A Lil' Less Hopeless

by Tara Oakes

  What hurt worse, though, was when she asked me to reconsider being a bridesmaid in her own wedding. I had already bought the dress, ordered the shoes and picked the perfect gift to give her. I was really looking forward to it. We've grown our separate ways over the years, but we had a lot of history. I thought that counted for something. Apparently not. Jess doesn’t want a known biker sitting at her bridal table as my date.

  Regardless... I'm glad she's gonna tag along tonight. Maybe we can patch things up a bit.

  “Great. So, we'll meet up with you guys at my house later.”

  I give them each a quick peck on the cheek before Sunny wisps Jess out the door into the parking lot.

  Once the door fully shuts behind them, it's free reign.

  “This is either going to turn out really good... or really bad.” I nod at Charlie's observation.

  Jean pops up behind us, finished with the last details of her dress alterations. “You girls ready to go?”

  Charlie smiles awkwardly at Jean. They've only met a handful of times so far, but Charlie always seems uneasy around Ma. Like she's waiting for her to turn around and bite her or something.

  I smile, “I am soo ready to get out of here. But... still no dress. I'm seriously running out of time. Unless I want to get married in jeans and a T shirt, we'd best hit up another store.”

  I slide my sunglasses on.

  “Don't you worry, I've got just the thing.” Ma puts her arms around both Charlie and myself and pushes us lovingly out the door.

  We pile into Jean's Escalade. Charlie looks unsure at first, as she had driven with Sunny on the way in, but she eventually follows suit and hops in the back seat. We buckle up and I blast the AC. It is damn hot today. Lately, I'm either freezing cold or scorching hot, with no happy middle ground.

  Country music croons from the hidden speakers and we roll out into traffic.

  “We'll stop at my house before we go back to the club. I have something for you,” Jean explains, as we start to head in the opposite direction than what I was expecting.

  Vince and Jean's house is fairly large, especially for two people. I spent a lot of time here when I was younger, with Jean babysitting Tiny and me. When Jay and I first got together, before he bought his house, we were here a lot. The spacious entryway opens into other rooms but Charlie hangs back as Jean and I disappear into one of them.

  “Charlie girl...” Jean calls out when we realize we are one man down. “Get your little ass in here. There's an open door policy for family.”

  Charlie finally joins us in the back of the house as we near Jean's bedroom, looking white as a ghost.

  “What's wrong, Charlie?” I hold out to her and help her to sit on the edge of the settee in the corner of the room. Her eyes dart around the room, taking in the surroundings.

  She clears her throat. “Uh... nothing... nothing’s wrong,” she says unconvincingly. “I... I'm just a little flushed from the heat outside is all.”

  Jean and I share a glance. She nods to both of us and disappears, on a mission. I turn back to Charlie, and rest my hand on her knee. It's ice cold. Funny... for someone overheating, her skin is frigid. And her lip is trembling a little.

  “I know what's really bothering you,” I let out. Her eyes widen and she stares at me. “The whole 'family' thing.”

  I swear she stops breathing. Man, this girl must have some deep-seated commitment issues. “Relax... it's not like he asked you to be his ol' lady or anything, yet.”

  Her eyes furrow, confused.

  “It's just...” I bite my cheek. It's not as easy as you'd think it would be to explain our ways to someone new. “See... as long as your with Clink... you're family. I mean you're obviously more than a piece of ass to him. So... Jean... and everybody else thinks of you as part of us.”

  As if on cue, Jean strides in with a tray of iced tea and some glasses. She pours Charlie a glass and hands it to her. Charlie downs the whole thing while Jean and I watch dumbfounded.

  “Better?” Jean asks as she refills the iced tea for Charlie.

  Charlie nods and attempts a smile as Ma moves on to my glass before filling her own.

  The cold liquid instantly cools my burning insides, and before I can help, it I belch and hiccup at the same time.

  In unison, Jean and Charlie break out in laughter at my expense. Whatever. Anything to lighten the mood. I mean, I'm pregnant. I have very little control over more bodily functions than I'd care to admit to, at this stage.

  Jean sets her glass down. “Now.” She claps her hands together and rubs furiously. “The main event.”

  She practically hops into her massive walk-in closet and we hear crashing and crumpling noises. Less than a minute later she emerges carrying a monstrous cardboard box so delicately, you'd swear it was the royal tea service. Charlie and I stand and meet Jean as she places the box on the foot of the bed.

  “This...” Ma begins to explain as she opens the package and pushes aside the papered wrapping inside. She grabs hold of something within, and pulls it free, shaking it out. “This... is your wedding dress.”

  I gasp. It's so beautiful... that it's actually breathtaking. The simplicity of the lines and sheerness to the fabric are so simple that they are intricately ornate at the same time.

  I look up at Jean, beaming from behind the full-length dress.

  “Are you sure? I couldn't. I couldn't possibly...”

  Jean rolls her eyes and shakes the playful frustration away before she thrusts the dress into my arms and pushes me in the direction of the bathroom.

  “You can and you will. You are the closest thing to a daughter I could ever ask for. My son is going to make you his wife and you are going to wear this dress while he does it. No arguments.”

  She shuts the door behind me as I enter the huge bathroom, leaving me no choice but to delicately hang the dress on the wall hook and strip.

  I hear muffled voices through the door as Jean and Charlie make small talk. Once the dress is settled on my shoulders and I'm not in danger of flashing anyone, I step out into the bedroom.

  The girls have their backs turned discussing a framed picture of Jay as a child when I awkwardly clear my throat.

  They end their conversation mid-sentence and turn to stare at me. I... I really like the way the dress looks in the mirror. No, I fucking love the way the dress looks. But, neither one of them are saying anything. Maybe it's just hopeless and I have no clue what I'm doing.

  “You. Look. Stunning.” Charlie exclaims, finally blinking and walking over to me.

  Ma hasn't moved, hasn't spoken. She's just standing there watching me. But then I see the tears start to fall, and I come dangerously close to falling apart... in the best, most perfect way possible.

  “I... I need a zip.” I turn, exposing my bare back, and hiding my strained facial muscles. Very few people cry pretty in this world. If you are one of them, count yourself lucky. The rest of us... well, we have to struggle with it.

  I wipe the happy tears on the back of my hand before Charlie discreetly hands me a tissue, and I feel the bodice close itself around me snuggly while the zipper is secured.

  Ma guides me over to the full-length mirror and we stare at the reflection, her hands resting protectively on my shoulders. “Perfect fit. I don't think we even need to do any alterations.”

  I exhale deeply. What a relief. It's been a week since Jay made the announcement to the club that we were moving up the wedding and I was seriously running out of time to find a dress. Not only did I finally find a dress... but I found the dress. Everything was falling into place.

  ******

  We drop the dress off at the cleaners to be freshened up, and make our way back to the clubhouse. Jean heads inside to escape the heat, leaving us behind. I grab my purse and close the car door, stepping in the direction of the clubhouse entrance, but notice Charlie hesitating from my side-view.

  “You coming?”

  She chews on her lower lip, mulling over the choice
. “I... I think I'm just gonna head home and catch a nap before tonight.”

  I eye her carefully. I've gotten to know Charlie pretty well over the last few weeks since first meeting her. She's spent more than handful of nights here at the club with Clink and she set me up with a really great OBGYN over at the hospital. We may not be besties yet, but I know her well enough to know something was off.

  “Ok. You want me to go tell Clink?” I volunteer.

  She shakes her head thoughtfully while rummaging around in her purse. “No, you don't have to do that. I'll see him whenever.”

  She fiddles with her keys and leans forward to kiss my cheek. “I'll meet you at your house at nine.”

  I nod.

  “And, Lil's?”

  I perk up.

  “You looked gorgeous in your dress.”

  She heads off toward her car, and I back into the shade from the overhang. Nice girl. But just a bit strange.

  CHAPTER THREE

  CLINK

  The chick is crazy. I know she's not from around here, and doesn't know the lifestyle, but I think she's plain old crazy some times.

  According to Lil's, she's having some sort of freakout session. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear she must be on the rag. But, I can safely say that's not possible. I made that girl scream my name so fucking loud last night, the prospects even blushed when they saw her the next day.

  Not only did she leave without saying a word to me after dress shopping with the girls, then I come to find a folded check wedged under my helmet when I get to my bike.

  A perfectly neat check in the amount of $238.67 from a Miss Charlotte Anderson made out to cash. I tear up the check into a dozen pieces and throw it into the wind. I stomp back into the clubhouse and step just far enough into it to spot Jay sitting at the bar, Lil's spread out in his lap making googly eyes at him. These two need to knock this shit off.

  “Hey, brother!” Every man in leather turns to me. My bad. Should have been more specific. “Jay! That detail that's running later tonight?”

  He nods.

  “Yeah... I changed my mind. I want in on it.”

  I slam the door behind me, throw my shades on and take off on my bike, ready to take out my anger on the asphalt. My mind races as I head over to Pippin's, a local bar on the other side of town.

  This broad has some damn nerve. I've taken my time, been open-minded. I know she doesn't know how things run around here, but there's only so much I can fuckin' take. I spend my money wherever, whenever, and on whoever I goddamned well please.

  If she needs a crash course in Kingsmen 101, it's time to stop pussyfooting around and just start the schooling already. Tonight is lesson #1.

  In the meantime, I have work to do. We've gotten word that the fat fuck we found unconscious in the upstairs bathroom of the farmhouse the night we rescued Lil's has been released on bail. We've been coming up empty handed on almost all fronts and time was nearly running out. Our informants have gotten word that they're getting ready to arrest Lil's soon on suspicion. If we don't get our shit together before then, this is going to have a pretty shitty ending.

  Pippin's is a tiny little pub, mainly for the blue collar crowd. Great fucking burgers, though. Word on the street is that the fat guy is renting one of the efficiency rooms upstairs. I think I'll go pay him a visit.

  ******

  “Medium well, darlin. And throw some bacon on that bad boy, will ya?”

  The waitress nods and jots down my order. “Ah... you've got a little... blood on your shirt.”

  I look down. Well looky here. Guess I do. “Nasty little cut before. I'll take a Guinness while I wait for my burger. Bathroom?” I hold out my finger pointing around. I forgot where the damn john is in this place.

  The forty-something woman points to the far right hand corner and forces a smile before hightailing it to the kitchen.

  The bathroom is empty and I manage to soap up some paper towels and scrub at the spot on my shirt. Doesn't really matter if it comes out or not. I'll buy another. I move the scrubbing over to my hands. The tricky thing about blood is, once it's scrubbed off, it still leaves a stain behind for a while. That fucker upstairs is gonna be scrubbing himself for weeks.

  Back at my table, I nurse the beer bottle. I reach for my phone and check in with Jay.

  ME: TOOK CARE OF THE PROBLEM

  NO WORD ON PRETTY BOY

  GOT A POSSIBLE LOCATION

  FOR THE POLE QUEEN

  FORWARDED IT TO LEO

  The big guy wasn't exactly happy to see me, once he saw the patches on my cut. Even though he wasn't wearing his own anymore. The Slayers have pretty much disbanded or gone underground after what's happened with Shade. But once a Slayer, always a Slayer. He could've saved me a hell of a lot of trouble, not to mention some sore knuckles and a ruined shirt if he just cooperated in the first place.

  In the end I got what I needed and left him needing some stitches. We knew he wasn't the shooter, unless he somehow managed to shoot the asshole, race back upstairs, knock himself out cold and then lock himself in a room from the inside. But... there was a good chance he knew where his fellow Slayer, the Pretty Boy, was.

  Turns out, he didn't. But, he had a good idea where Vicky was. Somewhere in Texas. Leo, will use whatever superhuman cyberspace bullshit he does to try to get an exact location. My burger finally arrives and I take a huge bite, a bit of the grease dribbling down my chin. The waitress brings me some extra napkins and I give her a wink.

  I watch her as she struts away. Nice ass for a forty-year-old. Speaking of nice ass... I wipe the grease from my fingers and pick up my phone once again.

  ME: YOU SEEMED TO HAVE

  MISPLACED A CHECK

  I polish off my beer and most of the burger, and settled the bill. The sun is setting as my phone buzzes and I reach my bike.

  SUGAR TITS: JUST PAYING YOU BACK

  I DON'T NEED A SUGAR DADDY

  The thought of her calling me daddy right now is doing things to my dick. It's been less than a day since I've been inside that girl and I was aching to do it again.

  ME: GOOD TO KNOW

  I RIPPED UP THE CHECK

  AND KEEP CALLING ME DADDY...

  I LIKE IT

  I stash my phone back in my pocket and take off toward my place. I haven't been there much lately, either spending the night with Charlie at the clubhouse or crashing at her place. The lights are on when I pull up the drive, the automatic timers obviously working well.

  I quickly shower and shave, taking a little extra time to groom the southern region. Sugar likes it trimmed neat, and, man, I fucking love when she appreciates the goods. So if that means I keep it short, then it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for her kind of appreciation. It usually ends with me marveling at her lack of gag reflex.

  A little cologne, some hair gel, a hot new pair of jeans, and, a muscle shirt top off the look. It takes me a few minutes to track down the first aid kit, but I manage to find it and lather on the antibiotic ointment to my shredded knuckles.

  I grab a handful of condoms from the top drawer, shoving them in my pocket and throw my cut on, while heading out the door.

  ******

  CHARLIE

  Damn him. I throw my phone back into my bag and curse him under my breath. I keep trying to distance myself from him, push him away. But, somehow it always lands me in his bed. I only need him to stay close to the club, I tell myself. To do that, I shouldn't need to spend every damned night with him. Yet... that's where I find myself again and again. In his bed, or in my bed with him. He infuriates me more than I thought possible.

  The more of a bitch I am to him, the more he seems to like it. I need to rethink my strategy. But... I don't need to think about that tonight. Tonight is a girl's night. No Clink, no spying, no telling cover stories. Just the girls, some booze, a couple of strippers, some good music and a chance to dance. That neanderthal and his archaic, warped sense of chivalry can wait till tomorrow. I'm not even going to bo
ther writing him a new check. I'll go to the bank, withdraw the cash and shove it so far up his....

  The doorbell rings just as I'm imagining what I'd like to do to that hot-ass bad boy.

  “Can you get that, Charlie?” Lil's call out from her bedroom where Sunny's busy dolling her up.

  I make my way through the gaggle of half-naked girls buzzing around tramping themselves up. The doorbell rings again. Come on! I take my aggression out on the innocent shoe in front of me and kick a stiletto out of the way.

  I swing the door open, and plaster the best “hostess with the mostest” grin on.

  Hell to the no! Two bikers stand on the porch, leaning against the railings. And who do you think is front and center. Yup. Mr. “Do as I say and like it”. I slam the door shut.

  I barely make it ten steps before I hear the door open and close behind me. I bite my lip... hard. Strong arms pull me back into a rock hard chest.

  “Good to see you too, Sugar.” He growls into my ear, his wandering hands greeting me in their own right.

  I elbow him and push myself away.

  “Why are you here?” I demand.

  He closes in on me, trapping me in a corner. One of the girls I've just met tonight, Christine, I think her name is... rolls her eyes in disgust and walks right by us holding her hands up as if we're contagious. Bitch.

  “I'm on duty tonight, Sugar,” he drawls out.

  I squint my eyes. “Then you should probably get out of here and get to work.”

  He laughs. It's not necessarily a friendly laugh. “Baby... I'm already working.”

  “I thought they were sending prospects?” We both turn to the bubbly blonde holding a red Solo cup behind us.