and her desires.

  “See you ‘round, Gloria” Con said, moving away from her table and towards the bar, Trip close at his heels. So they were done with her, but not done with their night. Fine. They were the ones making things awkward, then. They were the ones making her feel uncomfortable at the suddenly empty table, the half-finished drink in her hand, the sensation that all eyes were on her. Like everyone could see the effect they had on her.

  Maybe they thought that if they hung around long enough and she got a few more drinks in her, she’d soften up. Fat chance. She finished her rum and coke and slammed the empty glass on the table. She willed herself, as she left, not to look back at them. She tried as hard as she could. She failed.

  Their eyes watched her, unreadable. Did she see a softening in their gaze as she walked away, or was she imagining it? It was safer to believe she was imagining it. But somehow, she couldn’t force herself to believe that.

  4

  Gloria lay in her old bedroom, feeling nothing at all like she’d thought she would feel. She thought she’d feel disappointed, put upon, resentful…and, deep down, she did feel all those things. But on top of that simmering brew was an even more noxious sensation: lust. She hadn’t felt this overcome by her own desires since she was a teenager.

  Specifically, since the fateful day when Con and Trip had changed her forever, whether they’d meant to do it or not. They probably didn’t even know it. Who would have thought that something so short and unfinished would turn into a lifelong desire?

  It had been at a party – one of many in Gloria’s youth in the club. At 18, Gloria, Trip, and Con had known each other for a lifetime already. The two boys were well on their way to being initiated into the club, while Gloria had been secretly honing her artistic skills in hopes of making it out. In those days, before they were legally allowed to imbibe, the club’s teenage denizens waited until the adults were all properly soused to sneak out a couple bottles and have a party of their own, wherever was most convenient.

  That night, Gloria remembered vividly, it had been at her own house. Fifteen or so kids of various ages congregated there to sip stolen whiskey and get rowdy – they didn’t have to be very secretive about it, just quiet enough that the cops weren’t called. It wasn’t like their parents were going to punish them.

  Gloria had just inserted a very drunk, very sick young girl – she had to be 15 or so – into her bed. Even at 18, Gloria felt like she spent a lot of her time taking care of others. She set a bucket next to the bed and hoped the girl would have the sense to throw up into the bucket instead of all over Gloria’s sheets and blankets. Turning around, seeing Trip stepping through the doorway had nearly given her a heart attack, but she was drunk enough herself for that fear to quickly change to sloppy laughter.

  “Lookin’ for the bathroom,” Trip had said, his words slurring slightly. “Guess I tried the wrong door.”

  Even with the whiskey making her eyes swim, Gloria could see the way he was looking at her - pure, unadulterated, teenage lust. Her laughter died on her lips, and she suddenly felt thirsty. At 18, Trip was the most handsome boy in the bunch, next to Con. She hadn’t been totally oblivious to his interest in her either; she had a lot to offer, with her C-cup breasts and curvy hips. Her stomach fluttered under his gaze, heat rising to her cheeks.

  Not supposed to be getting involved with club boys, she told herself, her goal to make it out of Empire always first in her mind. But when he took a step forward, she didn’t step back. She wanted, at least for a moment, to not be living in some future fantasy. She’d never been with a boy before, only a few sloppy kisses that hadn’t made her feel anything at all. She felt more standing in that room with Trip than she had during any round of tonsil hockey with hormone-crazed kids.

  “Wrong door,” she found herself saying, nodding dumbly as she tried to make sense of the reality in contrast to her drunken desires. She and Trip were just friends. He didn’t want her like that, did he? And if he did, so what? She had to keep herself in line, or she’d end up like her mother.

  “Found something else, though,” he said, that crooked smile he always wore sending hot flashes throughout her body. Her heart quickened.

  “Wh…what do you mean?” she asked, quite sure that she already knew the answer.

  “You don’t ever have much fun anymore, do you, Gloria?” Trip said, moving even closer. Gloria willed her body to block him, but she didn’t. Even when he closed the distance between them, his much-larger frame hard and heavy against hers, she couldn’t move. He wrapped his arms around her waist and suddenly yanked her closer; she felt something hard against her thigh and knew what it was.

  At the same moment, her body told her that she wanted it. She barely knew what it would feel like, but she knew she wanted it. Right then, from him, she wanted it. And when he leaned down and kissed her, she didn’t just want it. She needed it.

  Gloria heard herself moan against his lips, his tongue finding its place in her mouth, his kiss surprisingly gentle for his youthful fervor. His hands lowered to grab her ass and squeeze her tighter against him.

  She suddenly remembered the girl sleeping behind them and pulled away, meaning to tell him that they would need to find someplace more private. There was no stopping her desire then; she was a slave to her body’s burning. For the first time, she felt like a woman instead of a girl, and she wanted the feeling to last.

  And as he slipped his thigh between her legs, pressing upwards against the crotch of her jeans, she felt the flames lighting in her womb, a terrible hunger awakening inside her. The words she meant to say devolved into a moan as her head rolled backwards on her neck, and he took the chance to kiss the flesh there, making her skin shiver and hair stand up.

  “Shiiiiiiit,” a voice said from the still-open doorway. Gloria went rigid all over and Trip took his lips and tongue away from her flesh; her body screamed in protest, wanting more. She opened her eyes to see Con standing in the doorway, a smile on his face. When he stepped forward, Gloria struggled to escape Trip’s grip, but he held tight. She looked at him, anger and lust and confusion flashing in her ey
es.

  “Let me go, Trip,” she said, but the hesitation in her voice was clear to everyone listening.

  “Why?” Trip asked.

  “Con’s, like, right there,” she said, stumbling over her words. In fact, Con was not “right there” anymore; she realized that she’d been lost in Trip’s eyes and Con had moved all the way across the room. She could feel the heat of him behind her, and when Trip pressed forward slightly, her back hit the hard plane of Con’s chest. She trembled, her body screaming with desire while her mind tumbled to try and make sense of everything.

  “So?” Trip asked, returning his lips to her neck, making her sigh and melt against them both. Trip’s hands had moved to her hair, raking through the strands and making her shudder. She could feel the hardness of Con’s cock against her ass, as she was ground between them, Trip’s thigh still nestled underneath her slit and Con’s hands coming around to cup her chest. Her mind was racing. This was wrong, it was right, she didn’t care, she just wanted it, wanted all of it, wanted all of them, for this one moment, this one night, she wanted to let herself…

  And then there was a crash in the living room. The sound was so jarring that all three of them stopped moving at the same time. And in that moment, Gloria remembered where she was, whom she was with, what was happening. And she struggled free, breathing heavily as she ran for the door. What had just happened? What was she about to do? How could she have..?

  “Fuck,” she heard Con’s voice behind her and she couldn’t stop herself from looking back. The two boys were gazing at her, halfway out the door, her hair a mess and her shirt rumpled, her cheeks rosy and her chest heaving. And, though they couldn’t see it, Gloria felt like they knew her panties were damp. She’d never gotten wet like that before – ever.