by Brook Wilder
“Hi, sorry for the wait, how can I help you?”
Elle’s mind raced, suddenly wondering just how, exactly, she was going to explain why she couldn’t help at the farm today.
“Um, Carla?” Elle said, then forced a few coughs, “It’s Elle. I think I…ah...I think I must have caught a bug or something…cough, cough…I probably shouldn’t go to the farm today. I’m, uh, I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Uh huh,” was all Carla said after a long, drawn out silence. Elle waited for her to say something else, covering the uncomfortable tension with another fake cough.
“Well, I uh, I should probably get some rest.”
“Oookay, Elle,” Carla said, drawing out the word, “You better do that. I hope you feel braver– I mean better, in the morning.”
Elle cringed at Carla’s supposed slip, knowing full well that her friend wasn’t fooled for a minute by her act. Without saying anything else, she quickly hung up the phone, that guilt once more rearing its head as she took a sip of her tea.
Less than an hour later Elle looked up at a knock at her front door. Curiously, she answered it, blanching as she found herself face to face with her best friend. Carla’s gaze swept over her with a knowing look before she held out a Tupperware bowl.
“I come bearing gifts. Of soup. And friendship.” Carla smiled, and it didn’t ease Elle’s guilt at all as she opened the door a little wider so the other woman could come inside.
“Thanks, Carla. You shouldn’t have,” Elle said with a forced smile of her own as she took the soup and brought it over the fridge, tucking it towards the back. It was where the stuff would probably stay. She’d been unfortunate to have Carla’s cooking before and it hadn’t been good.
It took a few minutes for her to have the water heated up and then another moment as she poured the tea into two china cups and carried them into the other room.
“I know,” Carla said with a shrug as she plopped down with a sigh on the overstuffed couch in the living room.
“You know what?” Elle asked distractedly as she concentrated on setting down the fragile tea cups with sloshing any of the steaming liquid onto the coffee table.
“I know that I shouldn’t have.” Carla gave her a look from under her dark brows and Elle gave in with a small sigh as she took the seat next to her friend.
“Carla, I…I have something to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“I’m, well, I’m not actually sick,” Elle forced the words out and watched in horror as Carla threw her head back as she let out a loud, belly laugh. Her shoulders were still shaking with mirth as she looked back at Elle.
“I know! I’m sorry Elle, but you’re a terrible liar.” Carla’s humor made a smile of her own growacross Elle’s face and, after a moment, they were both giggling.
“It was pretty bad wasn’t it?” Elle asked between laughs.
“Bad? It was awful!”
They both went off again, laughing so hard that Elle had to clutch her ribs they hurt so bad. Finally, the humor dwindled enough for Elle to take a sip of her tea and she was surprised by the serious expression on Carla’s face when she looked over at her.
“Listen, Elle…” Carla started slowly, obviously searching for the right words to say, “I know you lied about being sick, but…why?”
It was such an honest, direct question that Elle found herself answering before she’d even realized the words were coming out of her mouth, “It’s Honey. I can’t…He’s impossible to work with.”
“Look, I know I said I wouldn’t ask any questions–”
“You promised, Carla.”
“And I won’t,” she finished with a pointed look, “But I want you to know that I’m here for you, okay? If you ever do decide you want to talk it through. I’m your friend, Elle.” Carla reached out, grasping one of Elle’s hands in her own for a brief moment before releasing it, “The truth is, though, I really, really do need your help at the farm. We’re so short staffed and we have all of these orders that need to be processed…”
Carla trailed off, taking another sip of tea and Elle could see the worry lines crease her forehead.
“How? How are you so short staffed? I thought you had the Dirty Cruisers at your beck and call so to speak.”
Carla was silent for a long moment, her worry deepening into concern before turning back to Elle, “There’s been…some problems.”
“Problems?” Elle prompted when Carla grew reluctant to go on. Finally, with a sigh, she did.
“There has been a split in club.”
“I don’t understand,” Elle said, shaking her head in confusion.
“Do you remember Viper? Short guy, real greasy?” Elle just nodded, vaguely remembering the crude man, “Well, he’s been saying that Joel is taking the club in the wrong direction. Of course, he used more…colorful language, but that’s the gist of it. They’re worried about taking on a legit business.”
“Why? Why wouldn’t they want to not be criminals?”
“They don’t see it that way, Elle. Yes, a lot of what they’ve done is not strictly legal,” Elle snorted at that but Carla went right on, “but that’s the way of life they’ve chosen. Not owing anyone anything. Being free to do whatever you want. That why most of them joined the Dirty Cruisers in the first place.”
“So, what…there’s a mutiny, or something?” Elle asked and Carla shook her head slowly.
“Thankfully, it hasn’t come to that…yet. But things are getting tense. According to Joel, about half of the crew is behind Viper, who’s gone against Joel’s orders, and a lot more of them are torn.” Carla paused for a moment, “And that doesn’t even take into account the other crews.”
“What other crews?”
“There are some local clubs, like the Nomads, that are getting just as nervous about the profit that Joel will make. They’ve started putting so pressure on him to sell directly to them at cost.”
“But that’s–”
“That’s not going to happen,” Carla said, her voice hard, “Hot Wheels is talking with Sparkplug, one of The Nomads, and some of the other clubs to make sure everyone knows that we won’t fold to their demands.”
With another shake of her head, Carla rose to her feet, “Well, I better get back to the farm.” She gave Elle a rib cracking hug before pulling away, “Take the rest of the day off. Do what you need to. But come to work at the farm tomorrow? I really need you, Elle.”
“I…will, Carla,” Elle said.
“Promise?”
Elle looked at her, and then reluctantly nodded her head. Carla knew that she would never go back on her word, “I promise.”
Chapter 5
I could always stay home, Elle thought to herself as she got into her car the next morning, her stomach clenching painfully as dread and anxiety filled her. You promised, that pesky voice in the back of her head shot back defiantly. And she knew it was right. She had promised Carla that she would go to the farm and help her out today, and she couldn’t back out.
Besides, then Honey might think it’s because of him. That thought alone made her push the key in the ignition and turn over the engine to the little car, and it kept her going out of her driveway, down the highway and all the way until she pulled into the parking lot at the farm. It deserted her then, as anxiety once more flooded her system and Elle slammed on the brakes, skidding to a halt in the fine gravel.
She sat there for a long moment, her fingers grasping the steering wheel and it took all of her willpower to pry them from the leather. But she did. One by one, until her hand was finally free. Drawing on every ounce of determination that she had, which was considerable, she pushed open the door and got to her feet, closing it again with a loud thud that had her jumping.
Elle had spent nearly her entire life battling the crippling anxiety that had plagued her, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to let one alarmingly handsome, tattoo-covered, too sexy for his own good biker take that away from her.
Wi
th her resolve strengthened, she strode forward, heading for the office that sat perched just at the top of the small incline. The greenhouse next to it looked deserted except for a man she didn’t recognize who was unloading a truck full of dirt. At least she prayed it was dirt and not more compost. She shuddered just thinking about how long it had taken her to get the foul smelling stuff out of her hair.
There was an oddness to the way he was standing, as if he was trying to see everywhere at once and as Elle walked into the office the tension was even more palpable. She didn’t know how she could have missed it before, but with Carla’s warning about a split in the club, she could feel it now like an electric charge hanging in the air and just waiting for a single spark to explode.
She wasn’t surprised to see Carla there, the phone once more pressed to her ear and her forehead creased with lines of stress and worry and her heart went out to her friend. It was always a struggle, starting a new business, or in this case, taking one over. But with the added bonus of having a bunch of angry biker’s just waiting for her to fail was obviously taking its toll.
Elle took a step forward, wanting to say something to offer comfort but a hand on her shoulder stopped her.
“I wouldn’t bother her right now, if I were you,” a deep voice said behind her and Elle looked back to see Joel smiling at her before he shrugged in commiseration, “I already got chewed out for interrupting.”
“Oh, alright then. I guess I’ll just wait.”
“Wait? For what?” the only other female member of the group appeared behind the Dirty Cruiser’s president and Elle had to stop herself from jumping. But the woman’s pale green eyes shot at her like lasers, keeping her frozen to the spot as she arched a blond brow at Elle.
“I, uh, I’m just waiting to talk to Carla to find out what she needs me to do today. I promised.”
Hot Wheels grinned at that last, “You promised, huh? Well, the boss lady is busy right now.”
“I can tell,” Elle said through gritted teeth. She looked towards Joel for help but he was already walking away, his own plate full of things that needed to be done. Despite her best intentions, Elle couldn’t help but look around for another face.
“Who are you looking for, sugar?” Hot Wheels asked, her southern drawl thick as Elle answered before she could stop herself.
“Honey.” Darn it, she mentally cursed, and then sighed, “Is he here today?”
Hot Wheels gave her a knowing look, with more than a hint of sympathy mixed in, “No, he’s at the clubhouse. Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on those idiots while Joel’s here.” The other woman tilted her head to one side, narrowing her pale, jade green eyes at her, “You’re not sweet on him are you? Because unlike his name, Honey is not. Sweet, that is.”
“Oh, I know,” Elle muttered in agreement, before hastily shaking her head, “What? No, that’s ridiculous.”
“Because he’s trapped a lot of women over the years. I know. I’ve watched it happen, I’ve watched more than a few hearts get broken over that man and I’d hate to see a sweet girl like you fall to his…charms.”
“I’m not sweet,” Elle shot back with a huff of breath, “and I’m certainly not sweet on anybody. Especially someone as…as ridiculous as Honey.”
“If you say so, doll.”
“Look, I just need to find out what I should be doing, okay?” Elle said, and Hot Wheels threw up her hands in a gesture of mock innocence, but it was belied by the mischievous light in her green eyes.
“Well, shit, I can tell you that.”
“Oh, really,” Elle said with a raised brow of her own.
“Really. Here, you need to deliver this to the clubhouse. No one else can make the drive over.” Hot Wheels handed over a soft padded envelope, then added with a frown towards Carla, “When you get back, maybe you can talk some sense into that friend of yours. She’s going to work herself into a tizzy if she keeps going like this.”
“I thought she was your friend, too?” Elle asked, hesitantly taking the package.
“Oh, she is. But we’re a little bit…at odds at the moment, I guess you would say. I’ve been fraternizing with the enemy,” a sinful smile drew across Hot Wheels’s face and Elle was suddenly afraid to ask for any more details. Instead, she held up the package.
“This isn’t anything…illegal, is it?” Elle asked, finishing on a whisper. And jumped as Hot Wheels threw her head back and let out a barrel laugh.
“Oh, you sweet thing. Maybe you should fall for Honey. He’d have his work cut out with you,” the woman said, still chuckling to herself as she walked away. It wasn’t until a moment later that Elle realized that she hadn’t answered her question.
With a sigh, she turned towards the door, heading back out to her car. She didn’t have anything else to do. And she was sure that Carla wouldn’t have her move anything illegal. Pretty sure, anyway. A moment later she was backing down the gravel driveway and heading towards the Dirty Cruiser’s clubhouse.
She couldn’t help but wonder at the sudden lightness inside her, like bubbles floating through her. It couldn’t be because she might see Honey again.
That’s ridiculous, she mentally scolded, shaking her head at herself. Ridiculous.
***
Honey watched the room with a sideways glance. To anyone looking, they would just see the bartender with his head down while he wiped down the glasses, getting ready for whatever rowdy festivities the night would bring. But most of the members of the Dirty Cruisers didn’t realize that he was much more than just a simple bartender. His real job was to keep a finger on the pulse of the crew, and just then, the pulse beat fast and hard with a tension that was palpable.
That tension seemed to ooze forward as two of the Dirty Cruiser’s walked in, stalking towards the bar and talking softly to each other as if they didn’t want to be overheard. Honey didn’t recognize them. He couldn’t prove it, but he was fairly certain that Viper had been recruiting new members that were more loyal to him than the crew. The very thought made Honey’s stomach churn.
The two men, both rough looking, sat uneasily on the bar stools, the bigger one leaning forward.
“Hey, what does it take to get some beers in this shit hole?” he sneered and Honey had to grit his teeth to stop himself from saying something nasty right back. He had a job to do. And that didn’t include losing his temper and scaring off the newbies. At least, not until he had some valuable information to pass on the Joel.
“Yeah, it’s coming right up.” Honey said, his voice still tight with anger, but a moment later he was sliding two glasses of amber colored liquid in their direction. There were no thanks. The men were already back to their conversation.
“…are you sure, Buck?” the shorter one was saying.
“Of course I’m sure. That guy told me the truth about everything when he recruited us. He said I had to know cuz he might tap me for VP when he takes over. He says there’ll be plenty of dough and hoes when he’s in charge.”
“Dough and hoes. Good one, Buck,” the short one said, giggling nasally and Honey surreptitiously closer, his focus apparently all on the glass he’d been polishing for the last five minutes as if it was god damned crystal.
The one called Buck shoved the other man in the shoulder, “I didn’t come up with it, you moron. Anyways, he said the president who’s in charge now is a use–uspi– Usup–”
“I believe the word your looking for is ‘usurper’,” Honey said softly.
“What was that?” Buck growled angrily from his stool and Honey sent him his most innocent smile. The one where, if the newcomer had known him at all, would have had Buck backing up real quick.
“I asked if you guys needed a refill on those beers.”
“This piss water? No, I don’t think I could choke down another glass,” Buck said with a sneer and his companion hee-hawed like a donkey next to him.
“Good one, Buck. Good one. Piss water.”
Honey just shrugged, his face frozen in a good na
tured mask that he’d honed over the years as he went back to polishing the glass and they seemed to forget that he was there at all.
“So like I was saying,” Buck continued, “The guy in charge now is some sort of pussy who’s trying to get everyone to go straight and give up the life.”
“What?” the other guy interrupted, but Buck kept talking over him.
“The one who recruited me, the one who’s going to take over, he told me,” Buck stopped, looking around surreptitiously before lowering his voice even more and Honey leaned closer, trying to hear, “he told me–”
