Fury

by Cat Porter

  “Keep going,” I said, swinging our hands, blinking back the wetness that gathered in my eyes.

  “You’re the best and the most beautiful and the hottest. And you need to get out more.”

  “Here we go again. I went out, didn’t I? Just because I don’t want a relationship doesn’t mean that I don’t—”

  “I know, but hey, hey—TMI!” Laughing, he kissed my hand. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

  “I will.” I kissed his hand back. That was something I’d started between us when I’d walk him to elementary school, and before I’d let go, I’d always kiss the hand I was holding. It had remained our little thing. Now that hand was making music, creating a glorious present and a vivid future.

  I let go of his hand. “You go kick ass, Beck Lanier.”

  “That’s what you taught me, Lenore Lanier. And that’s what I do.”

  I held his steady gaze, clear and crystalline in the stark light of the airport. He was confident, he had no ghosts hounding him, no bloody specters looming over him, no reasons to look over his shoulder.

  I smiled. Grateful, knowing in my bones that I had done good. “Love you, baby.”

  He passed me my carry-on suitcase. “I know,” he said, his voice low. “Love you, too.”

  I stroked the side of his face one last time, and with my heart up my throat, got in line at security and took in a long, deep breath.

  I got home to Meager late that night and texted Beck right away that I’d arrived in one piece. I showered, changed into my favorite satiny slip nightgown and matching robe, and poured myself a glass of red wine. On my iPad, I hit the new playlist Beck had put together for me. Aretha’s gorgeous “This Bitter Earth” swelled in the room, and I grinned, letting out a sigh.

  My boy knew me well.

  With a sip of wine warming my insides, I curled up on my sofa and went through my cell phone messages and email.

  —Hey, pretty lady. When you’re back and conscious, give me a call—

  Tricky.

  Tonight I was exhausted and a little sad and really didn’t want company. I only wanted quiet to catch up with myself. I’d call him tomorrow.

  I scrolled down and clicked on a text from my essential oils manufacturer about an upcoming delivery. I was now creating a line of perfumed oils along with shampoo, body wash, and candles, and I’d been waiting on this French lavender delivery for a while now.

  I scrolled.

  A text from Grace.

  — Welcome home! Tomorrow night is Ladies Night at Tingle and we’re all going. You can’t say no since you missed my baby shower! Last outing for Jill too! Mwah! —

  Ha. That Ladies Night at the club’s strip joint had been in the works for a long while, and now it was finally happening. Jill’s due date was coming up in a month, Grace’s baby would finally be here. I smiled to myself as I tucked my feet under my legs on the sofa and texted back:

  — Wouldn’t miss it for the world! Let me know what time xoxo —

  I was sure Tania would be there. Grace and I had shared a few phone calls while I was in California. She had told me about Tania finally leaving her husband and having moved back to Meager for good.

  I shut off my phone and tossed it to the other end of my low sofa. I pulled out the pins from my hair, shaking it free as Otis Redding crooned. In LA, I’d gotten my hair dyed black with thick streaks of blue and mauve. I lit my fig candle on my Mexican carved wood coffee table, and zoned out on the sofa with my wine, a small bowl of almonds, and Otis, Al Green, Marvin Gaye, Nina Simone for company. Bliss.

  The following night I walked into the Tingle on the outskirts of Meager just after ten o’clock. I spotted the Jacks’ women the moment I’d stepped inside the nightclub. Mary Lynn, Suzi, Dee, Nina, and Alicia were there, as well as Grace and another woman with black hair. It was her. Those big and dark exotic eyes of Tania’s were unforgettable.

  My heart thudded in my chest as I snaked my way through the tables, the electro pop music thumping through the cavernous room.

  “Lenore!” Grace hugged me.

  “I finally made it. The traffic was really bad on the way over here,” I said on a throaty laugh. “And there’s a line outside.”

  “Lenore, this is Tania. And, Tania, this is Lenore, who has the lingerie store in town you love so much—Lenore’s Lace. Finally, you two get to meet.”

  Tania was riveted to the spot. She raised her chin and made a great effort at an effortless smile. “Lenore?” she asked, a tentative quality to her voice.

  “Yes.”

  She grinned wide. “Grace has told me so much about you. I love your store.”

  Tania, my protective soul sister. That hadn’t changed. Grace’s face was rosy, her eyes literally sparkling. She was thrilled that we were finally meeting.

  “Oh, thanks,” I replied. “It’s good to meet you, Tania. Finally. Grace has told me a lot about you, too. Congrats on your art gallery slash antiques store. When are you opening?”

  Tania’s lips curved up.

  We were smooth. Yes, we were.

  “Next month, hopefully,” Tania replied.

  Tricky came up on my side, and slung an arm around my neck, planting a firm kiss on the side of my face. My eyes remained on Tania.

  “You want a drink, hon?” Tricky asked me.

  I squeezed his arm, shaking my head. We’d spoken earlier, and he’d told me he and the guys would be here to “check things out.”

  Grace laughed. “Geez, Tricky, it’s ladies’ night. We’ve got this covered! Stand off.”

  I flashed Tricky a smile and brushed my lips against his. He pressed against me, cradled my face with both of his hands and deepened the kiss into a tongue fuck, making my spine straighten. He’d missed me.

  “After this pansy show, I’ll be nailing you to the wall, giving you a performance you won’t forget,” he whispered in my ear, a hand sliding down my hip, squeezing. He sauntered back to the bar where all the One-Eyed Jacks were lined up, gripping beer bottles, scanning the club. This nightclub was their second home, yet now they looked more like squirrels trapped in a cage rather than tough dudes on a night out at their local strip club.

  “Oh, look at them all.” Mary Lynn let out a laugh.

  A topless male waiter brought a tray of shots to our table, and Grace and Dee passed them around. Tania remained still, her gaze never leaving me.

  I put my a hand on her elbow. “Nobody knows. Nobody here knows anything about who I really am,” I said, my voice low. “Have you ever said anything to Grace?”

  “No. I didn’t even realize you were here, that you were...you. I’ve had a lot on my plate, and I never put two and two together. Over forty brain block.”

  “Right? I know that one well.”

  “I’ve never said a word to anyone. I’m sticking to that.”

  My eyes shifted around us. “Thank you.”

  “How are you? You look great.”

  “I’m good. Things are very good.”

  “You and Tricky?”

  I shrugged. “We hang out off and on. It’s fun.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Grace told me you’re getting a divorce.”

  “Almost there,” she said.

  “I got myself one of those a while back, and I survived just fine.”

  Tania’s lips twitched into a smirk and something inside me lightened. I’d missed that smirk. I’d missed her.

  We fell into easy conversation, and Tania leaned in to me. “Have you seen...?” she asked in a whisper.

  Finger.

  “No.” My voice came out more clipped than I would have liked.

  “Oh, I have.” Tania’s face reddened, like she’d said something she shouldn’t have.

  My pulse skipped a beat. Grace had told me about their having gone to hi
s clubhouse in Nebraska, about seeing him when Jill and Catch’s daughter has been kidnapped by a biker from another club. I really didn’t want to hear any more about it. Shit never changed. Ever. When you thought things were good, rolling, comfortable, Brutal Reality cut in for his turn with you around the dance floor.

  Another validation for all I had done. Even now.

  I glanced over at Jill. The girl seemed fine, but that shit changes you—your child at the mercy of a psycho, at the mercy of crazed men’s twisted egos and dirty ambitions. She was lucky.

  “You two getting to know each other?” Grace asked, an arm around Tania’s waist.

  I gulped down my cold beer, relishing its icy wash down my hot throat.

  Tania’s electric gaze met mine. “Lenore was just telling me about her divorce.”

  “I was.” I shot her a grin and her eyebrows lifted, accepting my return volley. “Stay away from musicians, Tania, whatever you do. Fuck them, but don’t marry them. Ever.” I raised my drink at her.

  Letting out a laugh, Tania clinked my glass with hers. “Ah, I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “So, what kind of musician was your ex-husband?”

  “He was the lead guitarist for this band called Cruel Fate.”

  “No way! They were huge for a while there. Aren’t they from our parts?”

  “They are. In fact, Grace here played a role in their success,” I replied.

  “Not really.” Grace waved a hand. She explained to Tania how she’d helped the band in their early days by booking them at Pete’s when she used to manage it almost twenty years ago. Tania had missed out.

  Tania raised her glass at me again and smiled. A warm, honest smile, and I returned the gesture. It was good to be with her again, to talk, to laugh, to feel that special vibe we once shared. Very good. We were all home, either reinventing the home of our past like Grace and Tania or, like me and Jill, creating a new one.

  We settled in our seats, Tania next to me.

  “Sort of nuts we haven’t met up sooner, considering,” I said. “I’ve been out of town, but you avoid club events from what Grace has told me.”

  Tania raised an eyebrow. “So do you, from what Grace has told me.”

  “Too many memories of club parties, most of them not very good,” I said. “Let’s hear your excuse.”

  “Ah, it’s nothing. No big deal.”

  “Tania, come on.”

  She licked her lips, and I followed her gaze across the room to the side of the stage where Cassandra stood with Butler, the blond Jacks manager of the Tingle. This man had amazing pale-blue eyes, and when he aimed his rakish grins your way, you felt them jag inside you.

  Tania took in a sharp breath. “Let’s just say, I have a history with a club member, and I made a wrong assumption about him recently, and feel embarrassed and awkward. And stupid.”

  “Butler?”

  “Hmm.”

  “Butler who recently showed up surprising everyone with his new old lady?”

  She batted her sooty eyelashes. “Yep. That’s the one.”

  “Ah.”

  “Ahhhhhhhh,” mouthed Tania, crossing her eyes, raising her drink to her lips.

  “Details another time?”

  “If you want the dirty, then you must ply me with much drink first.”

  “I can do that,” I said, laughing. “I’ll give you a call and we’ll go out.”

  “Now you’re talking.” Tania clinked her glass with mine once again.

  Cassandra got up on stage and spoke on the microphone, welcoming us to the Tingle. She was dressed like the goddess she was in a long, flowing, one shoulder, dark purple dress with a silver, ancient Roman style cuff around her bicep that I’d gotten her for her birthday last month. She introduced the male dancers and the evening officially began.

  One of the dancers came toward our table, his eye on Mary Lynn. But we diverted his attention to Tania, shouting for her to go up on stage with him. She stood up. Dare accepted. She went with him, rolling her eyes, a huge smile on her face. The dancer sat her down on a chair and did his thing, and Tania gave as good as she got. From the stage, she caught my eye and gave me a thumbs up, laughing. A whistle from Butler ripped through the air.

  I clapped and hooted for my girl onstage. Tania, Grace, and I were doing good, and we were here together. Enjoying ourselves, having fun, leading our lives. I sent whoops and cheers up in the air.

  If only that blind euphoria could have lasted a little while longer.

  48

  “I’m sorry. I must be bothering you or interrupting.” Tania’s shaky voice, her tight and shallow breaths set me on edge.

  “Talk to me.” Holding my phone, I charged out of the gas station store, pocketing my change for the energy drink I’d sucked down while waiting in line to pay for it.

  She said, “I’m at the One-Eyed Jacks in Meager. You need to come here—quick.”

  “Tania, what’s wrong?”

  “I need you.”

  My chest tightened at those words, the pleading tone in her voice, the raw emotion seeping through. In all the years that we’d known each other, she’d never once called me for a favor, and now she was in emergency mode late at night at the One-Eyed Jacks?

  “I’ll be there in less than an hour. I’m not too far away.”

  “Hurry.”

  Christ.

  I tried calling Catch, but he didn’t answer his phone. Little shit. He was supposed to be with his daughter at his mother’s house while Jill and Tania were out tonight at a Jacks party. This had to be Catch-related for Tania to call me and ask me to come to their clubhouse, for fuck’s sake. What the hell did he do now?

  Getting on my bike, I called Drac and Slade to drop everything and meet me in Meager. I lit out of the parking lot and made it there in record time. My bros waited for me at the turn off for the Jacks’ property. We rode up to the gate together, and the lone prospect there froze at the sight of us.

  Only one prospect at the gate?

  “What’s going on?” I demanded.

  His mouth opened, but no sounds, no words came out.

  “So we’re clear,” I said, shifting in my saddle. “I got a call from someone in there that I’m needed, and you aren’t gonna stop us from going inside.”

  “Uh...there was a p-party,” said the prospect.

  “What fucking happened?” I said through gritted teeth.

  “It’s Catch,” he spit out. “Catch showed up uninvited.”

  “Fuck, not again,” muttered Drac behind me.

  “Open up,” I said, my fingers flexing around my handlebars.

  The prospect opened the gate, and we followed the gravel path to the wide expansive driveway of what used to be an old go-kart factory. In the field in the middle of the racing track, white and silver balloons bobbed like a sea of moons over empty chairs. Two long tables were covered in platters of picked over food along with a mess of dishes and plastic cups and bottles, abandoned and forgotten. The tablecloths fluttered and snapped in the warm night breeze. An ominous welcome.

  My mind ticked through the possibilities. I doubted Catch was here over his ex. That shit was done. Jill was an official Jack’s old lady now, and he’d been good about visiting his kid without any incidents for the past few months. In fact, he’d been taking extra time off recently to come to Meager and spend more time with his daughter. But during that time, Catch had disappeared early at three different parties back in Nebraska, and I’d noticed he’d been ignoring the girls he usually favored. I figured it had to be a new woman, but one he didn’t want to bring around to the club.

  This smelled familiar.

  My body pressing through the battering, icy wind, my pulse beating hot and wild at the sight of the “Welcome To Illinois The Land of Lincoln” sign.

  Staring at her profile in a movie t
heater, her hand in the popcorn, mine between her legs.

  Breathless kisses in musty hotel room beds, desperate poundings against bathroom tile.

  Urgent whispers sweeping away nightmares.

  Every chance I got I’d run off to Chicago to be with Serena. Had Catch found a woman here in Meager? If he was keeping her a secret from us, was it some woman connected to the Jacks?

  Me, Drac, and Slade headed into the Jack’s clubhouse. We passed through a dimly lit hallway and reached a noisy main room filled with men and women. All eyes turned to me, and the noise instantly died down. My appearance was obviously a total surprise and not a good one. Their shock, uneasiness, irritation was another rush of caffeine in my blood. I took in a breath, savoring the pulse.

  “Where the fuck is Jump, and don’t make me wait.” My voice boomed through the space.

  People scattered, others froze. Across the room, I zeroed in on Tania standing next to Grace, and I raised my chin at her. Tania’s shoulders dropped a fraction, but her body visibly tensed. She was relieved to see me yet remained anxious as hell.

  Jump moved toward me, a hard smirk on his face. The host of tonight’s festivities was clearly enjoying himself.

  I didn’t give him a chance to open his mouth. I didn’t want explanations just yet. I wanted to make sure my bro was okay.

  “Where’s Catch?” I said. A demand, not a question. The room cleared quickly.

  “You don’t teach your boys any manners?” One side of Jump’s thick lips curled under that full beard and mustache. Still the arrogant prick.

  Fuck, I hate this asshole.

  Time hadn’t erased the venom seeping through my blood at the sight of him, the sound of his voice, his inciting turns of phrase. For now though, I would be the diplomat.

  “This is unfortunate,” I said.

  “Unfortunate?” Jump said on a growl, shooting Butler a smug you-hearing-this-shit-I-told-you-so look.