by Helene Laval
Driving home, I thought of what Betsy and Rina said about Steve. Specifically, how I looked at Steve. Was I that transparent? There was no doubt he was good looking with all that dark hair and tanned skin. He had a smile that made any person on the receiving end feel like they were the only person on the planet. It sounds cliche, but the guy had every girl turn their head his way when he walked into a room, including mine. I just tried not to show it. He was a smooth talker and didn’t have any reservations about taking any one of a half dozen girls home at the end of the night. I should know, I’ve seen it many times before.
One night this summer while taking out a load of trash, I found him with a girl out back, her down on her knees, and Steve with his hand fisted in her hair. I was both disgusted and turned on. I had a sudden urge to be that no-named girl doing those things to him. Ever since, I’ve not let myself dare entertain the thought of his many advances toward me. Because it wasn’t what I did see, it was what I didn’t see. I didn’t see Steve with the same girl twice. Not once in the year that he’d been in Song, and if there was anything I knew about myself, I was an all-in type of gal. Which is exactly why I needed to stay away.
The wind was howling when I reached the parking lot, and my front door nearly ripped off when I opened it. The air was frigid to the bone cold, and I scuttled inside the bar and headed to my office. I changed into sweatpants and a sweatshirt and walked over to the kitchen. Since we started opening up for lunch last year, my food selection improved greatly. For a while I pretty much subsisted on deep fried anything and chicken wings, not having extra cash for my own groceries. Today, I made myself my favorite BLT sandwich on thick Texas style bread with a healthy amount of bacon and mayonnaise. I poured myself a glass of water and walked back to my office. Pulling my latest guilty pleasure romance book out of the desk and settling down for an evening alone with a highlander rescuing a damsel, I was snuggled in for the night. A few minutes into my book, and my phone rang. Just on time, I thought.
“This is a call from the Pennsylvania State Correction Facility. Do you accept?”
My father called every Sunday evening, and I learned early on in his incarceration to never miss. Last time I wasn’t home for a call, I had five not so friendly guys in leather track me down at the gas station where I was filling my tank and escort me back to the bar to ensure I was safe. It was humiliating, and I never let it happen again. Of course, that was four years ago, and most of my dad’s people had either been incarcerated themselves or moved on. But I had no doubt there were a few out there, waiting to drag me home to take a call if needed.
My father was Big Joe O’Dell, former president of the now defunct Pocono chapter of the Dirt and Roses Motorcycle Club. There were still plenty of D&R’s out there, even within the state. The Pocono chapter got absorbed by the Scranton chapter, and that was just fine with me. I was only nineteen when my father went to prison, and despite being the President of a motorcycle club, he kept me pretty sheltered from it all until I was fifteen, when my mother died, and I had to go and live with him.
At fifteen, I had just gotten to see what type of person my father was. He was not a nice man and was in prison for a list of drug and weapons charges.
I accepted the call and heard the click of the transfer.
“Hi, Dad,” I said into the phone.
“Hello, sugar, how’s my girl doing?” he answered in his deep gravelly voice. My dad was a big man with a full beard and layers of tattoos, but his voice was uncharacteristically tenor and kind, at least when he was calm and in a good mood. Piss him off and it felt like the world would crumble.
“Things are same as usual around here. Busy bar, no action. How are you doing?”
“Not much changes around here, Annie, you know that. I don’t have a lot of time and I want to hear all about you. You have anything you’d like to share?” It wasn’t really a question. Shit.
“No.” I squinted my eyes, praying this wasn’t going where I thought it was.
“What’s this about you pulling a shotgun on a bar customer? A civilian no less.” In my father’s world a “civilian” was somebody that wasn’t in a gang or a member of the police department.
I groaned, loudly. “My God, how do you get your information! It happened two days ago, how do you possibly know this stuff?” I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was annoyed. For the love of Pete, I can’t have any privacy.
“I know everything. Always have. I have people that keep in touch and keep tabs, you know that,” he said, starting with a chuckle and ending on all business.
“Dad, I told you a hundred times I can take care of myself! Stop spying on me, okay?” I pleaded.
“What happened? Do you know how much trouble you could’ve gotten into? What were you thinking?”
“What was I thinking? I was thinking this guy just grabbed me by the throat, and another guy jumped in to get him off. The guy attacked my friend, and I pulled out a gun.”
There was a “hmmmm” and a long pause, then my dad asked, “Who’s the friend?”
Shit. I didn’t mean to give that away.
“Nobody. Just a regular. Any decent guy would’ve done what he did.”
“Maybe, but you wouldn’t pull out a shotgun on behalf of just anybody. I taught you better than that.”
“You’re the one who taught me how to shoot a gun. Just leave it alone.”
“What’s his name?”
“I’m not telling you. Let’s change the subject.”
“No. If you won’t tell me, I’ll have somebody down this week to check him out.”
“No you won’t. Do not do this, Dad.” He would. He definitely would. I could not let that happen.
“You’re all I have, baby girl. If something ever happened to you, your mama would kill me from the grave.”
“Stop being so dramatic. I’m fine. Nothing is going to happen to me. It’s just that the town is changing, you know? People have moved on, and a lot of folks don’t know the old rules about the bar.” A long silence sat between us, and I felt compelled to keep talking. “They built the new highway that passed by here and the city, and we have all kinds of people coming through. Some of them are very powerful and very rich. The more I’m associated with the Dirt and Roses, the harder it is on me.”
I took a deep breath and pleaded. “Please, I can take care of myself, and get my own help if I need it. I do not want your club members up in my business.”
Another long silence and I thought I had finally gotten through to him. I started to relax my shoulders and sat down again on the edge of my bed.
“You need protection. I’ll have somebody there before Friday. Love you, baby girl.”
He hung up.
“Ughhhhh!” I threw my book across the room in exasperation. Shit.
9
Steve
Monday morning was cold. Even though we had a decent heating system in the garage, the wind was pummeling the tin roof, and even our usual blaring classic rock couldn’t hide the whistling and roaring wind outside. Jesse was on tow duty, and already rescued three stranded vehicles this morning with dead batteries and was currently out on another call.
I was having a hell of a time working on a banged up 4Runner, and I needed the compound to dry before I could continue with the project. My other job was waiting for a new fender. With nothing to do but wait, I was generally cleaning up around the shop, picking up tools and sweeping. Michael was in his corner reprogramming some shit I had no idea what. Jesse always joked he was some sort of genius. Who the hell knew what went on in that brain of his? One thing was certain, if anybody could solve a computer problem, it was Michael.
“Incoming,” the big bearded Viking yelled across the vast open room.
I looked through the large plexiglass window that gave us a view of the lounge/office/waiting room area and saw the door opening.
“How do you hear that?” I yelled as I placed the broom against the wall and made my way to greet the customer.
By the time I got near, I watched Annie O’Dell barge into the small room and struggle to push the door shut behind her. She had on a bomber-style brown leather jacket with a fur-lined hood that had fallen halfway off her head. She turned around and saw me through the plexiglass walking toward her. She didn’t smile, but she wasn’t scowling when she lifted her chin in greeting.
“Annie!” I said all smiles as I too crammed myself in the small space. Her cheeks were red and chapped from the extreme cold wind, and her hair was sticking up in several directions. She looked adorable and sexy all at the same time.
“Steve. Hey, I’m sorry to just stop by like this. It’s my truck. I have to take a drive this afternoon. I got Cliff and my waitstaff covering the bar until dinner shift. I thought my battery was dying in my truck because it was having a hard time starting the last couple days.”
“Lots of that this morning. Jesse’s been out rescuing people with dead batteries all morning. Cold came on fast this year and that means business for us.” I moved toward and gestured to the Keurig in the corner. “Come on in and grab a coffee. Warm yourself up.” There was a nice selection of flavors to choose from, and I set up a paper cup under the machine for her. “I’ll pull your truck in and change the battery.”
“Thanks. Coffee is great. It’s not the battery. I already changed it this morning,” she said choosing a coffee pod and pressing the start button.
“You changed your own battery?”
“Yes. Why?”
I had to be very careful here. Annie was an independent woman. So I said the only thing I could. “Nothing.”
“You don’t think a woman can change a battery?” She glared at me and put her hands on her hips.
“I didn’t say that! It’s cold outside. Outside isn’t a place where you want to change a battery today is all. Anyway, if you changed it, then why are you here?” Okay, I was impressed that she changed her own battery. Not surprised. She did grow up in a motorcycle club. She could handle a shotgun, why not a car battery? It was all kinds of sexy, and my dick stiffened thinking about her in a set of coveralls, a smear of grease on her cheek. Fuck.
“It was sluggish to turn over, so I picked up a battery. But even after I changed it, it’s still having a hard time starting. I would normally wait, but like I said, I have to take half the day off today and drive up north. I don’t want to get stranded.”
“It could be the alternator.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Of course she was.
“Ok, let me pull it in and we’ll take a look. Got your keys?” She pulled them out of her pocket and tossed them over.
Annie waited in the office with the hot cup of coffee in her hands while I took a look at her truck. I am a body man. Dents, scratches and paint jobs were my thing, but I was a certified mechanic, and this was a relatively simple job to diagnose. After a few minutes, I went back to the office to give Annie the bad news.
“It’s the alternator. Easy fix, but it won’t be today. I have to order the part.”
“It has to be today. This morning is the only time I have to make this trip,” she said looking tired, and nervous. Annie always exuded confidence, and I’d never seen her look this anxious.
“Well, you’re not going to make it in that truck,” I said.
“Shit,” she said
“Where do you have to be?” I asked.
“I have to go to the State Pen,” she said letting out a deep breath and deflating along with it.
I was careful to keep my face neutral. “Your dad?”
She nodded.
“That’s what, two hours? I can take you. If we leave now, we’ll have you back by three or four.” I meant it. I wanted to help her.
“No,” she said with finality, a deep scowl on her face. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed tight. I had a sudden urge to grab that beautiful face of hers and kiss that angry frown right off her.
“Why not?” I stood up tall and walked toward her. She took a step back.
“I can’t ask you to do that. I’m fine. I’ll figure something out.” She turned and tossed her empty cup into the small waste basket in the corner.
“You let me decide what I can or can’t do. Let me help you,” I said.
“Steve—” she started.
“Don’t ‘Steve’ me. I want to do this,” I interrupted, my voice rising in volume. I caught myself at her bristling form and said softer, “I don’t have any more work today, anyway. It’ll be fun. I’ve always wanted to see the state Pen.” I smirked.
She chuffed. It was nearly a smile. She sucked in a deep breath and said, “Okay. But I’m going to owe you big time for this.”
“I can think of a few things you can give me.” I smiled wide at her and took another step forward trying to get myself in her space. I couldn’t help it, I was a flirt.
She didn’t take another step back this time but stepped forward and punched me in the shoulder.
“Ow!” I yelled in mock pain and rubbed my arm, wounded. This time she did smile, and it took my breath away.
I took a few minutes to order the alternator for Annie’s truck then I went to tell Michael what I was up to the rest of the day.
“Hey man, I’m taking off, going to take Annie up to visit her dad. I’ll send Jesse a text, but if you see him, let him know,” I told him.
“K.” A usual Michael reply, and he didn’t take his eyes off the monitor he was watching. I turned to go, and he stopped me with one hand.
“Storms coming. Take the pickup.” The pickup was a Ford F150 we used to get parts and haul replacements from the scrap yard when needed. It had four-wheel drive, but it wasn’t the most comfortable ride to take up the highway.
“Nah, it’s not going to be here until tomorrow. I heard it on the news. It’s not even November. Last chance to take the Camaro out for a highway trip.”
Michael glared at me then shrugged like it wasn’t his problem, and I walked over to get Annie and hit the road.
10
Annie
I felt like a schoolgirl with her crush. Stupid, I know, but my insides were trembling despite me trying to project a thorny exterior. When he said he’d take me up to visit my dad, it took everything I had to say no. My no didn’t last long of course, but I’d tried. Now here I was, trapped in this tiny car, feeling like I had nowhere to run, and I wasn’t sure if I was happy about it, or pissed off at myself for allowing it to happen in the first place.
I looked out the window as we started out on the highway, afraid if I looked at anything near him, I’d get caught. I was already fighting hard with myself to stop staring at his hand and forearm on the stick shift. Every time it moved into another gear, I wished that hand was on me. Stop it, Annie, shit. The window seemed like a safe bet.
That didn’t stop me from glancing his way though. Steve stared straight ahead, left arm slung over the wheel, jaw clenched. I could see the muscles working in and out in tension as he concentrated on the road. Damn, concentration Steve looked hot, another reason I had to keep looking out the window. Lord help me. We had a two-hour drive. I had to pull myself together, or I was going to end up straddling him as we flew down the highway. Stop it, Annie! I said at the visual of myself crawling onto his lap. Be cool. Problem was, I wasn’t cool. I had no idea how to act around somebody I was attracted to, especially to a man that pressed every button I had.
I don’t know a lot about cars, but the Camaro was sleek. A black newer model with heavily tinted windows and a tan leather interior, there wasn’t a scratch on it, and it was obvious Steve loved it. It was meticulously clean, the interior as shiny as the outside.
I couldn’t stand the silence any longer and it had only been ten minutes. Uncomfortable, I decided the car was a safe topic.
“This is a nice car,” I said.
“She is, isn’t she?” Steve said, visibly relaxing. He turned the sound down on the radio to comfortably continue.
“I got her last year, just after I started at Singer�
��s. The original owner was this punk kid. Rich boy. Decided it was a good idea to take her home after a night of partying and wrapped her around a tree.”
“Oh my god, was he okay?” I asked.
“Not a scratch on him,” Steve said shaking his head. “Anyway, we towed it into the shop, and it sat in the lot sad and twisted and broken for nearly a month before we heard anything. Then one day, the kid comes in driving the exact same car, but a newer model. He takes one look at the car and says, ‘My dad says I have to take care of this. Scrap it. I don’t need it anymore.’ He signed it over and left. Didn’t even wait for us to issue a check.”
“And you took it?” Now I was looking over at him, but his eyes remained steady on the road.
“Hell yeah, I took it! I couldn’t afford a car like this, but there are benefits to being the world’s best body mechanic.” He grinned over at me. “It wasn’t as bad off as it looked. The frame was solid, and mechanically it was fine with a few minor repairs, but the body was a mess. It didn’t need to be scrapped. The kid was just a rich spoiled brat. I hate kids like that. Have no idea what it’s like to work for something.”
“We get a lot of those lately. Rich, selfish and stupid. They come into the bar all the time,” I said.
“Like the other night?” Steve asked. This time he grinned widely and chanced a look at me before returning his eyes to the road.
“Like the other night.” I sighed.
I’m a cautious driver; I don’t take my eyes off the road. I noticed right away Steve was a cautious driver too. I appreciated that he took quick glances over at me and went back to what he was supposed to be doing, which was concentrating on the road ahead.
“But yes, I love this car,” he continued. “This is probably our last trip out before I put her up for the winter. She’s a fair-weather car. I don’t want to mess her up with salt and snow,” he said patting the dashboard.
