by Bourne, Lena
No sense in not showing you care about someone, was my uncle’s take on things like this and family in general. It’s my take on it too, especially since he raised me as his own son. But Griff here clearly has another take on it. To each his own, I guess.
“What I’m getting at is,” he says and pauses to take another swallow of coffee. “I need a reliable guy like you to look after my boys. They’re still in the phase where they’re trying to prove themselves. Sometimes they go too far. I’ve got enemies who’d like nothing better than to get to me through them, as you saw. I hate to admit it, but left on their own they’d make that easy to do. So the short of it is, they need to be kept out of trouble for the time being. Are you interested in the job?”
His offer is the kind of stroke of twisted luck my life’s been full of. This offer erases my fuck up with Stormi last night and gets me miles closer to my goal of finding the snitch among the Sinners. But I know there’ll be a price to pay for it. And that price will be just as twisted as it always is.
I drink the rest of my coffee, keeping my face and my eyes hard, like I’m thinking about it.
“What’s in it for me?” I finally ask. Maybe it’s too forward, but I figure it’s what a guy in my position would ask.
“I’ll be going after the Devils. And sooner would suit me better,” I elaborate.
The smile that spreads across his face is very telling in its sneakiness. “You’ve made that very clear already. You’ll get your chance, I can promise you that much right now.”
There’s nothing fake in the way my eyes go wide and my heart starts hammering inside my chest. The only fake thing is the wide smile I force onto my face.
“You’re gonna help me end the Devils? You’ll go to war with them?”
He shakes his head. “First you prove yourself, then we talk. So how about it?”
I pause, appear to think about his offer. What I’m really thinking is whether I just found my snitch? Even if he’s not snitching to the cops, Griff seems to be a threat to us. Or is he just saying this to me so I’ll agree to babysit his sons?
“Is it a paying job? And does room and board come with the package?” I finally ask, hoping he won’t take it as an insult.
He laughs harshly. “You can stay at the clubhouse, and I’ll pay you for your time. But I’d rather Horse and Piston didn’t know what your real task is. So what’s it gonna be?”
“I’m in,” I say and extend my hand so we can shake on it, which we do.
“Glad that’s settled,” he says as he stands up and slaps me on the back. “I want to see all three of you in my office, as soon as Horse and Piston appear. But I figure you got at least until noon before that happens.”
He laughs again and I let a grin creep onto my face as well. Then he leaves me in the dark deserted bar.
I did it, I’m in, and I’m pretty sure I already know as much as I need to.
I want to give Cross the good news as soon as possible, but he expressly told me to give it a few days, a week even, before trying to contact him so as not to arouse suspicion.
I wonder if I still need to give up Stormi now that I’m in Griff’s good graces. I’d love to find out if her pussy is as good as her mouth. I bet it is.
* * *
Stormi
The fuzzy warmth of waking up flees as soon as I realize Ace is gone and that the sun is already high in the sky. It’s almost noon, judging by the harshness and heat of the light hitting me through the small, grimy window of my bedroom.
I leap up, and try not to think, let alone worry or regret Ace’s absence, as I pull on my shorts, followed by a pair of sneakers, and a clean t-shirt. I’ll come back to take a shower as soon as I judge the extent of the damage my over-sleeping and Ace’s head-butting with Horse last night caused.
The bar is mostly empty and one glance around shows me Horse isn’t here. Good. Ace isn’t here either. I didn’t realize just how much I hoped I’d find him here until I walked in and didn’t. The shock of realizing it is unsettling. Am I about to find out he left this morning as suddenly as he appeared? Why do I care so much? He’s nothing to me.
The floor is swept and the tables are cleared. The main door is wide open and the fresh air coming in has put a dent in the foul, cigarette smoke and general dirtiness-infested smell in here, but not a big one. Brenda is at the counter, leafing through a magazine.
“Nice of you to join me,” she says without lifting her eyes from the magazine as I join her. She’s talking softly, probably so the three guys sitting at the other end of the bar won’t overhear, and it makes it hard to know just how pissed she is at me over not being here to help her clean up for the second day in a row. Probably very.
“You could’ve woken me, you know that,” I tell her in a whisper, as I walk behind her and pour myself a glass of water.
“On any other day, I probably would’ve,” she muses. “It’s damn hard work cleaning this place by myself.”
“What’s so special about today?” I ask.
“Your antics with that new guy yesterday,” she says. “Horse was in the foulest mood ever after you two left. I’m afraid you’ll pay for it today, so I didn’t want to wake you while he was still here. That guy’s hot though. Was he at least any good?”
She finally does look at me as she says it, and the way she asked it sounded almost like she used to sound. Even her eyes sparkle the way they used to before we became slaves to the Sinners.
I grin and busy myself with making a fresh batch of coffee. “Unfortunately, that’s still to be determined. He fell asleep too soon. But it looks promising. So, he’s sticking around?”
I tried to add the question as an afterthought, but the hope that welled up still crept into my voice. And my heart. Stingingly.
“I don’t think you should piss off Horse in any way,” Brenda says in a very pointed whisper. “He’s capable of killing you, if you piss him off too much.”
Her words are not the ones I expected. I expected more of our friendly, naughty banter of old to continue. Now, I feel like I’ve been drenched in cold water and my heart’s racing so hard it hurts.
“That’s why I called you back in last night, after you let him take the trash out for you,” she goes on. “Horse kept glaring at the back door for you to return. He thinks you should be his, and it pisses him off no end that you’d rather fuck everyone else but him. Just pretend. It’ll make your life here so much easier, Stormi.”
“Horse hates me,” I mutter. “He just wants to make my life a living hell.”
“Only because you keep pushing him away,” she says in a voice that suggests I’m dumb.
All I thought I knew about Horse and my place here is shifting in my brain, rearranging, fitting in with this idea she’s voicing. Can it be so simple? Is all I gotta do be nice to Horse? But no, the guy hates me and I hate him worse. The mere thought of pretending to like him is making me nauseous.
The coffee’s ready and I don’t respond to her until I’m holding a mug of it in my suddenly very cold and shaking hands. The smell is delicious and pleasant the way nothing else in my life is right now. I guess this is what they mean when they say you gotta appreciate the little things. But the little things in this ocean of shit I’m in mean nothing, not a damn thing, a million little things will never be enough to keep my head above the surface.
She clicks her tongue and shakes her head exasperatedly. “Grow up, Stormi. Stop waiting for Prince Charming, and make the best of what you got. Because you’re no princess.”
I was just taking another sip of my coffee and her harsh comment made most of it go down the wrong way.
“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” I ask breathlessly after I finally stop coughing.
“I think you’re still hoping one of the guys will fall in love with you and keep you safe from Horse, maybe even take you away from here,” she says. “And I think you think you met that man last night. You’re still living half in some fairytale where men are co
ncerned. I don’t know why, because you’re old enough to know better.”
My heart’s hammering in anger, not fear, but the sensation is just as unpleasantly painful. “I’m thinking no such thing about that guy. I never needed a man to help me out, and I never expected one to do it. Where do you get off saying all this?”
“I don’t blame you for thinking it,” she says, a bit more complacently. “That guy just swooped in last night like some knight in shining armor to save you from hard work and the mean monster making you do it. And then he whisked you away so you could fall asleep in his arms. From the moment he walked in here last night, he had eyes only for you. What girl wouldn’t fall for that?”
“Bullshit,” I snap. “Sure, it was nice to have some help with the trash and avoiding getting backhanded across the face. Or whoring for those yuppies for that matter. But I’m not an idiot. I know it doesn’t mean anything.”
Do I? Isn’t this exactly what I was thinking last night, before I fell asleep in his arms that I had to place around myself, but still? Didn’t I wake up thinking it?
Yes. Yes to all that. But hell no at the same time. And I realized I can’t and won’t pretend I can count on Ace for anything before I even walked in here this morning. Where does she get off?
“Why the fuck are you saying all this to me, Brenda?” I ask scathingly. “Are you just pissed off because you had to sweep up this place alone? Or are you jealous that new guy liked me more than you. That’d be so like you.”
The guys at the end of the bar glare at me like I interrupted them with my shrill voice. Brenda smiles at them.
“Keep your voice down,” she tells me.
“You could’ve woken me up,” I snap at her in a voice that’s still too loud. “And now, I’m gonna go see Griff and get the money Horse is refusing to give me. And when I get back, by all means, tell me more about how I think I need a guy to fight my battles. You’re just jealous and you’re being a bitch because of it.”
I moved to the door that leads to Griff’s office, while I was speaking, and she winces as I yank it open, whispering something urgently, but I don’t want to listen to her mean, dumb advice anymore.
I reach Griff’s office just as the door opens slightly and Horse’s shrill voice cuts through me. He’s not talking to me, hasn’t seen me yet, and I almost turn around and flee back into the bar. But I won’t do that. I need that money. Horse hasn’t paid me in weeks.
I’m frozen mid-step as Horse comes out into the hall, despite the very warm look Ace, who’s just behind him, flashes me.
“What are you doing back here?” Horse barks at me, a very sharp edge in his voice, even sharper than usual. “Don’t you got shit to do?”
“Yes, I do,” I stammer, answering his question automatically. But I have a reason to be here, a very good one, a very necessary one.
“Go do it then,” he spits as he shoulders past me, knocking me into the wall. Ace is in the process of closing the door. He’s not meeting my eyes, he’s looking past me at Horse, and I have no idea what he’s thinking. His face betrays nothing. Piston is by his side, looking confused like he always does.
Grow some balls, Stormi.
“I need my pay for this week and last,” I say, hating how my voice shakes, but at least I got the words out.
Horse halts and looks back at me. He’s standing so close I can feel his hot breath on top of my shoulder. It makes me shiver and not in a good way.
“You get the money when you earn it, as you very well know.” he says bitingly. “And you haven’t earned it lately.”
Griff is standing in the open door of his office now, watching the exchange, but not saying anything. Ace and Piston are completely silent too, and Horse is breathing harder and harder, his face growing redder and redder.
“I do the work. I obey, and I deserve to be paid,” I say. “That was the arrangement.”
The scowl on Griff’s face grows darker as I glance at him. I’ll get no help from him, I know it, and I hate the moment of hope that made me look at him. I wish Ace would look at me, but he’s still staring at Horse.
“Your blowjobs suck, how’s that for a reason not to get paid?” Horse says, a very sharp mocking edge in his voice. “You just don’t put any effort into them. Until you do, no pay.”
He looks very satisfied with himself, even throws a triumphant glance at the other guys. The memory of giving Horse blowjobs made my stomach clench, and I’m having trouble controlling the nausea. Piston and Griff are grinning at Horse now, but Ace’s face is still completely tight and unreadable. Until it suddenly changes completely. A wide smile spreads across his lips and across his whole face really.
“What are you talking about, Horse?” he says merrily. “She gives excellent blow jobs, A plus all the way. Whatever you’re paying her isn’t enough.”
I can literally feel Horse anger grow tighter and more menacing, but his old man chuckles.
“Give the girl her money, Horse,” Griff tells him. “A deal’s a deal.”
Horse is crimson in the face as he pulls out a wad of cash from his pocket and peels off a couple of hundred dollar bills. He tosses them at me and I fail to catch them, but I don’t bend over to pick them up. I won’t give him the satisfaction of looking down on me, while I do it. I’m fully expecting Horse to punch me in the face for staring at him so defiantly and making him look like a fool. Any second now my vision’s gonna explode into a million sparks and then I’ll be on the floor hurting.
“Go do your job, Horse,” Griff says, putting extra emphasis on the word your.
Horse breaks eye contact with me and stalks away. On a scale of one to ten, Horse’s anger at me is at about twenty right now. I’m already dreading the moment when I’m alone with him again, because he will get back at me for this humiliation. But at least I got the money. No. At least I stood up for myself. It’s been so long since I did that. I’ve forgotten I could feel this alive.
Griff goes back into his office, while Piston and Ace follow Horse. I try to catch Ace’s eyes so I can smile at him, maybe even thank him, but he doesn’t even look at me, as he walks by, and his face is a frozen, tight mask once again, no trace of the merry smile left anywhere on it.
What the hell’s that all about?
Why is he sticking his neck out for me and then pretending I don’t exist?
Why does it bother me so much?
I get no answers, just more questions.
Once they’re all gone I finally pick up the money. I’ll slip away and send it to my sister later today. That’s really the only thing I gotta worry about.
6
Ace
I tried to stay quiet. I tried to stay out of whatever the fuck is going on between Stormi and Horse. It’s none of my business. Not my place to teach him how to treat women.
But I couldn’t.
Now it’s like a goddamn furnace of anger is walking in front of me, and it’s blazing hot by the time we reach our bikes in the courtyard.
I might as well be invisible for all the attention Horse is giving me, but Piston keeps glancing from me to him in a scared kinda way. That peevish expression on his face says it all.
I went too far.
I already went too far last night, but this morning was a drop over the top.
That’s probably what they’re gonna write on my tombstone. He tried, but it was never enough. Story of my fucking life!
I follow Horse and Piston out of the lot, forcing everything else but this moment, this ride, out of my thoughts. There are plenty of potholes on this gravel road that leads to the clubhouse to worry about and focus on.
Griff might’ve given me a job, but if Horse refuses to ride with me, then I’m as good as out on my ass. I had all morning to ponder that, while I sat drinking coffee alone and the logic is sound. I still gotta stay on the son’s good side to keep my place here.
What’s Cross gonna say when I tell him I fucked up a perfectly straightforward job over a piece of ass?
<
br /> I don’t even try to answer that. I just ride. That, as I learned a long time ago, is a very good way to get from one day to the next. Don’t worry about yesterday, don’t worry about tomorrow, just ride. Cross should’ve sent someone else to do this thing.
Eventually we reach the main road, and another ten minutes later we arrive at a large construction site. It’s on a cliff top a couple of miles out of town and the bright blue ocean is shimmering in the sun on one side, while a plateau with rolling hills in the distance is on the other. Griff sent us here to get a guy named Bullard and bring him back with us. That’s the guy who had Ink’s father killed, and that’s all I know.
The billboard attached to the metal fencing encircling the site shows that one day a huge complex of luxury condos will stand here, and it’s gonna be a gorgeous place to live, but for now it’s still early days—they’re barely done laying the foundation.
I have no idea how we’re gonna go about “collecting” Bullard, but I figure it’s a straightforward and kinda boring job for Horse. He argued with his father over how menial a task it is, but Griff shut him up right quick.
Frankly, if my father ever spoke to me the way Griff speaks to his sons, I’d have stood up for myself in no uncertain terms right from the start. But then again, what the fuck do I know? I met my father twice before he stayed inside for good, and his brother, my uncle and the man who raised me, was strict but fair. He never disrespected me the way Griff disrespects his sons.
We ride in through the main gate of the construction site, many of the workers eyeing our passage towards the two white trailers, which I assume are the HQ of this place. A man in a yellow hard hat, wearing a button-down shirt and tie and clutching a stack of papers comes out of one of the trailers when we’re about half way there, followed by a guy in a full-on suit. Five expensive and shiny-clean cars are parked in front of the trailers, telling me that Griff’s information about the execs all being here this morning was spot on. Not that I had any reason to doubt it.