by Ryan Michele
Chelsea came up to my side, putting her arm around my waist and her head in the crook of my arm. “I’m a bit of a pain in the ass, I’ve been told.”
“That’s true,” Jenn piped up, obviously feeling better.
“My brother says the same thing about me. All good, Fire.”
Chelsea smiled up at me.
“Fire?” Jannie asked, not skipping a beat.
“Yeah.” I didn’t owe anyone any explanations for how I felt or what I thought. Her family or not, I wasn’t ready for that shit yet.
“So, you two are together?” Jannie asked.
“Oh, don’t be stupid,” Bee quipped, all eyes going to her. “He’s had a thing for our girl since the first time we met him. Seems now that she’s cottoned to the idea, and they’re together.” Bee was a wise woman, and I liked that Chelsea had that in her life.
“Are you moving out of your trailer?” Jannie asked, and Chelsea stilled in my arms.
“No.” The single word came out pained, like she didn’t know how I’d feel.
I handed out an answer that would solve both our problems.
“Seems smart to pack up your shit and move it here. That way, you can save up for what you want.” It seemed like the logical thing to do, even if she hadn’t given me a true yes on everything. I didn’t give a fuck. I’d get her to come around sooner rather than later.
Chelsea’s other arm wrapped around me, and she burrowed into my body. I fucking loved that shit.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“ABOUT TIME YOU got your ass back here,” Charlie said when I walked into the diner with Stiff right behind me.
It had only been a few days, but a hell of a lot had happened during that time. Now I felt like I was coming home. The diner was a constant, and now I was back.
Charlie strode up, wiping his hands on a towel. His gray hair was slicked back and a smile made wrinkles around his eyes. When he opened his arms wide, I fell inside of them. He smelled of grease, meat, and Charlie.
“Missed you,” I whispered.
“Same here, girl. Talked to your man. I’m here when you are. I’ve got your back.” He gave me a hard squeeze then stepped back.
My heart filled so full it almost burst. Charlie was the first man I’d trusted after my father had crushed that trust. He had never let me down in thirteen years, and I knew he wouldn’t ever, no matter what life threw at me.
“Thanks.”
Charlie’s attention went to Stiff. “You stayin’ or leavin’?”
“Leavin’. Got some shit to do.”
I felt a small pang of disappointment, but it moved away quickly and changed to something else when Mitzi came out of the back with a huge smile on her face, making her way to Stiff.
“Hey, Stiff,” she said sexily, totally ignoring me.
“Hey,” was his response. No sexy come on. No other acknowledgement. I liked that a hell of a lot.
Mitzi stepped closer, obviously not liking his response, and trailed a finger over his arm.
Grams had me watch a rodeo once where the bull attacked one of the riders. Then a clown guy came over, wearing all red, and led the bull away. I felt like the bull as a red haze covered my eyes.
“Don’t,” I ground out just as Stiff pulled away from the touch.
Mitzi’s focus came to me. “What?”
I stepped in her space. “My man. No running your hands on him. No trying to get in his pants. No getting near him,” I snapped.
Mitzi’s eyes widened. “I … He’s your man?” she asked.
“Yep. Remember it.”
She gave me a small scowl then marched off to her tables.
Stiff put his arm around me and pulled me to him. “Easy there, Fire,” he said gently.
My body hummed, and it took me a few beats to get myself together. When I did, I looked up at Stiff.
“Don’t like that.”
“I get you. Now get to work.”
And work I did.
Sometime later, when the bell rang over the door and I looked up, old man Darren walked in. His eyes caught mine, and a wide smile came across his face.
“Chelsea, you’re back!” he practically cheered, moving toward me, and I smiled at him.
“Yes, I am,” I told him then ushered him to a table in my section. “Have a seat.”
“Thank you, young lady,” he replied, sitting down and scooting in over the plastic.
“What can I get ya?” I asked as I pulled out my pad and pen.
When he didn’t say anything, I looked at him. He had a gleam in his eye.
“That smile of yours sure makes an old man’s day,” he remarked, and I felt like I was home.
MY WORLD FELL into a pattern, and Stiff proved to me at every turn that he wasn’t going to let me down. He would take me to work and pick me up most days. Other days, one of the brothers would bring me. Xander or Hooch came around at times, scoping things out in their man way. Even Stiff came in and ate pretty regularly. I enjoyed having him in my space.
After two weeks, Jenn’s recovery had improved greatly. She was doing school work online, and I’d talked to my landlord and was moving my stuff out of my trailer next week. While I’d miss the space I had created, I was happy to stay with Stiff. In doing so, my bank account would increase by four hundred and fifty bucks a month, starting next week. That was huge in my world.
That wasn’t to say I didn’t have a plan B, because that was who I was. If things went south for some reason, I always had my mom and Grams; although I hoped down to my bone that I wouldn’t. Trusting Stiff this much wasn’t the easiest thing I’d ever done, and I needed that safety net.
In all the time we’d spent together over these last two weeks, I’d never asked once about his mom. Not once had Stiff let me down or wronged me during this time, and I figured, if there was something I needed to know or he wanted to share, he would tell me. I trusted him to do that for me.
I did ask about my dad, though, to which Stiff told me, “He’s slippery.” That meant they hadn’t found him yet.
Stiff and the guys went up to Jenn’s place at her school, packed her up, and brought everything to Grams’. She was still up in the air about other classes, but I would be damned if she didn’t get back to it. That degree was hers; I would make certain of it. Come hell or high water, this setback would not cost her the degree she wanted. Then again, she was slowly getting her fighting Miller spirit back, so I didn’t think it would be much of a fight.
The bell over the door chimed, and in strode Boner with the stocking cap and big shades. He whipped them off, coming right toward me.
“I’m your ride. Stiff’s got shit going on at the shop,” he told me, plopping up on the bar seat.
“No problem.” I turned to the back. “Charlie!” I called into the kitchen, and he turned toward me. “I’m going.”
“Later, girl.”
I smiled, grabbed my things, and headed out to Boner.
My feet were barking at me. The small break from being on them still had them on rebellion. I hoped it wouldn’t take them long to figure out we needed to work now. I was lucky, though. Stiff rubbed them a lot. He didn’t find them gross, but I made sure to scrub them really good in the shower. That was more for me than him.
“Ready,” I said, seeing Mitzi giving me the stink eye out of the corner of my eye. Whatever. She was just pissed because none of the guys now sat in her section. And now that they knew me, tips were even better. I protested, but it got me nowhere. They were all very insistent and Bosco even more so.
“Let’s go.”
Boner led me out of the building, his eyes watchful. It had been weeks since my sister had been hurt, and with no sign of my father, I really didn’t think that anything would happen. It made Boner feel better, though, so he did.
He moved me to a black four-door Jeep and opened up the passenger side for me. Gotta love southern hospitality. Stiff did the same when we weren’t on his bike, but those were becoming seld
om since I loved riding.
Boner closed the door, rounded the hood, and jumped in with me. Then he fired up the engine, and we were off.
“Boner?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“Can we stop by my place so I can pick up a few things?” Despite wearing mostly my uniforms, I wanted some of my yoga pants and tees, even if Stiff was dead-set on me wearing his.
He shrugged. “Sure.” He turned the Jeep in the direction of my house.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“How come none of the brothers come and pick me up on their bikes? Whenever you or anyone besides Stiff come, you always have a vehicle. Is there a reason for that?” I’d learned many things during my stay with the Vipers, but there were still things I had questions about.
“Yep. Don’t ride on the back of a man’s bike unless you’re his woman. You’re not mine, so we don’t ride.”
This made sense. I had only seen Spook with Trixie on the back of his. The others, I hadn’t seen anyone.
“Is that a rule or something?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, Chels.”
“Why don’t you have a woman?”
His chuckle died, and I instantly regretted the question.
“Never mind,” I said quickly.
“It’s all good, Chelsea. Long story. Don’t really wanna talk about it. Maybe some other time.”
“Okay,” I replied.
We rode the rest of the way to my place in silence. When we pulled up, it looked exactly the same: beat to hell, rusty, and way used. However, it was mine, and I knew the inside was better than the out.
“I’ll just be a minute,” I told him, grabbing the door handle.
“Hang on there. I’m comin’, too.” He rolled out and came behind me as I inserted the key into the new lock Stiff had put in. He’d wanted to change the door, but since I was moving, he’d decided not to.
I opened the door wide and stopped dead. That was because someone wrapped an arm around my neck, tucking my back to a front, and placed a gun at my temple.
Boner pulled a gun from somewhere. The gun at my temple left, and two shots were put into Boner.
I screamed as Boner’s gun went off, pinging somewhere in the room as he crumbled to the ground. My heart pounded as I tried to get out of the hold to help him, but I couldn’t.
A black boot kicked the door shut. Then I was turned, and the lock on the door was bolted. The arm around my neck released me, and I turned around to see my father, or at least a version of him.
The man before me looked similar, but the years had not been kind. His face was sunken in to the point he didn’t have cheeks, the skin concave. His eyes were wired, looking everywhere, unable to settle on one thing. He had the same sores as Stiff’s mom on his face. He also had no meat on his bones, his T-shirt hanging loosely. He needed one about three sizes smaller.
Not only that, but he had a gun pointed at me.
“Dad?” I asked.
“Money.” He sniffled and moved his head around frantically. “I need money. He’s comin’ for me, and I need money.”
He kept repeating himself, and I wasn’t sure if he was high or if he was coming down from one. I didn’t know much about drugs or their effects, so I was winging this.
“I don’t have any money.”
He waved the gun frantically at me, and I stepped back with my hands up.
“Bullshit. Don’t you lie to me.” He aimed the gun up and down my clothes. “You were workin’. You’ve got somethin’.”
I did. I had about two hundred dollars from tips for a twelve-hour shift, but he didn’t need to know that. I just needed to calm him down and get the hell out of here to check on Boner.
“I did, but I don’t have any on me.”
That was when my father shot at my feet. I jumped a mile high and moved into the kitchen, farther away from him.
“I can’t believe you just shot at me.” I gasped, surprised as hell. How could a man do that to his own daughter?
“I can’t believe you’re still fuckin’ talkin’. You don’t wanna end up like your fuck-buddy out there; you’d better give me your fuckin’ cash!” He punctuated each word, growing louder and louder.
Fear hit me, but I hid it because that would not help me in this situation. Obviously, talking wasn’t going to help, either.
As much as it killed me, I reached into my purse and pulled out the bills, holding them up to him.
He stalked closer and tore them out of my hand. He stared at the money then shook it at me. “This is all you have!” he roared like it was my fault I’d only gotten two hundred bucks today. I thought it was a pretty good take.
“That’s all I have.”
“Lying bitch!” His arm holding the gun came up.
I tried to get away from it but couldn’t before he landed a hard blow across my cheek. I fell hard to the tile floor and held my face as warm liquid ran through my fingers.
Anger mixed with the fear, but this was a battle I wasn’t going to win. He was too far gone to care about anything except the money. I had no doubt he would shoot me just like he had Boner. As a result, I kept my temper in check and slowly rose from the floor.
My father picked my purse up off the floor and shuffled through it. He found my checkbook and put it in his back pocket then opened my wallet. He found my ID, my lone credit card, and a few more dollars inside of it. He took it all and put it in his back pocket. He even opened up the small zipper and grabbed the change, too.
“Stupid, lying bitch!” he roared at me.
No, this wasn’t the man who’d played board games with me when I was younger. This wasn’t the man I remembered at all. This man, I didn’t know.
“I need more!” He grabbed me by my shirt and shook me, and I brought my hands up to his wrists.
“I don’t have any more.” It was true. I didn’t. All of my money was locked up at the bank. I went often, and thank the gods I’d gone yesterday, or I would have a lot more in my possession.
“You’re lying!” he roared again then pulled me back to my bedroom, throwing me on the bed.
“Hello, look at the trailer I live in. I don’t have anything!” I yelled back at him, but he ignored me and started going through my drawers, tossing clothes out. Then he moved to the closet and did the same.
“Get up,” he told me when he couldn’t find anything, pointing the gun at my head, and I slinked from the bed.
He lifted the mattress, and I took that as my opportunity.
I jumped up from the floor and raced down the small hallway. Searing pain hit my leg, and I collapsed to the ground as loud sounds echoed through the space. Shot. Blood.
“You stupid bitch!” he said again then grabbed my hair and pulled me toward the living room. He tossed me to the side as I inspected the wound.
There was a lot of blood, and I needed to stop it. Slowly, I took off my belt as my father tore apart my living room, finding no money.
The shot had hit me in the thigh, and as much as it fucking hurt, I was a Miller. I’d be damned if I didn’t go down swinging.
I wrapped the belt around my leg, pulled it tight, and bit my lip because the pain was so intense I wanted to scream. I latched the belt and breathed heavy.
“Don’t fuckin’ move,” he ordered then rummaged through my kitchen. All of my garage sale finds crashed to the floor, shattering. A piece of a mug slid across the floor toward me right as glass began to shatter.
I tried shifting as utensils came flying at me from every direction. I covered my head as pieces hit me. I needed to get out of here. I needed help. The door was only feet away, and I needed to get to it.
“I should fuckin’ kill you then go to your bitch of a mother and do her in and that whack job she calls a mother! Fuckin’ kill you all!” he ranted, stepping back in front of me, waving the gun around wildly. However, he was not really paying attention to me, more frantic in looking around at my destroyed paradise.
/> I scanned the floor. The only thing I could find was a fork. It wasn’t much, but better than nothing. I grabbed it, putting it under my good leg.
When his focus came back to me, he grabbed me again, pulling me up. Knowing it was now or never, I tightened my grip on the fork, and with everything I had, I plunged it into his eye then tried with the other hand to get the gun.
He screamed as we tussled.
A shot rang out, and blistering pain hit my temple as I was hit across the head. Then blackness seeped in.
“GET TO CHELSEA’S. Her father’s here. He shot me twice and has Chelsea.” Boner’s words were broken in my ear as I waved my arm to the guys, and we all hopped on our bikes.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Heard screamin’. Got clipped twice. Losing a lot of blood.” Boner sounded weak, and that was something he was not.
“Fuck. Hang on, brother.”
“Try,” he murmured. Then the line went dead.
We were about a half-hour from Chelsea’s place and wouldn’t get there in enough time. I called Spook, who answered on the second ring.
“Brother. Need you and whoever’s there to get to Chelsea’s. Boner’s been shot, and Chelsea’s screaming. Her father’s there.”
“Fuck!” Spook roared. “Be there in ten.”
The small relief that he would be there soon did nothing for my fear and anger. I’d just found her. I couldn’t let anything happen to her. Not now, not ever.
As Xander, Hooch, Dawg, and I pulled up to Chelsea’s house, I saw Spook and Bosco outside, their eyes coming to mine.
I hopped off. “Where is she?”
“Not here, brother.”
My eyes darted between the two. “What do you mean not here?” I roared, stomping to the trailer with Spook on my heels. The place was trashed, and blood coated the floor. I hoped like fuck that wasn’t Chelsea’s.
“Not here, but someone is … on her bed.”
