by Voss, Deja
“I feel like we do. I don’t like keeping secrets from them. I don’t like being shady with you. It’s not going to be fun, but they love me. They’ve always accepted my choices even if they didn’t exactly want them for me at first. They’ll get over it. It’s not their life to live.”
I lean across the table and give him a kiss. “Let’s just see how today goes. One step at a time.”
“Have you heard from Red?” he asks. “I’m not really thrilled with how we left things off yesterday.”
Neither am I, but when I tried to call him this morning, his phone was shut off. I figure he’s probably working out or in a meeting, and I don’t need to bother him. He’ll come around. He always does.
“I haven’t. You don’t worry about him. You did nothing wrong. He was probably just anxious about being in Vegas all alone and was taking it out on you. I can’t imagine what he’s going through right now. This could really mean some big changes for him.”
It could mean some really big changes for all of us. I don’t want to admit that. Although a life on the road supporting my MMA fighter of a boyfriend, staying in fancy hotels and not having to worry about money sounds amazing, it’s unappealing to me. I like where I am. I don’t want to have to give that up for someone else’s dream, as selfish as that is.
“You know he’s only acting like this because he cares about you so much,” he says with a sigh. “He’s said all along he wants to make sure you’re taken care of, no matter what happens.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility to put on you, Tank,” I laugh. “You know I’m a grown woman and I can take care of myself.
“I do,” he says, getting up from the table and clearing our plates. “But I’m going to do my best to make sure you are, at the very least, happy and fed. Speaking of?”
“That meatloaf was to die for.”
“I know. You’re lucky you’re cute. If it were Red, I’d have probably smothered him in his sleep.”
He kisses me on the forehead, lingering for a minute, playing with my hair, staring at me lovingly. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Everything is going to be ok.
“I’m out of here,” he says. “Love you.”
“I gotta go paint my face on and try to squeeze into some leather booty shorts, and I’ll be right behind you. It’s going to be no easy task after the meatloaf fiasco that was yesterday, though.”
“Well tonight you don’t have to wear any shorts at all if you don’t want to,” he says with a wink. “I’ll swing by at eight or so?”
“Sounds perfect,” I watch him through the living room window as he pulls out of the driveway on his bike, and as I see him drive off, I already miss him. I know for a fact that I never want to have another day like yesterday. I never want to be mad at him again. Now if I could just get the other party on board, life would be so much easier.
***
Stacy comes in to relieve me at eight o’clock. For a Friday night, the place is surprisingly dead. The weather has been gorgeous all day today, and with summer coming to a close, a lot of our customers are using this time to take advantage of the final nice days of the season.
Of course the Mountain Misfit crew is hanging around. I don’t mind. I like these guys. They crack me up, and I know I don’t have to worry about anything when they’re around. Tank walks through the door as I’m counting my tips, and my heart skips a beat. I am so happy to see him. I’ve been thinking about him all day, and I want nothing more than to take him home and make up to him all night long.
I peck him on the lips.
“I’ll be done in about five minutes,” I say. “I just have to go get some ice for Kelly.”
“Oh come on,” Gavin says, “you better let your old man stay for at least one beer.”
“He can do whatever he wants, but these shorts are coming off in the next hour, regardless of where I am at that point in time.” Gavin raises his eyebrows at me and I realize how bad that probably sounded. “It’s a meatloaf overdose thing. You wouldn’t get it.”
“She literally spite ate seven pounds of ground beef last night,” I hear Tank telling the guys as I walk back to the kitchen to refill the ice buckets. I think he’s kind of impressed, and it makes me giggle.
I catch a shadow out of the corner of my eye, and it makes me jump. I know the guys tend to free roam around here, and you never know what state of undress you’re going to find someone tucked into any of the crevices of this building, but I’ve been here all night, and as far as I know, the dirty birdies are having their monthly ladies night, so I don’t know who it could possibly be.
“Hello!” I call out. “Is somebody back here?”
I look around the tiny kitchen and convince myself it was nothing. As I scoop ice from the machine into the buckets, I feel a hand on my shoulder.
“Holy shit!” I shout, spinning around quickly, holding the big metal ice scoop out in front of me.
“Sorry,” Buzzy says.
“What are you doing back here?” I ask. I haven’t seen him yet tonight, but his breath smells like stale alcohol and his eyes are bloodshot.
“The front door is locked. I came in the back.”
I just watched Tank walk through the front door. Maybe he’s just too drunk to pull it open.
“Well you shouldn’t be back here,” I say. “This is employees only.”
“Yeah, employees and the scumbag bikers they fuck.” He’s chuckling like a creep, and I just roll my eyes at him. If I wanted to, I could probably end his life with this ice scoop. I’m sure Kelly will see how drunk he is and send him on his way.
“Whatever, Buzz. Get out of here.” I push him towards the doorway that leads to the bar room and he stumbles off. I don’t know why I don’t just let the guys handle him. I guess it’s because he seems like the kind of person who would go out of his way to make our lives miserable. Who knows what he’s seen and heard just hanging around?
I finish filling my ice buckets and carry them behind the bar. I damn near drop them to the floor when I see Red standing there. He looks hot as ever, a shit-eating grin across his face, his teeth white and sparkly, and his arms flexed as he leans over the bar.
I run over to him, kissing him on the lips from across the bar.
“You’re home early!” I cheer.
“I really didn’t expect you to be so happy to see me,” he says. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“We’ll talk about that later. Right now I just want to hear about how your trip went.”
“Well will you look at that,” Buzzy shouts from the corner of the bar. “Little miss hot pants has a boyfriend. Does your other boyfriend know about this? He must. I mean he’s just standing over there with his hands in his pockets, watching you slut yourself around.”
“Dude,” I shout at him, “shut the hell up or go home.”
“I bet neither one of them know about what you actually do to men, though, do they, Ollie?”
Fuck, I think. I knew there was more to this guy than just someone who liked to irritate me. Maybe he’s just talking out his ass.
“I think you have me mistaken for someone who cares.” I shrug. I can feel the tension start to rise in the room, everyone’s stare directed right at this short little guy with the loud mouth.
“Come on, Red. Tell me how your trip went. Did you find an agent?”
He’s staring down the guy who seems to have lost interest in the conversation and is, instead, busying himself with a beer and football highlights on the TV overhead.
“Who is that guy?” he growls.
“He’s just some random asshole. He’s harmless. More of an irritant than anything, babe. You know how people get when they drink. I think he just hangs out here because it’s the closest place to his house.”
Tank comes over and slaps Red on the back. “Got any good news?” he asks. Stacy hands Red a beer, and he drinks it down in two long chugs.
“Probably going to have to lay off the alcohol f
or a few months starting Monday,” he says with a smirk. “I got a fight lined up in Vegas Thanksgiving Eve.”
“I’m so happy for you!” I squeal. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’m going pro, babe. It means I made it.”
My pride for this man burns through my entire body. I am so happy I could cry. We can worry about things like logistics and all the changes this is going to bring to our lives tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to be happy for his accomplishments.
I run around the bar and throw my arms around him.
“I guess we need to get some celebrating in tonight if you’re going to have to clean your act up,” Brooks says. “Can we get a round, Stacy?”
She lines up enough shot glasses on the bar for everyone in the room, Buzzy and herself included, and fills them with moonshine. As we slam them down, everyone cheers.
The creepy old man clears his throat and we all turn and look at him.
“So what’s your game plan, Olive? It’s not like this one is going to be easy to blackmail. You can’t just threaten to send pictures of you sucking his dick to his wife. Or do you have something worse on him? There’s gotta be a reason why you’ve been hanging around this place for so long.” Buzzy starts laughing, and everyone’s attention turns to me.
“So there is a reason why you’ve been irritating me for the last six months,” I say. “You think you know something about me. Who sent you here?”
“Olive, what is he talking about?” Tank asks.
It wasn’t one of the proudest moments of my life, but at the time, it seemed like the best option. Still, if I have to rip open old wounds, these would be the people I’d do it in front of. I’m really not ashamed of where I came from, because I’m not that person anymore.
“I made some poor life choices as a teenager.” I shrug. “I fell into the wrong crowd, and me and one of my girlfriends might have blackmailed some less than loyal husbands out of a lot of money.”
“You make it sound a lot cuter than it actually was,” Buzzy growls. “What she actually did was ruin men’s lives for her own personal gain.”
“I was seventeen years old and came from a severely broken home. Nobody ever got hurt. If anything, those scumbags got exactly what they deserved. So what exactly are you bringing this up now for? It’s been over fifteen years. Did someone send you here to get revenge? If they did, tell them that having to deal with your obnoxious ass has been worse than any punishment I could imagine.”
All he does is laugh, sipping his beer. Red puts his arm around my shoulder and Tank squeezes my hand. I know they’re on my side and I have nothing to worry about. I know nobody in this room is going to judge me for something so insignificant.
“I think it’s probably time for you to go,” Brooks says to him, taking his bottle of beer from his hand. “We don’t need any problems here. You got to speak your mind, now get out of here. We’ve been more than gracious with you.”
“I’m not leaving until she admits what she did.”
“She doesn’t owe you anything, dude,” Gavin says, grabbing him by the arm. “I don’t want to see you around here anymore.”
I feel Red’s grip around my shoulder tighten, and his heart is beating faster by the second, his chest pressed into my back.
“It’s ok,” Buzzy says. He walks over to me, sneering at me with his beady eyes, spit forming at the corners of his mouth. “I know where she lives. Her mother sold her out for a stamp bag. I just can’t believe she doesn’t remember my dick inside her. What’s that say about your body count, Olive?”
“I honestly do not recognize you,” I say. “Why would I lie?”
“I remember you,” he says. “Back before you had those big old bolt-on tits.”
I feel Red’s grip loosen from my shoulder and he shoves me off to the side, his fist connecting to Buzzy’s face with a crunch.
“Stop it right now,” I yell. “There’s no sense. He can say whatever he wants about me; it doesn’t hurt me.”
It’s too late though, he’s gone into wild animal mode. Buzzy’s on the floor, his hands up to his face as Red towers over him.
“It’s not worth it,” Tank growls. “You learned your lesson, didn’t you?” he asks Buzzy.
“Please,” he pleads, fear in his eyes, blood running from his nose.
Red hauls back with his boot and kicks him square in the gut. I swear I hear his ribs crunching, and it instantly makes me gag. I go into panic mode, trying to pull him off, but I’m swept up in a wave of bikers. Goob pulls me behind the bar with Stacy, and I watch through my fingers as the guys try and separate this one-sided fight.
“Jesus Christ, Red,” Gavin shouts, pulling him away from Buzzy as he continues to kick him with his boot. “Knock it off. He’s down.”
“This fucker,” he shouts, his eyes crazed and his jaw quivering. “How long have you guys let this go on? How long has he been harassing you, Olive?”
“It’s no big deal!” I cry out. “I just thought he was some drunk asshole, Red. It’s what you deal with in this business. He seemed harmless. I said I can handle it myself.”
The way Buzzy is writhing on the floor, blood spewing from the corners of his mouth, is a sure sign things aren’t looking good for him. It takes Austin and Clutch both to pin Red down, the look of rage on his face unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, even when I’ve seen him fighting in the ring. This is different. This is personal.
“Who is this fucking guy, anyway?” Brooks asks. “Are you sure you don’t know him?”
“I swear, Brooks,” I plead, “I’ve never seen him before until he started coming here. I have no reason to lie to you guys.”
“I know,” Brooks says. “We believe you. Just trying to make some sense out of this.”
Gavin pulls Buzzy’s wallet from his pocket, and immediately drops it to the ground, kicking it across the room to Red’s feet.
“You motherfucker,” he shouts. This man is dying before our very eyes and everyone in the room is silent, staring in horror at the badge on the floor that reads Federal Bureau of Investigation. “Girls, go in the office, please.”
“No,” I say boldly. “This is as much my problem as it is yours. This is my bar to run, and it’s my fault things got out of hand.”
“Red, you need to get the fuck out of here right now,” Gavin says. “You need to disappear real fast. I don’t want to hear from you or see your face until this shit blows over. You have too much to lose, brother.”
“Hell no,” he barks. “I’m a Misfit before anything else. I made this mess, and I’m cleaning it up.”
“Go,” Tank says, pulling his gun out of the waistband of his jeans and pointing it right at Red. “We got this. I know how to find you. It’s going to be ok.”
“You take care of her,” he says. The two hug, and I burst out into tears. I don’t know where he’s going to go, and I don’t know when I’m ever going to see him again, but this is not how I want to remember our goodbye. He was just trying to stand up for me. I start wailing.
“Hey,” he says, kissing me on the lips, running his fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, Olive. Maybe someday things will be different.” He disappears through the back door before I even have a chance to say goodbye.
I’m abruptly torn from our moment by the sound of a gunshot. Tank stands over Buzzy’s lifeless body, pistol in his hand.
“So now we have a dead FBI agent,” Gavin says. “Great.”
“It’s better than a half live one,” Tank says. “Maroon Ford Focus.” He tosses the car keys to Brooks. “Pull it around back and pop the trunk.”
He points the pistol right at Stacy, the only ‘outsider’ in the room. “Please don’t make me use this on you. Please tell me you know how to keep your fucking mouth shut.”
“I swear,” she says, putting her hands up in the air, surprisingly calm. “I didn’t see anything. I worked the afternoon shift, anyway. At least, that’s what the schedu
le says.”
“I’m sure you’re a really nice girl,” Tank says, “but if you make this a problem, I’m going to have to solve it.”
“I get it,” she says. “You’re the enforcer.”
I look around the room at the blood on the floor, the man with the hole in his head, the badge. Nothing about this is good. If Buzzy is who we think he is, then it’s definitely not as easy as dumping a body and playing innocent. This is something we’re all going to have to pay for for the rest of our lives, constantly looking over our shoulder and worrying about when it’s going to bite us in the ass.
Tank was right when he told me the other night that I have no right questioning his loyalty to the club, that I’m just some bartender and old lady. At least, I was until right this very second.
“Olive, what in the fuck are you doing?” Gavin shouts as he watches me pull out my cellphone, dial those three numbers, and hold it up to my ear.
“Shut up,” I whisper loudly. “Hi, yes, I need to report a break-in at the Bucktail Saloon. I was here by myself, closing, and I must have left the back door unlocked when I took the trash out. A man broke in and attacked me. I shot him. He’s not breathing. Can you please send someone?”
My hands are shaking as I drop my phone to the ground.
“What is wrong with you?” Gavin roars.
“This is the only way,” I say. “You guys need to get out of here real fast.”
“Do you know what’s going to happen to you?” Tank asks, his eyes welling with tears.
“No,” I say. I honestly have no clue at all what my fate holds, but I know I’m doing the right thing.
“I’m not leaving you.”
“You are,” Stacy says, stepping out from behind the bar. “She’s going to be fine.”
“Who the hell are you to say?” Tank says.
“I’m sorry, Olive,” Stacy says. “This is for your own good.” She grabs a bottle of beer from the bar, and as she swings back, I know exactly what’s about to happen. I feel it connect with my cheekbone, the pain bringing me to my knees.
