Ridin' Dirty: An Outlaw Author Anthology (OAMC Book 1)

by Blue Remy

  Not bad for a Friday night.

  I was almost to my goal and I knew I would make at least another five hundred over the next few days. I’d found a little place just outside the city limits that would make a perfect home for us. I already had the deposit money to give the owner on Monday morning, then a week to get the place furnished and ready for the boys. I hated that I was away from them but being so close to my goal eased some of the ache in my heart. It wouldn’t be long now.

  After saying goodnight to everyone, I left the Jumpstart and walked the three blocks to the motel I’d been living in. I couldn’t afford to spend money on gas so my car hadn’t moved in the weeks since I’d checked in. Not even to visit the boys. It was too hard to see them and not be able to take them with me. I also couldn’t handle the questions and the agony of saying goodbye to them—again. While a month may seem like a short amount of time, to me it felt like an eternity.

  Zipping up my denim jacket, I wrapped the long strap of my purse around my shoulder and started the trek. This was a lower class area of the city and probably wasn’t the safest place to be walking late at night but I always kept my head down and moved at a fast pace. Nobody ever bothered me and I was grateful for that.

  The streets were mostly vacant with just a couple of gas stations, some abandoned buildings and a worn out looking dry cleaning business on one corner. There was a twenty-four-hour diner across from the motel where I sometimes stopped to grab a bite after work. The little diner had charming fifties-style theme and reminded me of home. Haventown had always been a few decades behind in the times.

  After climbing the stairs to my room on the second floor, I unlocked the door, threw my bag on the bed and headed directly for the shower. After washing the daily grime and liquor smell away, I felt more relaxed. It was exhausting to be “on” all the time. Being chatty and flirty was my job but after a busy Friday night, I couldn’t care if I ever spoke another word again.

  I went to the air-conditioning unit by the window, unscrewed the vent cover, then grabbed the envelope where I’d been keeping all of my saved money. Picking up my bag, I dug around for the night’s tips. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed several bills scattered across the floor. Confused, I inspected my purse and discovered a three-inch-long split in the seam. Panic set in as I gathered all the money from the bottom of the bag. After counting it several times then dumping everything out onto the floor, I sat back on my knees trying to process it all. Only seventy-two dollars of my two hundred and eleven was left.

  Desperately, I jumped up and ran outside, barefoot and wearing a thin, oversized t-shirt that just reached my knees. I scanned the area like a hawk for any sign of my money but it was too dark to see. The pathetic lights in front of the motel didn’t help for shit.

  I jogged a little further down the road and saw a few five dollar bills blowing in the wind. I quickly grabbed them and walked a little further. It wasn’t until I could see a group of guys standing at the end of the street did I stop. That is when I realized I was alone outside in only a t-shirt in a terrible part of town at three o’clock in the morning.

  “Hey!” Someone shouted from the group, and a few others began to whistle. Quickly, I turned around and went as fast as my feet would carry me without full on running. The motel overnight clerk stepped from the office just as I was scurrying by.

  “Annette?” he called out. “Are you okay?” Joe had always been nice to me, a bit shifty looking, but nice. I turned around and saw the genuine concern on his face.

  “Y-yeah, I-I’m okay.” I croaked, suddenly aware of the tears streaming down my face and soaking the collar of my t-shirt.

  “You sure? You don’t look like you are. Can I help?”

  I knew I wouldn’t be able to find all of that money and Joe couldn’t do anything to help me. So instead, I shook my head, “No, but thank you.” Then made my way up the stairs, holding the sobs in until I was inside my room with the door securely locked behind me.

  The worst part is that I knew the damn seam was coming loose and I was too cheap to spend the money on a new purse or, at least, a sewing kit to mend it. Stupid. I didn’t know why I never followed common sense sometimes. It would have saved me so much heartache and tears.

  Now what the hell was I going to do? The money I’d made over the past three weeks went mostly to the motel bill and sending Mama something each week to help care for the boys. Before I could bring them with me I needed to buy basic furniture like beds, and make sure there was food in the cabinets. Until tonight, I was on track to do all of that.

  The realization that I only had a week to come up with nine hundred dollars made my heart sink. Five hundred was attainable, even seven hundred if I busted my butt, but not nine. Sometimes I wondered if Mama was right. Am I going to be able to care for my kids? Hell, I couldn’t even be bothered to sew up a hole that would’ve kept my money safe. How in the world was I going to look after me and them—alone?

  I fell asleep that night full of worry and self-doubt. I knew I was strong but even the mightiest of spirits had moments of weakness.

  Chapter Five

  7 days and counting...

  “Yee-haw! Atta boy!” I shouted as the customer threw back his shot of Jack. The night’s theme was Wild West. Donnie had given me a tray of signature shots he’d named ‘six shooters’ and sent me into the crowd. While the short-shorts, pigtails, and a cowgirl hat were required costume attire for the night, all I wanted to do was throw on my big t-shirt and crawl into bed. It was taking everything I had to not let worry consume me. I was trying my damnedest to be optimistic, but it was hard.

  I’d been on my feet since ten in the morning when the club opened. I came in early and begged a few of the daytime acts to go home as well as the evening cocktail waitress. Even with all the effort, I hadn’t made anything close to my goal. It turned out Wild West wasn’t all that popular. In fact, it was dead for a Saturday night. With only a few more hours left I was trying my best to work the generosity of the regular customers a little harder.

  “What do you mean, you can’t make it?” Donnie shouted as I passed by his office in search of more six-shooter shots. “Your set starts in thirty minutes! You’d better find a replacement fast or you’re permanently off the lineup, Lacey.” Then he slammed down the receiver and called out, “Annette? Annette, was that you?” I paused and took two steps back until I was standing in his doorway.

  “Yeah?” I replied hesitantly. The way his gazed traveled over me and rested on my midriff which was left exposed by the plaid shirt I tied above my waist had me feeling a little uncomfortable. I swear I could see the wheels turning in his head and a thought bubble forming.

  “I need a dancer to cover for Lacey. Any suggestions?” The look he gave me made it clear that he was hoping I would suggest myself. Could I get on that stage? I thought about the money I desperately needed to make. Maybe that might be my chance.

  I opened my mouth to speak when H entered the room beside me and cut me off. “Try Misty. She’d asked for extra time this week anyway.” His gaze remained focused on Donnie as I stood there unconsciously admiring his chiseled jaw and the way it twitched just a little. Donnie didn’t seem pleased at all with this idea but nodded his head in compliance anyway.

  “Right. Yeah, I’ll give Misty a try.” Then he pulled out a piece of paper from his desk and started dialing. H grabbed my elbow and gently guided me away.

  “Don’t go down that road.” He said in a low voice.

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “Dancing.”

  “What makes you think I…”

  “Come on. I saw you thinking about it. I’m not sure why, but I get a sense that you aren’t built for that kind of life.”

  “You…I…w-what?” I sputtered, feeling insulted for absolutely no reason. “You know nothing about me and what I’m built to do! I don’t need you or anybody else telling me a damn thing.” When I tried to step away, I realized that he still had a grip on
the back of my upper arm.

  “Annette. I didn’t mean…”

  “I don’t give a shit what you meant but I do want you to let me go.” I interrupted while glaring at him icily.

  “Fine.” H raised both hands in the air and stepped back, allowing me to pass but not before mumbling, “All I’m saying is you’re better than that.”

  I turned around and replied, “Sometimes we don’t have a choice.”

  His brows snapped together quickly and his lips parted to respond but I took off toward the bar before he had time to speak.

  ***

  Normally I didn’t allow men to get too touchy feely with me but after sneaking a couple of tequila shots when nobody was looking, my capacity to give a shit was on low. I had no idea how I was going to come up with the money I needed nor did I have the energy to pry the guy’s fingers off my ass. What was worse, in this position I could also feel his erection against my backside.

  Yeah, enough of that.

  When I tried to step away, he sucked in a sharp breath and tightened his hands around me. His deep voice was husky and slightly breathless against my ear.

  “Careful, baby cakes.” Oh, God. I needed to get away from this guy. I caught sight of H sitting at the corner table and before I could say anything, he was moving in my direction and relief washed over me. When H was within arm’s length, his large hand grabbed mine and with a gentle tug, I was free.

  When we’d made it around the corner and into the empty hallway, he finally spoke, “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

  “Do what?” I stopped walking and he turned to face me.

  “Let those guys put their hands all over you.”

  “I’m just bein’ social. It’s my job.” I replied as I tilted my head way up to look at him. Even as the explanation left my mouth, I didn’t believe it.

  “No, it’s not. You’re a singer, not a...”

  “Not a what?” I placed both hands on my hips and glared at him expectantly.

  He shook his head but didn’t speak.

  “Look, you may think I’m this naïve country girl but you haven’t got the first clue about me, H. You have no idea the responsibilities I have.” He studied me for a few seconds and tilted his head to the side.

  “Tell me then.”

  I rolled my eyes and let out a long sigh, “You don’t want to open up any of this baggage, sugar.”

  “Baggage? You married?”

  I snorted and replied, “Nope, definitely not. Thank God.” Marriage wasn’t Jimmy’s style.

  “Kids?”

  When I kept quiet and glared back at him his eyes went wide.

  “Shit. You have kids?” He asked and leaned forward with his arms crossed in front of him.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “You do, don’t you? Shit.” he shook his head and let his torso rest back against the wall. “Where are they? With the father?”

  “The kids are with my Mama, and their Daddy is dead, I hope.” I replied unapologetically and crossed my arms over my chest as I pictured Jimmy lying on the floor in the kitchen next to the cast iron skillet I used to knock his ass out. After that, I hurried past him carrying both babies out of the door. The fact that no police had come looking for me meant that his death was unlikely.

  “Why? Did he beat you?”

  “No, he didn’t beat me. We fought... with our fists. All the time.”

  “Shit.” He repeated as he ran a hand over his face. The need to explain myself was overwhelming. I was telling him things I’d never told anyone and it was suddenly important to me that he understood my perspective.

  “He got away with smacking me once and after that, I vowed to match him blow for blow. It gets tiring, you know? Kids shouldn’t have to see that, live that kind of life. So I left him.” H remained silent as he stared at me, his expression unreadable but his jaw ticked like crazy.

  “Hey, I’m okay and I can take care of my kids and me just fine.” I offered lightly as a way to change the mood. The look he gave me appeared an awful lot like pity and I couldn’t stand it. The more I allowed myself to dwell in the past, the more depressed I got over my failures as a mother.

  “I have no doubt about that but there is a difference between living and gettin’ by, woman.”

  “All of this,” I waived a hand around me, “is temporary.” It was what I kept telling myself but I really didn’t have much of a plan, if I was going to be honest. The past four years of my life had all fallen under the temporary category. Temporarily homeless, temporarily jobless, yet I was shaping up to be a failure as a permanent mother, too. My shoulders sagged as I thought about how close I was to not being able to pull myself together for my kids.

  H studied me for a moment then looked at his watch. “Listen, it’s dead out there, do you want to get out of here early. Maybe go to the diner down the street and grab something to eat?”

  His voice cut through my thoughts and my stomach picked that moment to growl, incredibly loud.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” He laughed. I thought about another couple of hours of sitting on drunk customers’ laps and trying to make what would probably only amount to a few more bucks. Suddenly going back in there was the last thing I wanted to do.

  “Yeah, I’ll meet you there.” I answered with my lips turning up slightly. It was hard not to smile at him, there was something about being in his presence that lifted my spirits a little.

  ***

  I made it to the diner before he did. I’d already ordered a coffee and was sipping it, wondering if he would show up. That was until I heard the faint rumbling noises of the Camaro from the parking lot. When H stepped inside, he scanned the room before his eyes came to rest on me. A small grin spread across his face and he started toward me. The way he moved across the floor was fluid and sure. Unlike Jimmy, who was always looking over his shoulder or surveying the faces like there might be someone he owed money to in the room. No, H’s intense gaze was focused on me.

  “Hi.” He slid into the booth on the other side of the table then smiled.

  “Hi.” I replied and grinned back.

  We ordered breakfast and made small talk. He asked me about where I was from and my music. It was obvious we were avoiding the topic of my ex and the life I was trying to leave behind. H seemed genuinely interested and let me do most of the talking. He nodded and asked questions. The kind of questions that showed he was paying attention to me and not just looking for a break in the conversation where he could start talking about himself.

  In fact, getting H to share anything about his life was hard. He eventually told me that he grew up in Columbia with his mother and younger sister. He used to be a professional bodybuilder and that Donnie was not only his childhood best friend but also his manager. After winning some big competition, they opened the Jumpstart together three years ago with the prize money. They were equal partners but Donnie ran the business side. H was reluctant to take on a managing role since he had no experience with running a club, so instead, he took on the role of “catch all” and helped in whatever way he could.

  He explained Donnie’s vision for the Jumpstart. It was to be a one-stop spot for niche entertainment or “Something for everyone, every night of the week.” Which was their tag line. At any given time, a customer could find singing acts of all musical styles, exotic and traditional dancers, comedians and other types of unique talents. They weren’t one thing. The goal was to be everything. There was nothing like it in the city and the club was doing well.

  After we’d finished eating, we walked together to the front door of the restaurant.

  “Can I drop you off at home?”

  “No,” I replied, not wanting to share that I was staying at the motel across the street. “I have my, uh, car.” I lied. H gave me a look that made it clear he did not believe a word I was saying.

  “I know you are staying across the street, Annette.”

  “What? How?”

  “How
do you think you’ve made it home every night, in this neighborhood without anyone messing with you?”

  “You’ve been following me?”

  “No, not on purpose… at first. I drove past you one night, and you weren’t that hard to miss. You have no idea how much you stand out in this part of town.” My mind was reeling. He’s been following me home. It was then that I recalled hearing an engine in the distance every time I’d walked home, I kept expecting someone to pass by but never saw a car. I just figured the noise was from the next street over. There I was thinking I’d been taking care of myself while H had been looking after me, too. Instead of feeling insulted, I was grateful.

  “Thank you.” I whispered, looking down at my feet.

  “The world’s too big for you to be carrying on those tiny shoulders, darlin’.” He reached up and grabbed a lock of hair that had fallen over my cheek. “This ain’t Haventown.”

  “I know.” I closed my eyes as his thumb lightly brushed my cheek.

  “Just be careful out here. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Then his touch was gone. I open my eyes in time to see him disappearing around the corner. Crossing the street, I held my breath as I listened to the rumbling of his car engine. When I was inside my room with the door closed, only then did the noise fade away and I exhaled.

  ***

  That night when I pulled open the air vent to add my three hundred and eight dollars to my savings, the entire envelope was gone.

  Chapter Six

  It was just after ten the following morning when I woke to the loud ringing of the phone on the nightstand.

  “Hello.” I croaked, my voice hoarse from crying all night.

  “Annetta? Miss Annetta Andrews?” A woman asked from the other end of the line.

  “Y-yes,” I answered as I sat up and tried to pry my puffy eyes open. “Yes, I’m Annetta. Who is this?”