Enough

by Jade Chandler

  Acid or hate burned in my stomach and I had this urge to punch one of those women, not because they’d offended me, but because they’d have what I’d turned away.

  Shit. Temper, jealousy—will I be wrestling around on the floor in a catfight next? Surveying this crowd, I’m sure it’d be a hit, but I had more control than that. I repeated those words until I no longer wanted to claw my eyes out.

  Instead, I focused on Zayn, who told story after story—funny stories. I finished up my fries and considered just how long I needed to stay before I left. A good question to contemplate in the bathroom. I headed toward the back, thinking my combat boots sounded loud on the dusty wood floor. Rachel gave me crazy eyes, or maybe she was trying to communicate via eyeballs, whichever, it didn’t translate.

  I’d no sooner closed the door into the two-stall bathroom when it opened again. Great. I hated peeing with company. As I glanced back, Rachel leaned against the door and then locked it.

  “Are you crazy?” I thought it a fair question.

  “No. Are you?” she shot back. “Those biker babes, party girls, whatever the club calls them, follow Jericho everywhere, and Dare. You need to protect your man.”

  “He’s not mine.”

  “Like that, is it?”

  “Yeah.” I headed into the stall to escape her.

  “Even if it’s not exclusive, don’t be shown up by that trash.”

  She talked to me while I peed. Who did that?

  “Peeing here.” True, I hadn’t had many girl-type friends, but wasn’t there a line that stopped well before my bathroom stall?

  “You go out there and lay one on him, claim him before they do.”

  I heard a muffled yell outside the door.

  I definitely couldn’t pee in peace.

  “Shit, that’s Mal, I gotta go. You do what I say.”

  I finished my business and washed up, staring at my reflection while I decided if I really had to go back to the table. I had all I came with in my pockets. With a stop at the bar to pay Rachel, I could go freely away from bikers and back to my safe little world. It was a solid plan. A very solid plan, one I’d have done in an instant six weeks ago, even three weeks ago, but not tonight. If this was going to be my home, I couldn’t let a couple bikers or their babes scare me away from the few friends I’d made.

  When I came out, the table had done some kind of shuffle game. Rock sat where Zayn had, Jericho was over between two of the girls, and one of the three was sitting in my chair chatting up Dare. The exit looked ever so tempting, but I made my feet move, right, left, right, left, back to the table. I pulled out Jericho’s old chair to sit down, Rachel could bring me another tea.

  “Charla, move out of Red’s seat.”

  Her red-painted lips parted.

  “Now,” Dare barked at her.

  She jumped out of the seat in a flat second, moving to the bikers at the head of the table.

  I continued to sit in Jericho’s seat, not wanting any part of whatever had just transpired.

  “Red, take your seat,” Dare said.

  I did, but only so I could tell him just what I thought of a bossy boss.

  “Why did you make a scene?” I spoke low but with fierceness. He needed to understand my irritation.

  “I didn’t.” He downed the rest of his glass of whiskey. “You ready to jet?”

  Had he read my mind? I so wanted away from this place because they played by different rules that I obviously didn’t understand. Dare stopped at the bar. “Everything on Jericho. He gave me his card.” He handed it to Mal. Rachel’s face lit up like it was Christmas Day.

  He didn’t say anything as we walked out the door and the few feet to my place. “If you’re ever there with the guys, and a bunch of club members come in, you jet. That’s not your scene.”

  I nodded, searching for something to say. “I thought about just paying up and leaving when I came out of the bathroom—”

  “Nah, you did right tonight because I was there. Besides, they needed a lesson in manners.” He stared at me with that brooding look of his.

  “You know you don’t scare me.” I don’t know why I said that.

  “Yeah, can’t figure that one out, but then you just called the meanest biker I know an idiot, so either you got a big pair hiding in those jeans or you’re an idiot.” He chuckled.

  Oh shit. “Did I screw up?”

  “Nope. You can’t go wrong being you, Red. See ya tomorrow.”

  I let myself in the building without turning back to see if he’d headed for the bar. Some information I didn’t want to know, even if I’d already told him no. I’d just entered my place when I heard the familiar sound of his bike roar out of town. I didn’t know where he was going, but I took comfort in where he wasn’t.

  Chapter Five: Lila

  Thursdays were a slow day at the shop, and I’d gotten in the habit of opening and taking off until about five when things picked up. Today, I’d meet Rachel for lunch before she had to go in at four. We might do some shopping.

  We met at the diner, which was only two doors from Marked Man, and it had the best food ever. Today I had a fried chicken salad, which Rachel swore by. We ordered two of them and two sweet teas.

  She assessed me for a long time, like several seconds. “So how long have you been here?”

  “Getting close to two months.” It was hard to believe. “It’s gone by in a flash.”

  With a grin, she gave me a knowing look.

  “What?”

  “If I had Dare in my bed, I’d make time stop.”

  “Um, well, I don’t. I mean have him in my bed.” I picked up my tea and drained a third of the glass.

  “Why not? He’s totally sniffing you up, down and sideways. I was sure you two hooked up after the way he rushed you out of Blue’s.” Rachel frowned at me in this way that clearly said she thought me mental.

  “Nope.” I blushed. “I’m trying to avoid men a while.”

  The waitress dropped off the salads, which were smothered with ranch dressing. I forked up my first bite and fell in love. Hot chicken, cold cheese, lettuce and ranch—divine. Rachel hadn’t steered me wrong.

  “Bad breakup.” She nodded, stuffing her mouth with salad.

  “How’d you know that?”

  “Rock told me.”

  The gossiping... I couldn’t think of a word bad enough. I hadn’t planned for my business to be the town’s business.

  “Honey, it’s no use.” Rachel laughed. “The town’s too small and we all gossip too much.”

  “I could just as well wear my words, if my face is so damn obvious.”

  With a pat to my hand, she dug into her salad. We ate in silence a few minutes as I contemplated how to ask what I most wanted to know.

  “So you’ve been man-free, meaningless sex-free, almost two months.” Her tone was sad and a tad dramatic.

  “It’s not like I’m headed for a convent,” I huffed, although two weeks had been my limit before, and that was the first two weeks I’d been on the run. Since then I’d jumped from guy to guy in a matter of days, always with the next lined up. Well, at least after my very first breakup. When Justin told me to get out, I’d spent two days alone, not knowing where I’d sleep or where I’d eat. After that, I always had one eye on the guy I was with and another on who might take his place. In the early years, it was a matter of survival, but then it had become habit.

  “I’ve had men, and three relationships. I guess I’d call them that.” I snorted. “But this is my longest time, since I started to have times, with no sex.”

  “Why are you resisting the biker god? Are you not into bikers?”

  I wish. In fact, I was too into him. “He’s my boss, and I’ve made that mistake. My last guy, when I dumped him, well
, that’s how I ended up here. No Tony, no job.”

  “Ouch.” She chewed and considered my words.

  “Your turn.” I poked my fork at her. “You getting any?”

  She grinned. “Now and again, but I’m between people.”

  The way she said people was odd. Why not lovers, guys, or was she into girls? Not that I cared, but she had pried into my business in every way she could.

  “So that says you like a bit of the wild side—what is it, girls, guys, both?” I couldn’t nail her down but something about her made me think it’s complicated was her relationship status.

  She ate more salad, drank her tea, basically pretended I wasn’t there, even though a smile played across her lips.

  “Both.” She dropped her head in her hands. “And I’m never satisfied with one long, before the other sex candy looks better.”

  “You need to find two others like you.” Hell, everyone should find happiness.

  Her mouth turned down and expression saddened in this way almost too painful to witness. “I had that once, but it’s gone. And that’s that.” She stared at her plate before glancing up with a wicked look on her features. “So we’re two bitches burned by our past, but at least I don’t let it keep me from gettin’ some.” She pointed her red-painted nail at me. “You need to get with Dare.”

  I’d just be honest. “Tell me the lowdown on Dare.” I leaned in, desperate for all she knew.

  “He’s wild, they say he got his name honestly, nothing that boy won’t do.” She waggled her brows. “And that he’s a god in bed. But don’t go thinking he’s in it for long, he isn’t made that way. In the ten years he’s been in town, no one has seen him with any girl longer than a few times, and that’s just sex. Personally, I’ve been here three years, and I ain’t seen him with the same girl twice.”

  I smiled wide, thinking I’d been wrong. If we just relieved the tension and went our separate ways, that would be good, at least for me. I couldn’t stand the sexual buildup, the dreams, the holding back from taking what I wanted.

  “You know most girls don’t smile when I say that.” She tapped her fork on the table. “You can’t change him.”

  “I wouldn’t want to.” I grinned. “Most guys, they glom onto me, and I’ve let them. Sooner or later they’re telling me what to do, how to live or worse—my man picker is broken. But if he’s just in it for sex, and I really want some sex with Dare, then my worries about the other stuff are just in my head. Right?”

  Rachel wrinkled her nose and said nothing. She went back to her salad, and I worried she didn’t approve of my plan.

  “You think you can do physical but, honey, you got the forever vibe. Bet you bring soup to sick friends or bake them something to make them feel better. You go out of your way to make people around you comfortable, happy.”

  The way she said it didn’t sound like an insult exactly, but it wasn’t a compliment either. “I might do some of those things, but I don’t want forever.”

  “But you take such good care of your losers, they won’t let you go.” Her dry laugh kind of hurt my feelings. “Honey, you remind me of my mama, bless her soul. Me, I’ll never be that kind of girl.” Her words had a hard edge to them.

  “But it doesn’t sound like Dare’s the care-for-me type?” I threw it out there, desperately wanting her to agree.

  “True enough, you should be safe—just hot sex and adios.” She laughed. “I love hot sex and adios.”

  We laughed and talked and before long it was time to head back to work. When I got there, Dare was gone for the day, and Rock told me the trip to Blue’s was off. We ended the day early when the last customer left.

  * * *

  Friday was rainy, and I hated rain. Two clients canceled, so we had no one scheduled the rest of the night. Four long hours with Mr. Grouchy. Zayn had been distracted and short all day, and no one else showed up. He came up at five said Dare wanted us to close and hurried out the door. I decided something was brewing at the club, why else would Rock cancel his appointments or Zayn be so short? He’d seemed relieved when his two evening appointments canceled, leaving him free.

  I swore not to think about the mysterious club business. Instead, I started a big pot of soup. The only good thing about a rainy day was soup. Well two things, I guess, soup and books. Deciding on beef barley, I assembled the ingredients and set it to simmer.

  I stared into my empty living room and thought about the ratty chair that sat in the corner and was now inked on my back. I’d managed to add an end table for my lamp, more dishes and a kitchen table, but I hadn’t invested in furniture yet. I just didn’t feel safe and settled yet, so I kind of hoarded the money in my bank account, worried I’d have to pick up stakes and move again.

  Did I have a reason to worry? No. Did I worry anyway? Yes.

  After soup, I settled into my chair to reread one of my favorite werewolf romances before bed. I took a long time to fall asleep because I worried about Dare and whatever had the club all worked up.

  After a bad night’s sleep, I woke up early and in a grouchy mood. With no furniture, cleaning wasn’t even a thing for me, so I decided to head to Marked Man for some work. I needed to do the month’s end work for June and do a detailed inventory using my new system. No time like the present, and hopefully my grouchiness would fade with the morning.

  I was in the office cursing the damn ledger and erasing my month’s end totals for the third time when I heard someone beating on the door. The desk clock read ten thirty, more than an hour before we opened. I considered ignoring it when the beating sound came again, but this time it had a frantic kind of tone. I stepped out of the office to see a woman a bit older than me with blood running out of her nose and face filled with terror.

  “Let me in,” she yelled through the glass then looked to the left and right.

  I hurried to the door, unlocked it and pulled her inside. “Is someone looking for you?” I asked, relocking the door.

  She nodded, sobbing.

  Then I noticed she wore the same kind of vest the guys wore with Jericho Brotherhood on the back. “Go to the back, where the guys work, and I’ll be there in a minute.” She moved fast.

  I stared at the door, smeared with blood and prints. I grabbed the cleaner and made quick work of cleaning the top of the door before I hurried back inside, locked up, turned off the lights and headed back to where the girl sat in a corner hugging herself.

  I knew that look—the look of abuse. How many times had I huddled in a corner trying to keep myself together? Too fucking many to count.

  I knelt in front of her. “Anything broken?”

  She shook her head.

  “You have a vest on—”

  “Brotherhood cut.” She said it as if it meant the world.

  I didn’t get it. “Who can I call for you?”

  “Not the police. You didn’t call the police?” She leaned forward and grabbed my tee. “Did you?”

  “Nope.” I closed my fingers over hers and she released my shirt but kept the finger balled tight. “Since you came to the shop, I thought you might be looking for Dare?”

  She sighed and nodded. “Yeah, can you call Dare? I called him yesterday but then Donnie went crazy and I couldn’t get away or call.”

  “Do you want a pop or water? I don’t have coffee down here.”

  “Coke if you got it.” She rocked herself. I brought her the Coke and a warm wash rag for her nose before I shut myself in the office to call Dare.

  He answered on the first ring. “Busy now. We might not even—”

  “You looking for a girl, a woman older than me with a guy named Donnie?” Stupid, I hadn’t asked the girl’s name.

  “Veronica is with you? How? This is not your business—”

  “It is when she shows up this morning, bloody,
pounding on the front door.” I didn’t want to consider what this girl meant to Dare.

  “Red, can you take her to your place let her shower and stuff? We’ll be at least an hour before we can get there.”

  “Got it.” I was about to hang up when he said, “Close the shop at least until four, I know we got evening stuff.”

  “Got it,” I repeated.

  This made me less than comfortable. I didn’t want to know about the club or club life, but I did what Dare said and took her upstairs. She welcomed the idea of the shower. I gave her some of my clothes before she went to the bathroom. Hers looked as if they’d seen better days. Then I went to the kitchen and baked. I loved to bake and tried to always have some kind of fresh-baked goodies around, but today I was baking to take my mind off the beaten-up girl, Dare and things I knew I’d never have answers about.

  After the shower, I showed her to my bed and she gratefully crawled in and was asleep in seconds. I wondered how long she’d been awake. There were times growing up I only slept away from home, because nothing was worse than being slapped awake.

  She slept while I baked brownies and cookies. I was considering a cake when someone finally knocked on my door three hours, not one, later. I opened the door and Jericho, Dare and a third guy I didn’t know walked in.

  “Where is she?” Dare asked.

  “Where’s your furniture?” the guy I didn’t know asked.

  “She’s in my bed asleep, about two hours now, I think.”

  “I’ll get her and take her to my place.” The rude guy headed right for my bedroom.

  How did he know where the bedroom was?

  “Thanks, Bear.”

  “You know, she’ll try and find him by tomorrow at the latest.” I spoke to the room. Unfortunately, runaways had lots of experience being abused and having abused friends.