by Dahlia West
Next to him was a bike, small and shitty as it was. It was a Harley to be sure but only just worthy of the name. Easy hadn’t wanted to invest a lot of money at the time, not when he was secretly unsure he’d even be able to ride again. Beyond the front door were other options as well. Such as Jack Daniels, who a year ago had felt more like a brother than the men he’d served with. Easy had, so far, not found a problem that Jack couldn’t solve, or at least make him forget about for a while.
Also waiting ever so patiently was the box, a small bit of cardboard and silver Christmas wrapping paper replete with sparkling snowflakes- a gift to himself that he hadn’t yet opened. He stood on the concrete walkway with his keys digging into the palm of his hand. The booze, the box, or the bike?
He’d been off the hard booze for a while now, and he wasn’t ready for the box. He turned around and strode to the BarelyHarley and swung his leg over the side. He kicked it to start and revved the engine a few times, warming it up. He backed it up out of driveway and aimed it at the street. Right about now he could probably use a helmet, he realized, but then again if he was going to wipe out, maybe it was best not to survive it.
He hit the highway at sixty and threaded through traffic until it thinned out to just a few stragglers. The night sky was littered with stars, easily visible now that the lights of city were so far behind him. He’d bought Hope a star just after she was born, one of those silly internet things with a “deed” -more or less- and her name on it. As much as he’d wanted kids of his own, he didn’t know a damn thing about them. A star seemed as good a gift as anything else he could think of, which was not much given his inexpertise. He tried but couldn’t pick out the one that was hers, but he’d written it down for when she got older and wanted to see it for herself.
He still wasn’t sure about motorcycles in general. He’d ridden a few times before he’d enlisted. He’d liked it well enough, and the freedom was exhilarating. Then, after Iraq, he’d been almost rooted in place, fighting off panic at the thought of being trapped in a vehicle as the other members of his unit had been. He recalled the freedom of the bike, but the idea of nothing protecting him from other vehicles or the road had been equally terrifying. He could tolerate either type of vehicle at this point, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever actually like them. At this point driving anything was just a way to get from point A to point B, not something he enjoyed the way he used to.
By the time he reached the Badlands the moon was hanging over it. He parked the bike and walked to the edge of the scrub where the ground started to get rockier and eventually gave way to canyons beyond. He didn’t know how he felt about this place, the sterile wasteland that seemed both beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Slick and Shooter had gotten married here, right on this spot. Easy had never seen two people happier. Tildy had almost died near here, violently, and her smile dimmed just a bit any time they rode out here for a picnic. Easy figured the Badlands were just like life, embodying both the best moments and some fucking horrific ones.
He wondered, not for the first time, if all his best moments might be behind him.
Chapter 11
Daisy was in the kitchen when Abby came in behind her. “He left!” she told them.
Sarah sighed and shook her head. Daisy bit her lower lip. She hated being the cause of all this strife in this obviously close group of friends. She scraped her thumbnail on the granite countertop. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “Maybe I should go.”
“No!” Sarah replied, turning to face her. “No way. This is his problem. I don’t know what’s going on with him. This is pretty douchey even for him, but whatever this is, it’s his problem. Not yours. You’re more than welcome here, Daisy. Really.”
“I didn’t think it was such a big deal,” Daisy admitted.
Sarah shook her head again. “Me, neither,” she said. “I can’t understand it. I mean, no offense Daisy, but Jimmy’s been around the block more than a few times.”
Abby snorted. “More like around the country. Very possibly internationally.”
Daisy grimaced. Being one of a few was okay; being one of hundreds was a bit disheartening, even if she didn’t like him that much.
“So, whatever this is,” Sarah told Daisy, “it’s not you.” She grabbed a stack of bowls and handed them to Daisy. “We’re going to have a nice dinner and take the boys’ money afterwards. If Jimmy doesn’t want to join us, well, that’s not exactly anything new to me.”
She nodded as much to herself as the other women in the room and ushered Daisy and Abby into the dining room to set the table. Daisy was surprised when the men wandered in and lent a hand. She deliberately chose a seat as far from Caleb as she could get. Even if this didn’t work out long-term, she could get a hot meal and maybe make some money at the same time. Losing a little bit, as long as she still had a good time, would be fine as well. A few hours later, her stomach was pleasantly stuffed, and her wallet was hot on its heels.
“Read ‘em and weep, gentlemen,” Daisy she as she laid down her small straight.
“God damn it,” Tex growled and threw down his own cards. “Okay. That’s it. New rule. No women at the table. Period.”
“Oh, hey now,” Hawk argued, and gripped Tildy, who was sitting perched on his lap, a little tighter around the waist. “I need my good luck charm.”
Daisy smiled. Apparently Tildy couldn’t play for shit, but she was nice, if not a little sheltered, it seemed. She blushed at everyone’s off-color jokes.
“Well, they can’t play,” Tex ordered. “They’re all too damn good.” He eyed Daisy across the table. “Your sleeves aren’t long enough to stuff cards in them,” he observed. “Where’d you learn to play like that?”
Daisy laughed. “Ricky Snell’s basement. And you had to learn fast,” she told him. “‘Cause Ricky had a rule of his own: Only Strip Poker.”
Tex snorted. “Typical Ricky.”
Daisy laughed again. She had to admit that for guys who’d undoubtedly seen the worst of what humanity had to offer, they’d sure held on to their own. Even Easy, who may have lost a good bit of his sense of humor (assuming he’d ever had one to begin with), cuddled Sarah and Shooter’s baby in a way told her that somewhere in there was a decent guy.
“So I had to stop losing fast,” Daisy told them. “Because there was no way I was sitting around bare assed in a crowded room.”
Abby sipped her martini and nodded. Thankfully, she’d sat out this round, because the girl had skills of her own. “I can relate,” she said. “With Adam looking down at my ass for over an hour. Not comfortable.”
“Who’s Adam?” Tildy asked.
Tex leaned toward her. “Yes,” he said. “I think I need to know who Adam is, too.”
Abby blushed. “The tattoo artist.”
Tex’s jaw flinched. Apparently he hadn’t given too much thought at this point about exactly how that tat ended up on his girlfriend’s ass.
“Whew, yeah,” Daisy agreed. “I don’t know if it’s better or worse for a semi-toothless guy named Old Joe with a ZZ Top beard to be looking or a guy as fine as that.”
“I still want a tattoo,” Tildy announced as she wrinkled her nose. “But I don’t want a guy looking at my ass, toothless or hot.”
Hawk looked at her, perplexed. “Why do you need a tattoo?”
Tildy shrugged and sipped her beer. “I just want one.”
Hawk groaned and rolled his eyes. “You don’t need a tattoo. And especially not one on your ass. And doubly especially if a hot guy is going to be giving it to you.”
“I’m still trying to get over the idea of a hot guy looking at my woman’s ass,” Tex grumbled.
“It’s okay, baby,” Abby said, leaning into him. “I don’t need any more tattoos. Plus, he’s totally into Daisy.”
Daisy rolled her eyes and looked away. “We were just talking shop. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Wait a minute,” Tex said, shifting in his chair. “Is this the scraggly guy at
the bar the other day?”
“He’s not scraggly!” Daisy and Abby protested at the same time.
Daisy held on to her indignation, but Abby backed down. “Not that I care,” she said quietly.
“Damn right, you don’t,” Tex told her.
Even Daisy shivered at the tone in his voice.
“What are you going to do with all your dough, Daisy?” Sarah asked, rocking the baby in her arms.
Daisy tugged at the hem of her t-shirt. “Well, for starters I need more clothes. I don’t have that many, and I don’t want to spend any more time in that sorry excuse for a laundry room at the Rainbow than I have to.”
Sarah wrinkled her nose. “Oh, God I know. The dryer-”
“Doesn’t even work,” Daisy told her.
“Really? It was on its last legs when I lived there. Can’t say I’m surprised it finally gave out or that she didn’t replace it.”
“You lived there?”
Sarah nodded. “For a while, when I first came to town. It’s awful, and so’s the landlady. She tried to charge me for hooking in my room. As if I’d do that!”
Daisy plucked at her shirt again, recalling that the old lady tried to charge her, too. She felt a little better knowing it probably happened to everyone at that place.
“We can go shopping this weekend,” Abby suggested. “Tildy and I are off.”
“You work together?” Daisy asked, looking back and forth between the two. “I mean,” she asked Tildy, “you work for her.”
“Yeah,” Tildy replied. “I quit my job last year. Just kind of walked away from it, no plan, nothing.”
“What kind of job?” Daisy asked, curious.
“I worked at my parent’s bank,” she mumbled.
“Wow,” Daisy replied. “That’s like a real job. Like a career.”
Tildy shrugged. “It wasn’t for me. And my parents are, well, they’re just...” She waved her hand dismissively.
Daisy nodded. “Yeah, I can probably relate to shitty parent stories. Never met my dad, but my mama’s enough for the both of them.”
“But Abby gave me a job,” Tildy said with a smile.
“I didn’t give you a job,” Abby countered. “You got the job.” To Daisy, she said, “Her Spanish is outstanding, so much better than mine. And the sales reports are a breeze for her. She’s going to steal the place out from under me and run it better than I do.”
Tildy blushed but grinned at the same time. “I would,” she said. “But I don’t have a gun.”
“Huh?” Daisy asked, baffled.
Abby shook her head and waved her hand. “God,” she grumbled. “You steal one hotel and they never let you live it down.”
“You, wait,” Daisy said. “You stole a hotel? With a gun?” She tried but failed to understand how that was possible.
Abby shrugged. “Sometimes you gotta go old school on people.”
Daisy stole a look at Caleb, who merely shrugged right alongside the redhead. “I wasn’t there,” he told her.
“Huh,” Daisy said. “Here I was looking to lay low, and I seem to have wandered into a den of thieves.”
“Lay low?” Abby asked, grinning. “Are you a wanted woman?”
Daisy’s cheeks flushed. “No,” she protested a little too loudly. “I just- despite the tattoos, I’m not much of a lawbreaker,” she told them, not making eye contact with Caleb.
Abby laughed. “Me, neither.”
“Except for breaking and entering,” Hawk chimed in.
Daisy gaped at her new friend.
“Doesn’t count!” Abby protested and jabbed a finger at Tex. “It was his house!”
“We try,” Tex drawled, “to stay on the right side of the law, as long as it’s convenient.”
“Good to know,” Daisy replied.
She helped clear the table and set the dishes in the dishwasher as Sarah rearranged the fridge to accommodate the leftovers.
“So, you guys really are a family,” Daisy observed. “You all work with each other. Or... for each other.”
Sarah glanced over her shoulder and nodded. “Mostly ‘with,’ but yep.”
“For me family’s just me and mama, and most of the time it doesn’t feel like family at all.”
“You’re not born into a family, Daisy,” Sarah told her. “You choose one. And you fight like hell for them. Sometimes with them,” she admitted. “But mostly for them.”
“No one’s ever fought for me,” Daisy admitted.
Sarah considered this at length and then said, “Fight for them. If they’re worth it, then eventually they’ll come around.”
Chapter 12
Easy caught sight of Sarah’s SUV pulling into the lot and frowned as she stalked across the lot. She had lunch with her but no Hope. Tex went out to meet her, but instead of letting him help her she shook her head, glaring past the older man’s shoulder and right at Easy himself.
He grimaced. He knew he wouldn’t get away with his tantrum last night. Slick never let him get away with anything. She was determined and unscrupulous to boot. So far, she’d nearly run over him and his mailbox, broke into his house and painted it, and once offered him a loaded .45 to put himself out of his misery.
The woman played fast and loose with the rules of polite society when it came to her family, and Easy had no doubt that for all the times that they’d locked horns Sarah Sullivan was as much his sister as Chris was his brother.
And now it was time to pay the piper- especially if he ever wanted to eat again. Tildy invited him over for dinner sometimes, but she’d been raised high-class with a family chef, and he only accepted her invitations out of politeness. Slick’s cooking, on the other hand, was as close to God’s Heaven as you could get on this green Earth. He sighed and put down the fan belt he was holding.
Without a word she slammed a few Tupperware containers into his arms. He took them and followed her into the break room. As he passed by he saw the corner of Shooter’s mouth turn up into a lopsided grin. Easy glared at him, but kept a steady pace toward the chopping block.
“Where’s the nugget?” he asked, lightly setting the containers on the table.
Sarah responded by slamming the door. “With Tildy,” she told him. “I can’t kick your ass with a baby in my arms.”
Easy mashed his lips together. She was pissed, and it wouldn’t do to laugh at her right now. A few months ago, at Shooter’s request, Easy had given her some self-defense lessons, the idea being that she could actually get away from potential danger in the future without having to resort to killing. She wasn’t bad, truthfully, for a female and a civilian, but she couldn’t take down an ex-Army Ranger, no matter how many lessons she had.
She didn’t seem to know it, though, because she marched right up to him and shoved his shoulder. Even with the leg, Easy didn’t budge, but he had the good sense to look appropriately chastised.
“What the hell is going on with you?” she asked.
“I’m sorry,” he told her, skirting the question. “I just didn’t expect to see her there.”
“Oh, no, Jimmy Turnbull,” she snapped. “We’re way past that. You screwed her in the bathroom, and I worked there so I know just how disgusting that it. Daisy is better than that, and so are you, if you somehow woke up with your head up your ass and didn’t realize it. The bathroom? Jesus Christ! And cheating on Brenda- what the hell? She was-”
“She wasn’t my girlfriend,” Easy replied. He was a little irritated that Slick was up in his business, but he was trying hard to keep his cool. “It isn’t cheating if you’re not together.”
Slick crossed her arms in front of her chest. “So, why aren’t you together?”
Easy’s eyes narrowed, and he scowled. “Just didn’t work out.”
“Bullshit! You’d better tell me what happened.”
Easy shook his head, finally having had enough of this conversation and said, “I don’t need lunch.” He started to move past her, but she stepped in front of him.
“Don’t ever,” she warned him. “I know where you work, and I have the key to your place. I will dog you all day every day for the rest of forever until you talk to me.”
Easy was determined not to get angry again. It would only piss off Shooter, who no doubt had one ear cocked, listening for any sounds of trouble.
“This is none of your business, Sarah,” he said quietly. “This is my life.”
He fully expected her to shout, throw something at him, or even throw a punch. Instead her face crumpled, her shoulders sagged. God damn it if that didn’t eat through all his anger.
“You were okay,” she said quietly. “You were getting better. That was the deal!” she said pushing at him again. He let her. “We were going to get better. Both of us. I’m happy. You’re supposed to be happy.” She stopped fighting him and wiped tears from her eyes.
When Easy had discharged from the VA assisted living and settled officially in Rapid City, he and Sarah, despite having survived very different traumas, were the only ones not on the road to... Easy didn’t know if you could exactly recover from the shit they’d been through, but you could move beyond it to a better place. For the most part, Shooter, Hawk, Tex, and Doc had already found their way there. Only Slick and Easy were still stuck, unable to go back yet too damaged to move forward.
Sarah fell in love with Chris and decided there was nothing left to do but start healing, and she’d dragged Easy, kicking and screaming, along with her. She had been determined to save them both from themselves.
“We were better,” she whispered and Easy could see how much it hurt her to think she was losing him.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close. She sagged against him, her tears wetting his shirt. “I’m better,” he assured her.
She made a noise of protest, but he squeezed her tighter. “I am,” he insisted. “Brenda wasn’t the one.”
