by Penny Dee
Craig had been on a spending spree. Electronics. A sound system.
A Pontiac in the driveway.
Craig didn’t have a job. Didn’t have an income. So what bullshit scam was he involved in that he could afford all of this stuff? I thought about asking him. But in all honesty I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want him dragging me into whatever redneck bullshit he was a part of.
Instead, I walked upstairs and found Missy in her room.
“Hey,” I said, flopping down on the bed. “Am I seeing things or has Craig been on a crazy spending spree?”
When she didn’t answer, I became aware of the tension in the room. She was folding laundry from the basket and putting it away, doing everything she could not to look at me.
I sat up. “Is everything okay?”
“Why do you give him a hard time? You know he’s a bit slow. You don’t need to be such a bitch to him.”
Whoa.
“Okay…” I said, confused. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. But you must admit, it’s a bit suspicious that he’s got all this new stuff. How did he pay for it? He doesn’t even have a job.”
“Oh, so now that you’ve got a job you’re suddenly better than him. Is that it?”
I was taken back. “No, that’s not what I was—”
“Why don’t you cut him some slack, Cassidy. What has he ever done to you?”
I thought about him jerking off with my underwear.
But I didn’t mention it.
“You must admit, it’s a bit curious…” I let the sentence trail off because Missy seemed really agitated and I didn’t want to add to it. “Hey—I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“It’s fine,” she replied stiffly, pulling out a T-shirt from the laundry basket. She started folding it, and either it had pissed her off and she was taking out her anger on it or she was pissed at me about something.
I climbed off the bed. “Are you sure you’re okay because I’m picking up some pretty negative vibes. Has something upset you? Have I?”
She threw the half-folded T-shirt back into the basket and rounded on me with mean eyes. “Admit it, you can’t stand that I’ve found someone. That a man wants to be with me.”
Her accusation came so far out from left field it gave me whiplash as she hurled it at me.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, confused.
“You hate that I’m having a baby with Johnny.”
“I don’t hate—”
“You don’t think I should be with him.”
“Because he’s married!”
“See! You look down your nose at me like you’re better than me.”
“That’s not true.” I didn’t want to fight with her, so I tried to defuse the situation. “Listen, Missy, I don’t know why you’re so angry at me—”
“You need to go.”
I looked at her, dumbfounded, unsure if I’d heard her correctly. “What?”
She picked up the T-shirt again and began to fold it hastily. “I don’t think you should live here anymore.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “Why?”
“I’m settled here. I don’t want to leave.”
“I thought you wanted me to help you with the baby—”
“I don’t need your help. Johnny is going to take care of me and the baby.”
It suddenly occurred to me that she hadn’t looked me in the eye since I’d asked her why she was throwing me out. And now that I realized it, it became obvious. She was having trouble looking at me because she was lying.
I climbed off the bed. “Fine, I’ll leave but not before you tell me why.”
“I just told you.”
“I mean the truth.”
“I don’t need to do anything.” Still no eye contact. “Because this is my house and I’m telling you to leave.”
I couldn’t believe what she was saying. Tears welled in my eyes and the hurt pounded through me with such force that I felt breathless. I didn’t understand what was happening or why she was doing this. We’d been through a lot together, hard times, poor times, rough times, and now she was throwing me out? I struggled to swallow my hurt.
“Fine, I’ll move out tomorrow.”
Finally, she made eye contact. “I want you gone tonight.”
“Where will I go?”
She turned back to folding her washing. “That’s the thing, Cassidy, I don’t care.”
CHANCE
We were just leaving the cigar shop on Main when I saw her. She was walking down the street.
No, not walking.
Stomping.
She was stomping down the street carrying what looked like all of her worldly possessions. One canvas bag, a guitar case, and a world of trouble on her shoulders.
And just like that, a new war took up inside of me.
Leave her to deal with whatever it was that lead her onto the street at dusk with all of her belongings.
Or help her.
Hate told me to walk away.
Just kick the Harley into gear and hammer down in the other direction.
I’d already let her go the other night. And even though I’d thought about her constantly in the time since then, she was out of my life.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I looked at Caleb and the others. “You go. I’ll catch up with you at the clubhouse later.”
They glanced over at Cassidy then nodded and roared off down the street. The noise caught her attention, and she looked up. The moment our eyes met, I knew I was going to help her. Call it a sixth sense, but I just knew I wasn’t done with this girl yet.
I kicked the Harley into gear and rode over to where she was standing on the curb.
“I thought you would’ve left town by now,” I said.
“I’m on my way,” she said, clutching her bag of clothes in her hands. But instead of looking happy about it, she looked sad.
Pissed.
Yep. Something wasn’t right.
“Where’s your friend? The one you’re traveling with?”
If she looked sad before, now she looked completely devastated. But it was only a flicker before it was gone and quickly hidden behind a bright, phony smile.
“I’m flying solo this time. She’s staying here.”
The way she said it, I knew there was more to the story.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
She huffed out a breath and looked away, tears glimmering in her lovely eyes. She bit down on her bottom lip to calm her quivering chin, and I couldn’t hold back the lascivious thoughts that flickered across my sex-starved brain.
“Cassidy?”
“She threw me out,” she snapped suddenly, the emotion fierce on her delicate features.
“Your friend?”
“My supposed best friend,” she said angrily.
She gave me a very brief explanation about her roommate suffering from baby brain and how she threw her out because Cassidy disapproved of the affair she was having with her married boss.
Her friend sounded like a real piece of work.
“So you’re leaving town tonight?” I asked.
She shook her head and held up a crumpled bus timetable. “The last bus left at four-forty-five. I’m going to sleep at the bus station tonight and get on the next bus out of town in the morning.”
Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.
The bus station wasn’t a safe place for sleeping. It was unpatrolled with a lot of people coming and going. Once it closed down for the evening, it wasn’t the place for a young woman to spend the night alone.
“Come on, I can’t leave you out here,” I said, revving the Harley. It came to life with a bark and a rumble, the sound echoing down the street. “You can’t stay at the bus station.”
“I’ve stayed in worse places.”
I gave her a pointed look. “It’s not safe. In the daylight it might seem harmless, but at n
ight the desperate and the tweakers spill out of the shadows. Come on, I’ll find you a safe place to sleep tonight.”
“I’m not staying with you,” she said, taking a step away from me.
I raised an eyebrow. “Good, because I wasn’t asking you. I’ll take you where no one will bother you. Now will you climb on the back and let me help you.”
Reluctantly, she slid behind me, her bag of clothes resting between us and her guitar strapped to her back. With a pull on the throttle, the Harley roared to life, and we took off into the dying light.
Ten minutes later, we arrived at the Black Cherry Inn, a little motel just outside of town. Cassidy slid off the back and looked across the parking lot at the small motel with the bright neon cherry flashing on the roof.
“I can’t afford this,” she said, alarmed.
“Again, good. Because you’re not paying.”
“You’re paying for me to sleep here tonight?” Her surprise turned to suspicion. “Just because I kissed you the other night doesn’t mean I want to sleep with you.”
I raised an eyebrow at the suggestion.
“Do you always make it this hard for people to help you?”
“Only when they want me to fuck them in return for their help.”
I climbed off the bike and walked over to her. Leaning in close, I whispered, “I don’t want you to fuck me.”
I walked off and made my way across the gravel parking lot toward the manager’s office while she stayed put, watching me, probably weighing her options and whether or not she could trust me. Finally, she sighed, and I heard the sound of her boots on the gravel as she chased after me. Before I got to the door she grabbed my arm.
“You really don’t expect anything in return?”
Jesus, what was this chick’s deal?
“Not a damn thing.” I turned away and opened the glass door leading into the office.
I paid with cash and put the room under my name. Cassidy said nothing, but I could feel her eyes on me as she watched me sign for the key. I couldn’t figure her out. One minute she was trying to kiss me and the next she was acting as if I was some kind of skeeze. Talk about mixed messages. All I wanted was to do the right fucking thing here, and that was making sure she wasn’t left to sleep on the goddamn street.
When we stepped outside, she looked at me suspiciously.
“If you don’t expect me to sleep with you, then what do you want?” she asked, when I handed her the key.
Jesus Christ … this again.
I lit a cigarette and let it hang off my lip.
“That’s the thing, sweetheart. I don’t want anything.” I shoved my wallet into my pocket and walked back to my bike, climbing on. “Room’s paid up ’til eleven. See you around, California.”
I was walking away. I didn’t need this shit.
If she didn’t want my help, I wasn’t going to fucking force it on her.
I’d done what I’d set out to do. She had a roof over her head for the night. What she did after that was up to her.
I got as far as putting on my helmet when she called out to me.
“At least let me buy you breakfast in the morning. You know, to say thank you.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “You can’t afford to buy me breakfast.”
She smiled. And fuck me if I didn’t feel that smile right along the length of my cock.
“Three hundred dollars says I can.” She smiled and held up her cash.
I scowled at her. Telling the whole world you had cash was a good invitation for getting mugged. Sometimes I wondered how this angel survived traveling across the country without getting rolled.
“I’ll pick you up at 10:45.” I flicked my wrist and my Harley roared to life. “And, California—”
She looked up from putting the key in the door. “Yeah?”
“Lock the fucking door behind you.”
And with that, I rode off into the late afternoon.
CASSIDY
The door clicked and my eyes flicked open. At this hour, I knew that sound meant trouble. The house was still and quiet, but my heartbeat roared in my ears. He was coming for me.
He said nothing when he reached me. Even when I began to struggle against him, he said nothing.
I shook my head from side to side, but he clamped his hand down over my mouth. Experience told me to lie still. Because he got off on the struggle. But it was my instinct to fight—and fight him I did, even when he overpowered me, even when he ripped my panties and took me, I continued to struggle.
By the time he was finished with me, I was face down on the bed and naked below the waist.
My body ached but it was nothing like the pain in my soul.
I woke up with a start, my skin cold but my hair damp with sweat.
My eyes darted around the dark, unfamiliar room as I struggled to catch my breath, the fog of sleep slowly lifting.
As my dream receded, my breathing evened out and my heart began to slow.
I was safe.
He didn’t know where I was.
There was no way for him to know.
I had been careful.
One day it wouldn’t have to be this way.
One day I would be truly free of him forever.
I didn’t know how.
I could only have hope.
It was the only thing that kept me going.
The alarm woke me five hours later. Reluctantly, I climbed out of bed and took a long shower. Standing under the spray of warm water, my muscles softened, and I began to feel relieved about leaving Missy’s mom’s house. Here in this little motel room I was free from Craig’s leering and the possibility of him walking in on me at any given point.
I was also free from Missy’s craziness.
Her selfishness.
Her impulsiveness.
But I felt sad. She was my only friend. And despite her unpredictable, and often self-centered behavior, I couldn’t understand why she turned on me like she did. She told me it was because I wasn’t supportive of her involvement with Johnny, but I couldn’t help but feel like there was more to the story.
Now I was alone.
Truly alone.
Except for the kindness of one lone biker.
My cheeks heated when I thought of the kiss and how he’d pulled away.
I had only asked him to breakfast to say thank you for his kindness. The guy had done me a solid by giving me a roof over my head for the night. Not to mention a paid gig at his clubhouse. It was the least I could do. Even if the memory of our non-kiss made my spine tingle with embarrassment.
I dressed quickly in my favorite boho dress and boots, shoving my arms into a denim jacket. I threw my bag on the bed and started repacking it but paused when I realized my entire life was in front of me. Everything I owned in the whole world, apart from my guitar, fit into a canvas backpack. It was kind of pathetic, really, but it was the way it had to be. For now, anyway. I couldn’t afford for anything to slow me down.
My eyes shifted to the silver gun sitting next to my pair of Converse high tops. I picked it up and stared at it in my hand. When we were in Texas I took a firearm course and spent hours honing my skills at the firing range. Now I was good at three things. Singing. Running. And shooting a fucking gun.
When you were running from what I was running from, you needed some kind of protection in case you got caught.
Could I use it if I had to?
Absofuckinglutely I could.
I shoved it into my handbag and continued repacking my backpack.
When I heard the rumble of an approaching Harley I went to the window and watched through the parted curtain as Chance pulled up front.
A knot tightened in my stomach.
Sliding off his bike, he looked like all kinds of sin as he approached the porch. Dark glasses. Broad shoulders. Just the right amount of scruff on a sexy as fuck jawline. I quickly let the curtain fall back into place and ignored the pulsating between my thighs as I answered his knock on t
he door.
“Didn’t get mugged for your three hundred dollars?” he asked with a smile that totally disarmed me.
“Someone very wise told me to lock my door.” I raised my hands up in wonder. “Whataya know? It worked. I’m still rich.”
He gave me a big smile, and again I wasn’t prepared for the impact it had on me.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Have you picked out a place for breakfast?” I asked, closing the door behind me.
“Yep. And it’s super expensive. So it’s good you’ve got money, honey.”
I slid on the back of his bike and wrapped my arms around him.
He was big. The kind of big that made you feel safe. And for a moment I let myself enjoy the warmth of his body and the hardness of the muscle I felt beneath my arms as we rode into town in the morning sunshine. My heart felt light, and despite the craziness of the last couple of days, I could feel that comforting flicker of hope warming my heart. I rested my cheek against his leather vest, and for the first time in a long time allowed myself to feel content.
To breathe.
But that all came crashing down when we rode past a shiny pickup truck, and I saw Missy at the wheel.
Missy didn’t own a pickup truck. And she certainly didn’t have the money to buy one either.
Something wasn’t right.
I tried to reason with myself. Maybe it was Johnny’s. Maybe he’d loaned it to her.
But something nagged at me.
Yesterday, Craig had bought a car.
Now Missy was driving a new pickup.
Things weren’t adding up.
Had Craig gotten her involved in something illegal?
Again, I tried to reason with myself. It wasn’t my problem anymore. Missy had shoved me out of her life with a big fuck you. I would probably never know why, and maybe it was better that way.
But at the end of the day she had been my friend, and I didn’t want her getting into any trouble because of her loser brother.
And this reeked of Craig.
Chance pulled up outside a diner called Perky’s, a coffee shop with shiny red booths and black-and-white checkered linoleum on the floor. We sat by the window overlooking the street and accepted menus from a waitress called Viola, who devoured Chance with her eyes. I was getting used to it. The Kings were a big deal in this town. Rock stars of the county. I got it.
