by Beth Flynn
But in watching my twenty-three-year-old man threaten men twice his age with only a glance, I realized it wasn’t either option. Both man and beast instinctively knew not to mess with a grizzly bear cub if its mother was around. And that was the same type of energy Grizz and Christian exuded. The same type of natural panic that one might feel if up against a grizzly. I smiled at the ironic comparison.
We spent the next few hours listening to music, playing pool, drinking beer, and laughing with a few of Christian’s friends. Some of the men were wearing leather jackets and the patch was unmistakable—my father’s old club. The name and design were different, but I knew who they were based on Christian’s explanation.
The women weren't as friendly, but I knew to expect that after hearing some of my mother's old stories about when Grizz had taken her to the motel. I was sipping on my beer, listening to Christian and a bar regular comparing prison stories, when the woman I’d been casually chatting with leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Krystal is harmless. She's had her eye on Christian since before he went to prison. Even made a point of visiting him there."
"Am I being that obvious?" I stared back at the woman sitting next to me. She’d introduced herself as Chili, and I guessed she was in her late forties, maybe early fifties. The bright-red dyed hair that she kept piled on top of her head may have hidden the gray, but it couldn't erase the obvious lines on her face that came with hard living.
"Nah. But I recognize the looks you're trying not to give her."
I took another swig of beer and set it down with a sigh. "Yeah, just like I recognize the looks she’s trying not to give Christian."
Chili waved her hand nonchalantly, the bracelets jangling around her wrist. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. He couldn’t care less. Even before he went to prison, and for the short time he's been out, he's never brought a woman here or to any of his other hangouts. You're the first."
She leaned sideways toward me, close enough that our temples touched. "That tells me you'll be the only one." She smelled of cigarettes, beer, and sickly sweet perfume.
I pulled away and gave her a huge smile. Raising my beer, I said, "I'll drink to that." Our bottles clinked, and we both downed the rest of our brew in one long swallow. Chili signaled Krystal to bring another round, when Christian shouted toward the bar, "Krystal, two more."
I looked over at him, surprised that he'd been paying attention. "Chili's right, you know?" he said with a smile. "You're the only one. And you always will be."
Christian didn't even look at Krystal as she delivered our beers, deliberately trying to make small talk to get his attention. When he wouldn't acknowledge her, she bent down between us and whispered loud enough for me to hear, "I have a message for you."
He continued his conversation with the ex-con barfly as if he hadn't heard her. She jabbed at his right shoulder. She raised her voice this time, saying, "Christian, I have a message for you." There was a pause, and I was certain he was purposely ignoring her when she said a little louder, "From Blue."
This got my husband's attention and he finally turned around to her and snapped, "What is it?"
She slapped her tray against her hip and rolled her eyes before answering him. "I can't give it to you here. Meet me in the storeroom."
She walked away with a bounce in her step, and peeked back over her shoulder to see if Christian was following her. He stood up, bent over, and kissed the top of my head, saying, "I'll be right back, baby."
I watched as Krystal disappeared down the hallway that led to the restrooms, and wondered if there really was a message from Blue or if this was a ploy to get my husband alone. Or both. I was getting ready to excuse myself when Chili nudged me with her elbow. "Don't just sit here."
I hadn’t planned on it.
"Follow them," she said before returning her eyes to the hallway.
"You read my mind," I answered as I stood so quickly my chair almost fell over.
"Second door on the right past the ladies’ room," she said to my back as I strode toward the rear of the bar.
It was easy enough to find the door to the storage room. I stopped long enough to catch my breath, but not long enough to let myself think about what I would find on the other side. I only knew that I would either be beside Christian in our hotel room bed tonight or sitting next to a stranger on the first flight home. I slowly turned the door handle, and prayed there wouldn't be a noise to announce my intrusion. I was able to crack it just enough to go undetected and hear the conversation between Krystal and Christian.
I heard Krystal say, "There is no message, Christian. It was obvious you needed rescuing from that woman you brought here. I've missed you the past couple of weeks. I thought we'd be spending more time together after you got out of prison."
"You thought wrong, Krystal. And I'll never need rescuing from Mimi. She's my wife."
"Your wife?" Krystal was astonished. "You got married?"
"Yeah, I got married." Even though we'd never gotten around to asking Micah to officially file our paperwork, Christian and I still considered ourselves wed.
"Does your wife know I've blown you every time you've stepped foot in this bar?"
I heard him scoff before saying, “Mimi knows that I've been with other women. She also knows I won't be anymore."
"Just because you’re married doesn't mean we have to stop doing what we were doing," she cooed.
I heard her heels clicking against the aged floor and could only assume she was approaching my husband.
I held my breath as I waited for Christian's response. He didn't give one, and my heart sank at what was about to happen. Then I heard Krystal give a small cry, "You're hurting me, Christian. Let go of my wrists."
"Keep your fucking hands off me and I won't have to hurt them, Krystal."
"Fuck you!" she cried.
I'd heard enough. I quietly closed the door. Not knowing if I would be caught walking away, I ducked into the ladies’ room. I was splashing cold water on my face when the door behind me opened. I looked up and saw Krystal's reflection in the mirror. She was rubbing one of her wrists. She gave me a dirty look and said, "Your husband is an asshole."
Tossing the paper towel in the garbage, I swung the door open, and gave her a wide smile. "Consider yourself permanently relieved of blow job duty, Krystal." I tilted my head to one side. "At least where my husband is concerned."
I didn't give her time for a retort as I let the door close behind me. When I returned to the table, Christian stood up and pulled out my chair.
"I ran into your friend in the restroom," I said as I took my seat.
"She's not my friend," he answered.
"What was the message that was so important?" I batted my eyelashes innocently.
"There was no message, and I'll tell you about it later, Mimi."
After that, Krystal avoided our table. The rest of the evening passed without incident.
Later in our hotel room, I was sitting on the bed cross-legged when Christian asked, "What are you doing?"
He'd just come out of the bathroom after showering and drying off. At the moment, he was standing in front of me completely nude and stuffing a Q-tip in his ear.
I couldn’t help but laugh. Returning to the object of my attention, I said, "I'm looking at my ring. I still can't believe you picked it out."
He tossed the used cotton swab in the trash and crawled up the bed toward me, hovering over me until he had my back pressed against the pillow behind me.
"Believe it, Mimi," he said before giving me a long, lingering kiss. He made his way down my body, removing my clothes as he went.
Later, wrapped in his arms, I ran my fingers against his chest. I asked him to tell me about the conversation with Krystal.
And he did. He told me word for word everything that was said in the storeroom.
"I know," I confessed without looking at him. "I followed you. I was listening." I held my breath and waited for his reply.
"Good,"
was all he said before tilting my chin up. Our eyes locked and he said, "I'm glad you were listening, Mimi. At least you know I'm telling you the truth."
I asked why he would take me to a bar where I was bound to run into a woman he'd obviously been screwing around with. His answer made sense.
"Krystal is a whore and nothing more. I never thought twice about what it would look like to you. I’ve told you before, I've never had a girlfriend, let alone a wife. I'm sorry if it made you feel bad."
I waved him off and told him I had no problem handling Krystal. But something else occurred to me. "You also said that you had to stay away from the motorcycle club as a condition of your parole. I saw men in there that I know are from that gang. They wore patches." I leaned up on my elbow and looked down at him.
"I was having a beer with my wife and some friends. Some of the men you met tonight are mechanics at Axel's garage and have nothing to do with the club. I can't say who is going to be at what bar or if they have any gang affiliation. I wouldn't be in violation unless I was caught at an official meeting or a crime scene with them."
He picked up my hand and kissed it. "I won't deliberately risk screwing this up, Mimi. I've waited too long to be with you."
I must've had a worried expression on my face because he added, "It's why I purposely chose The Alibi, and didn't even think about Krystal."
"Because it's not a known hangout?" I asked.
"No," he corrected. "It's because it lives up to its name."
I didn't understand, so he went on to explain that the owner of The Alibi was an ex-biker named Ken who'd served time in prison, and had no intention of ever going back. He established the bar as a neutral zone for people like Christian who were out and had conditions to their parole. “The police can raid The Alibi any time they want. They might find ex-cons or people who regularly engage in criminal activity, but they won't find anything illegal going on there. No prostitution, no drugs, no gambling, and specifically, no cameras."
"What's so important about no cameras?" I asked with a suspicious tone.
He laughed. "It's kind of how the bar originally got its name. Back when Ken first opened it, people that were committing crimes started saying they had an alibi if they were caught. All they had to do was tell the police they were at Ken's bar, and he always verified it for them, whether it was true or not. Ken proved his loyalty to his biker buddies without participating in any way. They're very serious about protecting him so they help enforce the ‘no illegal activity’ rule. Without surveillance cameras, the police don't have a way to dispute someone's alibi."
"I saw two men fighting in the parking lot when we were leaving," I informed him.
"There will always be bar fights. Two guys even died there. But it was their own doing, and not tied to anything illegal. I won't take you back there if it makes you feel uncomfortable.”
"I didn't feel uncomfortable." If anything, I felt a little too comfortable, and my brain was trying to process why. I wondered if it was because I was with Christian. Or something else.
Christian mistook my silence as I mulled things over for something else.
"I'll have Krystal fired," he told me.
"No!" I shouted. In a calmer voice, I told him, "I don't want the girl to lose her job because of me. I'm not threatened at all by her, Christian, and if I was, I'd handle her on my own."
My answer seemed to satisfy him. I reached over and turned off the light. I was exhausted and on the brink of sleep when he said, "I forgot to tell you that Chili thought you looked familiar."
"What?" I popped up. The room was dark and I couldn't see his face.
"Yeah," he commented. "She said you looked familiar, but she couldn't place you. I think she was around during the old days when Grizz had that motel out on State Road 84. I'm pretty sure if they hadn't changed up the club patch with your mother's likeness on the jackets, she'd have guessed who you were."
"What jacket with my mother's likeness?" I asked.
"Axel has an old one in his garage. I'll show you when I take the bike back and get my truck."
Chapter 45
Fort Lauderdale, Florida 2007
I stared, slack-jawed as Christian held up the old biker jacket he'd retrieved from the bottom drawer of a metal filing cabinet. It was Sunday morning, and after breaking back in to return his motorcycle to the garage, I followed him into the office.
I held my hand over my mouth, stunned at the image staring back at me. I had no doubt I was looking at a reflection of my mother that was at least thirty years old. Below the club name was a skull with horns, wearing a sinister smile. A naked woman, who I knew to be my mother, was draped seductively across the top of the skull, its horns hiding her private areas. The woman had brown hair, big dark eyes, and was wearing a choker with a peace sign.
"She still has that peace choker." My voice was barely a whisper.
"If you had bangs, you'd be a dead ringer. I can't believe you've never seen one of these."
He folded it and returned it to the drawer.
"I can't believe it either," I confessed. "And believe me when I tell you I did some snooping when I was younger. Then again, Bill has done a great job burying Grizz's past, and it's not like either father kept one hanging in the closet."
I would later find out from my mom that my brother Jason had seen the jacket years ago, but had never mentioned it. Still reeling at the discovery of the image that used to terrorize South Florida so many years ago, I wasn't sure what bothered me more. That my sweet and loving mother's likeness had been the living illustration for brutality, or that it didn't bother me as much as it should have.
I silently wrestled with that thought as I followed Christian out the back door and asked him, "Does Axel know how vulnerable his garage is? Maybe your motorcycle is safer parked on the street than in a garage that can be so easily broken in to."
"Nobody messes with Axel's garage. They know better," Christian told me as he opened the truck door and watched me climb in.
Before we'd left our hotel room and exchanged the bike back for his truck, Christian and I had a long phone conversation with his parents, and decided to give a family gathering another try.
We arrived at their house shortly after leaving the garage. and I noticed a motorcycle parked in their driveway. When we got inside I was introduced to Jonas and Lucy Brooks. They seemed like a lovely couple, but as mismatched as a sumo wrestler and a kitten. She was a tall, thin woman with extremely pale skin, and straight brown hair that brushed the top of her shoulders. Her thick glasses couldn't hide the intelligence that shone in her eyes. She barely uttered two words when we were introduced. He was the exact opposite. Huge and boisterous, Jonas Brooks grabbed me and hugged me like he'd known me all my life. He told me that he didn't go by Jonas, and that I should call him Brooks. He reminded me of a Sasquatch. He was gigantic, and had a thick head of brown unruly hair and a beard down the front of his chest. He had some facial tattoos that could best be described as alarming.
"Lucy and Jonas live in Naples and were over here visiting their son, Isaac," Aunt Christy explained. "He moved here a couple of years ago. He's just a little older than Christian." She nodded at Christian and turned to address Lucy. "You need to call Isaac and invite him over here."
"Oh no, Christy," Lucy softly said. "We're not staying. We just dropped in to say a quick hello. Besides, you have good news to celebrate." She nodded toward my left hand, then looked up and gave me a sweet smile. "It's a family affair."
"All of you are family," Aunt Christy said, taking both of Lucy's hands and squeezing tightly.
After a few more minutes of gentle prodding, and Aunt Christy getting nowhere, we waved goodbye as Jonas and Lucy climbed on their Harley and sped off, the loud pipes reverberating off the asphalt.
"They seem like a lovely couple," I commented as I followed Christian and his parents back into their home. "I guess they're bikers?"
"Oh yeah," Aunt Christy laughed as she signaled me to
follow her into the kitchen. "And you'd never guess it, right? She's a distinguished scientist with the CDC."
"Really?" I couldn't hide my surprise.
"She cures diseases for a living, and he owns a bait shop. Isaac is good friends with Christian. I guess you haven’t had a chance to meet him yet?”
Shaking my head I told her, "No. Pretty sure I haven't met someone named Isaac." I cocked my head to the side and said, "For such an odd couple, they sure seem happy."
Aunt Christy reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a bowl. Setting it on the counter, she said, "They are, but they got off to a rocky start."
"How so?"
"It's a long story, and as you can probably imagine, she resisted him at first." She paused and blew out a breath while pouring ingredients into the bowl. "Jonas used to ride with Anthony's crew. He was with us one time when I ran into Lucy at a restaurant." She shot me a quick glance and said, "I went to high school with her and her twin brother, Lenny. I hadn't known then that Jonas already knew Lucy, but she didn't remember him." She swiped her arm across her forehead before continuing. "Apparently she'd made an impression on him. He did what Christian did to you. Abducted her. He tricked Lucy and took her to a cabin in the Everglades. No plumbing and no electricity." Aunt Christy shuddered. "For weeks. It might've even been a month."
"Oh no!" I interrupted. "Did he? Did he?" I couldn't find my voice.
"Rape her? Torture her?" she asked.
I could only nod.
She gave me a long, slow smile. "No. He didn't do either of those things."
My eyes widened as I waited in anticipation to hear what Jonas Brooks could have possibly done to that sweet, mild-mannered woman.
"He kept her only long enough for her to teach him how to read."
I could've been knocked over with a feather.
Aunt Christy didn't elaborate further so I began to share the details about Christian's secret visit to the jeweler yesterday morning. A few moments later we heard voices coming from the great room.
