by Hazel Parker
That was eventful.
I MAKE it home in good time, just before five. Riley will get home late, since she is the only manager tonight. I decide I might make myself dinner, but then the idea of cooking and cleaning stirs me away. I pop in one of the frozen dinners I got, packed with sodium, I start to understand why I feel a bit heavy sometimes.
Anyway, I pack away the stuff and then go to change from the day. Riley and I switch off on groceries, and always end up paying the same amount. It is much easier than trying to coordinate and go at the same time. She knows I don’t make much though, only my stipend from school as a teaching assistant.
Once I change and plop in front of the television with my microwaved fried chicken and mashed potatoes, my phone goes off. I even set a ring tone for him and feel lame, but it doesn’t really matter when I see Jaxson come up on the screen.
“Hello?” I answer and put him on speaker. I put the television on mute but still watch the Kardashians go through their drama.
“Hey, baby.” His voice floods through the speaker. Such a beautiful, honeyed mix of deep and rough; rocks clashing but gliding down a mountain. It goes right to my pussy, tightens my nipples on the way.
“Hi, what are you doing?” my voice perks.
“Dealing with some shit at the club,” he sighs and I can tell he is scratching at his jaw like he does when he is thinking. “How was your day?”
I almost forgot about my horrible feedback. “Um, could have been better.”
“Is it better now?” he asks, implying that I am talking to him.
“Yeah, much better.” I grin to myself.
“Hm. Good. You can tell me about it later, in bed. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me too. You want to come over?” I ask him.
“Yeah, it might be late though. We have the guys at the club coming to the bar, we need to have a meeting with everyone. Bu they’ll probably bring their old ladies and turn it into a night.”
He adds that last part in cautiously. We have never had the conversation, not really, of whether or not we are in a relationship and if that makes me his old lady—I can’t remember if you have to be married for that or not. But I know that I’m not, at least not officially. And I don’t want to ask him. That classic and original fear I have always had surfaces, giving myself away only to be sent back. It is possible it might happen with Jaxson, and I am more than afraid of it.
“That’s okay. I have some work to do on my play so I’ll probably still be up.” Even if I weren’t, he is more than worth waiting up for.
“Well I was thinking you might want to come—” he says slowly, I am not used to his voice being cautious at times, so it’s an interesting thing. I am silent for a moment, shocked and over thinking things. Is he asking me to go as his old lady? Or just to go in general? I keep thinking it over until my head hurts.
“I do… what time?” I finally say, forcing myself to be nonchalant or relaxed.
He blows out a breath and seems to move to a quieter area, because I can hear him a little better.
“Around eleven we’ll probably be wrapped up. I’ll be stuck here though.”
“I can drive myself though, it’s not a big deal.”
I hear him smile, “Okay, good.”
I smile back to myself, too. He sounds so happy, and I am still not used to people being happy to see me. Happy to be around me or to talk to me.
“What are you doing?” he asks suddenly, after a bit of silence.
“I thought you had a meeting to get to.” I giggle.
“I have time.”
“Well, I am eating a frozen dinner and watching trash television.”
He chuckles once, I love when he does that. It’s so nonchalant, yet it suits him because that’s kind of how he is with that stuff. I can count on one hand how many times he has laughed. Since I haven’t seen him in a week, I don’t know about the smiling part.
“Sounds like you. Why don’t you eat real food? Every day it’s something frozen or fast.”
I laugh, “Are you telling me what to eat?”
“No, I would never do that.” He doesn’t get defensive and says simply.
“Well I never have time to cook. And when I do, I’m too lazy to do it.”
“I get it, I’m the same way. And then my mom will show up with a casserole of some sort and it’s all good.”
“Your mom lives here? How did I not know this?” I ask myself, my brows come together as I try to think.
“I think I mentioned, you might have fallen asleep before I knew though.”
I laugh, “Yeah, phone calls make me sleepy.”
“I thought I would keep you awake.” He states.
“You do, you have your moments.”
“My brother Simon meal preps, you should try that.” He suggests with humor in his tone.
“Yuck. Sounds too Pintrest to me.”
“Too what?” he asks, his tone makes me smile.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” I laugh.
“So, I had something weird happen today, it’s part of why I called you. Among other things.”
“Okay, what was it?” I eat my last bite and put the plastic container on the coffee table, then I drink down my water, when he starts explaining I almost spit it out.
“I had a guy call me, an old prospect. He asked me if I was seeing a ‘brown haired girl, pretty hot’ I didn’t really say anything, and then he hung up.” Jaxson lets out a sigh, then he waits for my answer.
Nothing has happened except for that guy at the grocery store, but I don’t know if it’s him. Anyone could have been asking him that.”
“Um… what did he look like?” I ask.
“What happened, Isabelle?” Jaxson hardens his voice, and it almost scares me, even though I know his anger isn’t directed at me. I know how protective he is. He was like that before he even met me, officially, telling me to get the hell out of the club just to protect me from what he foresaw happening to me.
Now that he knows me, and has had me, claimed me as his in his mind… I don’t even want to know what he might do.
“I don’t know, it could be unrelated.”
“Isabelle.” He practically growls.
I swallow hard and lick my lips as I slump on the couch.
“This guy at the grocery store tried to ask me out, I said no. He had asked me if I had a boyfriend and I just said that I did so he would leave me alone. I mentioned your name and he backed off just like that.” I snap my fingers. It is weird now that I think of it as it happened. The look on his face when he heard Jaxson’s name is unforgettable.
I didn’t know Jaxson was that known or respected, or feared… either one had that guy pale and blabbering.
“He had asked me not to tell you, I don’t know why. And he had this ugly healing bruise on his jaw.” I sigh. Thinking that identification will rule him out but it only makes Jaxson curse angrily.
“Fuck. Yeah, that’s him.”
“Well it isn’t a bad thing, I don’t think. He left me alone as soon as I mentioned your name.” I explain. I don’t know why it sounds like I am trying to defend him, but I just don’t want Jaxson flying off the handle for some man who doesn’t even matter.
“Yeah well, he would have.”
I take a long pause, wondering if I even want to ask him this. I know it might lead to an answer I don’t like, but it will be an answer, nonetheless.
“Why? Why would he back off that easily?” I ask, with major caution.
Jaxson sighs, avoiding the answer. I can hear him thinking on the other end and get more afraid of the answer before it even comes.
“You know why.” He finally says, but it was so evasive that it does nothing while he thinks it can do everything.
“Jaxson, I don’t.” I respond, trying not to be difficult. But I hear the pleading in my voice more than anything else. I have only now wondered what he does, how dangerous he can be… who he might really be.
“Isa
belle, don’t worry yourself about this—”
“I do worry. Jaxson, I know you’re not a bad guy. But if you’ve done bad things then I deserve to know, you can’t just keep me in the dark and let strange men hit on me and then run away at the mention of your name.” I start to get angry, more freaked out.
“How do I know you don’t have enemies, that won’t try to get back at you, by going through me? I don’t. So you can at least tell me why this particular guy was ready to grope in a grocery store but didn’t know right from left once I said your name.” I let it all out in almost one breath, and take a huge deep breath afterwards.
I hear silence on his end, and then only his breathing.
“He was the prospect that got in a fight at the club that night we met.”
I sigh, that isn’t that bad. He made it seem so much worse.
“I told him not to come around or go near the club, that I never wanted to hear his name again. Or I would end him.” He adds simply, like it’s after the fact, an afterthought.
“Oh. Okay.” I nod to myself.
He clears his throat and I can tell he is moving around again. He must be at the club or something,
“That isn’t that bad, but what about the others?” I ask.
“The others?”
“Yeah. Other people that might have pissed you off and you’ve gone after. With the club and everything… aren’t you worried all your enemies might catch up to you?” I ask him, with caution in my voice yet again. I keep getting worried that he will end the conversation at any point and shut me out, because he was like that at first. But it is ironic that what I fear the most with him is the same thing that I do to him. If he finds out about my past, I am worried that he won’t agree with it.
After a long pause, I hear his breathing again, he says my name with so much pain that I don’t recognize it. I don’t see how he might be able to sound anything but, and I wish we weren’t having this conversation over the phone, I wish he were right in front of me so I could hold him, look in his eyes and hold his gaze. I feel his pain, even this far away, and it seems that I keep forgetting how intense our connection is. How fast and consuming it is.
“I don’t have any enemies, Isabelle, because they’re all dead.”
It is hard for me to respond because I know I don’t have the right thing to say. He was honest, so I can’t discount that by saying just anything. And I know that I shouldn’t.
“Jaxson… you don’t have to worry about—I won’t judge you.” I finally say, it seems right. It seems good enough. I close my eyes, wishing he was here, wishing that I could look at him and assure him with a hug or a kiss. My voice isn’t that convincing, if I were writing this down, than sure.
“You should be.”
“I don’t though, and you can’t force me to.” I say firmly.
“I’m not, just… I’m not used to anyone accepting me like this, okay?”
“Well, I’m not either.”
“You haven’t done what I have. It’s different.”
“I know, Jaxson. All I’m saying is that it doesn’t matter.”
“Okay,” he sighs. “Thanks, baby.”
I swell at his pet name for me, they’ve never been used on me so I am not used to it at all. I smile softly to myself and take a deep breath. That was a conversation I was not prepared for.
“Yeah, of course.”
“Okay, I definitely have to go into this meeting now, but I will see you later. If you don’t see me when you come in, just ask anyone for me and they’ll come get me.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later.”
“Be careful.” He says before he hangs up. In my head, he might as well have said that he loves me, but that’s way too soon and I know that, I’m just imagining things though.
I spend a bit more time on the couch before I move to the desk in my bedroom to look over all the notes on my play. It is probably a bad idea, but I have to get through it at some point, and it will be better to do it before I see Jaxson, so if I drive myself mad I can just look in his eyes and be grounded again.
But John wasn’t as bad as I thought. It was just the first summary of notes that floored me.
He gave detailed feedback and seemed to care a lot about the story. I have never written anything like it, or anything in the genre before, so to have done well enough to get real feedback, is like a new day for me. I’m more than ready now, to take apart the play and make it better.
If I start, I may be trapped to the desk all day.
So I just look over the notes and make a document of all the things I’ll use on a separate document, then I start to get ready. I was in a rush in the morning and didn’t get to shower, Jaxson kept me up all night, and so I go to shower, thinking about what I will wear while I’m in there.
The club is weird to me, I don’t know what to wear. I can wear regular club clothes but it isn’t a regular club, I can’t wear regular bar clothes either. When I get out and dry off, I pick some of my best lingerie and then wear my tightest pair of jeans, a cropped sweater and jean jacket, and a brown pair of knee-high boots. I check myself in the mirror and decide that I look decent enough.
I brush out my wavy hair and touch up with light makeup and decent enough lipstick, it’s a light color so it looks like my lips are just accentuated. Jaxson apparently likes when I wear anything, so I’m not too worried in that department. It’s the others that I’m worried about. I don’t know if he is introducing me to everyone, and how he might do it, but if he does, I want to make him look good. I want to be the best old lady in the room, for Jaxson.
THE DRIVE IS LONG, filled with my nerves and unease. I pull up to the entrance of the club and find it lined with bikes. All Harleys, I think, big and small, customized and just ordinary. I can easily pick Jaxson’s out because of the president logo he has on it. I park by other cars, people who must have driven themselves or didn’t ride on the back of bikes.
As soon as I cut my engine, I hear the loud music. And the closer I get to the door, the sounds of bargoers alike, music, glasses clinking together, chairs scraping. I walk into the smell of beer and salt of peanuts and possibly fries, I have no idea what might be in the back. It smells old, but like it has character, and I am seeing it in such a different light than the firs time. Without Riley, and without being worried of what I would see.
I hug my purse tight to my side and start to feel the roving eyes. It seemed that before Jaxson, I didn’t feel this way. I didn’t feel when eyes were on me until his were. And so many are. The club members are easily recognizable because of their cuts, and an aura around them that screams possibly dangerous biker.
Some of them are young, maybe my age or in their thirties, and others are older, pushing gray hair and wrinkles. I stop by the bar for a drink, for some courage to go up to Jaxson when I see him in front of all these people. It’s packed and it takes a bit for me to get a simple vodka cran. It is simple enough for me to down and not take too long.
“Hello miss,” a man says to me, but it’s friendly. I look up to one of the older guys who has a kind smile, and a cut that looks decades old.
“Hi.”
“I hope you aren’t here alone.” He says in a way that reminds me of what my dad might have sounded like, or a big brother. I take my drink and pay the bartender, who also looks familiar in the face but I can’t place why. He has a cut on too.
“No, I’m meeting someone—my boyfriend.” I say. Worried, that he is in the club too and will know Jaxson.
“Is he in the club?” he asks curiously, he seems nice enough so I keep talking to him.
“Uh, yeah. I don’t know where he is though.” I decide not to tell him his name, just in case it doesn’t turn out well for me.
“Oh, nice. They’re good guys, the MC members. Don’t let them intimidate you.” He winks and walks away, and for some reason I feel like I just talked to my guardian angel.
When I finish my drink, I figure I waited long enough. I texted Jaxson
that I was here, but he didn’t respond yet. The bartender comes back around and I figure he might know.
“Hey, I’m looking for Jaxson, have you seen him?” I shout over the loud music and he has to lean in close.
He smells of leather and cologne, and alcohol. His eyes are so familiar and I don’t know why, even the shape of his jaw. He has this permanent crooked smile that only widens.
“A bit too much, yeah.”
I make a face and he explains.
“He’s my brother. I’m Zeke,” he holds out his hand and I shake it. “Last I saw him, he was in the billiard room. Right back there through the left.”
“Thanks.”
“Wait, who are you?” he asks as I turn on my heel. I open my mouth to answer but it doesn’t come through. I don’t know if Jaxson has told his brothers about me and I don’t want to accidentally do it for him.
“Um, Isabelle.”
He flashes that grin again and it only makes me smile back, of course he is obviously hot in that obvious, boyish way, but I only have eyes for Jaxson. I leave the bar before he can question me and I feel him staring after, probably planning to ask Jaxson when he sees him.
I weave through the crowd, spotting women all dressed differently. It is interesting to see who is obviously with someone, the way the women hang onto the men but they hold them back close to them, or always seem to keep one eye on them. And then there are the ones who are trying to get one of the men, and have to fight for their attention in an obvious way. They are also dressed less modestly.
I seem to find where the billiard room is and turn a sharp corner, I smile when I see Jaxson but am floored when I find out where he is.
His back is to me, at first, but then a giggle comes out and he is turned to he side, and a woman appears; she’s… glaringly sexy. Tall, lithe, with ample ass and tits and a tight dress on. The way she touches his arm and leans in close to him makes me sick. But I still don’t know what’s going on.
She gasps, “Jaxson,” and I hold back a growl. I plan to just turn around and leave, but hit a kink in the ground that makes me stumble, and my heels hit the ground to announce me.
