by Sarah Bale
He sits on the edge of the bed. “Partly. Hell, I don’t know. Everything was great and then all of a sudden it wasn’t. You’re not there. Can’t stand to be around Saint. Bash and Razor are moping around, so they’re no fun. And then there’s my mom.” He sighs. “I know it’s crazy because she hasn’t worked there in years, but I feel her presence everywhere. Especially in the main room. It’s just not the same.”
I brush my lips against his. “Then, let’s eat lunch and go take care of our business.”
“Deal.”
We have lunch at a cute little diner that King obviously goes to often. The waitress is an older woman, who lets out a hoot when we enter.
“Did ya bring your cute friend with all the tattoos?”
“No, Tabatha. I did bring my girlfriend, though.”
I low-key love that he calls me his girlfriend.
Tabatha puts on a thick pair of spectacles and peers at me. “Girl, are you blind?”
“No, ma’am?”
“Why is someone as pretty as you with him? Have you met his other friends? That Saint is a real treat.”
I bite back a grin and answer, “He is, but I’m partial to King.”
“Good answer,” King murmurs into my ear.
Tabatha leads us to a table near the window. From here, we have a lovely view of the park across the street. When she’s gone, King reaches across the table, taking my hand into his.
“I was thinking – we didn’t get to know each other very well last time. Maybe we can act like this is our first date.”
“I’d like that.” I pause. “My therapist would say it’s a good idea, too.”
He doesn’t seem taken aback at my therapist revelation, and nods. “Good. So, Olivia, what do you like to do in your spare time?”
I’m reminded of when I first met Bash, and he asked me a similar question.
“I like to read. Kind of lame, I know.”
“Who’s your favorite author?”
“You can’t ask me to pick a favorite!”
He grins. “Fair enough.”
“What about you? What do you like doing in your free time?”
“Pretty redheads.”
“King!” But I’m laughing.
“That sounded like something out of Razor’s book, didn’t it?”
“A bit.”
He thinks. “Obviously I like riding. When I was younger, I used to ride something entirely different.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“My mom thought it would be a good idea to get me in equestrianism, so I did competitive equestrian vaulting.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not. Did it for a couple of years until I got into football. My dad was thrilled, my mom, not so much.”
“That’s amazing.”
“We’ll have to go on a date to the farm where my mare lives. She’s from the same bloodline of the horse I used to ride when I was younger.”
I say, “That would be amazing. I’m kind of jealous. Growing up, we were too poor for me to have a hobby.”
“What would you have done if you could?”
Get away from the monster living with me.
I answer, “I always wanted to be a ballerina. I got to take classes for a few weeks at the local Y, but that was short-lived because we had to move all the time.”
We were never able to keep a house because any time my parents got money, they’d use it on drugs and alcohol. Just about the time I’d get settled, we’d be packing up. Sometimes we stayed with their friends, which was worse. Instead of worrying about one monster, I feared them all.
“Story of my life. The only reason I got into horses was because my maternal grandfather was loaded. He thought that if he enriched my life that I wouldn’t turn out like my parents. Guess the joke’s on him.”
“You turned out pretty great in my opinion.”
Tabatha returns at that moment with our water. “Getting the usual, King?”
To me, he says, “They make the best BLT here.”
“That sounds perfect.”
Tabatha nods. “Good taste in men. Good taste in food. I like her. I’ll be back with your food.”
I grin when she’s gone. “She’s nice.”
“She used to be one of the biker’s old ladies. When he passed away unexpectedly, Saint made sure she was taken care of. She doesn’t have to work here, but I think she likes talking to the customers.”
“How long have you known Saint?”
“For over twenty years. His dad was the Prez of the Devil’s Regents when my dad was a member. We lost touch when I was in the Army, but when I got out, it was like no time had passed.”
“What did you do in the Army?”
“Whatever they asked me to. When I got hurt, they tossed me away like I didn’t matter. I guess, to them, I didn’t.” He takes a sip of water. “My turn. Bash mentioned you didn’t really want to be an accountant. What do you really want to do?”
I’m surprised he and Bash talked about me, but I reply, “I don’t know, to be honest. Number make sense and are reliable, but it’s kind of boring. I thought about being a teacher at one point. Or maybe a chef.”
“You should do what makes you happy.”
“It’s kind of too late at this point. I graduate in May, and I don’t want it to be for nothing. Besides, you don’t have to love what you do for a living.”
That’s what I keep telling myself, at least.
“Okay. Next question. And this is a big one. Creamy or soupy macaroni.”
“Eww. Creamy, obviously.”
“Same. That was a deal breaker for me.”
I laugh. “If you said soupy, I was going to leave.”
My phone dings and I glance at it before groaning. It’s freaking Chase, asking what time he should pick me up for dinner.
“What’s up?”
“I agreed to go to dinner with a classmate Friday night. It’s a grand opening of some fancy place and is hard to get an invite to. I thought it was a group thing, but I was wrong. I can cancel, of course.”
“Is it a guy or girl?”
“Guy.”
“You into him?”
“Not in the least.”
“Then go. Enjoy some good food on his dime.”
Tabatha walks up with our lunch and says, “Listen to him. His momma didn’t raise no fool.”
King actually looks pained for a moment before nodding. “She most certainly did not.”
When Tabatha leaves, I ask in a low tone, “Are you okay?”
“Moments like that just punch me in the gut. I keep forgetting she’s gone.”
“I felt the same way after my mom died,” I admit.
“How old were you?”
“Fourteen.” I toy with the paper napkin in my lap. “I haven’t talked about her in a long time.”
“You don’t have to, Liv.”
“I think that’s part of my problem. For as long as I can remember, I’ve run from my problems. Since I’ve been seeing Dr. Cross, I keep thinking I should stop. Face the music.” I inhale. “My mom always had addiction problems. Toward the end, she got hooked on this stuff that just – well, it consumed her.”
I think back to the first night she got high on it. The crystals looked harmless enough. Well, as harmless as meth, which was her normal drug of choice. He brought it home and they got fucked up together. His high didn’t last as long as hers, which worked out against me. When she finally came down, she looked… different. She begged him for more and he said he’d get it if she agreed to do something.
My skin crawls as I remember how easily she agreed. Said I was old enough. That it was okay, because in some states girls my age were married off. She acted like this was the first she knew of his drug of choice – me. So, she said yes and he got her more drugs. And more. And more. Until her teeth fell out and she didn’t know who I was. All she saw was those fucking crystals.
“Olivia?”
“I came home from
school early one day. I wasn’t feeling well.”
It was one week after my miscarriage – the one he forced me to lie about. The one where my mom hit me as hard as he did, saying I was a whore for sleeping around, even though I hadn’t. I still had bruises from both of them marring my skin. Most were hidden, but not the one that spanned my cheek. She’d hit me with the buckle of a belt. Said I deserved the pain from the metal. She even laughed after she hit me, saying she hoped she broke my cheekbone. Hell, sometimes I wonder if she did, because it took forever for that wound to heal.
“I didn’t know anything was wrong at first. She was in her room, the door closed. I went to my room to take a nap.”
What I was really doing was trying to get some rest before he came home. He always came to see me at night. The only time I could sleep in peace was when he was gone. But the smoke alarm in the hallway kept chirping until I finally got out of bed to see what was going on.
“She’d lit a cigarette before she got high. The blunt must have fallen onto the mattress, catching the blanket on fire.”
“Fuck. Liv.”
I lift one shoulder in a shrug. “She was dead long before the fire erupted. The autopsy confirmed she died from an overdose.”
“And your dad?”
I flinch. “He had his demons, too. In the end, he got what he deserved.”
I don’t say any more, because he’s not worth wasting my breath on.
King says, “I’m sorry your mother did that to you. Mothers are supposed to protect their kids and make sure they’re taken care of.”
My eyes fill with tears. “Thank you.”
It’s strange – no one has ever apologized for her actions. Not that it’s King’s fault, but the gesture means so much to me.
“Enough of this depressing talk,” I say. “Next question. What’s your favorite band?”
“Oh shit. Where do I start?”
We spend the next few hours talking, getting to know each other. We ask silly questions and serious questions. One thing is clear – I’ve never done this with anyone before. It’s nice and kind of scary at the same time.
Around six, King drops me off at my place, and we agree that he’ll pick me up around eleven. It’ll give him time to go to Church and I’ll be able to make an appearance at the party.
He kisses me one last time and I let out a groan.
“I really, really don’t want to go to this party, but I think my roommate will be pissed if I bail.”
“You should go. Do thing people your age do. See if you’re missing out on anything.”
I brush my lips against his. “They’re the ones missing out, King.”
Our kisses become more intense and desire burns deep in my body. When his hand slips under my shirt, I moan.
“King.”
I’m about to climb into his lap when someone pounds on the window. We both jump, and I realize the windows are fogged over.
“If that ain’t a cop, I’m going to be pissed,” King mutters.
Rolling down the window, I find Chase and Andrew. Well, Andrew is actually a few feet away, looking like he’d rather be anywhere, but here. Chase, on the other hand, peers into the truck.
“Olivia,” he bites out. “Who is this… man?”
King kills the engine, getting out. My heart is pounding, because I have no fucking idea what is going to happen. King pushes past Chase and opens my door. When I get out, King puts his arm around my shoulder, staking his claim on me. While I like it, I also don’t want a fight to break out.
“Hey Chase. Hey Andrew. This is King.”
“Nice to meet you,” Andrew says with a nod of his head.
“Likewise.”
Chase is still staring at me. “Who is he?”
“I’m her boyfriend.”
Chase’s jaw ticks. “Olivia, I’m really starting to question your taste in men. First that biker and now this guy?”
“Chase! Dude, stop being a dick,” Andrew says.
Chase shakes his head and walks to Andrew’s car, getting in.
When he’s gone, Andrew says, “I’m really sorry about that. He speaks without thinking. A lot.”
King replies, “Your friend is a dick, and you shouldn’t have to apologize for him, but thank you.” He then leans down, brushing his lips against mine. “See you later, babe.”
I wait until he drives away before asking Andrew, “Has Chase always been so… intense?”
“No, he hasn’t.”
“I’m not going to lie – he gives me a weird vibe. But, you’re a nice guy, and I don’t think you’d hang around him if there were something wrong with him.”
“I think he gets caught up in his own head. Plus, he’s been spending a lot of time with our other roommate, Mitch, and, well, Mitch can be a bad influence.” He shakes his head. “Again, I’m sorry. And, for what it’s worth, King seems nice.”
“Thanks.” I smile. “I guess I better go change.”
“Yeah, we’re early. Again, sorry.”
“No worries.”
I go inside and call out to Lucy, “Andrew is already here. I’m going to change real fast.”
Something clatters from her room and she answers, “Darn it. I knew I shouldn’t try to curl my hair. Okay, I’ll hurry.”
I’m not sure what I want to wear tonight, especially since it’s a pool party, but I put my swimsuit on, and then shorts and a tank top over my suit. Perfect for an end-of-the-summer party. Plus, it’ll be less clothes to take off when I see King later. I redo my bun and grab my phone. When I get to the living room, Lucy is waiting.
She grins. “So, I met King this morning.”
“I heard.”
“He’s, ah, a big guy.” Her eyes are twinkling.
“You have no idea.”
“After this morning, I think I do have an idea.”
We both giggle as we go outside, where Andrew and Chase await. Andrew insists that Lucy sits in the back with me. Chase isn’t happy, but finally gets into the passenger’s seat, slamming the door shut. Andrew winks at me before getting in.
My phone dings as we take off.
Lucy: What was that about?
Me: Chase and Andrew met King before I came in. Chase wasn’t happy.
Lucy: Ohhh.
Me: Yeahhhh.
Me: He got all pissed off. It kind of creeped me out.
Lucy: You still going to dinner with him?
Me: I’m starting to question whether I should.
Lucy: Yeah. Might not be a bad idea to cancel.
Lucy: Besides, your new guy is much cuter.
Lucy: Where did you meet him?
Me: He’s one of Bash’s friend.
She looks over at me before typing furiously on her phone.
Lucy: WHAT.
Lucy: I need details. Now.
Me: I, uh, have a confession.
Me: I wasn’t just dating Bash…
Me: I was dating Bash, and his two friends. Razor and King.
Lucy: Dang girl! Is Razor as cute as Bash and King?
I think of Razor, with his sharp features, tanned skin, and dark eyes that make me melt.
Me: Yeah. Just as cute.
Lucy: So, does this mean you’re back with Bash, too?
Me: Not yet.
Not yet. Holy crap. I mean, it’s true though. Getting King back in my life makes me realize how much I want Bash and Razor back.
Lucy: Get it, girl!
She grins at me as we pull up to the party. As much as I don’t want to be here, in a few short hours I’ll be back with King. And that’s pretty damn awesome.
10
Razor
Is it possible to want to punch one of your best friends in the face every time he opens his mouth? Asking for a friend me.
Saint finally finishes speaking and opens the floor for comments, questions, and concerns. I barely listen as my brothers argue back and forth about whether we should get out of the drug business and go clean. If someone would have ask
ed me my stance on this a year ago, I would have told them we’d never be a law-abiding club. Guess the joke’s on me. But I can’t even bring myself to fucking care.
Bash is actually paying attention, interjecting when needed, but I don’t care. Glancing over at King, I see he’s not listening, either. Instead, he’s on his phone, grinning like a fool. Wonder what in the fuck he’s so happy about.
I don’t even realize Church is over until the room empties. Saint and King are talking, so I brush past them. I need a fucking drink. I’ve been good all week so Bash and I could work on his place at the lake, but tonight I’m going to let loose. Fuck it all.
Someone grabs my arm, stopping me, and I turn, swinging.
“Damn, dude. It’s just me.” King shoves my arm away. “Can you do me a favor?”
“What’s is it?”
“I’m supposed to pick up Olivia tonight, but Saint needs me to take care of something.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Olivia?”
“Yeah.” He shakes his head, as if he can’t believe what he’s about to say. “I went to her last night after I got that letter in the mail. Man, it was the best fucking thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
“Does Saint know?”
“No. And I’d like to keep it like that for a while until I figure out what I’m going to do.”
He’s fucked.
I must voice my thought because he replies, “Let’s just hope he doesn’t give me an ultimatum. He might not like my answer if he does. So, are we good?”
“Yeah. I’ll get her.”
“Good. I’ll text you the address. Doesn’t sound like she’s having a good time.”
“Where am I taking her?”
“Back to her place. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Hearing that he has plans with her feels like someone punched me in my junk - it hurts to breathe and sharp pain followed by numbness creeps across my entire body.
“You okay, man? If you’ve been drinking, I’ll ask Bash.”
“I’m fine. Just hard to believe you were the one who went after her. Thought for sure it’d be Bash.”
He snorts. “And I thought it’d be you. You better go.”
I wave my hand in the air as I go outside, to my bike. I suddenly feel like a kid about to ask the hot girl at school on a date. I’m not quite sure what she’ll do when she sees me. Fuck. Only one way to find out. Besides, King is right – I should have gone after her sooner.
