BENT AT THE ALTAR: Broken Lions MC

by St. Rose, Claire

  “Okay,” Katrina chirped. She actually gave her about three. “I’m hungry,” Katrina repeated.

  Stella nodded and stretched. “Okay. What do you want for breakfast?”

  “Pancakes!”

  “You had pancakes yesterday.”

  “I want pancakes!”

  Stella snickered. “Okay, pancakes it is, but if you keep eating pancakes, you’re going to get fat!” she teased as she tickled Katrina to make her squeal and laugh. Katrina bailed out of the bed, and Stella chased her into the kitchen as Katrina shrieked in delight. As Stella prepared to make breakfast, Katrina place Ted in his own chair then climbed into her booster.

  While Katrina waited, chatting about whatever came to her mind, Stella pulled the recycled ketchup bottle with the pancake batter out of the fridge and gave it a good shake while the griddle warmed, then squirted out four small pancakes the size of a jelly jar lid. After a moment she flipped the four cakes, allowed them to cook a moment longer, then transferred them to a plate for Katrina. A tiny curl of butter and a dash of syrup on each one, a glass of milk, and Katrina’s breakfast was ready.

  While Katrina ate, Stella bathed and dressed for work. By ten everyone was fed, cleaned, and dressed for the day.

  “You ready, Monkey?” Stella asked.

  “Ready!” Katrina replied.

  “Let’s go, then. You have everything?”

  Katrina held up Ted for her mother to see, and Stella smiled. So long as they didn’t forget Ted, nothing else mattered. It helped Connie had a complement of clothes and toys at her house.

  “Into the car!” Stella cheered then chased her daughter across the room.

  “How’s my little angel this morning?” Connie asked as she opened the door.

  “Good,” Katrina replied as she entered and immediately headed back to her room where her toys were.

  “I’ll be by early,” Stella said, pressing the five twenties into Connie’s hand.

  “Thank you, dear,” Connie said, taking the money. She had given up arguing with Stella about it years ago. “No date tonight?”

  “No, Grammy, not tonight, but if it changes, I’ll call.”

  “I was just wondering. It seems like all you do anymore is work. I worry about you.”

  “Only a couple more months, then I can quit the diner.”

  “I know you must be looking forward to that.”

  Stella grinned. “You have no idea.” She gave Connie a peck on the cheek. “I’ve got to run. I’ll see you about eight-fifteen or so.”

  “We’ll be here.”

  ***

  Gabriel swam up from the darkness of sleep and scrubbed his face. He felt like warmed-over shit this morning. He’d returned home and done the very thing he’d left last night to avoid. He hadn’t killed the entire bottle, but he’d dipped deep into it, drinking it out of a disposable cup as he sat on the mattress, back propped against the wall, and stared at the empty room. He’d done a lot of that after he left Stella, fucking whoever he could bed, drinking alone, or both, as he tried to fill that hollow place with sex and booze. It hadn’t worked, but with the help of his brothers he’d pulled himself out of it and gotten his shit together.

  With a groan, his head pounding, he staggered to his feet. “Fuck,” he muttered to the empty room. Working at the clubhouse today was going to suck ! He dragged himself to the shower, leaving a trail of clothes behind as he did. The lotion Circe has spread on them had dried and his skin felt tight and slightly tacky, and he was looking forward to a shower.

  He stood in the shower for a long time, steadily adding more hot water to the stream as it ran ever colder, until the shower control hit the stop for full on hot. Only then did he pick up the bar of soap and begin to scrub.

  Shivering, but feeling somewhat revitalized, he stepped out and dried. His head was still pounding, but feeling a bit more alive than dead, he dressed and checked the time. It was nearly ten and he knew most of the brothers were already at work at the clubhouse.

  “Fuck,” he said again as he picked up his keys, feeling guilty that he wasn’t there to help them. He trotted down the steps and swung a leg over the bike, putting on his helmet and thumbing the machine to life with a wince. “Fuck…”

  The ten minute ride to the clubhouse, and the four Advil, helped clear his head and he was beginning to feel human again as he dismounted.

  “Well look who finally showed up, the walking dead!” Scratch crowed as he walked in, making the other eight men laugh.

  “Ha, ha, fuck you, Scratch,” Royal said as he gave him the finger.

  “Rough night last night?” Doc teased.

  “Got fucked by a witch. It took a lot out of me.”

  “A witch?” Hot Rod asked. “Was it that chick at the diner?”

  “No, somebody else, and that’s what she said. She’s a member of The Coven.”

  “Never heard of them,” Doc replied.

  Royal shrugged. “She was a little older, but I showed her what the Kings do to witches.”

  The men laughed at Royal. It was well known he was able to pull more than his fair share of pussy. “Well, now that you’re here,” Hammer said handing him a pair of wire snips, “you can help me start pulling down this nasty ass drop ceiling.” He pointed to the corner where part of the ceiling was already down. “You missed the fun this morning when I found the nest of baby rats.”

  “Great,” Royal muttered, taking the snips and looking around for another step ladder.

  ***

  Saturday was always the bakery’s busiest day and she usually had help, but today Melissa had called in sick and Stella was trying to handle it alone. The bakery was open seven days a week, but she only baked Tuesday through Saturday. Saturday was her biggest baking day as she baked enough bread, cakes, cookies and pies to cover Sunday and Monday. It was also the day when most custom orders came in.

  “How you doing?” June asked.

  “I could really use some help,” Stella said, still piping frosting on the birthday cake that was to be picked up in an hour. “I’m spending so much time waiting on customers that I can’t get the baking done.”

  “I’m sorry, Stella,” he said. “We’re short two today, Melissa and Joshua, but when I can free up someone, I’ll send them over.”

  Stella nodded, never slowing in her task. The cake should have been done an hour ago and she was feeling the pressure to get it finished. “Can you cover for me while I at least finish this?”

  June smiled. “Sure. I guess I can’t expect you to do all the work.”

  She lost herself in her task, finishing the decorative border, then switched colors and tips to make a group of flowers in the corner. She consulted the card with the requested message, then carefully piped it onto the cake. Happy 80 th Birthday, Rose. She added a bit of flourish by making the “O” in the name a rich red rose.

  “Do we have any baguettes?” June asked as she was putting the finishing touches on the cake.

  “In the oven,” she replied without looking up. “They should be ready any minute, but they need about thirty minutes to cool.”

  June relayed Stella’s message to the customer then watched as she carefully placed the cake in the carrying box. “I see what you mean. Let me see if I can shake someone loose to help you for a while.”

  “Thanks, June.” The oven began to call for her attention as Mrs. Wakowski approached the counter. The elderly woman stopped by every Saturday for her weekly supply of fresh bagels. “Will you give Mrs. Wakowski her bagels, please?” she asked as she handed June a bag of six.

  Stella only made bagels on Friday and Saturday because of the time required, but people in the know were always waiting in line snap them up. She never failed to run out each time she made them even though she made twelve dozen at a time, but she always made sure to put back six blueberries for Mrs. Wakowski.

  After she placed the baguettes on the cooling racks she decided she needed a bathroom break since there was nothing that requir
ed her immediate attention and June had sent over Wade to help. She gathered up the last four raisin cookies that hadn’t sold and took them with her to the breakroom, leaving them on the table for employee’s consumption.

  After washing her hands, she checked her phone, smiling at the text from Tony. Sorry I missed your call last night. Was busy. Tonight?

  Can’t tonight, she responded, not wanting to give up her time with Katrina. Sunday after work?

  She was putting her phone back in her purse when it buzzed in her hand with a message. See you then. She smiled and dropped the phone in her purse, shut her locker, and returned to the bakery, smiling as Wade helped a customer, two more standing in line.

  “Who’s next?” she asked as she walked up.

  ***

  Royal and his brothers looked around the now gutted clubhouse. Everything they could do, they’d done, and all that was left was cleaning up the mess they’d made. The contractor was scheduled to start early next week rebuilding the inside to make the empty shell into their home.

  “What do you think, brothers?” Doc asked. “Can we do something with it?”

  “If it comes out as nice as the drawings, it’ll be nicer than our clubhouse in Charleston,” Hot Rod said.

  “Smaller, though,” Scratch pointed out.

  “Who cares? There’s only the ten of us at the moment anyway. It’ll be a long time before we outgrow this place,” Doc pointed out.

  “All I know is, I’m ready to get this shit cleaned up and get a beer. Who’s with me?” Moose asked.

  The men began haul out the debris. “You okay?” Doc asked as he and Royal muscled a section of wall out.

  “Fine, why?”

  Doc grunted as they stood the wall section up at an angle and eased it through the door. “Last night. Picking up a random woman then waking up hung over. That seemed a little familiar to me. You?”

  Royal sighed. “Yeah, I guess it did.”

  “Is it coming back to Greenfield?”

  Royal didn’t answer until he muscled the wood and sheetrock into the dumpster. “Not so much that. Remember the diner?”

  “Yeah. That was her?”

  “Yeah.”

  Doc nodded. He knew Royal had beaten himself up over leaving Stella, but he thought he was past that. It sucked they’d been in town only a few days and he’d already run into her. “You okay? Did you know she would be there?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay, and no, I didn’t know she worked there. She used to work at On A Roll .”

  “You knew she might still be in Greenfield. If it was going to fuck you up, why’d you come back?”

  “I don’t know. Greenfield’s still my home. I thought I was over it. I guess not.”

  Doc put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You’re young. Give it time.”

  “Yeah. I know. Last night, after seeing her, it kind of reminded me of what I don’t have, you know? Not like you and Holly.”

  Doc nodded. “I know. But remember, I’m quite a bit older than you. I didn’t meet Holly until I was, let’s see, thirty-five. When I was twenty-five, I was still fucking whatever pussy I could find. You’ll find your Holly when the time’s right.” Doc gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I don’t know what you’re bitching about, though. You’re the only guy I know who can have a witch ride up beside him, end up fucking her twenty minutes later, and live to tell about it.”

  Royal laugh as they stepped out of the way so Jaunt could toss a load of ceiling tiles into the dumpster. “I suppose so.”

  CHAPTER FIVE Stella hurried into Carolina Diner just minutes before six. Sunday morning was the toughest day of the week. She had to get Katrina up and to Grammy’s early enough to be back at the diner by six, when the breakfast rush began. She always made it, but sometimes, like this morning, it was close.

  She pulled the six to two shift on Sunday, catching both the breakfast and the after church lunch rush. In the thick of the two rushes it could get hectic, but the extra tips made up for it.

  Around ten she was taking a breather, enjoying the relative calm between the two big crunches, when Gabriel and his friends walked in. Susan sat them in her section because she was the only one with enough open tables close enough together to take all ten men. She made up her mind that Gabriel was just another customer and she would treat him as such.

  The men were boisterous, but friendly, ordering coffee by the carafe along with eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes and potatoes. Tara helped bring the food out, but allowed her to pass it around.

  “Thank you,” Gabriel said as she slid his Famer’s Omelet in front of him.

  “You’re welcome,” she replied pleasantly, but continued with her task of passing out the food. Finished, she picked up the two trays and hurried away, returning a moment later to top off all the mugs.

  They took their time eating, laughing and kidding each other, lingering over their coffee. Finally, ninety minutes after they arrived and just before the big lunch crunch normally hit, they got up and left. She made sure she was busy at another table when they began to leave to avoid another ugly scene.

  As the last few men were paying, she began to gather her tips and clean the table. There were the usual three and four dollar tips, but where Gabriel was sitting, there was a crisp, new, fifty. She snatched the bill up and hurried out the door, certain the tip was a mistake. Nobody tips fifty bucks on a ten-dollar meal.

  She burst through the doors, but paused, not seeing any bikes. She heard the hogs bark to life behind the building and she hurried around the corner just in time to see them pulling away in a peloton of sound. She paused, trying to decide what to do, then returned to the diner, pocketing the fifty. She would hang on to it, and if she saw Gabriel again, return it.

  “Where’d you go?” Tara asked as she entered the diner again.

  “One of the guys left a fifty for a tip.”

  “So? That’s a good tip, but there were ten of them.”

  “No, you don’t understand. One guy left a fifty. Everyone else left a tip, too.”

  “Wow! Fifty bucks! I’ll wait them next time. Which one?”

  “Gabriel.”

  “That the guy you were talking to the other night?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think he’s sweet on you.”

  Stella snorted. “Yeah, well, he can just get over it. It was probably a mistake.”

  Tara grinned then moved away to check on her tables. “Somehow, I don’t think so.”

  Stella paused at Tara’s comment. No, it was a mistake, no matter what. If he left it on purpose, he’ll find out he can’t buy his way out of what he did, the shit.

  “What’s good here, besides you?” Tony asked as Stella stepped up to his table.

  She grinned. “Aren’t you the flirt today?”

  “Sorry about Friday. I was out with the guys.”

  “Guys?”

  He grinned and held up his hands. “Swear to God. I was at a buddy’s house playing poker. I forgot and left the phone in the truck. It wasn’t until I was ready to leave that I even missed it. We spent a half hour turning his house upside down before I found it in the truck. Boy, did I catch some shit over that. By the time that fiasco was over, it was almost two and I knew you’d already be in bed.”

  “Likely story,” she teased.

  He grinned. “You know you’re the only one for me.”

  She burst into laughter. “Now I know you’re lying.”

  His smiled softened. “Well, you could be.”

  She felt her heart sink a little. She knew he wanted more than she could give him, but she’d been up front and honest with him all along. “I know. I’m just not ready.”

  He smiled and nodded. “I know. But when you’re ready…” He held his fingers up to his ear in the shape of a telephone and mouthed Call me.

  “I have ten more minutes. You want anything?”

  “Other than you?”

  She grinned. “You can have that later. I meant now.”

/>   “No. Just a water.”

  “One water, coming up.”

  ***

  Having taken care of herself Friday night, she wasn’t itching to go like she had been, but she’d called him and she knew once they got started she would be into it.

  “Ready,” she said stopping at his table.