Enough

by Jade Chandler

  At eight, I walked through the front door of Blue’s Tavern. Music played overhead, and locals filled the long bar. A scattering of tables had been shoved back, making room for a dance floor with a small stage butted against the wall.

  Like at the club party, with those wicked balls.

  “Hey!” Avery grabbed my hands and jumped up and down. “So hot! And the boots were the right call.”

  She introduced me to her friends Carla, Frankie, and Glory. The sympathetic stares meant Avery had shared my story.

  What did I care?

  For a second, I wavered. One night of drinking wouldn’t make me an alcoholic.

  No, I refused to risk it, even to dull the loneliness pressing into me. The music blared too loud for any long conversations, but I understood the essentials. All four had graduated from high school in Barden, and now lived together. They were my age, and two of them had boyfriends. Glory said her love life was complicated. Avery told me she was happily single.

  The music stopped as the band set up.

  “So you really dated the hunk they call Dare?” Frankie, the black-haired one, leaned forward with elbows propped on the wooden table.

  “Yeah.”

  “Rude,” Avery broke in. “What illegal shit do they do?”

  “Is it too cool in their clubhouse?” Carla grinned at me.

  “Do they talk in slang, like on SOA?” Glory asked.

  They peppered me with the questions all at the same time. Now I understood what Zayn meant. I’d never ask these kinds of questions, this had been a mistake.

  I met each girl’s gaze as I answered her question. “I did. All legal. I dunno how you define cool. And SOA isn’t real, so no.” Glory opened her mouth, but I held up a hand. “Look, I should jet. This is the last thing I want to talk about. I think it’s—”

  “Dammit, we’re sorry,” Avery gushed, and her friends nodded their agreement. “We all fantasize about dating a biker, but we’re chicken.”

  “Only some of us,” Frankie sneered.

  I might not like Frankie.

  “Ladies, I’ve arrived. You can swoon now.” A handsome guy with chestnut hair and puppy dog eyes stared at me. His mouth slightly hung open.

  “I’m Lila.” I smiled at him. “Hope you don’t mind, Avery asked me to join.”

  The guy pulled up a chair between Glory and me. “I’m Avery’s brother, Chet. And you’ve made my month.”

  I laughed, not ashamed to admit a little male attention boosted my mood. What girl doesn’t like to feel desired?

  Over the next twenty minutes the round table filled with Avery’s friends. I lost track of names. A cute guy in a black motorcycle jacket nodded to me. He didn’t wear a cut, so he wasn’t a brother, but I’d met him. Then it hit me, Mark, the guy Dare had inked with tribal art on his arm.

  “Hey, Mark, how’s the tat?” I almost had to shout in his ear to be heard.

  “Great, Lila. Dare here?” He scanned the room.

  And that fast my paper world crumbled. “We’re not together, anymore.” I strung the words together.

  His smile brightened. “Then you should dance with me first.”

  At least he hadn’t pretended sympathy.

  The band started with a country song. I threw myself into dancing, releasing my sorrow. After four songs, I stopped to get a drink, taking a minute to catch up with Mal, the bar owner and bartender.

  “Let’s go shake our money makers.” Avery smacked my butt and I squealed.

  Mal laughed and I felt the heat of a blush.

  “Hell yeah,” I hollered, waving to Mal.

  We closed the bar down and Avery and I were the only sober ones, even Mal looked lit. Despite two offers for company, I went home alone, and fell asleep hopeful for the first time that I’d recover.

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Dare

  Jericho and I rode out before dawn, heading out to the hunting cabin. Zayn, Rebel and a handful of guys would head out in a second group. It’d been leave or drink, so we left. Normally a long ride blew all my demons away, but not this morning. The monkey on my back had sunk his claws down deep.

  Her dull green eyes haunted me so much I saw them every time I closed my eyes. Those eyes stole my rage and left only a hollow hole where it normally burned. My eyes hurt from the all-nighter, at least that’s what I told myself. Why had I done it?

  It didn’t matter because we were destined to crash. One of us had to end it, and at least I hadn’t had to dig for the resolve to do it, because I wasn’t sure I would have been able. Red had become too important, and my chest constricted thinking she was gone. All those parts she lit up died with one word, but I’d kept walking, needing the space to explode without killing any of my brothers.

  When I’d stumbled into the clubhouse around dark, Jericho had been there. When he said her name I roared and decked him. We fought until we both lay panting on the floor unable to move.

  Now, we rode together, the three of us, like we always did. At least that felt normal when nothing else did. We slowed, pulling into the drive of the cabin. I parked my bike and grabbed my pack, ready to get my drink on. I planned to be fucked up for the foreseeable future.

  Jericho beat me off the bike and had a bottle of bourbon in hand. “Lay down.”

  He pointed to the wooden bench.

  “Fuck yeah. Don’t stop pouring until I can’t remember...my name,” I finished lamely.

  I lay back. Jericho stood over me. “Open up.”

  Head too full of shit, I opened my mouth and the smooth taste of Johnny flooded it. I gulped as fast as it came, sputtering and coughing once. The liquor stopped and I sucked in a deep breath.

  I swallowed mouthfuls of whiskey until the bottle was gone. My stomach rumbled and I sat up, head between my knees, breathing deep. This was the moment where the alcohol stayed or came back up again. I fought down the gorge and commanded my stomach to settle—no way I was going to throw up yet.

  Jericho thrust another bottle in my hand. I opened it and drank more. Either I’d forget or I’d die and right now both sounded equally appealing.

  The next few days passed in a haze of drinking and everything took on the blurred softness of a long drunk. I brooded and raged, but didn’t lose my shit and piss and moan about Red, only because I passed out before I got there.

  I woke up and no whiskey was close to where I’d passed out. I opened one eye and was surprised to see the sun setting out the window of the cabin. I rocked up to my knees from the scruffy carpet. Scrubbing my face, I blocked my eyes when the door opened and Jericho stomped inside.

  “We’re going out, get in the damn shower. You stink.”

  I stood and wobbled on my feet, still drunk from before I passed out. After showering and changing, I headed outside and eyed the seven bikers. I didn’t remember Rebel or Viper showing up. Shit, I’d lost time.

  “Hey, you good?” Jericho smacked my back and I stumbled forward.

  “Yeah, fucker.” I rubbed my neck. “What are we doing?”

  “Going to get you laid at a new strip club.” Jericho winced. “You still drunk?”

  “Mostly. But there’s only one of you, so it’s better than before.”

  I jumped in the truck next to Zayn and buckled up. “Where?”

  “Melina ten miles away. They have a new place—we plan to bring several girls back with us.”

  Some pussy action sounded good to me, I needed to get off the bench and start again. Ride again.

  The red flashing lights of Club G almost blinded me. My head started to ache, meaning I needed more whiskey before a hangover kicked in. The bouncer gave us all a second glance before he stepped aside. I headed straight for the bar and ordered two doubles, throwing them both back in seconds.

  “Don’t let the
manager see you do that, he’ll cut you off.” A violet-haired girl winked at me.

  I slipped her a fifty. “Keep the drinks coming and your manager away from me.”

  Jericho walked up behind me. “Put it on the card—dancers and booze.”

  The bartender scooped the card off the table. “Anything you want, just let me know.” Her eyes settled on me and skimmed down to my dick.

  I lifted my chin and stumbled away. Jericho followed, laughing his smug ass off. “Just like riding a chick, one’s good, no matter who’s better.”

  I stopped and pushed back memories of riding my chick. No, not mine. For all I knew she was home fucking some other guy. The idea banked a fire of hate and rage.

  We sat up front at the table attached to the stage. Several young guys darted looks toward Rebel and Zayn but slinked off. Yeah, having brothers at your back is a good thing.

  Music thumped and the lights dimmed. A big-boobed blonde stood at the pole when the lights came up. Dressed in a leather jacket and thigh-high boots, she looked like any biker’s fantasy. I might bring the bartender home with me, but first I was having her.

  I drank down my whiskey and reached for Zayn’s beer. He didn’t even bitch as he went for more drinks.

  The blonde moved to the beat of the music and she rocked the pole. My mouth was dry and adrenaline pumped through me—I was doing this. I pulled out a twenty and waved it high.

  With a sassy twist to her hips, she strutted toward me, unzipping the leather, letting the coat fall to the stage. Nothing covered her hard nipples and huge tits.

  “Hey, handsome,” she purred, gyrating lower until she lay on the stage, tits hanging over, almost on my face. “Go ahead, you know you want to.”

  I stepped back. “I’ll do that in private.”

  She shook them again. “Five more minutes in this show, and then I’m yours, bad boy.” Her finger slid over her lips. “You can follow Misty, behind you, to the room, if you want.”

  I threw a twenty to the stage. Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed the waitress stood behind me.

  “Misty? I need that room.” I swayed but righted myself, stumbling a little as I followed her.

  The red room wasn’t much bigger than a closet, with a red leather chair in the center facing a door in back. Leaning my head back against the chair, I closed my eyes, resting just a minute. Music started and then the door opened. The stripper twirled in circles making me dizzy. She ended the spin with tits in my face

  “Get the fuck back,” I told her, tone cold.

  She skittered back, fear in her eyes. “Dude, what the hell?”

  Rubbing my neck, I stared at my feet, trying to get right in the head. “I don’t want what you’re offering, but my brothers don’t see it that way, so...” I pulled a hundred from my pocket. “This is the deal. Take the hundred and your fee and go. Tell anyone who asks it was great.”

  She smirked and eyed my hard dick. “Well it works, so must be a girl. You got it bad.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Lila

  After our night out dancing, Avery adopted me, stopping by every night when she finished at the boutique.

  Tonight Avery and Glory sat in my kitchen while I finished up a batch of chicken stir-fry, one of Dare’s favorite dishes. I shook my head to clear the memories.

  “So, what’s the recovery plan?” Avery pinned me with an intense look. Her normal cheeriness was gone.

  I frowned at her. “Get up every day. Live. Sleep. Repeat.”

  Glory shook her head. “Girl, you need to rebound. Get back in the game.”

  “I don’t see you bouncing out.” I clicked off the burner. “Chow time.”

  “Well, it’s good advice.” She gave me a pained smile, and I understood we were both far from recovered.

  “This ain’t your first rodeo, what’s your normal MO?” Avery persisted.

  My normal MO. That was a laugh.

  A weak part of me, a part I despised, shouted I should let someone else sweep away my pain. Not Rock, he’d met Red, the biker girl who’d met Dare challenge for challenge. And he’d expect her, but she’d crumbled to dust in the club kitchen. Each step of Dare’s boots across the linoleum floor breaking her into smaller and smaller pieces.

  I’d outgrown the scared girl with no furniture, desperate for a place to belong, but I also couldn’t be Red. Maybe I’d become Mama, but she wanted nothing to do with men. Her heart hurt too much.

  “I’d fall into bed and let some new man or string of men make me feel better until I found the biggest prick in the bunch, and I picked him. And then sooner or later, I’d end up here.” My cynical laugh sounded like Bear instead of me.

  The two girls raised their eyebrows in silent communication.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “You and Carla might be relationship sisters. She’s in the middle of another loser relationship.” Avery fidgeted. “How do you not see them? And, sorry to say it, I’d never say Dare was a loser.”

  “I don’t think it’s all them. I shift, trying to be whatever they want, but in the past that girl and I eventually were so different, I’d wake up one day and have to escape. That’s when I ran away.” I sighed. “Dare...I like who I am with him, but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.”

  “Ah, sweetie.” Avery and Glory surrounded me in the chair. They smothered me in an embrace. I welcomed the comfort.

  “Then he’s a loser because you’re awesome,” Avery said.

  “Thanks.” I wiped my tears while scolding myself. I’d promised no more tears.

  “So your old plan isn’t an option.” Glory opened another bottle of Corona. “We need a new one.”

  “I need a life,” I muttered. It was my plan, but it sounded so pathetic.

  Avery spurted out bits of soda when she laughed. “Sister, I could get behind that. I need a life too.”

  I frowned at her. “You got all these friends, people who love you. What’s wrong with your life?”

  “I know I’m lucky.” Her gaze flitted to Glory. “Everyone sees me as their sister, or friend, or the one crazy goth chick in Barden.” She flicked her teal bangs out of her face. “My shop is rocking in business, but no one wants to date me. Well, no one local. No one I know.”

  “Do you have someone picked for the role?” I assessed her. She did have the friend vibe, and was a little too different for small-minded small-town guys.

  “A biker. Several of the girls I see with them shop at my store. I know I’m biker-babe material.” She twisted her hands, and all of a sudden a picture of a girl with her nose pushed to the window filled my mind.

  Friday night a big group of us headed to Ardmore for a movie, dinner and dancing at a club. We ended up at Paradise where a DJ played dance music. Totally different than dancing at Blue’s Tavern. Within an hour, more than ten of us were cramped in a small space around two tables. The dark club smelled of sweat and alcohol. Black lights with strobes and disco balls colored the dance floor. Glory, Avery and I joined the throng of dancers in the crowded space.

  During the third song, Glory went white and her gaze flicked all over, like she was looking for an escape. Avery tugged my arm and we left the dance floor, moving toward the bathroom. The line was short, and the sounds of music lower.

  “What?” I only had to shout a bit.

  “Did you see the muscle-bound idiot with the raven-haired girl?” Avery shouted to be heard.

  The couple was almost fucking on the dance floor, and it hadn’t been a slow song.

  “Glory’s boyfriend.” Avery’s hand was on Glory’s shoulder but she spoke in my ear. “They’re on ‘a break.’” She used air quotes.

  “What’s that mean?” My relationships always ended in a nuclear blast of destruction.

  “It means we weren’t see
ing anyone else.” Glory stamped her foot. “He cheated on me and then came back two days later promising to do anything to make it right. We, uh, kind of got busy with the make-up sex, but then I just couldn’t trust him, so I told him I needed a break to figure shit out. Neither of us was to see anyone else—it was a test, at least that’s how I saw it.”

  “He fucking failed.” I hated cheating jerks.

  Glory grinned. “Total, epic fail.”

  “And we don’t cry over losers, girls.” Avery draped an arm around each of us.

  “Girls, we’re all starting over. And I’m on the market again. Stupid asshole.” Glory’s words were hard, but her expression showed the hurt.

  We headed back to the table, and barely settled into our chairs when the jerk stormed toward us. Chet and another guy stepped into his path. Glory turned away, and I hurt for her. Eventually he left, but Glory remained ghost white.

  “I’ll get you a drink.” I snaked through the crowd until I stood at the glass bar.

  How’d they keep drunks from breaking it?

  I ordered her a shot and a margarita. Again, I was tempted to do the same but didn’t. I believed alcoholism was inherited and wouldn’t test my luck.

  The bartender gave me the twice-over before he sat the drinks in front of me. “I can get you off at two when I close.”

  I smirked at his line and gave him a ten. He handed me the change, his fingers lingering on mine.

  “Don’t.” A hand tightened on my shoulder.

  Leaving the drinks on the bar top, I twisted to see Zayn’s dark eyes hooded in a frown.

  “You guys back?” My chest tightened, and I scanned the bar, hoping not to see Dare, or maybe the opposite.

  His brow creased. “Except Dare and Jericho, they’re staying until Monday.” He raised his voice to be heard. “You take up drinking?”

  I followed his gaze to the shot and the margarita.

  I huffed out a chuckle. “These are for a friend.”

  His frown deepened. “What kind of friend?”