“So?”
“It’s hundreds of dollars.”
“Yeah,” Buck said slowly, then repeated, “So?”
“That’s a lot of money.”
“Yeah,” Buck said again, leaning slightly into me. “So?”
“I—”
He cut me off. “Babe, shut your trap and go have fun.”
“I—”
“They’re waitin’, Toots, and I got shit to do.”
“Buck—”
“Clara, go…have…fun.”
He was losing patience, I could tell.
“Do you carry that much money on you all the time?” I asked.
“No,” he answered. “I carry that much money on me when my girl’s goin’ shoppin’ and she needs some cake to have fun.”
Oh my.
Yes, I very much liked it when he was nice.
“I’ll pay you back,” I whispered, my fingers curling around the money.
“Don’t piss me off,” he replied, and this time, my chin listed back.
“What?”
He took in a deep, impatient breath.
Upon letting it go, he explained.
“I don’t got time for this shit, but I’ll make things clear considerin’ I didn’t before, though I thought I did,” he said as preamble.
When he didn’t continue, I nodded to indicate I’d heard and digested his preamble.
So he continued.
“I took you on. You’re in my house, you’re in my bed, and eventually you’re at my shop. Tonight, you’re meetin’ my kids. This all means you’re in my life. I let somethin’ in my life, I take care of it. Down the line, you get on your feet, you wanna do somethin’ nice for me in return, knock yourself out. But right now, the somethin’ nice for me you could do is get your ass in the SUV with Lorie, Driver and the girls so I can get on the road and take care of business. Now, are you gonna stop bein’ stupid and go have some fun or do we gotta talk about this for the next hour?”
I wanted to talk about it for the next hour, starting with a wee bit more discussion about taking so much money without paying it back and ending with him calling me stupid.
Considering his impatience, I decided to pick the part that might take the least time.
“It isn’t nice, calling someone stupid,” I noted quietly.
His expression changed to soft and sweet and warm, and his voice did the same thing when he replied, “I didn’t say you were stupid, baby. I said you were bein’ stupid. I know you’re not stupid. But you are gorgeous, so you don’t gotta worry that you look all right. And you gotta learn to let people who wanna do nice shit for you, do it.”
Okay then.
“Right. Now I’m going to go have some fun,” I told him.
“Right,” he murmured, his lips twitching, and he lifted a hand to curl it around the back of my neck as he bent his head and touched his mouth to mine.
His hand went from my neck to my wrist, he pulled me out of the bathroom, let me go but propelled me with fingers at the small of my back through the bedroom, out the door, onto the landing, and down the stairs to the kitchen where the girls and Driver were waiting to take me out to have fun.
I pinned a smile to my face when I saw them and hoped the day would be fun.
But I feared it would be torture.
And with things like this, I was almost always right.
9
Professor Higgins
I was right.
The day was torture.
It was torture for a variety of reasons.
Firstly, we went to Scottsdale Fashion Square, an old haunt of mine I hadn’t been to in ages.
This was because I had no money to spend.
This was also because I’d applied, interviewed and been turned down for so many jobs in shops there that I avoided it like the plague.
Secondly, Buck had given me hundreds of dollars, but I didn’t feel comfortable spending them. I would buy a cell because he told me to, but I wanted to do that just with Lorie in case they gave me grief over the contract. And I didn’t know how to get Lorie away from Minnie and Pinky.
Thirdly, Minnie didn’t like me, and she made no bones about it.
Minnie was petite, had large breasts, abundant hips and hard, assessing eyes.
Minnie was one of the MC’s member’s old lady. His name was Gash.
I could see Minnie with a man named Gash. A man named Gash seemed perfect for Minnie.
The other woman was named Pinky and she was tall, lean and had fake breasts that were pert, round and perfect, and I knew this because, in the tight tank top she was wearing, it was hard to miss. She had shining, straight black hair, was the woman of a man called Cruise and she was quiet.
Then again, with Lorie gabbing a mile a minute and Minnie throwing attitude, making it clear she wasn’t big on me being there and further didn’t like Fashion Square too much, Pinky kind of faded into the background.
And lastly, it was torture because I was out in public.
I tried to avoid this too.
People still recognized me. It came rarer, but it happened, and that day was no different. But this time, they were recognizing me with a shiner and therefore staring.
It was never comfortable and that day it was worse because I was with Minnie who made it clear she didn’t want to be with me.
Therefore, I retreated, became silent and tried to be invisible.
Also, as the slog through the stores wore on with no one really into shopping, I gave up on the cell. I’d ask Driver to take me to some phone store some other day. I hardly needed a phone when most of my time was spent at Buck’s house. He had a landline there. I’d need one when I entered the real world for good, whenever that would be, so now, I decided, it was not a priority.
We were in Victoria’s Secret.
I’d separated from the girls, and as I was noticing was usual, Pinky went her own way. Lorie and Minnie were inspecting black lace sets of underwear complete with garter belts when I accidentally wandered close, but I did this silently and they didn’t know I was there.
Therefore, I heard Minnie hiss, “… shit don’t stink.”
To this, Lorie said, “I think she’s sweet.”
And this was when I knew they were talking about me.
Before I could escape or make my presence known so they didn’t feel badly about talking about me, Minnie carried on.
“She thinks she’s better than us, fancy-ass shoes, fancy-ass top, lookin’ down her nose. Jesus, makes me sick. Her, lettin’ that asshole play her for years, thinkin’ she’s better than us. What the fuck is that all about?”
Those comments hurt for a variety of reasons, but mostly that she thought I was looking down my nose at her.
I’d had that in my old life, though it was the other way around. The women in my neighborhood with their yoga pants and expensive water bottles and three-thousand-dollar designer bags, the messy topknots in their hair that looked thrown up, but I knew (because I’d YouTubed a video on how to do it) took twenty minutes to accomplish. They thought they were better than everybody.
And I’d had that in my older life. The kids at school with their real parents and real homes and real lives.
It didn’t feel nice.
Pinky was wearing a tank top, jeans and high-heeled sandals. Lorie was in a mini-jeans-skirt and also was wearing a tank top and high-heeled sandals. Minnie wore a scrap of black fabric in a halter-top style that covered her breasts but completely exposed her back and stomach, tight jeans and high-heeled sandals.
I looked like the librarian I was (in better shoes) compared to them, this was true.
But they all looked nice, in a biker babe kind of way.
Just different than me, or really, anyone else at the mall.
I wasn’t looking down my nose at them.
I turned to escape when I heard, “Minnie, shut your mouth.”
This was Driver, who was right behind me.
I peered up at him to see
he looked angry and sort of ridiculous being all biker and standing in Victoria’s Secret, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable. He didn’t seem anything but angry and his eyes were locked on Minnie.
I turned again to see Lorie and Minnie were looking at Driver and me. Not only that, but Pinky had also gotten close.
Fantastic.
Lorie’s cheeks were pink.
Minnie’s face got hard.
“Um…you know, why don’t you guys, you know, do your thing? I’m going to go get a coffee,” I mumbled.
“Right,” Minnie snapped, and I knew at once she took this as me trying to get away from them and not for the reasons I was actually trying to get away from them.
“I can…” I started, my mind whirling, “buy some for you guys. I’ll take orders. What do you want?”
“I want lunch,” Lorie stated, coming to me and hooking her arm in mine. “Forget coffee, let’s get some food.”
I didn’t want food. My stomach was churning.
I also didn’t want to protest.
So I didn’t.
We hit the Yard House, and as we were led to our booth, all eyes came to us.
It struck me then that when I lived my life prior to it disintegrating, I hadn’t really noticed bikers or biker babes hanging in the places I frequented. This was probably because bikers and biker babes had their own places to hang. And Fashion Square and the Yard House likely weren’t on the list of those places.
We sat in a curved booth, me between Lorie and Driver, Minnie and Pinky across from us.
Minnie’s mood hadn’t changed.
Neither had Driver’s.
Pinky and Lorie exchanged several glances, and I felt badly that they were clearly uncomfortable with the tense atmosphere.
I felt badly, but I didn’t know what to do about it. So I studied my menu like I would be tested on it.
We ordered, and my menu was swept away, leaving me with nothing to hide behind. So my eyes wandered the restaurant.
They did this for a nanosecond, mainly because I’d caught three people staring at me and my black eye.
I suddenly felt like crying.
And just as suddenly, for some reason I did not know, my mouth opened of its own accord and out popped words, and this happened after my gaze locked on Minnie.
“People are staring at me,” I told her.
“What?” she snapped, her expression hard, the word clipped out in a way I knew she wasn’t real big on speaking to me at all.
“It happens all the time,” I carried on. “People recognize me. They stare. It’s worse today because of my black eye. I don’t like being out in public, so I usually don’t go. But Buck wanted me to have fun, so I’m here.”
“Who cares if people stare at you?” Minnie asked, voice still snappish.
“Well, I do,” I answered.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I know they know who I am, and they think I’m a loser.”
Pinky and Lorie exchanged another glance, and I felt Driver’s body move beside me, but I didn’t take my attention from Minnie.
“So? Who cares if they think you’re a loser?”
“I do,” I told her.
“Why?” she pushed, her voice still snappish.
“I don’t know. I just do,” I replied.
“That’s whacked,” she informed me.
“Sorry?” I asked.
“It’s whacked,” she repeated.
“It isn’t,” I said, then continued, “You don’t know. They aren’t doing it to you.”
“Oh yeah they are, and I don’t give a shit. They can look all they want and think what they want, and I don’t give that first fuck.”
I stared at her, finding this concept intriguing.
It was true. She was out in a halter top baring loads of flesh. She had big hair, hair that was platinum blonde and by no means a color found in nature. She had on loads of makeup. She attracted attention.
“That concept is intriguing,” I stated, her head jerked.
I heard Driver chuckle as Pinky let out a giggle, and I felt Lorie’s hand under the table giving my leg a squeeze.
“That concept is intriguing?” Minnie repeated after me.
“Well, yes, I hadn’t thought of that,” I said.
Minnie stared at me.
Then she stated, “Fuck me, in a million years I would never guess Buck would hook up with a bitch like you.”
I nodded.
“I agree,” I told her. “I don’t know him very well, but I would guess I’m not his type. I even asked him why, and although I believed his answer, I still find it odd he’s into me.”
“Are you into him?” Pinky put in quietly, and I looked at her.
“Um…yes.”
“Um, yes,” Minnie muttered, “I bet.”
“Sorry?” I asked Minnie.
“Ain’t no secret your shit’s messed up, babe, not a little, a-fuckin’-lot. Now, I don’t judge, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. What I do not like is you doin’ it with Buck.”
I was confused. “Doing what?”
“Takin’ advantage of him to get your shit sorted out.”
Oh God.
She thought I was using Buck.
“Minnie, Jesus,” Driver growled, sounding mad.
“You lie,” I stated, ignoring Driver, my eyes holding Minnie’s.
“Come again?”
“You lie,” I repeated. “You judge. You judge just like those people looking at me judge. You think you know me, but you don’t.”
Minnie’s back went straight, and her face got hard again just as the waitress put down our drinks. We stayed silent and tense through this (though Pinky muttered, “Thank you”) and then Minnie leaned in when the waitress was gone.
“Not big on a bitch talkin’ trash to me like that, Clara,” she warned.
“Min, honey,” Lorie murmured. “Cool down.”
“And this,” I whispered, tears suddenly filling my eyes, “is when it gets bad. People judge and sometimes I feel it with looks and sometimes they say stuff to me. Not like what you just said, but why you said it. You don’t like me, and you don’t even know me. You made up your mind before you even met me. And for some reason, some reason I don’t get, you feel well within your rights to lay it out for me even though I didn’t do that first thing to harm you.”
“Clara, honey,” Lorie said beside me, her hand coming back to my leg to give it another squeeze.
But I shook my head and didn’t take my focus from Minnie.
“And you know, the thing that gets me, it always gets me, is that I care. Even about what you think, regardless that you haven’t been nice to me even for a second. I care that you think I am what you think I am even though I’m not. That matters to me.” I sucked in breath and finished, “And it hurts.”
That’s when I looked down at the table, grabbed my Diet Coke and put the straw to my lips, avoiding everyone’s eyes, sucking back soda and trying to fight back the tears stinging the backs of my eyes.
“There you go,” Minnie said, and my gaze hesitantly went to her face.
“Sorry?”
“People say shit to you, you call ’em on it. There you go,” she replied, and I noticed her face, nor her voice was hard anymore.
“Sorry?” I repeated.
“Babe, I was bein’ a bitch.” Minnie sat back. “You’re right. And you were right to call me on it. They look at you, you feel like givin’ ’em ’tude, give it to them. Say, ‘What the fuck’s up your ass?’ Bet you say that, they won’t be starin’ at you no more and they’ll think twice before they do it to anyone else. They say somethin’ to you, you don’t feel like turnin’ the other cheek, you give it right back to them. Say, ‘And this is your business because…? Fuck off, asshole.’ Fuck ’em. What do you care? You ain’t ever gonna see them again.”
“That’s good advice,” Pinky whispered.
“I’m not sure I can do that,” I told Minnie, and she shr
ugged.
“Then don’t,” she returned. “But don’t let it get under your skin. Like I said, fuck ’em. They don’t mean shit to you. You walk away and you’ll never see ’em again. You let them control your life, invade your headspace, that ain’t right. It’s so not right it’s whacked.”
At that point, Lorie started talking, and I turned my head to her.
“Your old man, hon, let’s just say, he’s a dick. He fucked you over, big time. But you are doin’ this to you now. He’s gone and been gone awhile. But you’re still lettin’ him fuck you. Stop doin’ that.”
“That’s good advice too,” Pinky added her endorsement.
I hadn’t thought of it like that.
I hadn’t thought of any of this like that.
I looked at Minnie and explained, “I’m not taking advantage of Buck. He offered to help. I tried to leave town, then I got beat up so that became difficult. I didn’t even want to take his help, but he convinced me.”
“Sucks, babe,” Lorie muttered her understatement.
“I bet Buck can be pretty convincing,” Pinky muttered hers.
I kept talking to Minnie.
“And I don’t look down my nose at you. I’m not sure I could pull off that halter top, but I admire the fact that you can. You’ve got a lovely body and I think it’s cool you have no problems showing it off. I’m not cool. I’m a librarian. I’ve always wanted to be cool, maybe not by wearing halter tops, but I don’t know, in some way. I just don’t have it in me. I think I was born an awkward, geeky, brainy librarian. I could probably wear a halter top and still look like an awkward, geeky, brainy librarian.”
“Babe, you aren’t gonna know if that’s true shoppin’ in Fashion Square,” Minnie replied. “Ain’t no cool clothes here. Except maybe at Lucky.”
It was then the day took a drastic turn and this turn was perpetrated by Lorie.
And she did this by leaning in excitedly and suggesting, “Let’s eat and really take Clary shopping.”
“Oh yeah,” Pinky agreed, leaning in too, her eyes bright.
I felt a thrill race up my spine and I wasn’t sure it was a good one.
“Oh fuck,” Driver muttered, and I turned to him.
This was not one of his favorite chores and I had the distinct feeling it was going to get worse for him and for me.
Still Standing: Wild West MC Series Page 13
