Blow Out (Steel Veins Book 1)

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Blow Out (Steel Veins Book 1) Page 9

by Jackson Kane


  With him, at any moment there could be an explosion followed by writhing bodies on the floor. Either ours—Remy and mine—or Remy's enemies.

  Gloria had brought me to a window where I watched the events with the police unfold. She had this forlorn look about her the whole time, like she knew how this was going to end before it ever even started.

  I saw Remy and that monster—Top—talking with the police. I couldn’t hear anything, of course, but I didn’t need to. The way the officers were standing with their hands ready on their guns spoke volumes.

  The worst part was seeing just how easily the police were dealt with. It was so utterly unreal. At first, I wanted to run out there and jump in the back of a cruiser, but when the fat guy in the cowboy hat showed up and waved off the other cops, I realized that the rules I had always been taught didn’t apply in this place.

  My last security blanket was torn away.

  Once they were gone, Gloria took my hand and moved me back into the room we were working on.

  With everything that had been happening, I half expected Gloria to betray me somehow as well. I didn’t want to be that person. Always on edge. Skeptical of everyone.

  What a terrible way to live….

  There was no hidden knife waiting to attack me when we returned to that room, but a part of me wondered how I might take her down if there was one. I shook that cancerous thought from my mind. I wasn’t like them.

  I was more than a rabid dog in a leather vest.

  I took Gloria’s hand and thanked her sincerely. I wasn’t sure for what exactly, but I guessed it was just for being a decent person.

  She blushed a little, smiled, and waved the whole notion away. Before long, she had the radio on and was dancing through the room again.

  I loved the way she could just accept a situation for what it was and not let it darken her world. I had so much to learn from her—much more than just that perfect blanket fold.

  After a few more rooms, Gloria had me try some on my own. She’d pop in every once in a while to make sure I hadn’t set anything on fire. She’d inspect everything, make a few changes, then leave with an exaggerated thumbs-up. The woman was adorable.

  Unfortunately, the time without Gloria’s wonderful distraction gave me more time alone with my thoughts than I would’ve liked.

  Why was I still cleaning?

  Why not? Escaping was off the table, and I had no idea where I stood with Remy. He never came back after that moment in the room together. Did I want him to come back?

  Part of me wondered if he was my only hope of getting out of here, and another part worried that he was just playing with me like everyone else was.

  I had no idea what, if anything, I could do next, so I just kept cleaning until there were no more rooms left.

  Later, when I saw Muse, I couldn’t think of her by her given name, not anymore. I thought I could trust her, and now she was going to give me back to Top and let him know how I tried to escape.

  There was nothing merciful about that woman.

  Her perfectly groomed appearance was slightly off. It wasn’t so much in her clothes, hair, or makeup as it was more in her mood and body language. She had a subtle air of being frazzled. It was off-putting because that wasn’t a state of being I’d ever expected to see her in.

  Something or someone must have seriously rattled her.

  When she noticed me, Muse’s eyes raked over my every feature in relentless detail as if she was searching for something. Finally, she offered me a strained smile and went about her business.

  The whole experience was uncomfortable and made me feel even more uneasy around her.

  With dusk came more bikers. The low grumble of the engines was such an unmistakable sound, one I could now only associate with a sense of rising dread. I saw them from a hallway window approaching in a two-by-two line formation. The long, black, mechanical snakes slithered into the parking lot, more than double what was already here.

  I wondered if it had anything to do with Bren being killed at my aunt and uncle’s station. What had happened to them sent pangs of guilt and remorse spiraling through me, but I forced it all away.

  I needed to be sharp if I was going to survive tonight.

  Occasionally, unintelligible words ricocheted up the halls over the din of rock music coming from the bar. Gloria was running through the linens washing procedure with me. I now recognized the room from last night, as the closet I slept in was directly across the hall.

  She had to be getting off shift soon. Could I escape with her? I agonized to remember the Spanish word for escape, but I was drawing a blank.

  The whirring noise and vibration of the two double washers and dryers in the tiny room was enough to block out most of the noise from the bar. The small, cream-colored room had a few bins, the washers and dryers, a small slop sink, and a fold-down working table. Gloria had to wedge the door open with the cart because there really wasn’t enough room for two people to work. She had me sorting and loading the various articles while she folded and stacked sheets.

  I tried to finish every meager task she gave me as quickly as possible. This room was far closer to that shitty bar than I felt comfortable with though. I think Gloria understood my anxiety because even she sped up her diligent yet leisurely pace.

  “—enough with that fucking dog joke already. It wasn’t funny the first time!” Jubilation spilled out into the hall as that dreaded bar door swung open. Three coarse voices approached our way.

  Gloria and I halted all work and awkwardly shuffled around as quietly as possible.

  “Fuck you, Rio. I’m jus’ tryin’ to lighten the mood. I fuckin’ hate these things.”

  “I’ll remember that when you get popped, shithead,” a nasally voice scolded the other two.

  “Nah, I know what he’s sayin’, Rio. I didn’t really know the kid either. I think I met him, like, twice? Bren was barely even a member. Who gives a shit?”

  We worked furiously to move all the linens and closed the folding table. I had stacked the bins, but the table was stuck and there wasn’t enough room to pull the cart in and shut the door. Fortunately, it sounded like the men stopped; then there was some scuffling like they were shoving each other.

  “Get offa me, man!”

  “Both of you dipshits listen good. I know you’re still high off these fresh patches, so you get this through your heads right now. This club is everything. We’re family. I don’t give a fuck if you didn’t know or even like your brother, but when he gets laid down, you show some fucking respect for your fucking family! Next year, when I take over for Deadeye, I’d better see you both front and center at every single one of these,” the one they called Rio reprimanded, then there was the unmistakable sound of a switchblade extending.

  The metal sliding across metal sound made me cringe. All my muscles tightened as I waited for an inevitable scream.

  “Or, I swear to God, I’ll fucking cut your balls off,” Rio finished.

  “Shit, man! Fuck! Okay! I’m sorry! Put that shit away. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it!”

  Come on, come on. Almost there….

  *Click!

  The table swung down.

  Yes!

  Gloria pulled the cart in, and the door began to close itself. Once shut, it’d self-lock and we would wait it out with relative safety. The wide arc came to a close, but it didn’t shut all the way.

  I tore through Gloria’s expertly folded laundry to see what was blocking it, but it was nothing.

  Why was the door still open?

  “What do we got here?” a voice asked.

  No! How? I leaned back to get a better look at the floor. A thick leather boot was firmly placed between the door and the frame. Fingers folded around the edge, followed by the side of a scruffy, sweaty face.

  “Peek-a-boo....” The door opened wide, revealing the three of them eagerly gawking inside the closet like they were pirates prying open a treasure chest. The name patches on the front of t
heir vests read Skinpipe, Rio, and Lug Nut. I couldn’t tell if they were Steel Veins or a different gang. It probably wouldn’t matter. With the notable exception of Remy, all these bikers were the same. At least to me.

  Skinpipe leaned in and viewed us both. “Well shit, that works out. You girls wanna party?”

  We said nothing.

  “Yo, Skin, you’re not talkin’ ’bout the Spanish bitch, too, right?” Lug Nut’s rubbery face contorted as if he was slapped with an insult.

  “Don’t hate. I like my fish tacos with a little meat on ’em.” Skinpipe reached out to grab Gloria’s waist. She shrank back, but the room was just too small for her to evade him.

  “Don’t you dare touch her!” I kicked the cart at the biker as hard as I could.

  The corner caught him in the balls, and he staggered backward, cursing.

  I stepped forward to block the other two from getting at her.

  This was happening. I just couldn’t escape it. If it wasn’t Top, it was going to be one of these other assholes who dragged me away. Fine, I felt a fiery resolve boil in my stomach. Take me, but you’re not taking her.

  Gloria was the only one who’d been nice to me since… hell, since before I got to Oklahoma. It felt good to protect someone worthwhile, even if the consequences were horrible.

  “I like this one!” Rio declared. He and Lug Nut erupted into laughter when Skinpipe had to let go and grab his nuts. “Bitch is feisty. How’re them nuts, Skin?”

  “Fuck you!” Skinpipe groaned, wiping away the tears from his eyes.

  “These girls definitely want to party!” Rio laughed and started in for us again.

  I pulled the paring knife from my waistband.

  Rio’s smile fell and the laughter stopped.

  Right away, I felt like I made a bad decision.

  “Heh, feisty girl wants to play....” The amusement drained from Rio’s face. He stepped back a few feet and whipped out the switchblade I’d heard earlier.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Star

  Had it just been me there alone in that closet, I don’t know, maybe I would’ve held on to the knife to see what happened. I didn’t have much to lose at this point. But with Gloria there...

  I couldn’t risk it. There were three of them, and we were hopelessly outnumbered. They might kill her if I became too much of a nuisance, so I dropped the knife.

  “Just take me, but leave her alone,” I offered with resignation.

  Rio contemplated it for a moment. If his eyes could have jumped out of his head, I would’ve felt them roll up my legs and tits. “Nah, take them both,” he decided then slapped a hand on Lug Nut’s shoulder. Rio jerked the cart I kept defensively between us sidelong down the hall and grabbed me while Lug Nut went for Gloria.

  “Wait! You can’t take her! It’s against the house rules. You can take Muse’s working girls, but not her employees,” I cried loudly. It was a total bluff, but I hadn’t seen any of the junkies and whores from last night with the cleaning crew today. There were actual maids like Gloria, and then there were working girls who only dressed like maids. They had to be separate jobs! Muse was too smart of a businesswoman to let them mix like that.

  “The fuck are you talkin’ about, bitch?” Skinpipe grunted, rubbing the soreness from his groin.

  “I don’t work here yet. I was just helping Gloria out.” There was no way both of us were getting off the hook. Gloria obviously didn’t know exactly what was being said, but the worried look she wore told me she was getting the gist of it. “If you fuck things up for Muse, then you fuck things up for Top! Do you really want that kind of trouble?” I finished, praying the bluff worked.

  Rio rolled his head left and right while mulling it over.

  Gloria flashed me a concerned glance then, with a motherly firmness, she latched on to my arm as if to keep the whole world from pulling me away. She didn’t like where this was headed.

  “Leave the Spanish bitch. Skin, once your balls pop back out, go talk to Muse. See if this cunt is lying.” Rio reluctantly decided to err on the side of caution.

  Thank you.

  I pried Gloria’s hand away and let myself be dragged off without a fight.

  Gloria watched me go with a great sadness etched on her features. She replaced it with sternness and ran off in the opposite direction, elbowing Skinpipe painfully as she passed. Gloria, bless her heart, was probably running to Muse for all the good that was bound to do.

  Remy’s words floated through my head. “Simple economics.” I’m the product, they're the customers, and “The customer always gets what he wants.”

  Passing through that barroom door, I was dragged into the maw of a giant beast where I was swallowed whole. With the sheer volume of people in the bar, it was noticeably hotter, and the stale air reeked of a long day’s ride in both sweat and dust. Rio threw me into a booth and told me if I moved, he’d kill me.

  I was back in hell. Where could I possibly go now? Apparently, I was one booth over from where Top took me last night. It figured. I just sat there and waited for the inevitable.

  The only thing that kept my spirits up was imagining Gloria storming into Muse’s office and demanding that I be released or she was quitting. Then the fantasy part kicked in. Muse, terrified of losing her best worker, buckled immediately then ran down here in those black stilettos and forced everyone to let me go. Why stop at Muse? Why not Superman crashing through the ceiling and spiriting me off to safety?

  It was about as probable.

  My heart jumped a beat when I saw Remy across the room. He was talking to a grizzled, bearded, bald man with a patch over one eye—the quintessential old guard biker—and the way everyone was shaking his hand and hanging on his words, I could tell he was a big deal in their community. I didn’t care about him though. My eyes followed only Remy.

  I didn’t know what Remy’s status in the club was, but almost everyone looked older than him. Remy appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He spoke and maneuvered with such surety that he stood out among the rabble almost to the degree of Top and Old One-Eye.

  I’d always been perceptive. It was easy for me to pick out the decision makers in a crowd, and Remy was certainly one of those men.

  I didn’t know if he felt my gaze on him, but he casually scanned the room and found me. When he did, that roughly handsome face sank a bit. Remy let his gaze drift to the ceiling in subdued exasperation. I was sure he was asking himself the question: “How many times will I have to pull this silly girl out of the fire?”

  Part of me expected him to stay over there, deciding he couldn’t help me anymore. I was a lost cause. Maybe he should give up on me. The depression hit hard in that moment.

  Was I really worth it? I couldn’t fathom why he had risked so much for me already. Our roles being reversed, I probably would have cut my losses with me too.

  Could you abandon him if your roles were reversed?

  No, I didn’t think I could….

  Remy stood there so long that I thought he actually had finally wised up and decided to ignore me. Then he looked back at me with these half-set eyes. The look was that of willful resignation, like even he could barely believe what he was going to do next.

  Remy parted the crowd as walked toward me.

  I was never happier to be wrong in my entire life. Jesus, I could’ve cried. Locking eyes with him pulled a smile from the depths of my soul that I didn’t know existed. I had to cover my face.

  “Rio, the fuck are you thinking?” Remy said, turning away from me at the last moment.

  “Whoa! Easy there, Poe,” Rio replied.

  Poe? Like the author, Edgar Allan Poe? I guess Remy’s penchant for literature was widely known.

  “Did you not see the uniform?” Remy pointed at me. “Top sent you to Muse to get the girls, not the staff.”

  “I’m the national president’s fucking vice! I get who the fuck I want.” Rio, who looked young—maybe early twenties—rose up off the bar
and got into Remy’s face.

  “Remember whose house you’re in, boy.” Remy didn’t give him an inch. If anything, he pushed in even closer. “Deadeye has rules in place for a reason. I don’t mind telling him why his kid is missing a few teeth.”

  The radius of men taking notice of the argument grew exponentially, and it looked like they were siding with Remy.

  Rio probably could’ve argued the fact that I said I didn’t work there yet, but he picked up the vibe from his peers and just sat back down. “S’fine. You’re right. My bad.” Rio put his hands up and frowned in reluctant agreement.

  “Glasses, get the fuck back to work before Muse beats your ass.” Remy shot me a quick glance that told me to get as far away as possible, then sat down next to Rio and changed the subject entirely. “What are you drinking? It’s on me.”

  “Whiskey and coke,” Rio said, calming down. Remy gave him an amiable way out that didn’t cause him to lose too much face.

  I shot up and headed for the door. God, I hoped Remy would find a way to me tonight. There were a thousand ways I wanted to thank him. None of them involved me wearing this outfit.

  Remy ordered two Jack and Cokes and purposefully kept his vision stapled elsewhere until I was gone.

  That creep, Rio, drank in every step I took.

  “Hey, Glasses,” Rio called to me just as I reached the door.

  I stopped and acknowledged him. I had to, no matter how much it felt like someone poured a cold bucket of slime down my back. I didn’t respond, but I turned to at least face him.

  “Apologize to Muse for me.”

  Almost as if on cue, the door to the hall was pushed open. Muse, followed by ten working girls, filed in. After the initial cheers died down, Muse regarded me with a sly wink. That fluster from earlier was completely gone. “Oooh, my ears are burnin’! Hello, Rio,” Muse purred, sailing him a kiss on the air.

 

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