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Brute: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Dark Vultures MC) (Asphalt Sins Book 4)

Page 7

by Naomi West


  “Have a seat.” Lorenna gestured at a kitchen table while she busied herself between the fridge and several cabinets. When she joined them, she had a pitcher of lemonade, three glasses, and a tray of cookies that looked homemade. She glanced at Rascal before turning a bright eye to Vera. “Now, why don’t you start by introducing me.”

  “This is Vera,” Rascal said, complying. “We just met last night, but she’s in some trouble.”

  One of Lorenna’s slim eyebrows went up in curiosity, her focus still on Vera. “May I ask what kind of trouble?”

  Shifting uncomfortably on the wooden chair, Vera touched a drop of condensation on the outside of her glass. It was better to have something to focus on besides herself. “I don’t really know,” she admitted. “I don’t remember anything, and what evidence I can find seems to indicate that I was running away.”

  Lorenna’s eyes were a hard, pale blue as she turned back to Rascal. “Amnesia? Have you taken her to a hospital?”

  “No!” Vera burst out. “I’m not going to a hospital!”

  Rascal gestured mildly toward her with his hand. “As you can see, I haven’t.”

  “Well, why not? I’m sure there’s something they can do. Even if they can’t bring your memory back, they can do some tests for head injuries or other damages. Or maybe put you in some sort of therapy so you can start remembering again.”

  She looked genuinely concerned for Vera’s health, which only made Vera feel worse about not going. But the resistance to the hospital was a big one, like a large dark wall in her brain that surrounded even the thought of visiting a healthcare facility. “I just can’t. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “Vera needs a place to stay,” Rascal summarized. “I thought we would check with you first and see if you an available room.”

  That same worry that had had overcome Vera when Rascal had first suggested they come to Lorenna took over her again. What if she didn’t have the space? Or what if she simply wasn’t interested in helping out some strange girl who didn’t know more than her name? Lorenna might have helped Rascal in the past, but that didn’t mean she was interested in Vera.

  The older woman watched her for a long moment, her face neutral. “I do have a free room, actually. I just had a young woman move out a few weeks ago. She had run away from home and needed some space to figure out who she was and what she wanted out of life. Not unlike you in many ways, I think. Being out here in the desert did a lot for her, and I like to think she was better off for having spent her time with me.”

  Vera pushed down the bubble of hope that threatened to rise up in her throat. Nothing was definite yet. “How much do you charge?” she asked quietly, thinking about the wad of cash in her suitcase. It looked like a lot of money, but she knew it wouldn’t last forever. Eventually, she would need to get a job, but she didn’t even know what her skills were.

  Lorenna’s smooth hand covered hers. “Honey, I never charge any money. I just ask that you work for your room and board. As I’m sure you might have seen, I keep a sizable vegetable garden in the back yard, and I pride myself on my floral achievements in the front. There’s plenty to keep up with out there, not to mention doing dishes, sweeping floors, and cooking. Do you think you’re up for it?”

  There was a challenge in the older woman’s eyes, but Vera suddenly felt more comfortable. She couldn’t explain why, but the sort of work that had been described sounded simple. “Yes,” she replied confidently. “I can do that.”

  Lorenna looked pleased. “Well, then you’re already off on a better foot than most of the people I take in. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve taught a big, stubborn biker how to cook meals for himself. And there are plenty of young ladies who don’t know their way around a broom. It’s no way to live in this world, and I like to think everyone who turns around and walks out that door is a better person after they’ve had a little tough love from me. I hope you’re not the kind who’s too stubborn or who likes to sleep in late.”

  Vera blinked, her confidence faltering slightly. “I, um, I don’t know.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t, sweetie.” Lorenna patted her hand once again. “But maybe that’s for the best. We’ll figure you out. You can have the room at the end of the hall.”

  Rascal fetched Vera’s suitcase from the back of her motorcycle and took it down the hall, setting it just outside the door Lorenna indicated. He turned to her with steel in his eyes. “This is a good place for you, Vera.”

  “How do you know that?” she challenged. It was impossible to know what might be good for her when neither one of them knew what they were dealing with.

  But Rascal smiled. “Because it’s good for anybody. Lorenna can be tough, but she’s very real. She believes in people learning to be independent and functional. If you get her started, she can go on and on about how the government allows those who have fallen into trouble to just lounge around in their own filth instead of getting back on their feet again. Not that you’re doing that,” he amended quickly. “I’m just saying she’s good at what she does.”

  Vera looked over her shoulder, worried that Lorenna would come up on them and hear them talking about her. But she had said she would go back out to the garden while Vera got settled in, and that she would show Vera around when she was finished weeding her tomatoes. “Why does she do this, anyway? What does she gain from having strangers come in her house like this?” It seemed like a strange notion, and Vera was feeling self-conscious at taking such a huge handout.

  Rascal shrugged. “It makes her happy. Like I said, one of her sons passed away a while back. She’s never come right out and said it, but I think it helps her fill the hole he left. Hell, for all I know she just does it to get free labor. But it doesn’t really matter why she does it. I know you’ll be safe here.” He clamped his lips shut suddenly, as though he was avoiding saying anything more.

  “Thank you.” Vera looked away from him, suddenly uncomfortable once again at their close proximity in the hallway. Her swiveling attitude didn’t make any sense. How could she be so confident and excited to be with him in bed—or in the shower, as the case may be—and yet practically embarrassed just to be standing near him now? Still, at least she knew where she would be for a while.

  “You’re welcome, but you’ll have to thank Lorenna. All I did was bring you here.”

  It was much more than that, and Vera felt that they both knew it. But she wasn’t going to argue with him, not now.

  “Well, I’d better get going.”

  Vera followed Rascal out of the house. He waved to Lorenna in her garden and took one last, long look at Vera before getting on his bike. His jaw was hard, and he didn’t once look back or hesitate as he pulled out onto the highway and headed back into town.

  “He’s a good man,” came Lorenna’s gentle voice from behind her.

  Vera had been standing there in the driveway, watching the biker fade into the distance, and she hadn’t even heard the older woman approach. “Yes. I mean, he seems to be.”

  “I wanted to wait until he was gone before you and I really started talking. I can tell that you don’t want him to know everything about you.” She said this confidently, as though she had looked right into Vera’s mind and understood the truth.

  Unable to really deny this, Vera nodded. “Yes, but there isn’t much that I know myself.”

  The older woman gestured at the desert around them, at the scrubby wild plants that grew just beyond the fence and the hazy mountains in the distance. “There are plenty of people who do remember their own histories and still don’t know what they want or where to go. But give yourself some time. There are gorgeous walking trails all over the place here. You can see the house from miles away, so you don’t have to worry about getting lost. Well, no more lost than you already are,” she said with a knowing smile.

  “I want to thank you for letting me stay here. I didn’t really know what else I was going to do.” Once again, her thoughts flicked
to that short time in the canal. She wondered if she would ever see Rascal again. He hadn’t said that he would come back to visit her or see how she was doing, and she wasn’t going to demand it of him

  “Don’t thank me just yet. As I said, there’s plenty of hard work to be done. We’ll start inside, and I’ll show you what I expect of you.” Lorenna went into the house, and Vera followed. She turned right past the kitchen and down the hallway to Vera’s new bedroom. “I know this isn’t a large space, but I still expect you to treat it with respect. I want the bed made every morning and the sheets changed weekly. There’s a hamper over here in the closet, so I don’t expect any dirty laundry on the floor. You’re welcome to enjoy the décor, the books, and the television, but remember that they are mine.”

  Next, Lorenna headed into the kitchen. “Most of the time, I expect anyone who stays with me to be responsible for their own breakfast and lunch. I usually just grab a quick bowl of cereal or oatmeal, so don’t roll out of bed and expect me to fry up eggs and bacon. Dinners are a joint effort, and we eat together at the table. Whatever you use in here, I expect you to clean. And don’t waste food; that’s a big pet peeve of mine.”

  “I can handle that.” Lorenna’s attitude was demanding, but the demands themselves seemed reasonable. Vera felt a small amount of tension leave her shoulders.

  “My motto in life is that there is always something to be done. Yes, there’s time for relaxation, but not if the garden needs weeding or watering, and not if there are piles of dirt on the floors. There’s a daily chore chart over here. I know it sounds like something out of a grade school classroom, but as I’ve said before, I’ve met plenty of adults who don’t know how to behave like adults. I find it best to have things written out in stone, so there aren’t any conflicts.” Lorenna turned to Vera, her chin in the air. “Any questions?”

  “No, ma’am.” Vera couldn’t explain the extraordinary amount of comfort she felt in having things all laid out and scheduled for her like this. She had an idea that most people wouldn’t like it, and Lorenna certainly looked as though she didn’t expect her to like it, but she did. “I think it’s all very clear.”

  “Good.” A small smile barely pulled at the corner of Lorenna’s mouth. “I’ll let you settle in for today, and you don’t need to worry about any chores. Put your clothes in the closet and the dresser, lay out your things, make the room your own. If there’s anything you need, I might have it, or we can always run into town and pick something up at the store. You don’t have to start on any of your duties until tomorrow. I’ll be out in the garden if you need me.” She left Vera standing alone in the middle of the house.

  With no better options, Vera went down to the bedroom and did as her new caretaker asked. She hung up her clothes in the closet, finding that she had very few belongings compared to the space afforded for them even in the small room. The last item she pulled out was the long brown dress. Her fingers seemed reluctant to even touch the material, but her mind once again refused to let her know just what was so bad about it. Shaking off the odd sensation the dress induced, she put the garment on a hanger and pushed it toward the back of the closet.

  Vera turned around and took in the room, wanting to absorb everything about it. Lacking knowledge of herself made her hungry for something new, and she very much wanted this arrangement to work out. She studied the bed, a narrow affair pushed up against one wall with a tattered quilt draped squarely over it. Inspecting the fine stitching, Vera somehow knew that it had been quilted by hand. She wondered what she had done in her past that gave her that knowledge.

  The bookshelf near the door groaned with volumes, many of them older, tattered editions of classic literature. There were also several nature guides and quite a few self-help books. Vera ran her fingers down the spines as she read them, thinking that perhaps she had enjoyed reading at some point in her life.

  Vera stood and looked at the painting that hung on the walls. With the textured blobs of paint on the canvas, they appeared to be originals. She couldn’t quite decipher the signature in the corners, but she had to admire the large field of tulips in one frame and a glorious depiction of mountains in another. She made a mental note to ask Lorenna about them later.

  Lorenna had told her to spend some time by herself, but Vera found that she wasn’t interested in doing that. Her hands craved something to do, and the silence and loneliness of the house seemed heavy on her shoulders. She went out the back door to find the woman in the garden.

  “Everything all right?” Lorenna asked without looking up. She had a large bucket of weeds next to her that she had already pulled, and she was aggressively going after the rest.

  “Yes,” Vera said, “but I wanted to see if you could use some help.”

  Lorenna looked up, squinting in the bright sunlight. “Bored already?”

  Vera shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s that. I just want to be useful.”

  “All right. Take this bucket to the compost pile. It’s over there in the corner of the yard.” She pointed with a gloved hand.

  Vera obeyed, easily finding the pile of dead weeds and vegetable scraps. She dumped the bucket obediently and brought it back to Lorenna. “Is there a shovel around?”

  The older woman stopped her work and turned to look at Vera once again. “Well, of course. It’s a garden, after all. Why?”

  “The compost pile needs to be turned over. It’ll help everything break down faster, and the worms can get to those rotten veggies without them just rotting in the sun.”

  “I see.” Lorenna stood up and stepped over the fence around the vegetables, walking toward a shed on the back corner of the property. “All the tools I have are in here. You’re welcome to anything you need.”

  Vera took a shovel and did the work she had suggested, but she felt Lorenna’s hard gaze on her back as she did so. Had she overstepped her bounds by taking the initiative with the compost pile? And where had that information come from? She couldn’t say.

  When fresh, dark earth occupied the corner of the yard, Vera took the shovel back to the shed. She rejoined Lorenna and found her picking insects off several of the pepper plants. “You should put tarragon and chives throughout the garden to keep the bugs away.”

  Lorenna stood once more, took off her gloves and slapped them against her thigh. “I’m guessing this means you have some sort of gardening experience.”

  Vera shrugged, feeling lost. “Maybe. I’m not sure.”

  “Well, I’m sure. I can tell you that I’ve hosted quite a few young men and women here over the years, and not a single one of them has tried to come out here and tell me what to do.”

  Despite the heat of the day, a chill of horror prickled under Vera’s skin. Had she already ruined what she had here with Lorenna? Where else would she go? Some homeless shelter? Out on the streets? “I’m so sorry. I never meant it like that. It was just automatic.”

  “No, no. That’s all right. I’m not mad. You just took me by surprise.” She put her hands on her hips and looked down at the ground. “It makes a lot of sense, and I think I’ve heard something along those lines before. But I grew up growing each different plant in its own individual space, and I guess I’ve just been too stubborn to change that. It’s too late to do anything about it this season; the plants are all rooted in. But I’ll keep it in mind for next year. Any other suggestions?”

  Vera wasn’t sure if the question was genuine or if it was a dare, but she answered it anyway. “If you alternate your green beans with radishes, you’ll keep the soil churned up and renewed for the green beans every time you harvest the radishes. It’s also keeps the beans from getting too crowded.”

  Surprisingly, Lorenna smiled. “It sounds to me like you’re already figuring out a little bit about yourself. Apparently, you must have spent plenty of time gardening. Do you remember if you liked it or not?”

  Vera hesitated, unsure of how to answer. She hadn’t remembered how she liked her coffee or even if she liked it at
all, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about reading. Now, she was facing the same conflict when it came to gardening. “I don’t know, but I’m happy to find out.”

  “That’s an answer I can work with. Why don’t you grab one of those extra knee cushions in the shed and join me? You can tell me everything you know.”

  * * *

  By the time Vera fell into bed that night, her body and her mind were exhausted to the point of numbness. It felt amazing. They had worked in the garden until sundown, discussing the various types of plants Lorenna had growing and what they might do to increase the harvest. There was still dinner to be made, and Lorenna expected help. Vera had proved to be handy in the kitchen as well, cleaning up by instinct as she went and cooking the chicken to perfection.

  There was something wonderful about the hard work. Lorenna assured her that she was well on her way to understanding herself, and the way she felt at the moment made Vera think maybe she was right. She undressed and slipped between the covers, sparing a few moments to think about Rascal and hoping he knew just how grateful she was for everything he had done for her. She wished he was there with her now. It would have been comical to see him curl his big form up in the small bed, but she would have gladly traded the nice sheets and the comfortable quilt to have him pull her body in close to his and wrap his arms around her. With those thoughts, she slipped quickly into a deep sleep.

 

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