Losing Traction: Westbeach #1

by Amo Jones

  “Thank you.” I slide into the back seat and wait for him to finish loading them. When he comes back around, he slides into the driver’s seat and readjusts his mirror while smiling softly at me.

  “The drive to the airport isn’t too far. The flight to Madrid…is.” He smiles, pulling out into the traffic.

  “Thank you. Will you be joining us?”

  His eyes bore into mine through the rear-view mirror and for a second, I think I catch a glimpse of someone else entirely. His smile comes back in on full HD.

  “Sure am.”

  How many strange people can you meet in one lifetime? I feel I may be reaching my quota.

  We pull up to the private airport and in through the high iron gates. Seeing the private jet sitting in the middle of the tarmac has me guessing that it’s our private jet because it’s huge. Although, I always assumed private jets were small.

  Stepping out of the car and pulling my sunglasses down over my eyes, I settled on casual for a dress today—flying in a plane isn’t exactly New York fashion week.

  The young driver begins to collect my bags out of the car trunk, lifting them as though they weigh nothing.

  “Thank you,” I say to him, smiling from under my glasses.

  “No problem, Phoebe.” I begin pulling my bags along with me, heading toward the plane when a large black SUV pulls up. It halts in front of me, and the back door swings open revealing Alyx Munroe. I smile at her and she gives me a snarl in response, so I sigh.

  This is going to be great fun.

  I continue walking up to her anyway with an outstretched hand. Because if there’s one thing my dad taught me it was to always be polite. It stuck, now it’s natural for me.

  “I’m Phoebe, the hired help.” She looks at my hand in disgust with her bright red lip curving up and her dark eyebrow arched up at me. “Yeah, I don’t need your help, honey. You’re only here because my manager insisted that I need a change of look.”

  I drag my eyes up and down her form and tilt my head at her. “Maybe your manager is right?” She huffs and storms up into the jet.

  When I bring my eyes back to the SUV, a middle-aged woman steps out. “Hi, I’m Belinda, the Manager. You must be Phoebe?”

  I shake her hand, nodding. “Yes, that’s me. Nice to meet you.”

  She gestures to the jet so I follow her. “Did Maree manage to fill you in on the nitty-gritty of it all?” she asks me as we make our way up the steps and into the jet.

  “Um…not really. To be completely honest with you, she’s been a little secretive. I only just found out it was Alyx Munroe a few days ago.” I’m mumbling, looking at her as I talk while keeping my eyes on the ground to stop me from tripping over my two left feet.

  When I swing my head around to look inside the jet, my heart slams up against my chest, my blood running cold in a matter of seconds. There, sitting in the front seat facing me, is Ryder Oakley. Yes, that Ryder Oakley.

  He’s looking down at his phone with Ryker, his twin brother and guitarist who looks exactly like him, sitting beside him. Next to Ryker, is Tommy, the drummer, and Leo Adkins, the bass player.

  “Um,” I manage to mumble out in between my discomfort.

  I can still hear Belinda yapping away next to me, but everything in earshot has been zoned out.

  Holy fuck.

  His head slowly tips up and I flinch at the exact moment his eyes lock with mine. His whole body stills, his eyes setting in stone.

  Great. I have pissed him off. Well, good—screw him I say.

  I look back to Belinda. “Why is Twisted Transistor here?” I ask her over swallowing through my nerves.

  “What? Maree didn’t tell you?” she asks looking between Ryder and me.

  “They’re who Alyx is touring with. She’s bringing out a single with Twisted Transistor.”

  Drawing in a breath, I swallow down my anger. “No, she didn’t. That’s okay, it’s fine.” I turn around and walk to one of the seats behind Alyx, but still facing Ryder. This is going to be catastrophic, I can feel it already.

  Placing my bag down on the seat next to me, I pull out my phone. After sending a quick ‘Fuck you’ text to Maree, I set it on flight mode and plug in my headphones. I’m scrolling down my playlist when I feel the heaviness of his eyes on me. I slowly bring my eyes up from my phone and look at Ryder, who’s looking at me with his trademark blank stare. He gets up from his seat and makes his way to the back of the plane. I exhale out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and glance to the rest of the boys who are sitting around him.

  Ryker smiles a broad grin and stands, making his way to me.

  Not in the mood.

  “Well, well, well. It’s a blast from the past.” He sits in the seat opposite me, with his dark hair messy and his piercing blue eyes prominent. He and Ryder are identical twins. But where Ryder is quiet, reserved, and slightly introverted, Ryker is playful, provocative and flirtatious. He’s the playboy of the two, seen with different women all the time. He’s also entirely covered in tattoos.

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the twist to my headaches. What do you want Ryker? I had no idea you guys were going to be here,” I replied, my tone bored, dragging my eyes away from him to continue scrolling through my phone.

  “Judging by the look on your face when you saw Ryder, I don’t question that at all,” he smirks before continuing, “How have you been? What have you been doing? How many tires have you been through since the last time I saw you?” he asks, keeping the mischievous smirk on his face.

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I rest my face to that of a bored housewife. “Probably about as many girls you’ve been through since the last time I saw you, Ryker.”

  He stands from the seat opposite me and moves in beside me, causing me to move toward the window.

  “Ryker!” I scold. The fact that he’s up in my personal space is no shock, he’d always put himself in my personal space.

  He cocks his head into my neck, his nose running over my ear before he whispers, “You know…little Speedy, my brother’s been a bit more on the angry side since we left. Now, I’m guessing that you have a magical vagina since you managed to bag him, not once, not twice, not three times, ‘Yes, yes, Ryder. Ahhh’—” I shove him in the arm cutting him off but not for long, “... but hundreds of times. I want a taste…” He draws his pierced tongue out of his mouth an inch away from my neck, ready to run it up toward my ear. I clamp down on his tongue with my fingers as my face scrunches up.

  “Ryker, no!” My face serious, but unable to contain a giggle that escapes my throat. “Get this fucking thing away from me.” I still have his tongue clamped in my fingers when he starts laughing.

  “Oh, oday, oday, I det it, dop it. Theriouthly Thoebe.” I’m laughing at his poor attempt at talking when a low deathly growl comes across from us.

  “Ryker…”

  Dropping his tongue, I shoo him back to his spot, still laughing at his playfulness. Swinging my eyes back to Ryder, I see him looking at me intently with a slight twitch in his eye. I find myself fighting the urge to flip him off. After whispering sweet nothings into my ear for two weeks, he just up and left me one morning. All of them—gone. I tried calling him, but he never picked up and eventually it went straight to voicemail. Screw him. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, thinking about how all the crazy begun…

  Two Years Earlier

  “Holy hell, what do you mean ‘he’s been taken care of’?” I asked Abby. Abby’s been around us since she was ten. She had a really rough start to life going through foster home after foster home, until my Uncle Pincher and Aunt took her in. They’re not my aunt and uncle by blood, but by loyalty and by the club. Abby was now the Chief of Police, and probably the only thing that stood in between Blake, Zane, and Ade’s mental tantrums and a jail cell.

  “I mean, he’s been taken care of. Don’t play dumb, you know what I mean, Speedy. Like your brother—or any of those boys—would let a man who put his hands on y
ou walk free in this world.”

  “That’s exactly why I didn’t want to tell him. Shit.” I huffed out, sinking down to the floor of the bar bathroom I was in, and rubbing my temples together in frustration. I knew dating Treasure was a big mistake, but I was vulnerable and wanting to act out. Because of who I am, I found comfort in the arms of a man who was a member of an MC. Unfortunately, it was the wrong kind of MC. I knew that, but we never had an issue with their club before, so I didn’t see the big deal. He was a psycho. He backhanded me the day I left, so I pulled my 9 mm Glock on him and told him to never fucking come near me again. It was effective. Until he found out, I’d slept with someone else. Not proud of these decisions at all, but I am who I am. My brother found out, and, well, that’s where this conversation was at.

  “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. It’s taken care of, like always.”

  “Thanks, Abby.”

  “Of course, Phoebs.”

  Hanging up my phone, and standing from where I was sitting, I walked to the sink. Gripping onto the counter, I turned on the tap, splashing water over my face, the cold from the water instantly calming my sweat of nerves. I couldn’t believe Blake, he thinks he’s untouchable. They get away with far too much.

  After wiping my hands on a paper towel, I pulled open the door and made my way back to the dance floor to try to find Melissa. Scanning across the floor, I found her dancing in the middle on her own. She could have a party all on her own that girl, just give her a bottle of vodka and some good music, she’s all the party you’d ever need.

  “Ready?” I asked her. She stopped dancing, glancing down to her watch.

  “It’s only just turned one in the morning. Let’s stay a little longer.”

  I shook my head, leaning into her ear. “I just found out some deep shit, not really in the mood now. Do you want to come with? Or should I call a taxi for you in an hour?” I haven’t had much to drink, just a glass of Vino, so I was good to drive.

  “All right, all right, I’ll come with.”

  I nodded my head, grasping onto her hand, as we begun wedging our way through the crowd of people. Once we reached the entryway, I pulled out my keys, walking down to my car where I parked on the side of the street. Pushing the button on my keys, my Evo VIII beeped to life. She was cute, I loved her, but I couldn’t wait to get behind another Nissan. Melissa slid into the passenger seat, buckling her belt.

  Pushing in the clutch, I started the engine. “You okay? Sorry, I just couldn’t stay after hearing what I heard.” Melissa had known me since first grade. She understood what those words meant when I said them and she knew I couldn’t talk about it. She respects that and has always stuck to the rules.

  “It’s okay, Pheobs. I get it.”

  Somehow, I didn’t think she did, but I nodded my head and shifted it into first gear before pulling out of the parking lot.

  When arriving back to my apartment, I threw my shoes off and launched myself onto my bed. I lived in midtown Manhattan, New York. It was fast paced and extreme. Everything that Westbeach was not. I missed Westbeach so much, I couldn’t see myself staying in New York for much longer. I needed the beach, the sun, and my cars. I also wanted a house large enough to drop a monster garage on the block.

  After tossing and turning, knotting myself in my sheets, sleep eventually took hold.

  The next morning, I stretched out of bed with my limbs feeling a little lighter. Whenever this sort of stuff happened within the club, it had me on edge. I’m human, I felt it, sometimes a little too deeply. I cared too much, and that was my fault. I consistently tried to fix lost souls because I’ve been surrounded by broken people all my life. I loved them all, though, there’s a unique kind of beauty that comes from someone who’s been through everything that should have broken them, but didn’t.

  Swinging my legs over my bed, I smiled at the picture of my dad, Blake, and me that sat on my bedside table. I’d done it every morning, so it was now a ritual. Sliding my slippers on, wrapping my silk robe around myself, I set off to the kitchen to make a bowl of granola. Meadow, one of my best friends and housemates, would make our granola from scratch. She was all about that Paleo business, where I didn’t care. Just feed me.

  Taking down a bowl from our top cupboard, in our modest kitchen, I pulled the milk out of the fridge, taking a seat at our two-seater table. It never made sense for us to own a larger table because it was always just Meadow and me. But as of lately, Melissa had been spending a lot of time here too.

  I poured the granola into my bowl, followed by full-fat milk, my mouth salivating from hunger. I was just about to take my first spoonful when Melissa came in moaning as she walked through the kitchen. “My head.”

  I laughed from behind my spoon. “Maybe, you should learn to slow it down.”

  She shot me an evil glare while swinging open the kitchen cupboard to get a bowl down.

  “Or maybe, I just need to change my drink,” she replied, making her way opposite me on the table. I glanced out the window next to me, taking in all of the skyscrapers in New York. It was such a concrete jungle. Again, I couldn’t wait to go home.

  “What’s the plan?” Melissa asked with her mouth full of granola.

  “We need to head back to Westbeach. Blake’s piece of shit accountant for his nightclub decided to walk her ass out of there. I have to go and pick up the papers for him and run the books until he finds someone else.”

  “Need to? Or want to?” Melissa asked with an arched eyebrow.

  “Both. He comes first. Also, I may be finding every excuse I can get to get out of here for a while.”

  “You’re leaving?” Meadow asked, walking into the kitchen with her elegant auburn hair tied back and her face fresh. How she could look this good, as soon as she woke up, was lost on me. She’s beautiful that’s a given, but there’s a lot more to Meadow. She had a rough childhood and was lucky enough to get a shot in New York City, thanks to her aunt, who put all the money she had into making sure Meadow had a comfortable life. Unfortunately, her aunt passed away last year and that was the last of Meadow’s family. She never knew her mother and her father was a pig. However, she was still beautiful, elegant, and well mannered. Her voice is as soft as a feather and she has a calmness about her that puts even the most manic to ease. Maybe I should have set her onto the boys back home, they needed a lot of calming.

  “Just for a few weeks, I need to go home and help my brother out with one of his businesses.” I poured a glass of orange juice while watching her get a bowl down as she began pouring her granola. She stood, leaning against the counter, spooning the granola into her mouth.

  “Oh yeah? Can I come?” she asked softly.

  I paused, dropping my spoon. “Of course! But don’t you have work?”

  She shook her head. “I quit last night.”

  “You quit? You loved your job?”

  “I did, yes. But the new boss was a little…intrusive,” she responded lightly, her eyes spaced out.

  “Intrusive?” I asked firmly with narrowed eyes.

  She shook her head again, adding a smile. “It’s okay, Phoebe. I’ll find another.”

  This was news to me. Meadow loved her job. She majored in computer science at NYU. She’s extremely smart, so I had no doubt that she’d find another job.

  “Okay, well…you can come with! This is going to be awesome. I have to warn you, though—”

  “Ha! Warn her? Oh honey, you can’t just warn people about your family. People would need at least a year just to warm up to the idea of meeting them,” Melissa interrupted under her breath.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Thanks for that Mel, seriously.” Before bringing my eyes back to Meadow. “As I was saying, my family are a little…different.”

  She pushed off the counter, rinsing her bowl in the sink. “They’re in a motorcycle club, yeah?” she asked smoothly.

  I nodded my head. “Yes, they are. They’re a little rough around the edges, and they may hit on
you here and there. I’ll stop that the best I can, though.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “It’s okay, Phoebe. I know all about pushy men. I’ll be fine. I’m coming.”

  I thought over her response about pushy men but decided not to dwell too much on it for now. “All right! Let’s go then.”

  After we packed up, Melissa taking longer than both Meadow and me to get ready, we were now on the road to Westbeach. First stop was Blake’s bar on the outskirts of Westbeach, the Coronado side.

  “Phoebs! Change the song!” Melissa moaned from the back seat.

  I laughed. “Yeah, well, I’m the driver, so tough.”

  She continued her moaning from the back seat and I looked to Meadow as we both started giggling, I turned up Five Finger Death Punch ‘Coming Down’ with Meadow and I both screaming out the lyrics.

  After a long forty-four hour drive that included two motel stops and countless burger joints, we were pulling into the bright lights of Westbeach. I’m in love with my hometown. It’s large enough to not bump into your neighbor at every convenience store, but it’s small enough to not have major traffic jams.

  “Wake up, bitches. We’re here!”

  Meadow stirred, rubbing her eyes as Melissa yawned from the backseat.

  “I just need to stop at Sinsation. My brother’s slut bar before we head to my house.”

  “You have a house here?” asked Meadow.

  “I did, as a child. It’s my family home. I try to keep it maintained as best I can. Where else do you think I keep my cars?” I answered with a smile.

  Meadow ran her fingers through her straight hair and shrugged. “I guess I never thought of that.”

  Pulling up to Sinsation, it looked like Blake had, yet again, put more work into it. The entire building is black, but the doors glow a bright red. If that wasn’t enough to scare these stupid bitches away, I don’t know what was. It’s a swinger’s bar. Something I’d never dabble in. When I’m in a relationship, what’s mine is mine, there will be no sharing.