Saving Dallas Forever

by Kim Jones

  “Y’all get dressed, and let’s go get some breakfast.” I had never felt so low in all of my life. The disapproval in Ronnie’s face cut straight to my heart, leaving me feeling like I had let him down. Being in a head-on collision with a Mack truck couldn’t have felt worse. Thank God for Red, and her ability to turn any awkward moment into a fun one.

  “Yes! Breakfast! Oh thank God, Ronnie. I could see my ribs.” Ronnie broke eye contact with me to lean back with a laugh, as his eyes landed adoringly on Red.

  “Don’t worry, sugar. I ain’t gonna let you starve.” I watched as he slipped his arm around her shoulder, and led them all through the door and back into the clubhouse. I stood, staring at the closed door as if I were a kid who had just been put in the corner. I was embarrassed, heartbroken, and alone. It was the most awful feeling I had ever experienced.

  “Ya feeling like you lost your best friend?” Luke asked from behind me. I nodded, my eyes still focused on the closed door. “Wishing you’d done something different?” I nodded again, feeling my eyes burn, as tears formed at the back of them. “Is the shame so heavy in your chest that you feel like an elephant is sitting on it?” This time, the tears spilled over my eyes as my bottom lip involuntarily poked out, trying to stop the sob that was soon to come. Luke wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck, resting his chin on my shoulder, and following my gaze to the closed door. “That’s good, babe.” I turned into his chest, letting my tears fall freely, as I searched his eyes for reason.

  “How is that good? How can anything about this feeling be good?” I asked, choking back another sob. Luke smiled that unbelievably handsome smile that said he was proud of me, although he had no reason to be.

  “Because it means you care.”

  Chapter 14

  Dallas

  I stood in the bathroom, practicing my happy face, which I would have to force on once we joined the others for breakfast. I wanted to stay home and shield myself from the disapproving eyes of Ronnie, and the rest of the club. I didn’t mind if the ladies found my actions wrongful, it was the brothers that I didn’t want to hate me. Why? I had no idea. Luke said it was because I cared, which I did, but proving myself to them was going to be hard. How would I ever convince them that I could act like a good sister and be someone they could confide in and depend on? The women knew what I was going through because they were, well, they were women. We all had that ugly bitch lurking inside us somewhere, and she often reared her repulsive face at the most unwelcome and awkward moments; usually when we were surrounded by people to whom we were trying hard to prove our loyalty.

  “Ready, babe?” Luke asked, peeking round the bathroom door.

  “I don’t want them to hate me.” I pouted, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I might have looked like a biker chick in my black long-sleeved shirt, studded belt, tight jeans, and wedged, thigh-high riding boots, but I damned sure didn’t act like one.

  “They don’t hate you, babe. We have all let one another down at some point. Look on the bright side,” I eyed him incredulously, biting my tongue to keep from asking what the fuck was bright about any side of this scenario. “You could have refused to back down and forced Chi Chi to settle your problems right there and then, but whatever she said to you convinced you that it was best to leave things as they were. No one is going to hold it against you. Stop beating yourself up.” I sighed in frustration at Luke’s obvious lack of knowledge. “I know, my words don’t help, but you will get over it babe, and so will they.” Okay, so maybe Luke did have knowledge, but it still didn’t help with my frustration. Panic filled me as I remembered something much more important than the club hating me.

  “I forgot my cut,” I whispered to Luke, my eyes the size of saucers, as I started to lose my self-control. How could I be so stupid to forget it? My first ride would be without the weight of my leather, and I might as well have been naked.

  “Babe,” Luke said calmly, but I didn’t have time for calm.

  “What am I going to do? They’re going to think I’m an idiot.”

  “Babe,”

  “I don’t want to go. Tell them I’m sick.” I couldn’t go out with all of them. No fucking way. I would just change clothes and take my car. No one would expect me to wear a black leather vest with my blue sundress with the brown, braided, leather belt. That would be like a slap in the face to Dolce and Gabbana.

  “Babe,” Luke said, a little louder this time, pushing his way into my thoughts.

  “What?” I snapped, wanting to scream bloody murder until his smirk disappeared. I was at my wits end, and was just fixing to open my mouth to release a blood-curdling scream, when he dangled my cut in front of my face, waving it from side to side on the tip of his finger. Relief flooded me, and I almost hit my knees. “Oh thank fuck, Luke.” I said, eyeing the beautiful patches that covered the back.

  “Don’t thank fuck, whoever the hell that is. Thank Luke. I’m the one who brought it for you.” I kissed Luke’s smirking face and pulled back, rewarding him with a smile reserved for his eyes only. “There’s my girl.” His girl. That would never get old. “Okay, let’s go,” he said, hurrying me, as I grabbed my black leather, cross-body Balenciaga bag. Here goes nothing.

  We entered the bar area of the clubhouse to find everyone waiting for us. Just fucking great. I expected an eye roll, and a sigh from each one of them, but they greeted us, everyone hugging Luke good morning, while the ones I had not seen hugged me. Big Al walked up, punching the air before he hugged me, earning him a humorless look from me that just made him laugh harder.

  “I’m gonna nick-name you Tyson.” He said, oblivious to Chi Chi and Shark, who stood within hearing range of him. Hell, maybe he was aware of them, and just didn’t give a shit.

  “You are a little small to have a nickname like Tyson,” came a deep voice from beside me. I looked up… and up some more to find the face of a man I recognized as Brayson, or Brad, or something like that. I gave him an apologetic look, and he smiled in return. “Devil’s Renegades Sergeant At Arms, Bryce. Good to see you again, Dallas.”

  “Bryce. Right. Sorry, I’m terrible with names. It’s very good to see you too.” Bryce was a monster in size, with fingers so huge there was no way he could pick his nose. He looked so much like the wrestler The Big Show that he could easily have been his twin brother. Where Shark was the Sergeant At Arms that screamed ‘killer,’ Bryce was the one that whispered ‘peace.’ Luke had informed me that the Sergeant At Arms was in charge of the club’s security and the protection of the president, and Brooklyn had told me that although one would think a Sergeant At Arms was supposed to just kick ass first and take names later, he actually needed to be level-headed, and must avoid confrontation at all costs, yet be prepared to meet confrontation head-on with an iron fist if need be. My guess was that Bryce was the peacekeeper who tried to reason with people, and Shark was the one they called when reasoning was no longer an option, not that Bryce looked like he needed any kind of reinforcements. I was sure he could take on the whole city of Lake Charles without breaking a sweat.

  “Y’all ready?” Ronnie asked, his voice rising over everyone else’s.

  “Yes!” Red agreed in excitement, causing Ronnie to laugh that breathy laugh I loved. Well, used to love. Now it pained me that it wasn’t me who would be making him laugh anytime soon.

  “I got some sausage for you, baby, if you that hungry.” Regg said with a smile, and when my eyes found his face, it was looking at mine. “Hey, darlin’,” he said, his thick country accent pouring out like warm honey. Well, at least Regg still loved me. “Don’t hit me,” he added, pulling his hands back when he got close.

  “Ha ha ha.” I said, narrowing my eyes at him, but unable to hide my smile. Big Al must have thought that was the funniest shit ever, since he was doubled over in laughter. I’m glad at least someone was finding humor in my turmoil. Regg hugged me hard, then wrapped his arm around my shoulder, as he led us out the door and to the bikes.


  “Ain’t nobody tried to kill you lately? Well, other than Chi Chi,” he added with a laugh. I ignored his last remark.

  “No. Not lately.”

  “Well, shit.” I slapped his arm playfully. “What? There ain’t ever a dull moment around you.” I rolled my eyes at him, but what he said held so much truth that I actually felt guilty. He felt my tension and squeezed me tighter. “Just kiddin’, babe.”

  “You sure are a funny fucker today.” Luke said, coming up behind us. Regg winked at me, but didn’t say anything, as he walked off toward his bike to join Red. I followed Luke to his bike, taking my helmet from his hand and putting it on, waiting for him to mount. I looked down at the perfect line of bikes that were in order of officer positions. It started with Ronnie and Brooklyn, then Luke and myself, Possum and Punkin, Big Al and Mary, Bryce, Shark and Chi Chi, Regg and Red, Kyle and Katina, Marty and Maddie, and finally Chris. My eyes swung back to Marty and Maddie, who nobody seemed to notice were riding together, other than me. Everyone wore full-face helmets and drove black bikes. I wasn’t sure if that was mandatory, or just the way it had happened to play out. Luke patted my leg, letting me know he was ready for me to get on, and I stepped on the foot peg with my left foot, and slung my right leg around the back of the bike. I was getting pretty good at this. The bikes were cranked in the same order they were parked, starting with Ronnie. No one turned their bike over until the one to their left did first. We pulled out onto the busy side street, the pack riding so close that traffic was forced to stop to let everyone out. I held on tight as we rocketed down the road, surpassing the speed limit before shifting out of third gear. Cars seemed to move out of the way when they saw us coming. When we passed a business or a residence where people were outside, they stopped and watched until we were out of sight. I felt superior, important, and intimidating as we flew through lights; although they changed in the middle of the pack, everyone surged forward. We stopped at a busy intersection that was a four-way stop sign, forcing us to remain patient as the cars slowly moved in front of us. Luke adjusted the volume on the radio, that sat inside the big, black fairing on the front of the bike, allowing Bon Jovi’s ‘Wanted, Dead or Alive’ to rattle the windows on the car in front of us. How fitting that this song was playing. I caught a motion out of the corner of Luke’s rearview mirror and found Red flailing her arms around like she was flying. I tapped Luke’s shoulder and pointed, and he just shook his head as his abs flexed under my hands, letting me know he was laughing. I looked over at Brooklyn to find her studying her fingernails, and Ronnie bobbing his head in rhythm with the music. My grip tightened as we made it to the stop sign, and before Luke could put his feet down, we were off again. Ronnie led us up a steep hill to a restaurant that served breakfast twenty-four hours. Once the bikes were parked, everyone who smoked pulled out a cigarette and lit up, while we talked about the ride. I watched as all the women, except Mary, gathered together, while the guys did the same. Mary was wiping down the bike with a towel, and I started to ask if I should do the same when Red chimed in.

  “She does that shit. Now, we will all have to hear the guys bitch about how we should be a little more like Mary.” I watched as Mary flipped her the finger, as she continued to remove any dust from the bike.

  “What were you doing flailing your arms around?” I asked Red, trying to smooth my hair down and get rid of my terrible case of helmet-head. The humidity made it impossible to make it even resemble something presentable, but all the women seemed to have the same problem.

  “She does that shit,” Mary said, walking up, and throwing Red’s words back at her. “She’s always singing and dancing, acting like some crazed idiot.” This time it was Red’s turn to flip the finger, as everyone started to slowly make their way inside. The restaurant housed booths large enough to sit four. Brooklyn, Red, Maddie, and myself sat in one, while Mary, Katina, Chi Chi, and Punkin sat in the other. A waitress approached, passing us to go to the guys. Luke sat on the outside of the booth, making him her target. When he flashed her his million-dollar smile, she all but melted into a pile of mush on the floor. She wore her hair in dreads, her nails long, her skin tanned, and her tits falling out the top of her shirt. Red started to strike up conversation, not realizing what was going on because her back was to them.

  “Shh!” I said, in a whisper, grabbing her hand to halt her speech. Her eyes followed mine, as did the other ladies’, as we all sat and watched the scene unfold.

  “Hey handsome,” the waitress said, dragging her long fingernail down Luke’s arm. I felt my whole body still. I didn’t know this woman. She didn’t know me. She might think he was single. I didn’t care. I wanted to rip her fucking finger off, and throw it in the deep fryer.

  “Hello, Renee. It’s a pleasure to see you, as always.” Renee? Always? A pleasure? He knew her? I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned to see Punkin poking her head between me and Maddie.

  “You want me to shank her? I can kill that bitch with this spoon, and she won’t ever know what hit her,” she said, loud enough for the guys in front of us to hear, prompting them to burst out in fit of laughs disguised as coughs. I didn’t acknowledge Punkin, but seriously considered her offer when I watched Renee run her hands through Luke’s hair.

  “It was a pleasure, wasn’t it?” I started to get up when Brooklyn spoke.

  “Yo, bitch. We would like some service if you are through fucking with my sister’s ol’ man. Can’t you see the bitch has a property patch? Do you not see that big fuckin’ LLC on the front of her vest?” I could have kissed Brooklyn for this. At the sound of her voice, the waitress dropped her hand from Luke, but the smile remained, as she leaned down on the table, taking their order. Regg seemed to be loving the voluptuous breasts that all but fell in his lap, but Red didn’t seem to care. She looked up to see me watching her, and gave me a quizzical look.

  “What? That bitch’s balls ain’t big enough to touch my ol’ man. If she wants to pour those fake-ass titties out for him to look at that’s fine, but if she lays a hand on him I’ll cut that bitch up in her own restaurant and place her in her own fuckin’ cooler, and burn this motherfucker down with her in it.” I sat in shock at Red’s outburst, which was loud enough for everyone, including Renee, to hear.

  “Shut up, Red,” I heard Regg say, from two tables down.

  “I got my point across, though.” Red said, her voice lower this time, but loud enough so that Regg heard once again. Damn, he had some good ears.

  “Last warning. Shut your fucking mouth.” I had never heard Regg take that tone with anyone, and, as if he had slapped her mouth shut, Red’s lips closed immediately, as she scanned the menu. When Renee finally made it to our table, her enthusiasm was less than barely there, it was non-existent.

  “Ladies,” she greeted us, shortly. “What can I get you all to drink?” We all ordered something different, not purposefully, but I was glad we were making her job a little harder. I watched her scurry off, giving our ticket to a young girl who looked scared to death, before heading to the back.

  “So she owns this place?” I asked, remembering Red’s rant.

  “Yeah, but when the guys come in here she always waits on them. Especially if Luke is around,” Maddie said, as I felt a commotion under the table. Someone had kicked her for opening her mouth.

  “Oh, really? Do her and Luke have a history?” I attempted nonchalance, but nothing got past these women.

  “Dallas, do you really want to know?” Brooklyn asked, giving me that face that said I didn’t.

  “Yes, I want to know. Luke knows everything about me, so why can’t I know about him? I’m not gonna hold it against him. It was in the past.” The chatter among the guys had picked up and everyone, other than the four at our table, was unaware of our conversation.

  “Sometimes she comes to the clubhouse for entertainment,” Brooklyn said shortly, hoping that would be enough to appease me. It wasn’t.

  “What do you mean entertainment?” I asked, wonderi
ng if she was a stripper or a dancer.

  “She’s a dick-sucker. A pass-around. A clubhouse whore who tends to the single guys while they are away from their current pussy project.” Well, I definitely wasn’t expecting that, and my face showed it.

  “Hey, you said you wanted to know. Now you do. Be careful what you ask for. If you’re asking me, you’re gonna get that shit straight. I tried to dissuade you, but you just had to know.” Brooklyn was right, as always, and from now on, I would keep my mouth closed, and my inquiring mind quiet when she warned me to.

  “What’s a current pussy project?” Maddie asked, entering the conversation, and steering it away from Luke and Renee.”

  “You know, when they don’t have a girlfriend or an ol’ lady. Instead they have a go-to girl. A booty call.” Brooklyn explained. Luke had a pussy project? Was she from Hattiesburg? Did I know her?

  “Stop it,” Red said, snapping her fingers in my face. “You’re going to drive yourself crazy with this shit. He’s a man. He was a single man for a very long time. He fucked people. Get over it.”

  “This is true, Dallas. If it makes you feel better, you were fucking people too. Hell you were looking for a one-night stand when you found Luke.” Maddie said, never looking up from her phone. Out of sheer curiosity, I looked over to see Marty’s head down too, and he was also looking at his phone.

  “Maddie, do you always ride with Marty when they go places?” I asked, finding an opportunity for privacy, while Red and Brooklyn were engaged in a conversation of their own.

  “Yeah. Even when he was prospecting and we were going somewhere local, Luke would let me tag along with him.”

  “Don’t you think that shows that he trusts him?”