by Evelyn Glass
About to open the door, Jess stopped but didn’t turn. Was it the dark circles that gave her away? What about that haunted look she couldn’t seem to get rid of. She was immediately annoyed at herself. She had done her best to hide how she felt from her mom. She was one of those alpha females that launched themselves feet-first into your life should you give them the opportunity. She had a right to know, though. She’d been there for her. She’d been there for the bruises she sported from Luke’s “tough love.” She’d been there to help clean and stitch her up that night with the nursing skills she’d picked up on the road. She’d been there to wait for Jess to finally speak again. She deserved something at least. Jess looked in the mirror at her mother’s reflection, still holding the doorknob. She looked old, hungover, and worried. “Nope,” she replied, forcing a small smile. “Slept like a baby.”
Her mother smiled wearily. “Way to go. Don’t burn the toast.”
***
There was something to be said about Kat. High functioning alcoholic or not, she kept a clean place. As Jess flicked the lights on in the café, they sputtered into life after a moment to illuminate the immaculate diner and kitchen. Fully stocked with vintage equipment, Jess always thought the café and its kitchen looked like something straight out of a movie.
Kat had taken over the failing café after her divorce from Ron, Jess’s step-dad. She had poured her divorce settlement into the place, along with additional funds from her brother, renovating the café, but keeping the antique, 1950s vibe of the place.
Jess had tried to convince Kat on many occasions to modernize it, at least the kitchen, and to at least add a microwave, but she refused, calling it a landmark and a little piece of history. And it was. Kat’s Café had been the official diner for the Grim Angels for as long as Jess had been alive.
Since her father died and Kat retired from the club, Kat had kept herself busy, first running, then owning, the café, ensuring everyone in the Angels had a place to grab something to eat, to talk, to get together, no matter what time of day or night. Growing up, Jess remembered the sound of motorcycles roaring in the distance like thunder and knowing, with a giddy excitement that some kids reserved for grandparents or favorite aunts, that her mother’s friends were back in town.
Even in the middle of the night, Jess would wake from a deep sleep and rush down with her mom to open the café. There would be pancakes at three in the morning, buckets of hot coffee, rashers of bacon, hamburgers, and, of course, whiskey. The café had no liquor license, but that never stopped the spirits from flowing liberally.
As she grew older, she found herself right at her mother’s side each time, piling onions onto bowls of chili and burning toast as her seemingly endless parade of uncles wrapped her in leathery hugs and slipped her twenties for fun money. If anyone had told her, she would’ve been shocked to hear that these men were criminals. Some of the men who took her into their lap and amused her with dirty jokes, despite Kat’s protests, were murderers. Blood stained hands or not, to little Jessica, they were her family and she loved them all ferociously. To her, they were no more dangerous than she was.
Blood. So much blood. Gorgeous black, sticky, blood, and how easy, how easy it was to do… Standing alone in the kitchen, Jess shook her head rapidly. Stop it! It was a dream and now the dream was over. You have a job to do.
Without checking the grease, because as far as she was concerned, the older the grease, the better the fries tasted, Jess flicked the two fryers to the on position. With practiced precision, she started the grill and made her way into the dining room. No one was waiting outside, despite the half an hour delay in opening, which wasn’t that surprising. Their clientele, when they had some, kept odd hours. She turned the open sign on and unlocked the front door. All that remained to be made was the coffee and, god knows, by the time she managed to make it downstairs in a couple of hours, her mom would be gagging for a cup. With a deep sigh, she picked up yesterday’s newspaper from where it sat by the cash register and flipped through it. Another day begins. Another day of solitary confinement, trapped in a grease-smelling tower in the middle of nowhere.
Chapter Two
“Where’s my little girl?” Jessica’s uncle’s voice was almost as loud as the sound of the hog he rode up on. He was a huge man, almost filling the doorframe, but his smile was even bigger. His perfectly straight teeth were gleaming, almost shark like, and his smile was deceptively lighthearted, though the eyes above that ingratiating smile were something quite different. Jess had seen him at his most ferocious and those same teeth looked as if they could devour you whole under the right circumstances. “Jessica Mitchell!” he roared again as he stepped inside and out of the door.
Jess could feel the other customers flinch at the leather-clad giant who was suddenly interrupting their quiet morning. The old man nursing his coffee reached for his wallet and the young couple, who had just arrived, looked nervously out to their car. They had every right to be nervous. Who wouldn’t be? He spotted her behind the counter, and as he strode in the other members of the Grim Angels piled in after him like two dozen black beetles scuttling out from under an overturned rock.
Jess hastily slid the coffee pot back into its warmer and rushed to her uncle’s arms. He surrounded her in his arms and squeezed her against him, burying her face into his broad chest. She inhaled deeply, drinking in his smell of fresh air and exhaust. It was an amazing combination that seemed to make the café disappear, if only for a second, as she closed her eyes and imagined this was what freedom smelled like.
Immediately the café was filled with laughter and conversations as her uncle’s men and a few old ladies settled themselves in. Legs spread wide in their seat, heavy shoulders filling up the tiny booths—Kat’s café was instantly transformed into a clubhouse.
Her uncle pushed her back so he could take a good look at her. “You look tired, Jess,” he said as he cupped her face in his massive hands, causing her to close her eyes again, like a caressed kitten.
“I guess I am,” she replied, her eyes still closed.
“Still got the dreams?”
Jesus, what was with everyone today? Despite her happiness at seeing Uncle Valdemar again, she found herself growing annoyed. She was tired of being defined by that night, protected from what she had done. Even though the other men were becoming progressively louder, her uncle’s voice was quiet, the most soothing thing she’d heard in weeks.
Unable to lie to him, those calloused hands that had taken god knows how many lives wrapped gently around her face, she nodded. She opened her eyes and found him staring directly at her. His eyes always looked old. Even when she was a little girl, she remembered those eyes and how they always seemed so... full. Full of anger and sadness and occasionally kindness, it was all swirled into those irises that had seen everything life had to offer over the years. He looked at her now with concern, and something else she couldn’t make out. Respect, maybe?
“Almost every night,” she murmured. “Used to be more, though, so, I can’t complain.”
Val Ingersson smiled slightly, those shark teeth peeking out from behind his thin lips. “Yeah, those don’t go away quickly. I still dream about a few of my firsts once and a while. But they do go away. You just have to hang on until they do.”
That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Jess’s stomach tightened and, for a moment, she felt helpless, a nightmare far worse than the ones she’d been dealing with for the last half a year.
“Fucking hell! Val!” Her mother’s voice, perhaps the only thing loud enough to cut through the growing roar of the bikers, interrupted their conversation. She pushed wide the door to the stairs leading to their apartment and rushed into her brother’s arms. Jess stepped back just in time to avoid being crushed and watched the siblings hug. No hesitation, no self-consciousness, the two big-boned creatures locked onto each other in the kind of hug that comes with years of shared experience. “Where you been? It’s been so long!” Kat asked, pushing herself
out of Val’s arms.
Laughing, Jess wiped a few tears from her eyes. Maybe someday I will have someone so glad to see me.
“Business! Lots of business!” Val replied, holding Kat by the shoulders.
“You been on the road all night? You boys look exhausted!”
“Hungry, more like it.” Val swung himself onto one of swiveling stools that lined the diner counter. He looked ridiculous, like a whale perched on a mushroom.
Jess saw the old man hastily dropping some bills by his coffee cup before he raised himself up shakily and, doing his best not to stare at the gruesome Grim Angels logo on the back of every jacket that surrounded him, made his way toward the door with his head down. She smiled sadly as he left. He was her favorite customer. Almost immediately, the young couple who had, until her uncle’s arrival, been picking through the menu while looking around and admiring the place, rose and followed the man out.
“Place is all yours, sweetheart,” Kat said, placing yet another kiss on her brother’s bristly cheek. “Figure out what you want and we’ll get it going for you.”
***
It took over an hour for Jess to get everyone’s orders taken and the meals on the grill, her mother circulating and pouring coffee while catching up with the men. All the Angels wanted to talk with her, many of them having known her since she was a baby and her mother was an old lady in the club. There was something different this time, however, and she tried not to notice. Like her uncle, most of the men had a strange mix of respect and sadness in their eyes when they spoke to her. Of course no one mentioned anything. They were far too experienced for that. Rather, they told her banal things such as how pretty she was, asked her how her summer was, or asked about her mom. They asked her about pretty much everything except what kept her up at night. In all honesty, she was glad for the distraction and the chance to be busy.
Once inside the kitchen and in front of the grill, she didn’t have time to think of much of anything except for how much bacon was on Pat’s burger or whether she had enough gravy for the never-ending fry orders her mother was throwing at her. Even though it wasn’t much past ten in the morning, she could her hear the clank of beer bottles as Kat made sure all the boys were taken care of.
As she began to load plates with the first of the orders from the grill, the normally sedate café was filled with shouts and, best of all, laughter. This is what she needed: sweat on her brow and no secrets. It was only when the last of the men were face down, focusing on their food, that she had a moment to take a break and catch a breath.
Leaning against the cooler door, allowing the steel to draw the heat from her body, Jess took a long sip from a pop. The bubbles felt good in her throat and she pressed the icy can against her forehead then her chest. If it were only like this all the time, she would feel so much better. She might even be able to forget, to move on and maybe even get a place of her own. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to enjoy her quiet mind. Underneath the clink of cutlery and the quiet rumble of conversation in the dining room, she heard her mother’s surprised voice.
“Jason? You sure?” There was seriousness to Kat’s tone that intrigued her. She had been as bubbly as a flirt at a cocktail party for most of the morning, flitting from table to table as she caught up with friends old enough to be family. Now, however, there was an intensity to her voice that caused Jess to move toward the door in order to better hear. “I mean, this is a big deal. Has the kid earned it?” her mother continued as Jess coasted to a stop just out of sight.
“You think I would choose him if he hadn’t?” Val’s voice responded, equally serious and sounding slightly offended. “That boy has been nothing but loyal from the get go. There’s no one in the Angels more dedicated than him. He’s done the work to get here, believe me.”
“But is he loyal? I mean look what happened with… ”
Jess’s heart skipped a beat, knowing her mother was about to say his name, a name she hadn’t said out loud since that night.
Val stopped her before she could. “That was a different situation entirely. We should’ve taken care of that long before what happened, the twisted fucker.”
There was emotion in her uncle’s voice that Kat immediately responded to, her voice dropping so low that Jess had to edge closer to the open door to hear. “He had us all fooled, Val. You couldn’t have known. I’m her mother and I didn’t know. He was a smart motherfucker.”
“He was a sick motherfucker. That shit will not happen again. I’ll see to that. If it does, I’ll have the fucker’s head on a pike for all to see.”
“She’s doing better, Val.”
Jess’s heart was thudding in her chest. Listening in on secrets was never a good idea. She crossed the door to the sink, glancing furtively out of the corner of her eye before stopping out of sight again. The two were practically huddled together at the counter and there were at least eight empty beer bottles lined up in front of them. They might as well been cans of soda like the one in her hand for all the effect they seemed to have had. The two looked like Norse gods, sober-eyed and serious, despite the ketchup stained plates and empties that surrounded them.
“She shouldn’t need to do better. She should have never been involved in the first place. I don’t want her part of this ever again. She’s untouchable now. Jason knows that and the men he’s bringing up with him know it, too.”
“Jesus, Val! Look at her! She’s young and she’s beautiful. How are you going to keep them off her? We can’t keep her locked up here for life.” There was vulnerability in her mother’s voice that she hadn’t heard before. She was scared. Scared for herself, scared for the lifestyle she had grown up in, scared for Jess’s future, and maybe even a little scared of her brother.
Jess listened from her hiding spot as her uncle paused, then she heard the thunk of a bottle hitting the bar. “They know. They all know. Off limits, entirely. If anyone goes near her, I’ll deal with it myself. ”
“Well then, those Atlanta boys better behave,” her mother replied softly.
“I don’t think we have to worry about that.”
Chapter Three
The day finally completed, her legs aching and her hair reeking of fried food, coffee, beer and sweat, Jess trudged up the narrow steps to the apartment above the café, reveling in her tiredness. She was exhausted, but her mother was still going strong. It had been a long day full of food and drinking, and she could still hear the Grim Angels in the café below, talking over the heads of their passed out brothers, mixed with the dull thump of music from where they blasted their stereos on the deserted street outside.
She could feel the heat growing as she made her way up the steps. There wasn’t enough money left after the café had been renovated to also update the included apartment, and when it was this hot, she could really smell how old the place was. She imagined all of Detroit smelled like this, abandoned and forgotten, full of history that no one cared about and the rapidly dwindling promise of a brighter future. Kind of like herself. It felt like every step she climbed was another level of sadness creeping back into her. She hadn’t gone out in over a year, her life nothing more than work and sleep in a continual loop.
She turned the key in the lock and found the apartment to be even hotter than the kitchen below. Immediately she moved to the large windows and yanked open the curtains. Like the rest of the place, the windows hadn’t been updated and it took her several minutes of sweaty struggle to unlatch them and get them open, her efforts loosening more wood and paint chips from the slowly rotting frame. The cool dusk air flooded into the room, filling it with the smell of hot pavement and the sounds and exhaust from the bikes below. Jess leaned out and took a deep breath. Underneath her, the remaining Grim Angels milled around their bikes. She was reminded, once again, of beetles, their shoulders rounded in their black leather, industriously building an underground network deal-by-deal and job-by-job.
Across the street from the café and all around them were low-rent housing
and a few storefronts, long ago abandoned. She had seen a few people come and go from the area, but, in general, it was an empty, desolate place. People had either given up or been kicked out, pushed from their homes by either lack of money or motivation. She had explored those places often, hoping to find something interesting. She had done that a lot before that night at Luke’s place.
When the rest of her friends were out getting high and screwing each other’s boyfriends, she used to spend her spare time poking through the many feral homes and businesses that made up her neighborhood and the surrounding city. She was never sure what she was hoping to find, but everything she stumbled across became a treasure. Newspapers, old novels, bottle caps, canned food long ago spoiled, those unintentional time capsules intrigued her. So much. in fact, that she had been in the process of preparing her college entry essays before everything had fallen apart. If she had just followed her heart, things would have turned out so different.
The old abandoned buildings fascinated her, and as she crept through them, she imagined what they must have been like in their heyday. She wanted to study history, to learn about the past, and maybe someday curate a museum. That had been her childhood dream, following in the footsteps of Indiana Jones. Now, however, it seemed so far away and ridiculously, embarrassingly, naïve.
