by Brook Wilder
She was mercifully saved from having to answer that question as the bells above the door chimed again as the night’s first customers entered the bar.
“Gotta get to work, Gears,” Lori said and, for a moment, was afraid he wasn’t going to let go.
Finally, he released her. She took a hasty step back, throwing a stiff grin at the newcomers.
“I’ll be right with you to get your order.”
Lori studiously ignored Gears as she made her way back behind the bar, hating the shaking that made her legs feel like jelly.
At first, she’d been so grateful for Gears, for the way he’d helped her out when she needed it most. But more and more often of late he’d gotten pushier with her, hinting that she owed him, touching her when she didn’t want it. A few times he’d even tried to corner her, but she’d learned to stay out of his way, especially when he was drinking.
He’d become even worse over the last few weeks, escalating to the point that she was afraid to be alone with him. She knew it was only a matter of time before he attacked her and demanded that she paid what he thought he she owed him. Lori had been hoping she’d be long gone by then. But if it had reached the point where he’d grab her in the bar in the middle of the day, then she had less time than she thought.
Not only was he her boss, he was also her landlord. It was hard enough for her to make a move without him knowing about it. How the hell was she going to be able to sneak away without him trying to stop her? Staying had never been an option, but now she was afraid she’d be leaving even sooner than she first anticipated.
And how the hell am I going to do that? With the four hundred dollars I have saved? That’ll get me a week in a shitty motel and not much else.
Lori tried to shake off the negative thought as she brought a tray full of beers to the customers’ table. She knew she needed to get out of town before Gears got any worse, but she also knew that it would cost money. Money that she didn’t have.
As Lori served the customers, she could still feel Gears’ gaze burning a hole in her back and she knew then that it didn’t matter. Whatever it took, she’d figure out a way to get the money and then get the hell out of there.
The sick feeling in her stomach didn’t go away as the bar slowly began to fill. It was a Tuesday night, but that didn’t mean much for these men. They kept their own hours, had their own freedom from the nine to five that trapped most people. But Lori had learned over the last year that the freedom that the Grim Riders offered came at a price.
The word of the president of the crew was law and the Grim Riders was sure as hell not a democracy. It was a monarchy. And most of these men, especially the lower level members, were expected to do what they were told when they were told, without argument. They weren’t as free as they seemed.
Well, neither am I.
Lori swallowed down the morose thought with a shot of tequila behind the bar as she scanned the crowd.
It was full but still fairly quiet, with most of the bikers busy talking business. Most of them were drug runners or bookies, bringing product in and distributing it out of state. It was a lucrative business, too. She knew that. But, for the most part, she tried to stay away from that side of the crew. She tried to ignore the less savory things they did.
Even though many of the Grim Riders had accepted her and shown her kindness over the last year, Lori knew they were all capable of violence, and worse. She’d heard the stories. Out of the three gangs that ran this part of the state, the Grim Riders was the most notorious next to Devil’s Martyrs, the crew’s main rival.
“Hey, Shortcake, can I get a beer?”
“Sure thing, Tag,” Lori said with a smile as she slid the drink towards the patch member. She scanned the rest of the crowd absentmindedly, looking despite herself to see if the cowboy would come back for a repeat performance.
Lori knew that she’d shot him down hard. And, damn it! she meant what she’d said. She didn’t date. She didn’t do random hook-ups. Relationships made life too complicated. And she wasn’t planning on sticking around anyway so what was the point?
Her gaze froze on the spot where Gears was sitting in the corner. Lori forced herself to look away. He’d been sitting there all night, watching her. He’d grown way too obsessive and it made her already troubled thoughts even more chaotic.
She threw herself into her work, hoping to lose herself in the hustle of the job as the hours passed.
It was still an hour till close and most of the members who were still there were worse for wear, some stumbling outside or shouting at each other. She’d already had to break up two fights, but that was par for the course for this place. It got rough. She expected it. But most of the men listened to her when she told them to take it outside.
“Lori, you’re looking awful pretty tonight,” a young voice said, the words slightly slurred from liquor.
Lori turned with a good-natured grin.
“Thanks, Hart.” Lori looked the younger patch member up and down with a snort. “You’re not. You’re pissed drunk.”
“Maybe,” he said with a grin.
Lori just shook her head. Hart was a younger member of the Riders, relegated to mostly grunt work and manual labor. Carrying things from point A to point B and back again. But he was harmless, if a little too eager sometimes.
“No ‘maybe’ about you though,” he said, wavering where he stood with a goofy grin on his face. “You really are looking awfully pretty. But, then again, you always are. Can I have another beer?”
Lori let out a laugh at his drunken compliment.
“I think you’ve had enough Hart.”
He sloshed forward, draping an arm around her shoulder as he stared up at her pleadingly.
“Come on, bartender. Just one more. Pleeeease!”
He drew out the word and Lori chuckled again before pushing him off. His drunken ass didn’t budge.
“No more. Not even one more. You can get the hell off me and I’ll call you a cab.”
Lori went to shove him one more time, but all she met was empty air.
“What the hell?”
The words were barely out of her mouth before they were cut off. Her eyes went wide as she watched Gears grab hold of Hart from behind and roughly drag him away, not stopping until the young member slammed against a nearby wall.
Hart shot Lori a stunned look, his reflexes dulled from the alcohol. He didn’t even have time to put his fists up before Gears started pummeling him. The sharp crack of knuckle against bone sounded loudly in the bar and, for a moment, all Lori could do was watch on in absolute horror as Gears turned the young member’s face into a bloody pulp.
Shock sent her into motion and Lori leapt forward, pulling Gears off the younger man, who was now slumping forward, trying to stop his broken nose from bleeding too badly.
“Stop!” Lori shouted, a loud buzzing in her ears as she yanked the older man back.
He turned on her and she took a hasty step back.
“Gears, you have to stop.”
His eyes were crazed, his mouth pulled back in a snarl as his gaze landed on her and a chill shot through Lori at the look on his transformed face.
“No one touches you, Lori,” he growled. “You’re mine and no one touches what belongs to me. You remember that.”
He spit in Hart’s direction before sauntering away.
Lori waited until Gears had gone back to his seat before rushing towards Hart. But, even still, she was careful to keep plenty of distance between them. She had no doubt that Gears meant every single word he had said. She also had no doubt that he would have killed Hart if she hadn’t pulled the older man off him.
A few of the other members glanced at Gears askance, but no one raised a hand to the senior member of the crew. This was his bar, after all, and what he did in his bar was no one else’s business. Hart barely even registered as a member for many of them. Not yet anyway. Finally, Lori got one of the members to take Hart to the bathroom to patch him up and get
him home, and she was left standing alone, shaking in the aftermath.
“You alright, hun?”
The suddenness of Carrie’s voice behind her had Lori jumping out of her skin. She whirled around, sighing out a giant breath of relief at seeing her friend.
“Jesus, Car, you can’t sneak up on people like that.”
Lori forced out with a humorless laugh. Carrie didn’t laugh. She just looked at Lori, her dark eyes wide with concern as she took a step closer.
“Are you alright?” she asked again, her voice dropping. “I saw Gears lose it on that poor kid.”
Lori opened her mouth, all the platitudes and excuses ready on her tongue, but they wouldn’t come out. After a moment, she just shook her head.
“I don’t think so. I don’t think I’m alright, Carrie.”
Lori looked up at her friend and saw sympathy in her face.
“Can you stay until closing?”
Lori darted her eyes to the back of the room where Gears was sitting, drinking his beer as if nothing had happened, as if his knuckles weren’t still dripping with someone else’s blood.
“Of course,” Carrie answered immediately, suddenly looking like a warrior as she stood there in her short skirt and heels. Lori wasn’t sure what she would do if anything happened, but she felt better just knowing her friend would be there.
“And you’re coming home with me tonight,” Carrie added before hopping up onto her regular stool at the end of the bar.
“You don’t have to…”
“I know.” Carrie sent her a small smile. “But there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go home alone tonight. Not when he lives next door and has a key to your place.”
There was no need for her to say who he was. That was the problem with Gears being her boss and her landlord; it was all too easy for him to find ways to get Lori alone.
Lori sent her friend a grateful look and slid a shot of tequila in front of her.
“Thanks Carrie.”
Carrie tossed back the shot with a grin.
“You can thank me with free shots all you want.”
They both laughed at that and Lori felt some of the tension leave her.
But it didn’t go away completely. It hung there, like a knot in the middle of her stomach that she couldn’t untie until the end of the shift and she was locking up for the night, Carrie standing dutifully by her side.
They both walked out to the parking lot and Lori caught sight of Gears truck parked next to her car. Then she saw the movement inside the cab.
“Let’s take your car.” Lori suggested.
A moment later they were climbing into Carrie’s beat up old sedan and pulling out of the parking lot.
It wasn’t until they were safely inside Carrie’s one-bedroom apartment that Lori start to feel better. The mugful of wine that Carrie had immediately shoved into her hand certainly helped with that too. It came out of a box, but it was still miles better than the rank stuff they tried to pass off as Merlot at the bar.
“Thanks,” Lori finally said after they got settled on the couch.
Her legs were tucked up underneath her and her gaze was lost in the red liquid in her coffee mug turned wine glass.
“I mean it, Carrie. Thanks for helping me out tonight.”
“Pssh. It’s nothing. You know I’d do anything for you. And you’d do anything for me, of course.”
“Of course,” Lori said on a chuckle.
She started to take a drink, but the suddenly serious look on her friend’s face gave her pause.
“What is it? I know you’ve got something going on in that devious mind of yours. I can practically see the wheels turning.”
“What are you going to do, Lori?” the other woman answered, leaning forward with a light of something dangerous in her dark gaze.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. What are you going to do about Gears? He’s getting worse. Way worse. You’re not going to be able to work for him much longer, let alone live in his house.”
“I don’t live in his house…”
“You know what I mean. The guy is your landlord. He has keys to the place. He could get into your house whenever he wants. Like at night, when you’re asleep and vulnerable. I don’t like it.”
“Well I don’t like either, Carrie!” Lori huffed. “But I don’t know what to do. I have a little bit of money saved, but I was planning to have at least another six months to a year to put more away.”
“You don’t have six months,” Carrie said and Lori could see the sincerity in her best friend’s face. “He’s losing it, hun. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m worried too.”
It was hard for Lori to admit, but her pride wouldn’t do a damn thing to save her from Gear.
“I need help,” she admitted.
“I know,” Carrie replied. “And I’ve been thinking. I might have a plan.”
“Oh, Jesus! Please tell me this isn’t like your last plan.”
“No, I swear. No scams.”
Carried suddenly grinned as she sat forward, that Machiavellian look once more shining in her eyes.
“Just good, clean, old fashioned drug dealing.”
“No. Hell no. Absolutely not.” Lori shook her head firmly. “No way. It’s not going to happen, Carrie.”
“Trust me, Lori. I have a new hook-up that can get us a bunch of pills for cheap. We re-sell them and you take all the profit. Easy peasy.”
“Except for the part where I said ‘Hell no’ and ‘not going to happen’”
Lori set the coffee mug down still full of wine, her stomach suddenly turning with nausea.
“Do you have a better plan?”
Carrie gave her a hard look, already knowing the answer.
“You need the money, right?”
“Yeah.” Lori answered reluctantly.
“And you need it fast?”
Carrie was already grinning in victory. And she was right damn it. Lori didn’t have a better plan.
Finally, Lori gave in with a sigh.
“Fine, you win.”
Carrie held up her glass, gesturing with her other hand until Lori rolled her eyes and picked her own mug back up.
“To our success and good luck.” Carrie’s grin widened. “And to making a ton of cash and getting Lori her fresh start.”
“To a fresh start,” Lori repeated reluctantly before clinking her mug to Carrie’s glass.
She just wished she didn’t feel like she had just made a huge mistake.
Chapter 5
Tex drew in a deep breath of the warm early morning air as his motorcycle flew down the empty Texas highway. The sky was still dark, but light was starting to stretch sleepily across the horizon, lighting the road in front of him.
It was a long ride from the small border town that he and Porky had just left. They were carrying a new shipment of product to the safe house and, as the miles stretched out ahead, Tex let his mind wander.
His green-eyed gaze drank in the beautiful dawn that was just beginning to break over the rough landscape, making it look magical as it edged the jutting rocks and cliffs of the desert landscape with glittering gold.
He knew that most people would call this area the ass end of Texas, but the wildness of the place called to something deep inside him, the same hungry, restless part of him that had led him to join the Devil’s Martyrs in the first place.
Porky was just ahead of him on the otherwise empty road. They could have been the only two people in the world. Desert stretched out on either side and, in the still, barren landscape, memories of his past rose up easily around him.
It was strange for him to think of the path he had taken to get to where he was now. He’d been troubled his entire childhood, constantly in and out of juvie, with Porky right alongside him.
They’d both gotten into so much shit as kids it was a wonder they’d made it out alive, but Tex slowly learned that he just wasn’t cut out fo
r the regular life. No white picket fence or soul sucking nine-to-five job, working for some asshole suit, for him. No, he wanted the open road and freedom. And the Devils had given him that.
Somehow, despite it all, the two of them had somehow made it out together. He and Porky had both grown up in the area and Porky still had some family around, but Tex was pretty much on his own. His family had all but disowned him after all the shit he’d put them through. He didn’t really blame them. They’d never understood the restless need that drove him. And, besides, right after that was when he and Porky had found their new family with the Devil’s Martyrs.
