by Nina Levine
She seemed to be a woman who didn’t waste words and that suited me fine today. The less speaking we did, the better.
Without a backwards glance at Wilder or Rogue, I headed to my car. Once inside, I sent a text to Scott to ask him to call me instead of Wilder and then I turned to the woman who had settled into the seat next to me. “I’m Harlow.”
Untrusting brown eyes stared back at me. “Scarlett.”
Again, very economical on the words. “Where in Woolloongabba do you need to go?”
She rattled off the address and then turned her head to stare out the window. As I drove, I stole glances at her and wondered what she had going on in her life to cause her so much anger.
“You always stare at people?” she asked without looking at me.
“Only people that intrigue me.”
Her head whipped around and her gaze found mine in that moment before I had to look back out the windscreen. “There’s nothing intriguing here, Harlow.”
I shook my head in disagreement. “I meet a lot of people through my work and I think you’re wrong. You’ve shown up twice now at the clubhouse and argued with men that most wouldn’t dream of taking on. All for your brother. Not a lot of people would do that and if that’s not intriguing, I don’t know what is.” I coughed as I got the words out and grimaced through the pain while I swallowed. My hands tightened on the steering wheel, drawing Scarlett’s attention.
“You got painkillers for that?” she asked.
“Yeah, I took some Advil this morning. It’s probably about time for some more.”
“I’ve got something better for you. After we pick up the t-shirts, I’ll get it for you.” Her words were direct and final, as if she expected no argument from me.
“T-shirts?” Maybe it was my fuzzy brain, but I couldn’t figure out what she meant by that statement. Not to mention the way she assumed I wanted whatever she had to offer me for my sore throat.
“Yeah, the t-shirts I’ve gotta collect at Woolloongabba.”
I frowned. “I thought I was dropping you off somewhere?”
She sighed as if I was exasperating her. “No, I’ve just gotta pick the shirts up and then take them home.”
Glancing at her for a moment before turning back to watch where I was driving, I asked, “Where do you live?”
“In The Valley.” She paused before asking, “Why is there a biker tailing you?”
My gaze flicked to the rear-view mirror and I sighed. “Because my boyfriend is trying to be kind to me while he’s away. He asked that guy to keep on eye on me while I’m sick and make sure I’m okay.”
“By the way you sighed, I’m taking that to mean you don’t appreciate his kindness?”
“No, I do…I just don’t like the guy he asked to help him. I’d prefer any of the other club members to this one.”
She shifted in her seat and rested her feet against the dash as if we were old friends and she had every right in the world to do that. If we were in anyone else’s car, I’d ask her to remove them, but I didn’t care in my car, so I said nothing. “Why did you get involved with a biker in the first place?”
The way she asked this question made me think she thought hooking up with a biker was the worst decision in the world. And yet, there didn’t seem to be any judgement in her tone. “Have you ever dated men who screwed you over?”
“Uh, yeah…haven’t we all?”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t think all women have, Scarlett. But I have, more than once. When I met Scott, I felt this instant awareness that he was as straight up as they came. And I was right – he’s always been honest with me, treated me well and stayed loyal. I fell in love with a man, not a biker.”
She silently processed that. “Why is there a sad tone in your voice?”
My brows pulled together. “What do you mean?”
“Just then, when you talked about him being loyal and treating you well, you sounded almost sad.”
I gripped the steering wheel a little harder and ignored the tightening in my chest. Tears threatened at the back of my eyes and I furiously blinked them away. How had she picked up on that?
As I tried to figure out how to answer her, she pointed to the street coming up on the left. “Turn here.”
I quickly indicated and made the turn, almost hitting a car because my focus had been diverted from driving to thinking about my guilt over taking Scott for granted after my miscarriage.
Scarlett straightened in her seat and said, “Jesus, are you trying to kill us today?”
Anger at myself took over, but I directed it at her. “Don’t ask me anymore personal questions and we might make it there in one piece,” I snapped while scowling at her.
She raised her brows and murmured, “I see I hit on a touchy subject.”
“Yes. And not one I want to discuss.”
We drove the rest of the way in silence, but I stewed on her question the whole way. By the time we arrived at our destination, I was tense with irritation and sick with my cold. Not a great combination.
And definitely not a mood to be in to deal with Rogue.
* * *
I waited outside the rundown old Queenslander Scarlett directed me to. The heat of the day and the lack of air conditioning in my car caused me to wait on the footpath. And this gave Rogue ample opportunity to harass me some more.
He lit a cigarette and sauntered my way, his eyes trailing down my body.
Asshole.
“I’ve known Scott Cole a long time and never once seen him this hung up on a chick. Gotta say, though, I’m hedging my bets as to how long this will last. My best guess is it won’t take him long to get tired of you and he’ll move on to new tits and ass soon.”
I stared at him in disgust knowing full well all he wanted was for me to take his bait and argue with him. It took all my willpower to remain silent, but I did. That only managed to make him try harder to elicit a response out of me.
Taking a step closer to me, he sneered, “You know I’m right so you’ve got no comeback, have you?”
Rogue was a good-looking man, but ugly was all I saw, and I wondered how many women had fallen for him and lived to regret it. I imagined that number to be high.
I took a step away from him, but his hand curled around my arm and held me in place. “Where do you think you’re going? I’m talking to you,” he barked, his dislike of me, clear in his tone.
Holding his gaze, I pried his fingers from my arm and shoved him away. Not an easy thing to do because he packed some muscle on his body and I wasn’t at my strongest while being sick. But I’d be damned if I didn’t at least try. “Scott asked you to watch me, not talk to me, so I suggest you back off and leave me alone.”
He stumbled backwards as I struggled to catch my breath. Anger sat heavy in my chest as my mind worked fast to figure out his next move. I was quickly learning that Rogue was the kind of man you had to be two steps ahead of at all times.
Darkness glinted in his eyes and his shoulders tensed as he steadied himself. “You fuckin’ bitch,” he spat and began moving closer again, however at that moment, Scarlett joined us and halted his progress.
“I don’t know much about bikers, dude, but I’m guessing it’s not a smart move to call another biker’s woman a fucking bitch.” She stared at Rogue, challenging him to argue with her. I had to give her credit – the woman had balls.
He turned his scowl her way. “Why don’t you shut the fuck up and stay out of business that doesn’t concern you?”
Before I could intercept – because, I really did think it was time to end this conversation with Rogue – she advanced on him. “Aren’t you the big man, asshole? I bet if Harlow’s man were here, you wouldn’t even dream of saying this shit to her. Does it make your dick feel bigger by picking on a woman?”
Rogue’s eyes bulged and the vein in his neck strained against his skin while his fists clenched.
Oh, shit.
I actually feared for Scarlett’s life in that m
oment.
And then my phone rang, and I was almost certain it saved us both.
“Hi, baby,” I answered the phone after checking caller ID and seeing it was Scott.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, and I could hear the alarm in his voice. “You sound off.”
I swallowed back my fear as my heart pounded in my chest. Meeting Rogue’s enraged glare, I replied, “I’m with Rogue and we’re okay.” I tried to put his mind at ease while also reminding Rogue that Scott knew who I was with today, and that if anything happened to me, Scott would be chasing him down first.
Rogue threw me one last filthy glare before turning and stalking back to his bike.
Thank you, God.
“Why do you sound so strange?” Scott asked. Although he was still questioning me, I could hear less concern in his voice than before.
“I’m with that woman who came to the clubhouse the other day. It’s probably just that.” This didn’t even sound plausible to me; I doubted Scott would buy it, but my mind couldn’t come up with anything else fast enough.
He was silent for a beat and then asked, “Is she giving you grief?”
“No, I’m actually driving her somewhere.”
“Jesus, Harlow, why?”
“It’s a long story and I’ll tell you when you get home if you still want to know, but for now, she needs that cash back she gave you the other day.”
“Griff will give it to you, but can you put her on the phone, I’ve got something to say to her,” he said. Frustration laced his words and my worry for him grew.
He’s got too much to deal with at the moment.
I did as he asked and passed the phone to Scarlett. “Scott wants to talk to you,” I said as I handed it over.
She took it with a raise of her brows.
I tuned their conversation out and turned my attention to Rogue who sat on his bike watching us. My gut told me to be very wary of this man and I decided to ask Blade to check him out.
Scarlett ended the call with Scott and handed me back my phone. “He said he’s going to get that Griff dude to get the money to me today. Thanks for organising that.”
“No worries.” I eyed the bags she held, which I presumed had her t-shirts in them. “Where do you need me to take you now? Just to your house?”
“Yeah, your guy said he’d get Griff to bring the money there, so that would be good.” She eyed Rogue. “I see why you don’t like that asshole. I’d be doing everything in my power to get rid of him if I were you.”
I nodded. “I’m working on it.”
Scott will be home soon and then everything will be all right.
* * *
“What are the t-shirts for?” I asked Scarlett as I watched her unpack them in her kitchen half an hour later.
“I sell them at the Southbank market on the weekends.” She began stacking them in styles on her kitchen counter.
“Oh, okay.” I had a friend who used to try to sell her art at those markets and never had any success, so I wondered if she was able to make much money doing that.
Her head snapped up and she shot me a dirty look. “Don’t stand there and judge me for my job choice.”
Whoa.
“I’m not judging you. The only thought running through my mind at the moment is whether you can pay your bills by doing that because I had a friend who was never able to when she sold her art there.”
“I do well out of it, and the best thing is, I work for myself. I report to no one and I’m off the grid.” I got the distinct impression she’d had this conversation many times. Her tone was almost defensive.
I opened my mouth to reply, but a cough took hold and I doubled over as it turned into a coughing fit. Pain racked my body and I squeezed my eyes shut. This cold was the worst one I’d had in a long time.
Scarlett moved so she could place her hand on my back and rubbed it for me. When I finally stopped coughing, I straightened and she said, “Grab a stool and sit for a moment while I make you some tea.” She left me no room to argue, and waited until I’d done as she said before exiting the room onto her balcony.
I folded my arms on the counter and rested my head on them while she was gone. My energy levels were rapidly deteriorating and I wasn’t convinced I’d make it through a shift at the café today.
A couple of minutes later, the door behind me slid open and I lifted my head to see Scarlett circling the kitchen bench. She busied herself with boiling the kettle and crushing some leaves that looked to be Thyme leaves.
Her home was a tiny, old apartment that had an even tinier balcony off the kitchen, and from what I’d glimpsed, plants filled that area. The small kitchen barely fit both of us and was in dire need of renovation. Tiles were beginning to peel off the wall and the discoloured and worn countertop looked like it was out of the seventies.
As she reached into the cupboard for a mug, she said, “Thyme tea will help your cough, but I think you need a lot of rest because you seem pretty run down.”
“I can’t rest, I have too much to do at the moment.”
“Sometimes your body gives you no choice.” She placed the leaves in the mug and poured hot water over them. Turning to face me, she said, “What’s so important that it means you can’t take some time for you?”
I rested my elbows on the counter and then placed my face in my hands. “I’m working two jobs plus looking out for my sick neighbours.”
She shrugged. “So call in sick.”
“I can’t. One of the jobs is at my Mum’s café and the other job is at one of Storm’s clubs. They need all the help they can get, so I can’t let them down.” As the words fell out of my mouth, I began crying.
Geez.
Wiping at the tears, I apologised, “Sorry about this. I have no idea why I’m crying.” Embarrassment at breaking down in front of a stranger filled me, but the more I tried to hide my tears, the more they came.
Scarlett didn’t move to console me. She simply remained where she stood across the island bench from me, and said, “You must have needed to get them out. Maybe you should talk about it.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“Sometimes it’s good to talk to a complete stranger about shit. I find they don’t have the preconceived thoughts and feelings about you that your friends and family do.”
She’s right.
“Oh, God.” I took a deep breath through my tears and then let my thoughts tumble out of my mouth. “I feel like I’m only just holding everything together at the moment, including myself. And it feels like if one thing gave way, everything else would crumble with it. But I need to keep it together for Scott…” My voice trailed off as I reached for the tissue she was holding out to me.
“What’s this bullshit about holding it together for Scott? He’s your boyfriend, right?”
“Yes.”
“So why does he expect you to hold it all together for him?”
“No, he doesn’t…I’m not explaining this very well…Scott’s got a lot on with his club at the moment and I don’t want to burden him any more than I already have.” Between my sore throat and foggy mind, I was finding it difficult to explain myself.
Scarlett bent at the waist and lent her forearms on the counter. Her voice softened from the hardness it had previously held, and her eyes glossed over with a new softness as she said, “You know, sometimes we tell ourselves that our loved ones expect us to say and do things a certain way or that they expect stuff from us that they really don’t. From the little you’ve told me about Scott, I bet he’s the kind of guy who would prefer you focus on getting yourself better, rather than running yourself ragged trying to do all these things.”
I stared at her for a long moment before baring my soul. “We lost a baby a little while ago and I’ve really let him down. I don’t want to let him down any more,” I whispered.
Her forehead crinkled in a frown. “How do you figure you let him down by losing a baby? It’s not like you chose to lose the baby.”
/> Shaking my head, I rushed to explain. “No, I didn’t let him down by losing the baby, but I shut him out. He gave me all the support I needed and I pushed him away. And on top of that, I wasn’t there for him.” I paused as memories of what Scott and I had been through flooded my mind. I really did let him down. “He lost a baby, too, and I wasn’t there for him.” My voice cracked and a sob escaped.
As more tears fell, she remained silent, and I appreciated her lack of rushing to console me. It was what everyone I knew did whenever tears threatened – they tried to hug me and tell me everything would be okay. I wanted to scream at them that as much as a hug and a few words of encouragement were appreciated, they would never fix the hole in my heart. Sometimes, the only thing you could do was live through the pain – let it take its grip, let it almost kill you, and then when you thought you couldn’t take another step forward, you had to find the courage to do just that. Sometimes, you had to let the pain heal you in the only way it could – by showing you how much strength you had buried deep. Pain could wound like a motherfucker, but it could also teach you what you were made of.
And yet, as much as my pain had taught me, I still struggled to let go of my guilt.
Scarlett finally spoke when my tears began to subside. “When we fuck up in life, we can’t go back and have a do-over. But what we can do is decide never to do that shit again, and then do everything in our power to do it right from then on. And, Harlow? That’s a shitload of guilt you’re carrying around with you, and I bet it’s not only hurting you, but also your relationship with Scott. You need to get the fuck over that guilt, reposition your lady-balls and move the fuck on. Stop wallowing in that because it’s making you be less than what you are.”
Well, shit…
I raised my brows at her. “Do you always give such blunt and honest advice?”
“Yes. What’s the point in giving advice that’s not honest?” Her eyes didn’t leave mine; it was like she was challenging me to argue with her, but I couldn’t fault her logic.
“True.” I knew she was right, but putting her advice into action was a whole other story, especially when I had another thing on my mind. “My period is late,” I finally admitted the one thing I hadn’t told anyone yet; the one thing I wasn’t sure to be happy or concerned about.
