Savage Spades

by K. D Clark

  She slid the first stack of paperwork towards her. Invoices. Some paid; some overdue. The bills never stopped, and sadly, there wasn’t enough coming in to take care of them all. She pulled out the five, unpaid invoices from the pile and organized them by priority. Grabbing the checkbook off the desk, she wrote a check for the electric bill, her liquor distributor, and the plumber who fixed the backed-up toilet a couple of weeks ago.

  The other two would have to wait until she had more money. She didn’t even want to think about the debt that she owed beyond these small invoices. Notably, the most significant debt that her dad left to her. The money should have never been borrowed in the first place. It sent chills down her spine and made her palms sweaty just from thinking about it. Taking a deep breath, she ran her hands over her face, trying to clear her mind. Focus on one thing at a time. Her priority was always to make sure Amire and Jen got paid on time. Even though most bartenders worked solely off tips, she paid Jen an hourly, living wage to make up for the lack of tipping customers. And since she and Jen lived together, it would be an awkward conversation if Jen didn’t make enough to pay her half of the bills.

  Setting the two, unpaid invoices to the side, she grabbed the next pile of paperwork.

  Twenty minutes later, the sound of the front door shutting brought her attention back to the bar. She walked out of the office just as Jen walked around the counter with a cup carrier filled with big, styrofoam cups.

  “You are a lifesaver,” Cam said as Jen set the cup holder down on the bar. Cam took one of the cups and stuck a straw inside. She loved the way the bubbles from the soda gave that slight burn to the back of her throat. Drinking so much soda was probably the reason her jeans were starting to get tight again, but she didn’t care about her weight anymore. She accepted the fact that her body was made different from someone like Jen. Whereas she and Jen could eat the same thing, Cam would always have a more curvy shape. Plus, she’d given up on diets a long time ago. She realized her brain power could be used in better ways other than worrying about a little extra fat.

  “No problem, I figured we might need some caffeine,” Jen said.

  They had soda at the bar, but the gas station down the street must have done something special because it tasted so much better. Of course, she’d never tell her customers that.

  “Amire! I brought soda!” Jen yelled. She was a small person but had the voice of an opera singer.

  “I can hear you, Jen, you don’t have to yell,” he complained from the kitchen that was straight to the left of the bar.

  Jen winked at her and went to give the soda to Amire. Cam leaned against the counter and sipped on her drink. They had thirty minutes until the bar opened, and she prayed it would be a busy night.

  Chapter Three

  Cam

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  “Turn it off!” Jen yelled from the other room.

  Cam had been listening to the alarm for a while but was too tired to turn it off. With a sigh, she cracked open one eye and grabbed the phone off the bedside table before swiping to turn it off.

  The summer heat clung to her skin like a pair of tight jeans. The only thing keeping her mildly cool was the box fan she had set up in the corner. The air conditioner had gone out two weeks ago, and the landlord had yet to fix it.

  She laid on her back and rubbed a hand over her face. She needed to get ready to meet with her advisor on campus. As soon as she’d moved to Goldbeach, she’d applied to go to the local community college to study graphic design. Today, she needed to register for her classes before all the good ones were taken.

  She could only take classes during the day so that she could run the bar at night, but she couldn’t take them too early or else she’d never get any sleep. She counted to three and then sat up. Less than fifteen minutes to get her ass dressed and down to the college.

  She shouldn’t have drunk so much last night, but Jen was a bad influence. Plus, there were only a couple more weeks until she’d be too busy to have any fun. Her head spun a bit as she crossed the room and went into the small, shared bathroom located in the hallway between the bedrooms. They lived in a small house, which meant there was very little privacy. Hence, why Jen could hear Cam’s alarm from her bedroom. It was even worse when Jen brought a guy home. On those nights, Cam had to plug in her earbuds and turn up the volume to drown out the sound of Jen’s moans.

  She stripped off her clothes and turned the shower on. It took a minute for the water to make its way through the pipes to the shower head. It took even longer for the water to heat up enough for her to get in. She washed away the smell of sweat and alcohol with her strawberry-scented body wash before brushing her teeth in the shower to save on time.

  Once she stepped out of the shower, she wrapped a white towel around her body before running a brush through her wet hair and throwing it up in a bun. In her bedroom, she changed into a white, spaghetti strap top and a pair of jean shorts before slipping her feet into her pink flip-flops. The time on her phone told her she still had ten minutes left before she had to get out the door. Just enough time to make some coffee.

  Feeling more awake than she had moments ago, she walked to the kitchen. Jen was scheduled to open the bar today, so that gave Cam some free time after she got done signing up for classes. That meant she could run to the store and pick up some stuff they needed for the house. She’d also been needing to do her laundry since she was running very low on clothes. If she didn’t do laundry today, she’d be wearing swimsuit bottoms as underwear tomorrow. She filled the coffee maker with the coffee grounds and water and leaned against the counter, waiting for it to brew. Even when she had ‘free’ time, she spent it catching up on all the things she’d been putting off. She wished that time would slow down so she could catch her breath.

  Jen walked in, dressed in a pair of pajama pants and a tank top. Her bright, red hair was tousled and wild.

  “Hey, sunshine,” Cam greeted, plastering a smile on her face to hopefully make up for the fact that her alarm woke Jen up.

  “Someone’s peachy this morning.”

  Cam shrugged. “I will be once I get some coffee in me.”

  Jen pulled out one of the falling-apart wooden chairs from the table and plopped down.

  “What are your plans?” she asked Jen before grabbing a to-go coffee mug from the cabinet and started to fill it up.

  “Get my shit back from Jason,” Jen said.

  “He still hasn’t dropped it off?”

  Jen was a serial dater. She didn’t usually keep a boyfriend for longer than a couple of months.

  Jen let out an annoyed breath. “No, I’m sure he wants me to come over so he can try to apologize for cheating on me.”

  Cam placed the lid on her coffee cup. “What a tool.”

  “Aren’t they all?” Jen asked, and her eyes held a sadness behind them as she looked at Cam.

  Cam felt terrible for Jen. She wore her heart on her sleeve and fell in love fast, usually with the wrong type of guy. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Jen gave her a sad smile. “Another one bites the dust.”

  Cam threw her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight? Don’t forget you’re opening.”

  “Yep, see you tonight,” Jen said as Cam left and got into her pick up truck.

  The big, blue truck was old, and she had to jump to get in, but her father left it to her, and she didn’t have the money to buy anything else. After a while, she’d gotten used to Big Blue. It never gave her any trouble despite how old it was. She made a mental note to get an oil change. It had to be past due.

  The drive to the local college was short. She could walk if she had to. If she didn’t have Big Blue, that would be her only option since there wasn’t any public transportation in Goldbeach. There weren’t any bus stops until you got closer to the Charlotte. It was completely different from Seattle where everything was convenient. Small things like that made her miss living in a big city, but there was nothing for her in Se
attle anymore. She parked in a spot up front and got to her advisor’s office just in time.

  “Ms. Hamilton, it’s nice to see you,” Mr. Jones said as Cam sat down in the chair across from him.

  “Nice to see you too,” she said.

  He looked more like an athletic coach than he did an academic advisor with short, military-cut hair and broad shoulders. His graying hair and pictures of his teenage children around the office gave away his age, but if she had to guess, he probably played football in college. She’d gotten to know Mr. Jones well over the last couple semesters. He was also the Digital Photography professor. The college was so small, all the advisors were also professors.

  He stared at the computer screen, not saying anything as he clicked his mouse. After a moment, he looked up at her.

  “Alright, it looks like you have a while to go before your degree is finished. I see that you didn’t pass Algebra last semester. Do you want to try that one again?” he asked.

  “Can I take it in the spring?” She’d failed once she didn’t want to fail twice in a row.

  “Yes, that’s fine. What were you thinking for this semester? Are you going full- or part-time?”

  Full-time would get her through school faster. She didn’t want to be in school until she was fifty, but with running the bar, a full course load wasn’t an option.

  “Part-time,” she said to Mr. Jones.

  He gave her a look that was a mix of pity and disappointment. She couldn’t blame him. Mr. Jones had been rooting for her since the first day she’d enrolled. He’d seen her struggle to keep up with her courses last semester and skipped classes because she was too tired from staying at the bar the night before. This semester was going to be different. She had to focus on school. She didn’t know what the rest of life had in store for her, but she needed this degree as a backup plan.

  “There are a couple of visual arts classes you need to take and a history class. Does that work for you? Three classes?” he asked, looking up from the computer.

  “What time?”

  “One is at nine a.m.; the other two start at eleven a.m., twice a week.”

  Nine o’clock was early, but she could swing it. She just had to make sure she was out of the bar early the night before.

  “I can do it.”

  “Okay, I’ll get your schedule together and send it over.”

  “Great,” she said, getting ready to leave the office.

  “Hey, Cameron,” he said, stopping her in her tracks.

  She slid back down in the chair.

  Mr. Jones readjusted his tie. “I know last semester was really hard for you, and the college has tons of resources if you need help…but because of your grades, you have been put on academic probation.”

  “What?!” When had this happened? Why didn’t anyone tell her?

  “You should have gotten a letter sent to your home over the summer.”

  There was a massive pile of mail sitting on her coffee table at home that she’d barely glanced at.

  “What does this mean?”

  “It’s temporary. If you can get your GPA up this semester, you’ll be taken off probation. If not, you could be dismissed.”

  She ran a hand through her hair. “Great.”

  This was precisely what she needed: more pressure. In addition to worrying about the bar losing money, she had to worry about possibly getting kicked out of school.

  “I know this can be stressful, but we have a lot of tutors--”

  “Thank you, Mr. Jones,” she said before getting out of the chair and leaving the building. She barely had time to go to school, let alone take advantage of the college’s tutoring services. She got into her truck and leaned her head against the hot steering wheel. Life just kept getting better.

  *****

  The minute the bar came into view, her mouth dropped open. The parking lot was filled with black motorcycles. Usually, she’d be happy for a busy night filled with paying customers, but with the day she had, she’d been looking forward to a quiet night. Since there wasn’t anywhere to park in the small lot, she found a spot in front of Ms. Rogers’ bookstore. Local, small businesses surrounded the street her bar was on. The strip was usually deserted by 6 p.m. The only places that stayed open late was her bar and Helen’s Diner.

  The sound of rock music cut through the warm air and filled the cab of her truck. That was unusual. Their regulars liked to watch the game, and most of them could care less about the restored jukebox. She turned off the truck, not bothering to lock the doors before walking across the street. She’d chosen to wear cut-off shorts because it was so hot, but she regretted it now as her thighs rubbed together. The music was so loud she couldn’t hear the door creak as she opened it.

  She didn’t see Ernie sitting on his usual barstool; in his place was a large man the size of a football player. Leather material spread across the man’s broad back with the words ‘Savage Spades’ written in bright orange letters above a picture of a spades card. Looking around the room, she realized everyone in her bar had the same, sleeveless leather jacket on. Most of the men had long beards. Some looked old enough to be her grandfather, while others looked like they were barely out of high school. An older man with a graying beard laughed and sloshed beer onto the table as he slammed the mug down. Some of the men were nursing their drinks while they casually talked. The loud music wasn’t doing much to help her headache that had started not long after leaving Mr. Jone’s office.

  Taking a deep breath, she maneuvered around the full tables to the bar where Jen was laying out glasses. Some of her red hair stuck to her face with sweat.

  “What’s going on?” Cam asked.

  Jen looked up, as if realizing for the first time that Cam had walked through the door.

  “I don’t know. They came in a couple of hours ago, all on their motorcycles. Most of the regulars left, but they’re ordering a lot and tipping, so I’m happy.”

  Jen grabbed the ice scoop out of the bucket and filled the glasses before adding a shot of whiskey to each one.

  “Can I get another beer?” a guy asked from the end of the bar. His beard was so long it touched his t-shirt. His eyes were slightly glazed over from the alcohol.

  “I’ll grab these,” Cam told Jen as she grabbed the glasses of whiskey, balancing two of them in one hand.

  “It’s the three men in the corner booth,” Jen said.

  Cam focused on the glasses, making sure not to tip them over as she walked across the floor. She looked up once she was close to the booth; two of the men were inside the rounded booth while the other had pulled up one of the wooden chairs. They were deep in conversation when she walked up.

  “Okay, I got three--”

  The man in the chair scooted back, slamming into her stomach. The glasses in her hand smashed into her chest before falling on the ground and shattering. She froze in shock as the cold liquor seeped through her white top, making her bra visible to everyone.

  “Ah, shit--”

  “Save it,” she said through clenched teeth.

  She finally looked up at the man responsible for her current situation. Her breath caught in her throat as she was met with baby-blue eyes. They reminded her of the sky on a clear day. His muscular arms were covered in tattoos: a snake, a skull, a few tribal designs, and some other things she couldn’t make out. If it was under different circumstances, she might consider him attractive. She looked back up at his face. His eyes were wide and focused on her. They weren’t glazed over or red as she expected from a man that’d been drinking for the last couple hours.

  Her body was on fire, and she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to compose herself. When she opened them again, all three men were staring at her like she’d lost her mind. Turning on her heels, she walked out of the bar, grabbing a handful of napkins on the way.

  The hot air hit her in the face. She stepped away from the door before leaning against the brick wall next to it. The noise quieted as the door shut. She rubbed the napki
ns against her shirt, trying her best to dry the stain. Her mind replayed what just happened. She was being dramatic by storming out like that. She could have just accepted the man’s apology, gotten a new shirt, and cleaned up, but she had too much on her mind to act rationally.

  As she tossed the wet napkins in the nearby trash can, she noticed a pack of cigarettes on the brick window ledge. Someone must have left them. She’d given up smoking months ago, but she needed something to calm her nerves before going back inside. Jen needed her tonight. She grabbed the pack of Newports and opened it, relieved to see that a lighter was inside sandwiched between three cigarettes. She pulled one out and brought it to her lips. She cupped her hand to light it and inhaled. Her body instantly relaxed as the nicotine entered her system.

  “That shit will kill you.”

  She jumped at the deep voice. Blue Eyes stood in front of the closed door. His brown hair was tied up in a bun at the back of his head. Usually, she wasn’t a fan of the man-bun trend, but on this guy, it added to his look. His beard was cut short, but it was still very full. She hadn’t even heard the door open. Fuck, he had said something to her.

  “It’s a cigarette, not a bomb,” she said, taking another puff. Couldn’t she just have a minute of quiet?

  “Might as well be,” he grumbled.

  She caught a glimpse of something silver in his mouth as he spoke. A tongue ring? Really?

  “What do you want? Come out here to with your gang spill more whiskey on me?” she snapped, losing the little bit of control she’d been holding onto. “Where did you guys even come from? This isn’t a motorcycle bar, ya know. I have regular customers who wouldn’t appreciate your obnoxious friends.”

  “Brothers.”

  “What?”

  “They’re my brothers--and you mean the old pervert and the divorced lady who were in here? Those are your regulars?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  She flicked her cigarette to the ground.

  “Fuck you. Go find somewhere else to drink.” She pushed past his large frame and walked back into the bar. It seemed like things had actually quieted down in the short amount of time she’d been outside. Jen leaned against the bar and talked to one of the men.