by Hope Stone
I’m not saying he was wrong, but after three weeks I was done.
Most of my flings followed that pattern. Different guys, different careers, same impatience on my part. I knew it was more my problem than the guys I dated. I wasn’t the type to blame others for my own restlessness.
I also wasn’t the type to sit and mope at home. I liked flirting. I enjoyed that fluttery feeling you get in your stomach when you meet a guy who maybe, just maybe, will be different from all the rest. Someone who will make every day an adventure.
Only that guy couldn’t be Pin. I would tie up this case with a big bow, wish Kim the best, and then go out and meet someone else. Easy.
By the time I got back to my one-bedroom apartment, it was almost midnight. I sighed but didn’t go straight to bed.
Instead, I pulled out my notebook and wrote down all my notes from the night. It was best to record everything while it was still fresh in my mind. I had long since learned that no detail was too small or unimportant. People you thought were side characters could end up being key witnesses.
I wrote down every name of those I had encountered: Moves, Hawk, Carlos, Kim, Trey. Pin. After that, I jotted down physical characteristics and everything they had said, no matter how inconsequential.
Then I turned to a new page and wrote “Outlaw Souls” at the top. I paused with my pen suspended midair. I didn’t really know anything about the club, what they did, or how they even made the money that Pin handled.
After a moment of considering how in the dark I was when it came to this biker club, I just wrote a big question mark on the page.
My main priority was sorting out the Trey business and getting Olivia the proof she needed.
But I wasn’t going to ignore the Outlaw Souls. They might be a good mystery for a rainy day.
Pin
I woke up feeling groggy. It wasn’t a hangover. It wasn’t even that I hadn’t slept well. I got home from Blue Dog Saloon well before midnight, and it was just past eight when I got out of bed. If anything, I hadn’t slept so soundly in a long while.
It was something about the night. I had gone in expecting the usual: a few beers with my brothers, small talk about the club, maybe some light tension over whatever our rival club, Las Balas, were up to.
Instead, it had turned into one of the more dramatic nights I had ever lived through. Although, that wasn’t strictly true. I had endured plenty of more action-packed evenings (it came with the biker territory).
But for some reason, the evening before had felt monumental.
I tried to shake off my melodramatic musings as I hopped into a scalding shower. Nothing had actually happened. Yeah, it turned out Kim’s new boyfriend was a prick, and the cute blonde Moves dragged over being a freaking PI was an interesting plot twist, but none of that involved me.
But it involved Claire, I thought. And maybe she involves me.
I frowned and stared through the steam at the white tiles in my shower. No way. This was not a good path to go down. She wasn’t even interested. She had been pretending for her job. I was just a means to get closer to Kim.
I didn’t blame her for that. She clearly was a skilled PI, and I appreciated how she had been upfront with Kim in the end.
But she had still been using me.
Which meant every little smile, each wide-eyed question, every time we had made eye contact, that all meant nothing. Which was fine.
I reminded myself for the umpteenth time that I hadn’t been looking to pick up anyone the night before, and if I had, I certainly would not have chosen Claire. She was way too complicated for my tastes.
I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, drying myself down. I needed to stop talking myself in circles. I had other things to think about today. I was due to meet a few of the brothers to go over some numbers and discuss a few jobs we had in the works.
Things had been tense with the Las Balas. We had been staying out of their territory and they were avoiding us, but we all knew the fragile peace could never last. It was like the calm before a storm, when the very air seems to crackle with electric tension, sharp enough to sting.
It was all because Balas guys were the worst of the worst. Every negative stereotype about bikers was because of scum like Las Balas. Drugs, sex trafficking, kidnapping. They had their irons in all the worst fires.
I pulled on my clothes and started to throw everything I would need for the day into my backpack. It’s not like a club needed to deal with drugs or create prostitution rings to stay afloat. Outlaw Souls was proof of that. We had steady jobs, sometimes even more than we could handle, working security or doing surveillance.
Plus there was the auto shop a few of the older brothers owned and half the club worked at. Everyone in La Playa knew it was the shop to go to if you wanted quality work from mechanics who wouldn’t cheat you. At the end of the day, we probably had more profits than Las Balas. And a lot less blood on our hands.
Even so, there were always guys who wanted the easy way out. Who thought dipping a finger in the cocaine pot was the ticket to a better life. I had plenty of experience with guys like that before I even joined Outlaw Souls.
Half of the guys my mom dated when I was growing up were shady as hell. A few of them even got my mother involved which drove me crazy. Especially when I was a kid and couldn’t do anything about it.
And the ones that weren’t breaking the law were just plain lazy. They would sit around on our couch, watching TV and expecting my mom, who worked two jobs her whole life, to wait on them hand and foot.
I sighed and banished the unpleasant memories. Things weren’t like that anymore. As soon as I graduated from my accounting program, I’d started doing freelance CPA work. Between that and the club, I was able to get my mom her own apartment. I didn’t necessarily respect her choices, but I did love her.
I surveyed my clean apartment one last time before heading out. It wasn’t much, but it was mine and I had earned it the honest way.
I hopped on my bike and steered it towards the auto shop where the meeting was. After that, I needed to finish up some tax work for a company I was freelancing for.
I frowned beneath my helmet. As the colorful signs blurred by, I felt a twinge of guilt. I hadn’t visited my mom in a while. I knew I should try and find time to swing by for dinner, but it would just mean more irritating memories.
Whenever I visited my mom, I felt about fifteen again. Fifteen and frustrated with her and furious at her boyfriends.
Although when I was fifteen, I had handled it all wrong. I had gone out and done the stupidest thing I’ve ever done: I got a girlfriend.
Her name was Sara Garcia, and she made my teenage heart stop dead in its tracks. She had big brown eyes, always wore those little cut-off jean shorts that high school girls wore, and had the loudest laugh. I think it was her laugh that really made me fall for her. I was so miserable that I was desperate to be around some joy. I wanted just a fraction of Sara’s happiness.
And for a while, I had that happiness. I had all the arrogance of youth, walking down the hallways hand-in-hand with Sara and thinking I had it all figured out.
I cringe when I look back at how idiotic I was. I thought every date with Sara was the best date ever. When we went to the movies and I snuck my arm around her, it was the best evening of my life. Until a week later, when we made out for hours on her bed. We did it all together. We went to school dances and I watched her during her cheerleading practices. After a few months of dating, we took each other’s virginities.
I thought she was the one. My mom had made mistakes in love, but not me. I had found someone I could trust. Someone who would never hurt me.
Yeah. I was wrong.
It happened right after our six month anniversary, and yes, it killed me that I kept track of shit like that.
There was a big house party hosted by one of Sara’s friends one Friday. I had to work pretty late at my busboy job, but we agreed to meet at the party.
I
walked in around eleven, and the first person I ran into was this girl Sara knew. I didn’t even know her very well, but I could tell right away something was off. I asked her where Sara was, and if pity had an odor, that girl would have been reeking. I could see in her eyes, in the way she opened her mouth but didn’t speak, that wherever Sara was, it was not gonna make me feel good.
I wish I had just walked away, but instead, like the stubborn fool I was, I went looking for Sara. I found her in one of the bedrooms, buck naked with another guy.
For a second, I thought she was drunk and he had taken advantage. I was ready to beat the shit out of him for dragging my wasted girl to that bed.
But then Sara looked up. She was not drunk. She was clear-eyed and clearly enjoying it. When she saw me, she had the decency to stop and pull a bed sheet around her chest. The other guy made a quick exit, but took the time to toss me a little smirk and a “Sorry, man.”
Sara said what they always say. She just got carried away. She thought I was such a great guy, but things had happened so fast, and she wasn’t perfect.
And I just stood there with my heart breaking in two.
I wasn’t mad at her though. I was angry at myself. Because I should have known better. How many times had I seen my mom throw herself into a relationship with a guy who didn’t care enough to be loyal?
And I couldn’t be mad at Sara. She was just acting on human nature.
So I decided the next day that my heart wasn’t broken. Love was a hallucination. Love never lasted, and people were always going to act on their own self-interests. Which meant that something as fake as love wasn’t going to stop someone from cheating.
In a way, I was grateful for Sara. I should have learned earlier, but at least I learned. After that, things really did get better. I discovered bikes and the club and my career. I enjoyed plenty of women, but I steered clear from all the long-term nonsense.
And I never got hurt or humiliated again.
But somehow, being around my mom made me forget all that. It made me feel young and stupid again. She’d kept pestering me about why Sara and I broke up, so I ended up telling her what’d happened. My mother had actually patted me on the shoulder and told me that I couldn’t give up. The right girl was out there, I just had to keep trying.
I wanted to tell my mom that if trying to find Mr. Right was what she was doing, then I wanted no part of that. But I didn’t say that out loud. My mom had been through enough shit. Most of it of her own making, but I never could bring myself to say anything harsh to her.
I pulled up at the auto shop. I knew that a scowl was etched on my face, but it wasn’t my fault that I had woken up to annoying thoughts and memories.
It was Claire’s fault. Something about her adorable snub little nose made me think of relationships and how rotten most of them turned out to be. I needed to stop thinking about her nose being adorable.
Raul Lopez, our road captain, was loitering inside, but no one else was around.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“Ryder and Moves had to split,” Raul said. “Bit of trouble on the other side of town.”
I raised my brows.
“Las Balas shit,” Raul said. “What else?”
“They need back-up?” I asked, grimacing.
“Nah,” Raul said. “I think they just wanted to scare one of the guys who was dealing coke in our territory the other night. Nothing major.”
I nodded. It looked like the calm before the storm was starting to give way to drops of rain.
“I’m gonna split then,” I said. “Got some work to do.”
Raul waved goodbye, and I turned back towards my bike. Just before I hopped on, my phone buzzed. I yanked it out, thinking it might be from Moves or Ryder, but it was from Kim.
We’ve got a plan for Operation: End Trey.
I rolled my eyes at how dramatic Kim could be. I suppose she had the right since Trey was a liar and a cheat. I read the next text:
I’m meeting him for a date at Figo Wine Bar downtown on Thursday.
I want my girl Claire to have back-up, so you into play her fake date...
so she can blend in while she gets her evidence?
I stared into space for a moment. Seeing Claire again was a bad idea. Just one evening with her had tempted me to throw away all my rules about keeping myself to casual hook-ups.
Then again, Claire of all people understood that relationships were all shams. I could tell from the way she discussed Trey and other guys like him that she’d seen her fair share of cheating and betrayal. That meant maybe, just maybe, she understood how it was better to keep things casual.
Not that we would be hooking up. It was a fake date.
And Kim was right that back-up was necessary. A guy like Trey was not going to take kindly to being publicly humiliated by two women. Not to mention that I was pretty positive that Kim had some very public and very scathing words in store for him after Claire acquired proper evidence.
I was sure Kim and Claire could hold their own, but it wouldn’t hurt to have someone there to make Trey back off. To help everyone achieve a clean exit should things turn ugly.
My mind made up, I lifted my phone to text Kim:
I’m in.
Claire
I have always believed in punctuality. In my experience, most bad things only happened because of poor timing.
So when it came to running my cases, I was a stickler for doing whatever necessary to avoid bad timing. Which meant that I decided Pin and I needed to get to the restaurant a good half hour before Kim and Trey’s reservation. We needed to be settled in an ideal spot by the time the doomed couple entered.
I had also taken no chances with the seating. I called the hostess ahead to explain the situation. The hostess, herself a past victim of a cheat, had been on board. She promised me that I would have a corner table with a great view, while Trey and Kim would be seated smack dab in the center of the wine bar.
It would still be tricky to get my camera out to snap photos, but I had pulled off similar maneuvers. Besides, I would have Pin to help cover me.
Kim had suggested the fake date. I had laughed it off, but Kim had made some good points. I was way less likely to draw attention to myself if I was sitting with someone.
And Trey’s reaction was an unknown factor. I had agreed that Kim deserved to let him have it once I got my photos, so I couldn’t say no to an extra body to help us out. I have my pride and I had handled many dicey situations, but I wasn’t stupid. I accepted help when it was offered.
At six on Thursday, I ran through my plan one last time to make sure I had everything. I was supposed to meet Pin at half past the hour for our reservation. I hoped he was on time. Then again, I doubted punctuality was something bikers valued as much as I did.
I ducked into my bathroom to swipe a final coat of lip gloss on and admire my outfit. I had to give myself credit: my look walked the perfect line between Date Night and Kick a Cheater to the Curb.
It was a dark burgundy dress with thin straps and a v-neck that showed my cleavage to its best advantage. But it wasn’t flimsy. The bodice was fitted and the satin skirt flared out around my hips, falling to my knees which allowed for move-ability. I had opted for pointed gold shoes with only half-inch heels. I didn’t expect that I would need to run or move anywhere fast, but it was always good to err on the safe side. Just in case.
The truth was, tonight was just for the photos. With Kim’s help, I’d managed to build an airtight case against Trey. I had gathered text message screenshots, detailed schedules, and even a few emails. But the wife always wanted a picture. A high quality one too. Blurry photos didn’t quite do it.
I had explained to Kim that it would be best if she could be a little touchy with Trey. Maybe even get him to kiss her. Kim had agreed. She was a natural, to be honest. She’d been laser-focused on helping me get all the admin stuff in order so she could have a clear shot when she went in for the kill.
After sh
oving my notebook, camera, phone and pepper spray into my bag, I called a car. Fifteen minutes later, I was perched on a bench just outside the restaurant.
To my surprise, Pin hopped out of a cab at 6:25 on the dot. I almost didn’t recognize him. He had exchanged his leather jacket for a neat button-down with his hair arranged in a neat side part.
He cleaned up well, and was even more handsome away from the dim lights of a seedy bar.
I shook my head and greeted him with a smile. “Thanks for helping out.”
“No problem,” he said.
We stood in awkward silence for a beat. It wasn’t a date, but somehow my nerves were jangling a bit, as if it was.
I took a breath and turned to the door. “Let’s do this.”
The hostess was good on her word. She threw me a wink as she led Pin and me to a corner table. Pin took the seat with his back to the room so I could sit across from him. It was perfect. Pin’s broad shoulders would even conceal my camera. I made a mental note to slip the hostess a twenty before we left.
We ordered drinks – water for the both of us. I needed to keep a clear head and Pin evidently thought the same. I glanced at my watch. We still had thirty minutes. I opened my menu and glanced over the options.
“I’m honestly kinda nervous,” Pin said.
I looked up to see he was wearing a self-deprecating smile that really had no right to be quite so charming.
“I can’t believe you do this kind of stuff every weekend,” he said.
“Well, not every weekend,” I said with a coy shrug.
I ducked my head down to look at my menu. I told myself to stop flirting on the job, but then glanced at my watch again. We had so much time to kill, we might as well enjoy the wait. Besides, Pin wasn’t so bad to talk to. There was something about the way he looked at me with total focus. As if I was the only thing in the room worth observing.
“I actually have been getting bored with the cheating husband stuff,” I said. “It’s not exactly thrilling since these idiots are easy to catch.”
