“I’m sorry,” she said, not sure who she was really apologizing to. Was she apologizing to them, or to herself? But she turned away then, and left them behind.
It wasn’t long after that incident that she managed to make her great getaway and move to Chicago to go to art school on a scholarship. Things had never been the same between the three lifelong friends after that night. Always, behind their eyes, was the unspoken lust that they’d only awakened that night. A lust that had never fallen back asleep, no matter how Gloria tried to forget it.
She would always wonder what it would have felt like to have them both at the same time, to let them ravish her body the way she’d wanted them to. What it would have felt like to give in, truly give in, to her desires. She had resigned herself to never finding out.
But that night, lying in the spare bed, she wondered if she’d been right to leave the room that night. If all the years since, the years of wondering and longing, could have been avoided. And if, now that she was back with no idea how to get out again, she might finally put it all to rest.
One part of her cried yes, that she would finally know what she’d wondered for so long. Another revolted against the idea, the depravity of it; the fact that she’d come too far to fall back into the arms of the club. She tossed and turned in bed for hours, trying to forget the way Trip had tasted, the feel of Con’s strong hands on her breasts…
5
Con and Trip sat at the bar for a long time that night, talking about new times and future plans – but, mostly, they talked about old times - because of her, of course. Because after all those years, they’d seen her again, and the two men, close as brothers, had never forgotten her.
Trip remembered how she’d eaten Oreos as a kid, twisting them apart, licking out the insides, and then pressing the two chocolate wafers together to dip in milk. Con remembered how, when she was 14, she’d given him his first stick-and-poke tattoo, still one of his favorites, a sloppy heart with a dagger through it on his ribs. And Trip remembered her mouth, warm and wet on his and so willing to take what he wanted to give her. And Con remembered her breasts in his hands, the way her hips had undulated against his.
She had grown up to be more beautiful than either had imagined. Hair long and blonde, eyes so blue they hurt to look at, her body grown into its perfect female curves.
Con drew his hand through his hair and sighed.
“Shit, man,” he said. “I never thought she’d come home.”
“She hasn’t,” Trip said, jaw set tight. “She’s just visiting or some shit, I bet. She doesn’t even realize this is her home.”
“She does,” Con argued, nodding up at the ceiling. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”
“And how do you propose she’ll figure it out?” Trip asked sarcastically, drinking long from his frosted beer. Con shot him a smile that Trip had no choice but to return. He chuckled slightly, eyebrows raised.
“I guess that could work,” Trip said, sighing. “At least, it’s worth a shot.”
“Think she’ll come around?”
“She wanted it then,” Trip said with a shrug. “Who knows what women ever want, though?”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Con said, clinking the neck of his bottle against Trip’s.
6
For two days, Gloria labored to get her mother’s house into some semblance of order. Out went the empty bottles, in came cleaning supplies. Out went moldy food and in came vegetables. Lila watched it all over the rim of her beer, eyes vacant and lazy, hope a foreign concept. Gloria thought that, if she gave her mother a nicer place to live, Lila might take interest in her own life. But after two days, when the house was as clean as Gloria could get it, Lila was still determined to stay where she was, alone if need be, and to die her slow, soused death.
Gloria was at the kitchen table, going through her mother’s slapdash version of a checkbook and trying to make sense off what Lila was living off of, when the knock came. Gloria looked expectantly at Lila, who was watching some old movie on the TV. She’d upgraded to a color TV, at least, in the years Gloria had been gone. When the woman showed no sign of getting up to answer the door, Gloria pushed her chair back and made a scene of crossing the room to greet their unexpected guests.
“Oh,” Gloria said when she saw the two men on her doorstep. “It’s you.”
“Nice to see you again, too,” Trip said, one eyebrow raised.
“What do you want?” Gloria said, willing her heart to stop beating so damn fast. She wasn’t 18 anymore. She didn’t need to get all hot and bothered when she saw them.
“We came to talk to Lila,” Con said, stepping forward, the movement forcing Gloria to step back. The two men entered the house without invitation, settling into the living room as they belonged there. When Lila finally looked up to see who had taken up the extra space on the couch, she smiled lazily.
“Oh, boys, it’s nice to see you,” she said, seeming genuinely pleased. Gloria fumed as she shut the door. “Can I get you a drink?”
”Not today, Li,” Trip said, offering her a warm smile. Gloria leaned against the wall opposite the couch, arms crossed around her chest. Whatever game they were playing, she didn’t want any part of it.
“We came to drop this off,” Con said, sliding a thick envelope from his jacket pocket and laying it on the table. “It’s half of Gordy’s cut from the deal he got picked up for. The other half, we had to give it to Suzy, but you deserve it as much as she does.”
Lila flinched at Suzy’s name. The other woman. The wife. The old lady. The first choice. She didn’t move to look at what was inside the envelope.
“And we also wanted to tell you,” Trip said, patting the old woman’s knee, “that we’d like to see you come on down to the club and take a room there. You’ll have good company there. Some of the other chicks are settled up nice. It’ll be easier than taking care of this old place by yourself, and we think Gordy would want it.”
“I don’t want to go,” Lila said, her jaw stiffening. She turned away from the two men, her body going rigid. Con looked at Gloria, his eyes asking her to step in. Gloria’s mind was racing. She didn’t want her mother staying here by herself. She couldn’t bear the thought of her mother rotting to death alone in the lonely old shack. And Lila had refused – time and again, with fervor – the offer of Chicago, of a rehab or even just an apartment. Maybe the club was the best place for her mother.
“Please, Lila,” Trip said, and Gloria was amazed by the genuine lilt in his voice. “We all think of you as family, and we just want to know you’re happy and in a good place.”
Gloria’s heart softened slightly as she looked at the men trying to do right by her mother. How many times had they visited her, Gloria wondered? Probably more often than Gloria herself did. She remembered how they’d all grown up together; before Lila had gone from bad to worse, she knew, Con and Trip had treated her like a beloved aunt, an extended family just like anyone else in the club. A sick feeling settled in Gloria’s stomach as she realized that while she was gone, they’d never forgotten Lila; that they still cared.
Of course they do, Gloria thought, sadness stabbing her heart. They’re family. They’re…they’re your family. This is your home…
The part of Gloria that hated it - hated the town, hated the club - revolted against the thought. But the seed was planted, and Gloria felt remorse building inside her. She’d made a new life for herself in Chicago, a good life, but had it really made her happy? She had no family there, few friends, and no real relationships. She always felt out of place, like she didn’t really belong.
“Mom,” she said, her mouth taking over on its own accord, “I really think you ought to consider it.”
“I never belonged there,” Lila said, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the sad grimace that accompanied her words.
“Of course you did, and you always will,” Con said, his voice firm and unyielding. And then he glanced at Gloria, and she felt herself shaken to her c
ore. “You both do.”
7
Gloria listened to the ticking of the engine as her car cooled down. She wished she could be turned off as easily as her automobile. The night before, after Con and Trip had left, she had once more lain tangled in the sheets, her heart thumping as she tried to push the memories and the fantasies both from her mind. And then, when she’d finally slept, she’d been rocked and shaken by dreams that left her gasping, the sheets sweaty, and her body trembling with a fiery need.
And under it all, the growing sensation that she’d made a mistake all those years ago.
Now, she looked at the club headquarters for the first time in ten years. The house was one of Empire’s only really nice houses. Built in the 90’s, it was all wood and marble, nestled into a small hillside that provided the town’s only swath of forest. She’d played in that pool behind it on 4th of July. She’d run barefoot through the grounds with hot dogs in her hands. She’d built snowmen on the front lawn. One time, she’d been so hopped up on caffeine and sugar that she ran straight into a sliding glass door and knocked it off its hinges.
The headquarters seemed unnaturally quiet on that day. Usually, you could see motorcycles and men coming and going at all hours, women lounging around in the yard smoking cigarettes and chatting, kids with nothing better to do climbing trees. But there were only a handful of bikes in the carport, and no signs of life on the grounds. All the better for Gloria, she had to admit. She’d come there that day to put some things to rest, and she didn’t need an audience to do it. She just hoped that the men she’d come to see would be there.
Getting out of her car, the sound of her door closing seemed to alert the house’s current inhabitants, and a figure appeared in the front door; Gloria couldn’t make it out. But, as she walked closer, her heart leapt upwards; that was Trip, no doubt about it. As she approached, he swung the door open and looked at her expectantly.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise?” he said slowly, studying her from top to bottom. She felt naked in his gaze, even though she’d dressed pretty conservatively in a pair of hip-hugging jeans and a black t-shirt.
“I…I came to talk to you,” she said. “And Con.”
“Oh, did you now?” Trip said, and Gloria blushed at the smile he offered her. “Then come on in.”
Inside, the smell of booze and cigarettes was doing battle with the smell of Lysol and fresh linen. A woman Gloria didn’t recognize was wiping down the surfaces in the living room that served as the club’s meeting ground; there must have been a meeting not too long ago, because empty beer cans filled with butts littered the tables and floor.
“Hey, Erin,” Trip said to the woman, who was about Lila’s age but looked younger. “Me and Con got business up in the throne room. Don’t let anyone up there, okay?”
“Aye,” the woman replied in a soft Irish accent. Where’d she come from? Gloria wondered, thinking that things had changed a lot more than she thought. And then her mind caught up to what Trip had said; the throne room? He saw her questioning glance and chuckled.
“After you left, when Trip and I were initiated into the club, we took over some of the accounting and shit from Croaker. What with all our high school book learnin’ and stuff,” he said with a wink. “We got our own room up top to look over the books.”
“So you guys don’t ride for the club?” Gloria asked, her head cocked, as she followed Trip through the hallways she remembered so clearly from her childhood, all leading to rooms that were different but the same – and called to her in haunting voices, made her stomach feel weak.
“Oh, we sure as hell do,” Trip said, looking back at her with a serious nod. “Don’t think for a moment we let the old men get all the action.”
All the action, Gloria thought, her rational mind rearing up again. All the action that’ll get you killed or jailed…
But there wasn’t time for her to ruminate on that. As Trip led her up the stairs and through a doorway, she felt her heart double its beat. The room was sparse, with a single writing desk against one wall and a sofa against another, a few bookshelves with binders and ledgers and a mini-fridge in the corner.
What had changed her heartbeat, though, was the sight of Con, near the window, where a set of free weights lay on the ground. He’d been working out; he was shirtless, and his chest glistened over the tapestry of tattoos. His eyebrows rose in surprise when he saw the visitor Trip had brought with him.
The door closed behind Gloria with a soft click, and Trip walked past her towards the writing desk, where he leaned back and looked at her expectantly.
“Gloria,” Con said, slightly out of breath, sitting on a small bench used for lifting. “What’re you doing here?”
His face was unreadable, the glance he shared with Trip giving no sign of their mood or thoughts. She shifted uncomfortably in place, wondering if she should sit down. She decided not to.
“I came to…uh…thank you,” she finally said, her eyes darting back and forth from man to man. “For what you did – are doing – for Lila. I looked at the envelope – that was very generous. And I…I appreciate you trying to get her out of that house. She still doesn’t want to go, but I’m going to try and convince her.”
Con nodded, rising to his feet. Gloria couldn’t tear her eyes from his chiseled chest. The smell of man filled the room and made her feel a little woozy. Was she really standing there? Had she really come to them like this? What had she been thinking? She couldn’t do this, could she? It was ridiculous, the idea that she could finally get all those dirty thoughts out of her head by…just by…
“Of course,” Trip said, interrupting her train of thought. “Like we said, we take care of our own.”
“I understand,” Gloria stammered, trying to keep her eyes on his nose, his lips, anywhere but his eyes. Looking into them was too much.
“There something else you came here for?” Con asked, stepping across the room, his voice impassive but his eyes brightly curious and – perhaps – knowing. She blinked. There was something else she’d come here for, wasn’t there?
But she was having second thoughts. Still, a voice inside her told her that this was her only chance. If she left then, without satisfying her curiosity, she’d only face more sleepless nights, more sweating dreams, more of that deep-down ache that kept her from ever being satisfied. She swallowed hard and tried to remember the speech she’d practiced on the drive over.
“Do you remember-,” she said, her voice low, her eyes down, her body shaking, “a night? Right before I left? There was a party at my house. And…”
She looked up; the men were staring at her, stoic and impassive. Maybe she had all this wrong. Maybe they didn’t remember at all. Surely, they had plenty of girls since her, and she wasn’t that special, was she?”
“Oh, never mind,” she said, her voice trembling. This was wrong; it was all wrong. She’d been stupid to come here and expect…
“No,” Con said, his voice stern. “Tell us. Tell us what you remember.”
“I…I was putting a girl to sleep in my room and…and you…you both…”
Now, the men shared a knowing glance, and was that a smile she saw pass between them?
“I have a vague recollection,” Trip said, pushing himself off the desk to approach her. She flinched slightly as his hand rose to sweep a strand of hair from her face, the feel of his fingertips on her flesh lighting fires throughout her nerves. “I recall doing something like this.”
He leaned in, and before Gloria’s mind could catch up to her body, he was kissing her, his lips against hers, making her whole body buzz. Yes, she thought, yes, just like this, oh god, it was just like this…
She was 18 again, and he was kissing her, his tongue slipping between her lips to explore her mouth, his hands skimming down her body…
But then he pulled away, leaving her starry-eyed and panting.
“Was that it?” he asked, voice low and rumbling. Her voice caught in her throat and she could only nod.
“But that wasn’t all, was it?”
Con’s voice came from behind her; she had been so lost in the kiss, in the feeling of passion that she’d tried to forget for years, that she hadn’t noticed him crossing the room. Suddenly, she felt his lips landing against the plane of her neck, her body reacting with explosions of need as his hands moved to cup her heavy breasts from below.
“Oh,” she managed to say before Trip’s lips closed over her own again, his hands moving to cup her ass and force her thighs apart slightly, his leg moving between her legs, pressing upwards, towards her center. Con’s hands massaged her breasts through her shirt as his tongue danced up and down her neck. Sensation after spine-tingling sensation washed over Gloria as the two men recreated the scene that had changed her, destroyed her- tortured her- for ten long years.
And then, as suddenly as it had been over ten years earlier, they pulled away.
“Wait,” she heard her voice say, confusion breaking through the fog of need in her brain. “Don’t…”
“That was a long time ago, Gloria,” Con whispered in her ear from behind, his voice snaking through her brain and making her shudder.
“So?” she whispered, opening her eyes to see Trip staring down at her, his nostrils flaring, his neck red. “I still…I never…I never stopped wanting it…”
“But we’re not kids anymore,” Trip said, taking her chin in his hand. Disappointment was like a bomb in her stomach. They didn’t want her. They didn’t care. They weren’t going to…
But then why did she feel Con’s hands at the base of her shirt, pulling upwards, the act so shocking that she instinctually raised her hands to let him rip it off her, exposing her bare stomach? And then – he unlatched her bra, her large breasts bouncing as he did away with that, too, the cold air in the room making her nipples stand straight.
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