by Amy Kiss
His eyebrows came close. "Oh yeah, you know about death huh? You a doctor or something?"
The guy was not dumb. I wasn't going to tell him that I was an orphan. That the only person who'd look for me was probably passed out. I sank deeper into the lie. "Yeah."
"Well, let's take a look huh?" He dug into my purse, next to the chair with his stuff. My heart pounded in my chest, but with more purpose than fear. I realized I could just run up and knock him out right now. If I was 100 pounds heavier, not hung over and had my hands untied.
"Oh yeah, there we go." He held up my school ID. "Katie Phillips. That's a pretty name. They seem to have your job down wrong, honey. They think you fix dogs."
I flapped my mouth aimlessly. I was out of wit. The bright yellow bulb was killing my eyes. I could feel the panic taking over the vacuum my mind had left.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"Oh, are we done with the part where you're being brave?" My purse flopped limp on the floorboards. "Damn, I like my girls feisty."
He pulled up the chair and sat down before me. I peered up as defiantly as I could, but the panic grew as his sour breath sank onto me.
"We're going to have a little talk. See what you saw."
"Nothing."
"You know you talk too much to suddenly act dumb."
He stroked my cheek. His hands felt like alligator skin.
"Then we figure out what's a fair exchange. We see how much you owe us."
"Money?"
He licked his cracked lips. "I accept all sorts of payment."
Rape. Rape was going to buy my silence? Or was it just going to come before a more permanent silence?
His hand cupped my face, and his eyes fell unashamed to my chest. I had always taken comfort in my ample body. Even when I had lingered, depressed at home it held its shape. But now it was fuel for even more sadness.
"Actually," he said, without lifting his eyes. "Maybe you should show me exactly what you have to offer."
"I have money in my purse."
"Oh we'll get to that." His hand cupped my breast. I closed my eyes.
Focus on the headache. Focus on the pain. Don't cry.
My heart pounded in my skull. Twist's other hand found me and I focused even harder.
The door burst open.
"The fuck you doing?"
That thundering voice. I opened my eyes. The man who had killed filled the door, his dark jacket flapping over a bare, rippling chest. His eyes shone past Twist straight to his hands on my body.
"Just having a little discussion."
"Then use your mouth."
Twist stood, and the absence of that awful heat on my body had me shivering. "Fuck's your problem? You wanted me to clean up. I'm cleaning up, so leave me."
The killer moved into the room and the light seemed to dim, as if his body had been keeping it from leaving. He stood not much higher than Twist, but everything else marked him as something else. His hair was buzzed short. His body could pack in twice of Twist’s. His face glowed and showed history, but it wasn't the leather hide that Twist and his cleanup buddy had. The man standing before me had a rough life, but he was a different animal than Twist. What did they call him again?
"Ghost, just get out of here." Twist backed up almost on top of me.
Ghost. I remembered his eyes glowing against the darkness.
"Thanks for the help," Ghost said. "I'll take it from here."
"Like hell you will."
Twist's arm swung up like a piston, but where there had once been Ghost's face, there was simply air. No, that wasn't right. I had seen him step back, but it seemed so calm, so careless. It was like he had just drifted.
Twist stumbled forward and Ghost grabbed his arm. "Thanks for cleaning. We're even now," he said. Twist smacked the wall as Ghost spun him around. He was sent stumbling out the door.
Ghost shut it and looked down on me. His eyes were a rich ocean blue, but they were just that. No glow to them now. No cold, no warmth.
"Are you alright?" His voice was soft but rang within the wooden walls.
"Yes, thank you." I shouldn’t be. Twist was a rat, but this guy was a murderer. He was a biker just the same and his jacket spelled it out in flame decals. His eyes though, regarded me blankly without any other motive. I felt at peace just looking in there.
He helped me up. My head came up barely to his shoulder. My blood drained from one part of me to another and I swayed. I nearly put my head down on that vast chest. Then, I remembered I'd seen those muscles help bury a knife in a man's throat an hour ago.
"Tell me what you know," he said.
I started telling him the same spiel I'd given that slimy brother of his, about how I didn't care about the dead guy. I was tired of games, and I was starting to believe my words even.
Ghost listened until I ran out of words to say I wouldn't tell anyone what I saw.
"And what did you see?"
Up close, those eyes were luminous. No, I had actually seen them change just now, lit up by something inside. Not with that other world glow I'd seen before he killed, but something unnatural. It seemed like he could see through any lies.
"Everything." I hung my head. "I saw everything."
He was silent for a beat then nodded. "Did you record anything?"
My eyes dashed to my purse. Ghost pulled out my phone and we listened to Twist's tiny voice as he talked about cleaning up dead bodies. A dark exhaustion threatened to take me off my feet. All the strength I’d held spilled out, without anything to focus on. My whole body seemed to pound with pain, the hangover blooming. I didn't even care what happened anymore.
Ghost played the recording a second time.
"Nothing on the murder?"
"No."
He tapped the screens a few more times, then handed me the phone and my purse. The video was gone.
"That should be all," he said. "You ready?"
How could anyone be ready for this? Then again, if no one was ready, then I was about as ready as anyone. "Yeah, whatever," I said.
Ghost opened the door and waited as if he were ushering me out of a house party.
Maybe he'd offer me some food now, or a drink. A little treat while he conferred with the rest of his brothers. His jacket had a little patch that said "Vice-President." So he wasn't in charge. Just muscle. Which meant my fate was in someone else hands.
They would make lock me back up here. If they were truly generous, they would let me develop Stockholm syndrome on my own rather than let a guy like Twist force himself on me. Maybe it was already happening. I just wanted Ghost to tell me what to do. With my head pounding, I could barely remember the sight of him killing. I hadn't seen it, not really. All I could remember was the way his muscles had moved and the purpose in his body. The same things I’d seen when he saved me from Twist. Quite a different thing from the naked ugliness of the other bikers I'd seen so far.
The sounds of the dirty bar outside hit me. My daydreams broke. I frowned at him. "Where do you want me to go?"
"Where do you want to go, Katie?"
I rolled my eyes. "Home."
"Ok. Let's go."
I waited for the punchline, but he stood like a statue. I tiptoed out as if my footsteps might remind him of how crazy his suggestion was. Ghost shut the door then landed a hand on my shoulder. For a horrid moment I was kicking myself for believing his lie. But he simply led me to a bike.
It was parked a bit apart from the line of Harleys along the road. Unlike their pitch black, his was painted tan, parts of it almost vanishing into the sand. I didn't even feel any tension looking at it. Maybe cause it was different from the ones I'd rode with Dad, maybe cause I could barely see it. Maybe cause I'd learned these kinds of bikes weren't half as dangerous as the men who rode them.
Ghost half lifted me on the bike before sliding on himself.
"You ridden before?" His voice rumbled back at me. "I mean, other than tonight. I guess they brought you here."
He
seemed to have gotten tongue tied. I was making this killer nervous? I almost wanted to laugh, but it seemed like we were doing a secret thing here.
"Yeah, I've ridden before."
I laced my arm around his thick waist, just barely able to squeeze a grip around his thick jacket. I studied the vast slab of muscle before me and with nothing left to do, let my face fall against it. His heart pounded in my ear. His heat was like a warm pool to sink into after a long and terrible night.
"Yo, Ghost!'
A man was striding out from the front of the bar. He didn't look very big or tall, and was a bit darker than Ghost. But the pace of his walk and the thin frown told me this was more than just another biker. He had an entourage in tow.
"Where you taking her?" he demanded.
"Home," Ghost's voice rumbled into my ears. " She doesn't know shit."
Whatever his boss said next drowned in the roar of the engines. We kicked off and then we were roaring down the highway. The biker bar faded in to the inky black of the desert.
My only memories of the trip home were from my nose. The sand bitten emptiness as we fled through the desert. Then the metal and diesel sting as must have gone through the industrial circle. Finally the loamy richness as we hit the manicured lawns where I lived. The thrum of the engine rattled my mind into oblivion, and when it cut off, I startled out of my trance. Ghost steadied me, and lifted me out onto my feet.
"You're ok," he said.
I took in my bearings, the half -open curtains of my little townhouse. The past came back like a nightmare and I shivered under everything that had nearly happened. What could still happen, I realized. What had made me give him my real address?
Ghost just held me by the shoulders until I could look up at him. His face glowed under the moon, the hard edges of it a fuzz as if not sure where the air ended and he began. This must have been how that mouse of a man must have seen him, but I felt no fear.
"Thank you," I said, and sank my arms around him once more. From the front this time.
"Yeah." He let me go and I wobbled to the door. A few lights around me were on, and I wondered how loud and strange Ghost's Harley must sound at this time. By the time I got inside, he was already perched astride. I nodded to him. He simply stared back, as if my eyes were just as strange to him. His engine thrummed to life, softer it seemed than it should be.
Maybe because I'm here now, my brain thought in its exhausted delirium. He weaved the bike around the street and fled off from where he had come.
I walked into the dining room, looked at my parents’ picture. I wondered what they would say if they saw the guy that had just dropped their daughter off.
Maybe it was good they hadn't been around to see this.
I laughed at myself for the first time in a long long while.
I woke gently, the rays of sun creeping up on my eyes. I had been dreaming of her again. I had such a clear vision of Katie’s face, her hazel eyes alight in that pale moon face. Not fearsome like mine. But not afraid either. All she had done through the dream was look at me. That was enough to feel renewed
A sweet dream, but now all that was left was my dick standing salute. That was a good sight to see. Left me feeling that I wasn’t completely losing my mind over some girl I’d barely talked to. She looked good. That was the sum of it.
Still, it had been three days and I was still dreaming of her. It was also three days since the last time I'd shot upright in the wee hours of the morning, panting and heaving from something closer to a bad memory than a nightmare. The two had to be related.
We had a couple hours before today’s op. I ran my daily five mile through the desert. The sun had been up for awhile and my feet started to grill after a mile or two. The pain just made me run faster, kick up the wind to cool myself down. I wheeled around the lone tree that marked my halfway point and sprinted back to the bar. No spike needed.
A flash shower later, I sat down at a booth in the bar. People were keeping their distance after that night, maybe cause they'd heard about Shiny. Maybe something about the girl. Maybe they'd heard Nico lay into me when I got back from dropping her off. Something was different, and they'd barely started to understand me even before.
I only cared about the guys around the long table. If the rest of the club wanted to keep their distance that was more than ok. Nico’s old woman, Denise dropped a heaping plate of protein and carbs before me. The steam of grease and meat revved my appetite. I dug in, and to my surprise, Denise sat down. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders and she tied it back before leaning in.
"How you doing, honey?"
Denise was the only one who got to call me that. "Fine," I said between chews.
She reached out and touched my forehead. Only one who got to do that too. "What?" I asked.
"Just wondering if you're in heat."
'What am I? A wolf."
"Wasn't that your unit's name?"
Not my last unit, but I had never talked about that one. "One of them."
She smiled, looking much older than the band t-shirt and denim outfit she was in. "I was just wondering why our best man would go nuts over a girl."
"It was just the right thing to do." I shrugged. "How much did Nico tell you?"
"Oh you know I don't like to touch the details of what you men are up to. I just saw you threw him in a right awful tiff. Never seen him so worked up."
"Twist was treating her bad, and she didn't choose to come out here," I said. "That's all. Nico would have made the same call."
She patted my elbow. "Well just make sure you tell him first then. I just hate when something comes between any of us. We're family you know."
She slapped it a bit harder then picked up and left.
Family. Structure. The things I'd needed after I'd been booted out of Ops. I’d returned to Gilsner and only truly found a home again once I joined the Wraiths.
Nothing like a veiled threat of violence to remind you of home. Some of the boys in my unit spoke of families who tolerated every transgression with patience and understanding. Didn't sound like any family I'd ever known.
So the girl had an effect on me. Just had to let Nico know next time. I was his VP and his best...everything. Shouldn’t be a thing to grant me a little boon now and then.
If only I could understand why I needed this one. Her look, her brown-eyed gaze. Like the bark of an ancient tree who'd seen decades pass and had withstood everything. Even threatened with rape or with death, she had shown no fear. Just weariness at the world. I Knew that feeling.
I scarfed down the greasy mess of calories, then went round to the club room. Nico was chatting with Dyno and some of the others, but threw me a nod as I came in. I’d gotten chewed out plenty the next morning, but Nico knew how to forgive too. Another good trait in a leader.
"You ready, big man?" one of the newer Lieutenants said. Crispy, they called him, cause Leathery didn't roll off the tongue so easy. He grinned but looked away when I took too long to answer. It was a rite of passage for the new officers to hold my eyes without flinching.
"This ain't a thing," I told him, as I sat down next to Nico. And it wasn't. Running security for a day operation in sprawlsville, US of A. Captain Lee would have lobbed one of those vicious spits of his if he heard of my training being wasted on junk like this. Not that he was alive to hear.
Nico ran through the business part of the deal. He had a thoroughness to him that made me feel at ease, reminded me of mission briefs. He was making a few tactical errors, but it didn't matter much in this case.
The guy we were making contact with worked out of a run down motel just inside the town line. Took a few kilos from the Sand Scorpions. Now they were out and we were holding. The motel was wide open, with some foot traffic and narrow roads around to make a drive by unwise. And the Scorpions had no reason to go after us.
Let Nico talk. I'd set him straight later when no one was around. Nico listened too good advice. I guess he counted himself a little lucky that
I was suggesting and not ordering. We both knew I could take over the club if I wanted to. But I didn't.
"Ghost, you know your spot?" he asked.
"Relax, man. We'll be back with the money inside of an hour."
Nico stared me down. I guess he had to. I shrugged and told him which building I'd position on, and he finally turned to others. I lazed in my seat waiting.
Naturally, my mind drifted to Katie.
The room stirred up and I returned. We were on the move. Outside, we had a nice football huddle before moving out. Less poetry, more profanity, plenty of that same shoulder thumping. Even I cracked a smile under my shades. Do this and we bring wealth to our brotherhood. We grow stronger. We prove our worth.
After the mess of loyalties I'd had to tiptoe through at the end of my service, it all felt refreshingly simple.
Five of us rolled out. Canyon, Crispy, me, a young blood who called himself Uncut, with no irony. And Twist. He growled at me under his shades as we passed. He had my back probably, but it would take more than three days to stand down such a gross offense to his manhood.
It was the one vice I'd never understood. What fun was there in a woman who fought you as you took her? We did plenty of shit that was beyond gray, but that one line I could not abide crossing. Easy enough to find a drunk or stoned out chick willing to fuck around here.
We rumbled out in a short line across the desert. The ground sat mute under my thick shades. It wasn’t all that bright out here, but there was always a chance I’d have to spike. The chems would let me see a fly crawl in slow motion 50 yards out. They did that by making my eyes a magnet for light. In broad daylight I’d go blind in an instant without the shades. It was an operational weakness that would have me worried if this job had any risk profile.
We turned a hill and the city loomed before us. Going to town always felt like entering a cage. Surrender your weapons, keep your baggage. Thanks for your service, Soldier, but we don't have space for your personal shit. I had grown up right on the edge of the city, and I was in no mood to go deeper in than I needed.
Then again, seeing Katie was starting to verge on need. To see what those eyes would do if they saw me again.
