by Naomi West
She touched her hand to her belly. Even though she wasn't showing yet, she knew her baby was inside her, struggling to live and grow. It was like a seedling, and she had to give it good, healthy soil before it could break the surface and see the light.
Between her landlord invading her space, and now this man Aaron, she knew she couldn't raise her child here. Never. This was poisoned ground, now. She didn't even know if she could stay the night by herself surrounded by these four walls, and she'd be damned if she was going to have Tanner spend the evening with her.
He was the root of this. She may have loved him, and she may have still cared about him. But, none of these things would have happened without him in her life. None of them.
Something needed to change. And that something was Tanner.
Tanner Rainier would still have his baby in nine months, she was sure about that. She'd move mountains and redirect rivers to make sure this child was born safe and healthy, and grew up right.
But, Tanner wouldn't have its mother. Not in a million years, even. Of that, she was just as certain.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Tanner
He'd been furious at first when Star refused to talk to him. Absolutely, brain-jammingly furious that the mother of his own child wouldn't say a single word to him. It had taken everything he had to respect her wishes. Now, he'd just resigned himself that things would happen when they happened.
Now, as he sat in the driveway at his house with Brendon, sipping on some beers and working on an old bike the Blood Warriors had dug up for his younger brother, he still didn't know how to act. It had only been a couple weeks, but she was already gone from that crappy apartment. She and Patricia had moved most of her stuff into storage and packed up what little was left in the dumpster by the side of the road.
“Talked to Star yet?” Brendon asked as he handed a fresh beer to his brother. They'd hit a good stopping point on the bike, and were just taking a break to relax and hang out with each other. Just like siblings did.
“What do you think?” Tanner replied.
“That'd be a 'no,'” as he copped a squat next to him.
Tanner shook his head. “I got a routine now, I guess, which is kinda nice. Saddest fucking excuse for a routine I've ever heard of, though.”
“Oh yeah? What's that?”
“Wake up, get coffee, eat breakfast, work out,” he cracked his beer and took a foamy drink, “ride down to Patricia's and see if she'll talk to me.”
“Every morning?” Brendon said, laughing.
“Every morning. Set your watch by it.”
“Why dude?” his brother asked. “Why would you put yourself through that shit?”
Tanner rolled his eyes. “This coming from the dude who ran off with Willow? You're kidding me, right?”
Brendon laughed. “Nah, I guess you're right. God, that was stupid of me. Stupid of you, too.”
“What's so stupid about me?”
“Man, you need to just cut your losses. Do you think she'll really come back to your sorry ass?”
Tanner set his beer down between his legs. “Know what really gets me?”
“What?”
“I don't know that she will, but I know that she will. Like, if I just keep the faith or some stupid shit like that, she'll let me come back. She'll forgive me, you know?”
“Forgive you? You didn't do anything wrong, man.”
Tanner shrugged. “I didn't protect her. I shouldn't have left that night to go have a meeting with the guys. I should have been there. If I had, Aaron wouldn't have come up on her place like that, busted in and taken her.”
“You couldn't be with her twenty-four-seven, Tanner,” Brendon replied, sighing. “He would've just come back the next night.”
“You don't know that,” Tanner said. “You don't know, because we only know about that one night.”
“Well, that's beside the point. Shit happens.”
Tanner took a drink of beer. “How about you?” he asked, changing the subject. “You doing any better?”
“Almost a month clean now, I think.”
“You craving it still?”
Brendon shrugged. “I think about it sometimes, you know. But, no, not craving it. Every time I think about it, I just remember how awful everything surrounding it was. The homelessness, the stealing, the sleeping in alleys. Shuts out a lot of the memories, then. Reminds me how awful the rest of life became because of it.”
Tanner nodded beside his brother. “Talked to Willow?”
Brendon laughed. “No! Thank fucking God, too. I pray that bitch never shows up at Mom's house.”
“Why not?”
“Cause Mom'll claw her eyes out, and we'll have to figure out how to get blood out of the front entry way.”
Tanner had a good laugh at that one.
“How about joining up?” Tanner asked as he grabbed his younger brother's shoulder. “You still looking at it?”
“Becoming a recruit again?” Brendon asked. “I dunno. I mean, I let you and mom, and all you guys, down once already. With you, it was twice as bad. I just don't know if I can handle something like that again.”
“Then don't let us down,” Tanner said, grinning. “Easy as that.”
“Easy enough for you to say. But the doing part? That's where it gets hard.”
“Look,” Tanner said, pausing so he could think about how exactly he wanted to word things, “it's like this. You've got all the distractions out of your life now. Willow's gone, the drugs are gone. You got me, you got mom, you got yourself. What else is there? You wanna get a shitty job working retail somewhere?”
“No,” Brendon said, and took another drink of beer. “I don't know what I want.”
“Well, come on, man.Bbike's almost done. We'll have you up and going in no time flat. Once you get on it, you'll remember what the good old days were like. The feel of the wind in your hair, the sun on your face.”
Brendon grinned. “The way the women look at you.”
Tanner laughed, but then his smile began to fade as he thought of the way Star used to look at him. The way she'd held onto him. The way she'd clung to him at night in bed. The way she felt in his arms, so warm and perfect.
He might not have that again from her. He just took another sip of beer.
His brother noticed the look on his face. “Sorry, man. I didn't mean to -”
Tanner waved him off. “No, you're fine, man. Let's just talk about something else, okay?”
“You wanna run down to the Crow? Kick back a couple beers?”
Tanner shook his head. “Nah, man. I got some stuff I need to work on back here for the night.”
“Cool, dude,” Brendon said. “Guess I'm gonna head out, then.”
They both got up and hugged, clapping each other on the back.
“Be strong, man,” Brendon said. “She'll come back.”
“That's what I keep telling myself.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Star
She lay in her new bedroom at Patricia's place, reading and rereading the same passage in her book. The words didn't seem to want to sink in, though, and she finally just dropped the novel on her chest. It wasn't the book’s fault. It was Tanner Rainier'. He was what kept messing up her train of thought, her focus.
She'd only been living at Patricia's for a while. And, honestly, it was nicer than when she'd been living alone. Sure, Patricia was gone most days for work, like she was today, but at least she had Patricia's cat to keep her company.
Sort of.
Mr. Wiggles was a cat, after all. He kind of ignored anything and everything unless he wanted to be played with, or fed. Most of the time, he just slept on the couch or perched at the top of his cat tree and watched the world go by.
Oh, to have the life of a cat. That would be a sweet setup. No biker boys, no psychos stalking you and kidnapping you just so they could terrorize your man by leaving you out in the forest.
Memories of that night loomed back u
p in her mind. Memories of his crappy old car, the stale stench of cigarettes, the feel of the blindfold over her eyes.
She shivered despite the warmth of the room.
They came and went, the memories. They stayed locked away most of the time. But, occasionally, they'd resurface for no reason, like now. Little bits and pieces that would just take over her whole world.
Star got up from the bed and put her slippers on, then shuffled out into the kitchen. She grabbed some coffee and checked the time. Geez, it was almost noon, already. She'd barely done anything with herself all day long, just laid in bed trying unsuccessfully to read her new book. Even that, she couldn't get done right.
How hard was reading, anyways?
She took a sip of the stale coffee and grimaced. She needed to stop waiting so long to get up.
She had a list of other things she needed to do, too. Get a job, for one. And with the baby on the way, Juicy Lucy’s was off the table. Maybe she could get another temp job. Maybe, almost a month later, people would be hiring.
She shook her head at her naiveté and sighed. Nothing would have changed in the last month. This was a smaller town, and just not as many jobs as there used to be.
Seemingly out of the blue, Patricia's doorbell rang.
Her apartment was far enough back from the parking lot and the main road. Star hadn't been able to pick up the sound of Tanner's bike on any of the daily trips he'd made. But, still, she was pretty sure it was him.
She just took another sip of coffee as he began to knock on the door for a few seconds.
She didn't budge from the kitchen. She didn't head back to her bedroom, to hide her head under the covers like she wanted. She had no illusions that this would somehow all just disappear. But, she had her hopes. Maybe, he'd just forget about her. Or, she'd forget about him.
Then, a few months from now, she could just show up on his doorstep with a chubby-cheeked little baby and a birth certificate.
“Here you go, Mr. Rainier,” she'd say as she handed the document over. “Proof that you have a child. Now cut me a check and let me move on with my life.”
Then, he'd give her a cashier's check for five-hundred grand, and they'd call it a day. No, they'd call it a life. An entire life. She'd move away from this godforsaken town, maybe go out to the west coast. Some place she could feel the ocean breeze on her face, and she could dip her toes in the water as she thought of better days.
But, who was she kidding? She didn't have many “better days.” Not many more than what she'd spent with Tanner, at least. Those had been good days. Riding behind him on his bike, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. And, then, of course, there was always the time between the sheets. Or how honest he was, how he didn't dress anything up, or mince words with her.
She set her coffee aside, realization setting in. She wanted him. She wanted him badly. But, she didn't think she could handle this life of his. Break ins? Fights in the street? She hadn't been built for this kind of thing.
Of course, though, maybe she was wrong about herself. Maybe she could handle it? Maybe, in a world like his, you just had to expect that sometimes things were going to happen, things outside your control. And that, what really measured and tested you was how you dealt with what couldn't be handled.
Did you break? Or did you bend like the willow in the wind?
Chapter Thirty-Six
Tanner
“This the place?” Tyke asked.
“Look like it,” Tanner said. “At least, I think it is.”
The two men were pulled up in front of Aaron's childhood home. Rather, it was as far as Tanner could remember. He hadn't been overly close with the Roaming Wolf when they were kids, so he thought he remembered being over here one time or another.
The house itself was a rundown shack. Ten or fifteen years before, it might have been presentable. But, not anymore. The paint was peeling off in giant strips, and it looked like a branch had taken out an eve at one point and exposed some rotten wood in the beams. A small front porch stood at the front, with a busted porch swing hanging by one chain on one end.
“Well, let's go see who's home,” Tyke said as he swung his leg over his chopper.
Together, the two men ambled up to the front steps.
“Goddammit!” Tyke yelped. He must have stepped wrong, because the board on the second step snapped with a sickening crunch, plunging his leg down almost to the knee.
“Just a busted board,” Tanner said as he offered a hand to pull him back out. “Come on, now.”
Tyke got up out of the hole with Tanner's help. As he was bent over brushing wooden splinters off his jeans and boots, he glanced up and caught Tanner's eye. “You getting like a Texas Chainsaw vibe off this place?”
“A little. If they invite us in, don't sit in the leather chairs.”
“Especially if it has a face on it. Got it.”
They turned back to the front door, a plain, unpainted wooden one with no windows. They tried the buzzer that was installed to the right of it, but there was no sounds of chimes or bells inside, so they just knocked.
A minute or so later, they heard bustling inside the house. Slow, deliberate movement. “Just a minute,” an older-sounding woman said from the other side.
Whoever it was on other side flipped some deadbolts and pulled back the chain before answering the door. She was a wizened, bespectacled, little old woman, easily in her seventies, that only came up to Tanner's chest.
“Hello?” she asked, peering up at them. “May I help you?”
Tanner and Tyke both looked at each other knowingly. They must have gotten the wrong house.
She squinted her eyes and leaned forward a little, maybe to better focus on them. Then, she decided that wasn't working, and moved backwards. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I see your vests! Are you Aaron's friends?”
Both men exchanged glances again, with Tyke having an undeniable little grin on his lips.
Tanner turned to the little old woman, smiling as pleasantly as he could. “Yes, ma'am, we are. We were actually wondering if you could help us find Aaron?”
“Oh, that nephew of mine,” she said with a long sigh. “Always running off and disappearing. He doesn't tell me anything anymore. Not that he ever did, mind you. But the occasional call wouldn't be too much to ask for, would it?”
“No, ma'am,” Tyke said, shaking his head vigorously. “We feel the exact same. We've been looking for him for days now, but he's not even answering his phone.”
“Well,” she said after a moment, “I know he had been staying with some girlfriend of his, just until he got his own place. I don't necessarily approve of those kind of living arrangements, of course, but these modern kids and their ways still astound me. Why, back in my day, that kind of behavior just wasn't appropriate for proper individuals to engage in.”
“Do you remember this girlfriend's name?” Tanner asked. “Or where she was living?”
“Ashley, I think. No last name, I'm afraid.”
Tyke looked at him, eyebrow raised. “Do we know any Ashleys?” his facial expression said.
Tanner thought he knew of one, a girl who drank at the Old Crow sometimes. He knew she ran with bikers most of the time, but wasn't exclusive to any of the clubs in the area. Early twenties, cute in a trashy kind of way. He figured she'd be as good a place to start as any, and could probably start the hunt for her down at the Crow.
“Does that help you?” Aaron's aunt asked. “Will that help you boys find my nephew?”
“I think it will, ma'am,” Tanner said, a fake smile plastered on his face. “Have a wonderful day, now.”
She beamed at her ability to help out the two nice, young men. “You too, dearie. Have a blessed day.”
They were down off the porch and back onto their bikes in no time.
“Crow?” Tyke asked.
“Yep,” Tanner said. “Jethro can probably get us in touch with the girl. Then we can start there.”
# # #
They parked in the lot in front of the Regal, a roach motel of the highest order, and hopped off their bikes. It was one of those open-court styles, a single level with all the rooms facing out to the parking lot. A broken neon sign flashed on and off, advertising M-NTHLY RMS FOR RENT.
Jethro, after a few well-placed phone calls, had led them to this place in search of Ashley. Apparently, she'd been staying in one of the rooms for the last few months. Together, the two men ambled down the sidewalk to her place.
