by ML Nystrom
“I’ll be coming to work tomorrow night. I can’t afford to take time off, and frankly, it sounds like you can’t afford me taking time either.”
She ignored me.
“Brick’s beside hisself over the accident. Stud’s gonna be fine and you’re gonna be fine, but too many other things been happening round the club businesses. More than he’s letting on.” She sighed. “I know somethin’s going on between you, Stud, and Mute, and I won’t pretend to know which direction you’re supposed to go in. I bet you don’t know either, but please, for right now, just let it play out. I love both them boys like they was my own, and I’d love to see you with either of them, but I will say this: Mute is one of a kind.”
I was stunned. “I don’t know about that, Betsey. I thought perhaps Stud might be interested in me earlier tonight, but I really think he’s just a flirt with everyone. He’s way out of my league, anyway. But you got Mute all wrong. He doesn’t like me much and barely tolerates my presence.”
“You’d be surprised, darlin’. Both them boys is tied up in knots over you. If you don’t want either of them, you’re gonna need to let them go.”
The pills were kicking in and I was crashing hard.
“Do what you need to do, darlin’. I’ll be back to check on you later.” She patted my shoulder and left. I barely registered the sound of my bedroom door closing before I fell into a deep sleep.
Mute sat at the back bar watching Michelle and Cody play some sort of racing game on the club’s PlayStation. Their squeals of delight filled the lodge. Not many people were up, most of them already in their rooms or cabins for the night. A few were hanging around, shooting pool or sitting on the couches hanging out and recapping the day’s excitement. Donna was there, still wearing a skimpy French maid outfit from earlier and sitting with Hammer, one of the newer club members. She was draped over his lap, her plumped breasts in his face. She knew the score, but she still sent him looks of longing.
Shit. He’d promised Betsey he’d keep an eye on the kids, but right now he was dying to go outside for a cigarette. He kept seeing in his mind’s eye the sight of Kat bleeding on the side of the road. As far as a spill was concerned, it was not a bad one. It could’ve been far worse, yet when he repeated the scene in his head, he couldn’t help his heart dropping through his stomach. He remembered how furious he had been when he saw what Kat had been wearing. If he were truthful to himself, he wasn’t mad at her but rather how he’d reacted to it. One look at that tight body and he was struggling to keep his dick from getting hard. He had wanted nothing more than to go over to Stud’s bike, punch his sworn brother right in the mouth, pluck Kat off the back, and put her on his own machine.
Mute shifted on the barstool, his lower body tightening. He’d had to fight his body’s reaction earlier when he ran his hands over her, checking for injuries. He wanted to keep running his hands over her again and again, feeling the suppleness of her muscles and softness of her skin. He did get to put her on the back of his bike. When she wrapped herself around him, the aura around them balanced like she was supposed to be there.
Stud had come in and full of happy pain pills, grinning from ear to ear. Nikki had already decided to play nurse and was with him in his room. Mute snorted. Even if Stud was really interested in Kat for more than sex, he doubted the man could stop banging other women. Nikki was claiming she would be his old lady soon, but that was also unlikely, as he doubted she could stop banging other men. Every week Stud had a side piece or two from his fan club, and Kat hadn’t caught on yet.
She don’t deserve that, thought Mute as he looked unseeing at the TV. Michelle just won the racing game, and Cody was pouting. Smart little girl. Kat is also smart. Too smart for this place. Too good.
“What are y’all still doing up? Get yourselves upstairs and get to bed!” Betsey announced as she strode into the lodge. The two kids scrambled up the steps, giggling as they hurried. She walked over to Mute and set down her enormous purse on the bar counter.
“Long-ass night, eh?” she said, leaning against a barstool.
Mute didn’t answer, trying to keep his face and thoughts neutral. He stood to go, his babysitting duties over for the night.
“She’s gonna be fine, Mute,” Betsey commented as she slipped off her high-heeled boots and stretched her toes. They cracked and popped, and she sighed at the relief. “Lord have mercy, what a day!”
Mute gritted his teeth, craving that cigarette more and more. Betsey was not ready to let it go just yet.
“She’s a fine girl. Tougher than she looks! Smart. Works hard. Most reliable help the bar’s had in a long time. Didn’t think she’d hang with club life, but she’s stuck around. Good for Mackie, too.”
Mute refused to look at her, thinking it would encourage her to list more of Kat’s best qualities. He agreed with some of what Betsey said, but still thought Kat was too soft. She was too kind, and this world had the potential to take that kind, chew it up, and spit it out. She needed to be protected from it even if that meant she left the club and went her own way. But if she did leave, who would protect her?
He needed to get out of there, grab a nicotine fix, and go for a long night ride. Maybe do a bit of patrol around the town. See if he could find a renegade drug dealer and beat the piss out of him. Mute nearly smiled. That would make him feel better for a while.
Betsey noticed the smile and gave one of her own. “Well, I’m off to bed. I got them hooligans of Blue’s to take care of for the night. See you tomorrow, Mute. Keep them good thoughts, darlin’.”
Chapter 8
It was bitter cold, and snow was in the air with its heavy scent, ready to coat everything in white. Normally I liked winter weather, its crispness, the icicles decorating awnings and gutters, making everything sparkle, but right now not so much.
For weeks after the accident, I’d done my best to avoid both Stud and Mute. Stud was easy to avoid, as he spent most of his convalescence at the clubhouse doing the books. The few times I saw him when I worked the Lair, he had his arm in a cast and his foot propped up, being coddled by Nikki. He didn’t seem to mind the attention and he seldom acknowledged my presence. Something had changed between us the night of the accident. That hurt, but I never did fully believe a man like Stud would ever go for someone like me.
Mute was harder to avoid, as I still had to work with him. I tried like hell to go invisible again, wearing my hair in its normal ponytail, dressing in plain jeans and T-shirts. He was gruffer, surlier to me, and constantly in a bad mood when I was around. Even Mackie made comments about his attitude.
“Who the hell pissed in your corn flakes, boy?” he had blurted at Mute just a few nights ago. Mute had just looked at him and growled before stomping off.
“Damn ornery cuss needs a good fight! Get whatever shit is botherin’ him out by pounding some flesh!” Mackie had muttered under his breath.
Normally, I can let things go, let them roll off my back. I’m good at it. Tonight, though, I was having trouble doing that. I’d been through several weeks of pure hell.
The timing could not have been any worse. My roommate had suddenly moved out several days ago by simply taking everything in the apartment and leaving me a note that she and her boyfriend were heading to California. Why, I didn’t know. What I did know was when I said she took everything, I meant everything! My pitiful phone, my dishes, my furniture, even some of my clothes, including my good winter jacket. The reason I still had a laptop was because I’d had it with me for school work, otherwise she would’ve taken that as well. To top that off, I found out we were three months behind on rent. I had no idea what she had done with the money I’d given her for my half, just that the landlord had given me until the middle of December to move out. That was only a few days away, and I was flat-ass busted broke. I’d just paid my final tuition bill and had no money left to replace anything, and wouldn’t have any for a few more weeks. The tips in my pocket would cover food for the next few days, but there was no way
I had enough money to catch up rent, nor find a new place and pay for it. My anxiety level was high. I was trying to stay invisible, and trying to figure out where I was going to live, or at least stay until I could get back on my feet.
It was after my shift at River’s Edge, pitch-black, and getting colder when I climbed into my car. I didn’t have to work the Lair that evening, so I was planning on heading home while I still had one. I didn’t have my jacket, and the heat hadn’t worked in my faithful Fred for years. I shivered in the cold seat. Halfway to town, the engine sputtered and coughed. I began to beg, “Please, Fred, not now! Please get me home, and you can die later!” Fred didn’t listen. He coughed a few more times, the headlights dimmed, and the engine died. With the car suddenly dead, the wheel became stiff, and I cursed as I wrestled the coasting car to the shoulder.
I turned the key and heard a clicking noise, then nothing.
“No, no, no, no!” I cried, begging the car to start just one last time. “Please, please, please!”
Fred made one valiant chug, and was silent. I banged my forehead on the steering wheel a few times and fought off the urge to scream. It wouldn’t do any good. Think, Kat, think. I pulled open my wallet and counted the fifty some dollars I had from tips. There was a gas station a few miles down the road that might have an outside payphone. Do those things even exist anymore? I scrounged in the cup between the seats for a small handful of quarters, and prayed a phone was there in working order. A cab would probably eat up most of the cash I had, but what other choice did I have? Guess Ramen Noodles would be on the menu for a while longer.
I got out of the car, and the cold hit me hard, piercing straight through my clothes like a knife. The only jacket-like clothing I had left was a thin zip-up type. I wrapped it around me tighter, and took down my ponytail, letting my hair hang straight. That would warm my ears a bit. I locked the car and jammed my freezing hands deep in my pockets to ease some of the numbness already setting in. A few flakes of snow started to drift down. This was not going to be a fun walk.
I had barely taken the first step when a pair of headlights cut through the dark, and a huge black truck pulled up next to me. I was so cold, I didn’t really care who it was until Mute stepped out with his perpetual scowl at me.
“What the hell are you doing?” his face told me.
“M-m-m-my c-c-car died,” I chattered, my teeth clicking, “I th-think it’s the b-b-battery.”
Mute gestured for me to open the hood. He motioned for me to try the key, and frowned even deeper when he heard the click. Slamming the hood shut, he turned back to my shivering form and held up his hand, thumb and pinky sticking out to resemble a phone.
“I d-d-don’t have o-o-one right n-n-n-now,” I started, but he cut me off. His eyes bugged out at me and started gesturing wildly and angrily. I could hear him in my head.
“What the hell do you mean you don’t have a phone right now? What the fuck happened to it? You’re by yourself, it’s the middle of the night, and you work at a biker bar!”
He pointed at my car and flung his hands down at it. “Your car is a fucking piece of shit, and even if it wasn’t, you could’ve prevented it leaving you stranded by paying attention to it and getting it fucking serviced.”
I was getting colder and colder. The snow was falling faster now. My sinuses were tingling, and I fought back the tears as best as I could, but I was close to losing it. He moved closer to me and I stepped back, bumping into the icy frame of my car. He got in my face and kept at me, plucking at my thin jacket, flicking at my head, and jerking his hands in the air.
“You’re not wearing a winter jacket, gloves, scarf, nothing! And you’re gonna do what? Walk? In this kinda of cold? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?”
“Stop yelling at me!” I cried, and tried to shove him away from me. It was like shoving a brick wall. I fought it as best I could, but it was too much, I was too full. The accident, my being ignored, my invisibility, my fucking life, I spilled it all. I screamed and cried about my roommate stealing all my stuff, my tuition payments and lack of money, my soon-to-be homeless state—everything came out. My eyes were blinded by tears, my emotions raw and vulnerable. I had come to the end of my rope, and adding my now-dead car to the shit list that was my life was more than I could handle.
I gasped through my crying as I was enfolded in warmth. Mute had taken off his heavy leather jacket and draped it around my freezing body. Then he wrapped me in himself, pulling me close, pressing my face into his massive chest, surrounding me tightly with his strong arms, laying his head on top of mine. I was still crying and soaking his black Henley with my tears, but it was cathartic. The heat was wonderful, and I wanted to burrow deeper into him. A great sense of security washed through me, and gradually I was able to control my tears. I felt protected by his hard body, like he would both stand up for me and stand between me and danger. He was a man I could lean on, and let some of my load rest on his strong shoulders. I opened my arms and slid them around his waist, pressing as close as I could, and let his solid strength hold me and flow into me.
I’m not sure how long we stood in the cold, but at some point I became aware of him as a man. His hard body, heavy muscles, his masculine scent teasing my nose.
I heard a strange coughing sound, and felt him lightly jerking. It sounded like he was choking. I pulled back as far as I could to see if he was okay. His arms didn’t loosen.
Mute’s head was thrown back, mouth wide open, making that coughing sound. I could only stare. Mute was laughing. Laughing! This man I’d never ever seen crack a smile, was laughing! I was astounded.
Mute looked down at me, his mouth smiling and his eyes sparkling. He pointed to himself and quirked up one eyebrow. “Me? Yelling?”
I bit my bottom lip, not sure how to handle this side of the brutish man I had come to know.
“Well, you kinda were.”
This set him off again, his hand moving to the back of my head, pressing me again into his chest. I smiled a bit and relaxed into him, amused myself at the unintended irony. Then it all changed.
He pulled me back just a bit and covered my mouth with his.
The shock I’d felt earlier when I saw him laughing was nothing to what I was feeling now. I could feel it from the top of my head through to the tips of my fingers and toes. For such a hard man, his lips were incredibly soft. He drew my bottom lip between his, sucked on it gently, and stroked it with his tongue. I moaned at the warm contact, and he took that as an invitation. He slanted his head a bit more, delving deeper into my mouth, stroking, exploring, and taking it leisurely. He tasted faintly of coffee, and all man. I would’ve expected him to be rougher, taking what he wanted the way he did with Donna. But with me in that moment, he was easy, gentle, and coaxing.
I let go and let it happen. I kissed him back. I no longer felt the cold night air. Instead I was on fire, my nipples hard where they pressed into him, and the place between my legs throbbing with sudden need. He growled in my mouth and I could feel the hunger in him. Hunger for me! I pulled at his shoulders, trying to get closer. His hands roamed to my lower back, and he pulled me tighter into his hips; the hard ridge of his erection pushed into my lower stomach was unmistakable. I squirmed against him, feeling his hardness.
He ended the kiss and pulled back slightly, his lips still close enough that I could feel his breath across mine. He nipped at my lower lip before releasing my mouth completely. I was trembling again, this time from want. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I just stood there, wrapped in his arms, sharing breaths.
Then it was almost like it never happened. His face shuttered and settled back into its familiar scowl, and he abruptly let me go. If my lips weren’t still tingling from his touch, I never would have known he’d kissed me. He pointed to his truck, telling me without words to get in.
“I need to get my laptop and stuff,” I said, pulling his jacket off me to hand back to him. He pushed the jacket back to me, and held out his hand for my keys.
I dumped them in his outstretched palm and he whipped his hand again toward the truck, scowling hard. I wasn’t ready to call his jerk bluff. I turned and went to the truck, climbing in the passenger seat awkwardly. A moment later, he was yanking open the door and dumping my purse and computer on my lap. The door slammed hard, rocking the truck on its wheels. I buckled my belt, not sure of what to make of his sudden turnaround. He climbed in, fastened his belt, and started the truck with a low rumble. Heat poured from the vents, and I reveled in the toasty air. He fixed me with a piercing stare and quirked an eyebrow up in question.
“Where to?”
I gave him my address, and we drove through a shower of fluffy white snowflakes. I thought they were pretty as they sparkled in the beams from the headlights, but I didn’t say anything. Gruff jerk Mute was back, and I expected him to simply drop me off and drive away. Instead he got out and followed me to the second-floor apartment, carrying my stuff for me.
“Thanks, Mute, but I’m good now. You don’t have to stick around,” I mumbled, struggling with my keys.
His response was to simply take the keys from my hand and open the door.
My apartment hadn’t been much to begin with, and was basically nothing now. A single lamp lit the room, but nothing could hide its dingy bareness. There was only one room, besides the small bedrooms, that served as living room/kitchen and anything else it needed to be. Sheila had left the ratty couch covered in an old sheet, and an end table that had a broken, lopsided leg. My old box TV was gone, along with her CDs, her boyfriend’s game system, and the rest of the mismatched furniture. The kitchen area was in one corner with a refrigerator, oven, sink, and a few cabinets. The cabinet doors didn’t fit right and were hanging open, showing mostly bare shelves. She took the kitchen table and chairs, too.
I went into the small bedroom that was mine, Mute following me. I had a double bed, mattress only, that took up most of the floor space. There was a beat-up dresser, currently with its three drawers pulled out and empty, and a tiny, empty closet with no door. Still, I tried to make the best of what I had. My sheets and comforter were warm pastel colors of rose, gray, and blue. Luckily, Sheila’s taste was more toward reds and blacks, so she left my bed alone, however she did take the small white rug that covered the hardwood floor. My bedroom lamp I’d found at the Goodwill store was small, made from white bumpy glass, and looked very feminine and antique. It sat on the lopsided folding chair I used as a nightstand. I’d draped a pink scarf across the top of the shade to give the room a bit of a glow. Mute stood in the doorway, his dark eyes looking around, taking it all in.
