Trust Me: A Bad Boy MC Romance

by Cristal Pierre

  Unless, you know. They did.

  Two more Molotov cocktails came flying inside, the second one landing real close to the bar, where there were several dozen gallons of highly flammable cheap liquor just waiting to ignite. A shudder went through my body as I was quickly realizing that I couldn't stop this by myself. The tables were burning, a banner had caught fire and I was sweating balls. And just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, the fire extinguisher ran out of foam.

  I was fucked.

  I turned and ran for the back door where everyone else had evacuated, stifling my tears and choking on smoke. As I darted past the bar, a bottle caught fire and exploded. I loosed a primal, gut-wrenching scream and hurtled outside as my beloved Den went up in flames.

  Outside, the Wildcats were waiting for us. They faced us with their clubs, knives, and guns ready and we squared off.

  "What the fuck is going on!?" I yelled, whipping out my knife. "You fuckers are the ones who broke the code by coming to my fucking house and threatening my family—"

  "And we're just repaying you for your warning," sneered the fat fucker who had come to my place yesterday. He had no weapons. Just giant fists. "You redecorated our hangout so nicely, I thought we'd return the favor."

  "Fuck you!" I spat, leaping in his direction, stopped only by Charlie grabbing the back of my jacket. "You can't burn down my bar!"

  "We can, and we did," the guy laughed. "The fuck you gonna do about it, bitch?"

  I screamed again, struggling against Charlie's hold on me. He was lucky I was shorter than him because I was so pissed that I might've killed the guy if given the chance.

  "You wanna go!?" I cried, shaking with rage. "You wanna try me, you fat fuck? Fuckin' try me!"

  "No, we don't wanna fight," he said with false, sickly sweetness. "But we do have a parting gift for you, which we brought in case no one was home."

  One of his cronies came forward and threw something furry and brown at my feet. I gagged a little when I realized it was a dead, bloody, headless dog.

  "Consider that your final warning. Pay up, or shit's gonna go down. And I said two weeks yesterday, but after that fuckin' stunt you pulled, you got three days. Or someone's gonna get hurt. I've got my eye on that skinny chick with the black hair. She looks like she'd be fun to break."

  With that, the Wildcats all turned and left in a cacophony of motorcycle engines revving and belching. Had Charlie not been there to restrain me, there probably would've been a huge fight right about now. I stared at the dead dog, my face feeling cold as I thought about what he had said about Candy. I couldn't let this happen to her. I couldn't let anything happen to her. I had no choice but to pay the fuckers. Charlie's hand moved from gripping my jacket to rest on my shoulder as the guys congregated and started talking shit. A firetruck siren blared in the distance, coming our way, as I heard bottle another bottle of liquor explode inside my beloved Den. I felt defeated and had no idea where I was gonna get that kind of money in such a short amount of time. Three days to come up with ten grand felt pretty fuckin' impossible at that moment.

  "Don't worry, boss, we've got some leads on a couple of bikes. If we make a deal, you can have my cut to help pay those bastards."

  I looked up at Charlie and nodded just once. I knew he needed the money— we all did, it's not like we were criminals for fun. It meant a lot to me that he was willing to give me his cut to get the Cats off our back. I still doubted we could make enough in time, though... short sales were hard to come by. But I wasn't gonna denigrate his offer by saying something like that.

  "Thanks, man," was all I could say.

  "Something'll come through, boss, it's got to."

  "Sure." I nodded. "Sure it will. You're right, Charlie. Maybe we can collect on the Den's insurance policy."

  "Yeah, right," Charlie laughed because we both knew the Den didn't have a fuckin' insurance policy. "Is that your phone goin' off?"

  I looked around and then down at my pocket. I had barely heard it, but now that Charlie mentioned it, my phone was ringing. I took it out and instantly recognized the number.

  It was Candy. I had about a million missed calls from her and a handful of frantic texts.

  Are you okay?

  What's happening?

  Please call me

  Call me back ASAP

  What's happened to you? Did I hear an explosion??

  Ty, I'm really worried about you, please call back!

  As guilty as I felt about letting her worry, I couldn't deal with her just yet. I was too shaken and too sad. If I talked to Candy right this minute, I knew I was probably gonna cry or something and I couldn't do that in front of the guys. Not right now. I took a deep breath, then exhaled very slowly. I had a huge mess to clean up. I turned my phone off and put it in my pocket, praying to whatever god was listening that Candy would be okay until I got back to her.

  Somehow, I knew she would.

  ***

  After talking the situation over with Charlie and the guys, I could think of only one thing to do.

  I had to sell my bike.

  Most of the bikes we sold were sorta counterfeit, bikes we bought real cheap and then spruced up to look nice and rare, flipping them at ten or twenty times the original price. My bike, however, was genuine. It was a 1952 Vincent Black Shadow, the kinda bike that sold for two hundred grand in mint condition. Mine was nowhere near mint. I had found it at a junkyard and bought it for a couple hundred bucks because the junkyard owner had no clue what it was. Once I restored it, it ran like new and I had it painted flat black. That bike had been my baby for about three years. Reminiscing about it, I started wondering how much I could get for one of my kidneys…

  I really didn't wanna sell that bike.

  I remembered that Candy's stupid boyfriend supposedly had money. He was gonna buy a bike off of us and everything. After the Wolves had roughed him up, he probably wouldn't be too keen on loaning us ten grand, though, so that seemed like a dead end as well.

  The thought of selling my baby weighed on my shoulders as I rode home. Unless we found someone else willing to buy one of our other bikes, this was the only way. I knew I could sell her for a lot of money and fast. Hell, she'd sell for enough that we could probably afford to have Justin's arm fixed. Thinking of it that way, I actually felt kinda guilty that I didn't come up with the idea sooner. I'd do anything for Justin, even sell my bike.

  When I got home, I went for a walk around the block. I texted Charlie, Start calling around. I'm selling my bike. I then dialed Candy, because she had been in the back of my mind all day. I had no clue what I was gonna tell her.

  "Ty!" Her voice was ragged. I felt horrible for leaving her in the dark for so long and making her worry. "Jesus Christ! Are you okay!?"

  "I'm fine," I reassured her, my voice much softer than I intended it to be. I didn't sound tough at all. But, I didn't want to be tough with her right now anyway, I wanted to make her feel better. "Just had a little bit of, uh... an incident."

  "Incident?" she repeated, her voice hollow. "Ty, I heard yelling, and— and I thought I heard an explosion—"

  "I'm fine, okay?" I snapped because I didn't want to lie to her about what happened, but I wasn't about to tell her the truth, either. "Did you get my text?"

  "W-what? Oh... uh..." She sounded hurt that I had raised my voice. I felt like a monster, as I so often did when talking to normal people. "About coming over tomorrow?"

  "Yeah. I need your help with something."

  "Oh. Um... okay? What's up?"

  "My Ma's birthday is the day after tomorrow. I was wonderin' if maybe... y'know, she's gonna be fifty and all that, and we could use some help throwing a party and I'm lousy at baking... what d'you say?"

  Candace was silent for a moment, but those few seconds dragged on for what seemed like hours. I wished I could see her face, to know what she was thinking, or at least be able to guess. She probably thought I was stupid or some mama's boy or whatever—

  "Of c
ourse," she said, at last, her voice soft and warm. "I'd be happy to help you guys."

  "Thanks, Candy," I said, smiling at my feet. "That's real sweet of you."

  "When should I come over?"

  "You can get here by lunchtime. See ya then."

  "Okay, Ty. G'night."

  I hung up the phone with a nauseous mix of feelings in my stomach. Candy made me feel like I had never felt before. She made me feel… different. I mean I had kinda felt like that with Alice, but with Candy, it was about a hundred times stronger. It was good to feel this way again, but it was bittersweet, on account of Candy having a boyfriend. Not to mention, a guy like me is no good for a gentle soul like her. Technically she'd already come close to getting hurt because of me, and it was bound to happen again if we kept seeing each other... but, could I make myself stop seeing her? Was I man enough for that?

  "Ty Jameson Franklin!" my Ma bellowed as I walked in the door, and behind her, Justin was freaking out too. They were both staring at me with huge eyes, stunned. Ma slowly rose from the couch. "Honey, what happened to your face?"

  "Huh?" My hand drifted to my cheek where I was surprised to feel the skin was blistered and hot, but my face was numb. I hadn't even noticed in all the hustle that I'd gotten kinda burned, probably when the liquor bottles started exploding. "N-nothing, just a bar fight, you know how it is—"

  "Just a bar fight?" Ma looked wounded, her chin trembling. "Are you sure about that?"

  I didn't even know how to answer that, so I just shrugged.

  "I saw it on the evening news, Ty, I know the Den burned down..."

  "Oh." I hung my head. I didn't even know why I had tried to lie to her in the first place. So stupid. "Yeah."

  "So why are you trying to tell me it was a bar fight?" She came over to me and put her hand on my shoulder, but I stepped back, bristling. "What? You can't be honest with your own mother?"

  My nostrils flared. The steam was building. She had no idea the shit I'd done for the family, for her, and she had no idea how much I'd had to lie to her, and how much it hurt me every time. Years of lies I was holding back and I was so fucking ashamed, I couldn't even look at her face. It was just too much. She tried to touch me again and I turned my back on her, tearing at my hair.

  "Just leave me the fuck alone," I growled.

  She inhaled sharply and stood there for a second. I could feel her eyes on my back, burning holes right through my leather jacket, until she finally turned around and walked back to her room, shutting the door— loudly— and locking it.

  "That was harsh, man," said Justin from behind me. "You shouldn't talk to Ma like that."

  I sighed. I was so tired. I knew better than to talk to Ma like that, of course, I did. I didn't want to, it just kind of... happened. Sometimes, I didn't even feel like I was in control of my own body. I was so tired of being strong and tough, my legs suddenly felt like lead. I sank to the floor right there, to my knees, staring at the dingy beige carpet.

  I heard Justin's chair revving and buzzing as he came over to me. "Need a hug?"

  "Fuck no."

  "Okay." Justin considered things for a moment, then nudged my shoulder with his foot. "Hey, you wanna play Smash Bros?"

  I sighed again, this time in resignation. My life was fucked, my bar— the Wolves' headquarters and my main source of income— was gone, my Ma was mad at me. Candy was hurt because of me, I needed ten thousand dollars in three days and I couldn't even come up with the money to get Justin's arm fixed, but dammit, he was there for me. And he was always good for a round of Smash Brothers. It was one of the few games he could play successfully as button-mashing was a decent strategy. My mouth quirked to the side as I looked up at him, and I had to admit that even though I was the "strong" one, Justin was pretty tough in his own way.

  "Yeah." I got up and followed him back over to the couch, then flung myself down and turned on the console.

  "Did you talk to Candy?"

  "Yeah."

  "And...?"

  "She's coming over tomorrow, around lunchtime."

  "Ty?"

  I handed Justin his controller. "Yeah?"

  "What really happened to you tonight?"

  I looked over at him and thought about telling him the whole truth. He knew a lot more about my so-called work than Ma did, but I didn't tell him everything. I wanted to tell him just so I could get it off my chest, but the words made my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth, like peanut butter. I shook my head. "I don't wanna talk about it."

  "Okay, dude. I'm here when you want to. I wanna play Samus."

  "You always play as Samus," I said, relaxing back into the couch as we started our game, trying to ignore the sound of my mother crying in her bedroom.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Candace

  I spent that evening with my parents just to make them feel better since I'd been home for almost three days now and barely spoken a word to them. It was awkward and kind of sad, how they were still stuck in their old ways, not really caring about anything other than football games, church services, and taxes. Mom made a huge dinner and kept looking at me expectantly, almost hawkish. It made me so uncomfortable. I might've actually had an appetite if she wasn't being so damn weird! We didn't even talk about anything, really, Dad just droned on about his favorite sports teams while Mom complained about church politics. Neither of them asked me about school or Brad or anything, it was all very depressing.

  All I could think about was Ty. I couldn't wait to go over to his place the next day. Honestly, every time I thought about it, I got a little flutter in my stomach. I was excited! I was looking forward to hanging out with him and Justin, soaking up all their warm, positive energy.

  In a way, it was kind of funny that I thought of this supposedly dangerous biker guy as "warm and positive" while my own mother felt like a stranger. As I lay in bed that night, somewhere between wide awake and completely exhausted, I thought about something I'd heard in group therapy years ago— something called "family of choice". It had never occurred to me before that even I could choose my family. I guess if I really could, I'd choose Ty and Justin as my family, whether I wound up dating Ty or not.

  Whoa! Where did that come from? I had a boyfriend, I wasn't supposed to be thinking about dating someone else! But it was Ty floating through my mind at night, not Brad. Thinking about Brad made me feel kind of shaky and nauseated. Thinking about Ty made me feel warm and put a smile on my face. It wasn't supposed to be that way...

  But it was.

  ***

  The next morning I actually ate breakfast. I didn't eat to make my mom happy, I ate because I wanted to, because I knew that I'd feel good with Ty whether I was hungry or not, and frankly, being hungry isn't a whole lot of fun.

  "You're chipper this morning," Dad observed over his orange juice.

  "I guess so," I said with a little smile, sipping my coffee.

  "Are you going to visit Nina?" Mom asked. "She called here, looking for you."

  "Oh..." I wilted a little. Between the whole drama with Brad and all the excrement over Ty, I had completely forgotten about Nina. I felt like the worst friend in the world. I resolved to call her later and set up a time to meet. "No, just a... friend."

  "Just a friend?" Mom smiled knowingly. "A friend with large biceps, perhaps?"

  "Maybe," I said coyly. Actually, Ty was strong, but he wasn't really "big". He was kind of... wiry. Lean. Agile. Probably really good in bed—

  "You're blushing, so I'm going to take that as 'yes'. No more Brad then?" The note of hope in her voice grated on my nerves but also resonated with me. That was not a good sign.

  "I don't know," I sighed, and for once, I was being honest. "I... I'm really stressed with school right now, I'm trying not to make any, um... big decisions."

  "Okay." Mom replied, shoving a forkful of eggs in her mouth.

  After a late-ish breakfast, I went back up and got dressed. Usually, I was content to dress in a fairly casual, modest, somewhat girly
style, but today, I felt kind of... daring. Ty was so rough around the edges, he reminded me of my old self— my crazy self. But in a good way. Before my life went to shit, I used to be this uninhibited, shameless flirt. I would choose the pushiest push-up bra, a low-cut red top, black jeans that were so tight I could hardly bend my knees, and red ballet flats. I felt sexy as hell. I would've worn heels, but that seemed a bit much for going to hang out in the middle of the day.

  "You look nice," Mom said, the surprise in her voice only mildly offending me.

  "Er... thanks," I said, pulling on my jacket. "I dunno when I'll be back."

  "Okay, have a good time."

  I walked to Ty's place and by the time I knocked on his door, I was shivering. The temperamental March weather was treating us to a winter day. Still, I unzipped my jacket while I waited so that Ty would immediately get the full impact of my outfit. The door swung open and I got a deep satisfaction out of the stunned look on his face as he stared at my boobs and legs. Usually, I hated being ogled, but for some reason, being looked at like that by Ty just started a fire between my legs.

  "Can I come in?" I asked when he was silent for a few moments.

  "Oh— yeah, sorry, of course," he said, blinking rapidly and shaking his head. "Red's a good color on you."

  "Holy shit!" Justin exclaimed as he rolled past the front door.

  "Hi Justin," I said as I took off my jacket.

  "You look hot," he said.

  "Why thank you," I said, trying to sound more modest than I felt. I noticed that I was having a much easier time understanding his struggling speech this time, hopefully, Ty wouldn't have to translate as much today. "So... you need help baking a cake?"

  "Um... yeah." Ty looked genuinely embarrassed, digging his toes into the carpet. "Tomorrow's her birthday and she's gonna have a bunch of friends over, but I wanted to surprise her tonight cause I won't be able to make it tomorrow. Usually, we just buy a cake, but money's really tight this year."