by Tracey Ward
“Too full,” Raw tells him coldly. “Club’s at capacity. Sorry, guys.”
“Really? It doesn’t look that full.”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
“I need to have a conversation with Bear.”
“Bear isn’t here. I’ll tell him you stopped by.”
“You tryin’ to get rid of me?”
He shrugs, like he doesn’t give a shit about any of this. “Why would you want to stay?”
“Maybe I’m enjoying the charm of this backwater shithole you call home.”
Hyde takes a large step forward, closing in on their right. “Open wide, you toothless fuck. I’ll show you charm.”
The man’s eyes darken dangerously. “Watch your mouth when you’re talking to The Black Hawks, boy.”
“Boy?”
“Who are you? Where’s your VP?”
“Right here,” Kill answers quietly. Even low, his voice booms like a bass line through the bar. He thumps heavily into the room until he’s nearly toe to toe with the much shorter, smaller, older man. “If you wanna talk to me, we talk outside.”
The Black Hawk tries to look nonchalant as he nods, turning toward the door. He doesn’t want his actions to look like a retreat, but when you’re staring up at Kill, your body screams at you to run. I don’t care how badass you think you are. Instincts are there to save your life and Kill looks like a big murder machine bearing down on you.
“Run, run, run, little bitch,” Hyde sings quietly behind the men.
“Hyde,” Devo cautions, his voice measured and low.
Hyde rolls his head to the side, stretching his neck. Veins stand out starkly under his skin, throbbing with anger and adrenaline. He looks like a bomb about to go off.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
I follow without thought. Without debate. Skeeze sees me coming out the door behind him. He hesitates just a half a second before shoving the door open for me. It’s all the invitation I need.
As I pass through the doorway, I glance over my shoulder at the bar. Harlow is there, watching me. Her face is tight with worry, her eyes pleading for something I can’t understand. But no matter what she wants, this is something I have to do, so I nod to her stiffly and let the door slam shut between us.
It’s dark out, the neon on the front of the building brighter than the moon and stars combined. It paints the world in retina searing orange and red that runs down the faces of the men gathered on the gravel. Each group forms a sort of arrow with Kill and the old guy at the heads.
“Why are you here, Styx?” Kill asks point blank.
Styx looks up at him, trying to play it off like it’s not that hard to do. “I’ve got this situation back home. We’re having a little trouble with our trade.”
“Why is that my problem?”
“I’m not sure it is yet. But nothing’s changed in Culver. No new sellers are cutting into our territory. No new product is hitting the street without our say so. But somehow our profits are dropping off.”
“Maybe people are getting clean,” Devo suggests.
“All at once? In the span of a couple weeks?”
“I don’t know, man. I don’t know a lot of meth heads. I don’t exactly know how they tick.”
“They like getting high. They love it. That’s why it’s weird that all of the sudden we’re not seeing as much action as we used to. It has us talking to our friends in other clubs, asking if they have any answers for us. If they can maybe think of something new that might have our buyer’s attention.”
“Like what, for instance?”
“Aliens?” Hyde guesses. “Big Foot? No, no, no. I got it. Stranger Things. That show is sick. You don’t have to be high to go on that trip.”
Styx jerks his head toward Hyde, addressing Kill. “Can you shut him the fuck up?”
“Would if I could.”
“We aren’t dealing meth,” Devo tells Styx plainly.
“You sure about that?”
“It’s not our MO. But even if we were and it was somehow fucking up your flow up there in Culver, that wouldn’t be our problem. Opal is our turf. We can do whatever we want down here. If you got a problem with that, you better set up a meeting with Bear instead of showing up unannounced, but I’ll tell you something; he’ll tell you the same thing I am. We don’t give a shit how our business affects yours.”
Styx stares at Devo silently. He doesn’t like that answer. The tension between the two tribes escalates in the stillness between us, rising like waves of heat on asphalt.
For the first time since I started hanging with this crew, I wish I’d brought my gun.
“Like Raw said in the club,” Kill tells Styx patiently. Heavily. “I’ll tell Bear you were here.”
“You do that,” Styx spits angrily. He signals his men with one jerk of his hand. They immediately disband, heading for their bikes like a line of trained soldiers.
The Due hold their huddled formation. They watch stoically as The Black Hawks mount their bikes, taking to the road.
Heading straight into Opal.
“Fuck,” Kill growls. He pulls out his phone, making a call from speed dial.
Devo turns to face the group, frowning when his eyes meet mine. “What the fuck are you doing out here, Strat?”
Skeeze steps up for me. “He had our back the second they walked in the bar. I figured another body wouldn’t hurt.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
“Bear,” Kill says sternly into his phone. “We got a problem. Black Hawks came into the bar looking for trouble. They’re headed your way.”
My stomach knots painfully, like a punch to my gut. I turn to Raw to see my own worry in his eyes.
“Isn’t Ava—”
“She’s at Bear’s, yeah,” he interrupts grimly. “They fuck with him and they’re fucking with my daughter.”
Raw is ready to kill in that moment. He’s such a chill guy, I’ve never seen his rage before, but it’s obvious now. His shoulders are squared, his face rigid, his hands loose and fluid at his sides, ready for a fight. He’s a soldier prepped for war. He’s a weapon ready to be fired.
“Yeah, yeah. Hold on.” Kill hits a button on his phone. The speaker comes alive as he holds it up and out for to hear.
Bear’s voice bursts thin but commanding over the small speakers.
“Close up early,” he says immediately. “Get everyone out of there and put the place on lockdown. No one leaves tonight. None of you, none of the girls. And definitely not Stratford. Do you hear me, kid?”
I step forward so he can hear me better. “Yeah, I hear you, Bear.”
“They know our faces. You’re new and so is this dip in their sales. They’ll put two and two together. If you go home tonight, you’ll lead them straight to our stash and Raw can’t get that shit back from the Black Hawks.”
“I’d be happy to try,” Raw vows.
“I bet you would, but I’d rather you stayed alive. So would Ava.”
Raw’s jaw clenches tightly. “How is she?”
“Fast asleep.” Kill’s hand is buffeted by the wind, Bear’s big voice warbling across the current. “Angela already has her down in the cellar. If these assholes show up, she’ll never know they were here.”
He nods solemnly. “Thanks, Bear.”
“Family first, Raw. You know that. Get some sleep tonight. We’ll expect you at first light.”
“I’ll be there.”
“I’ll ride with him,” Skeeze offers.
“Me too,” Devo agrees.
Kill snorts. “You all are jumpin’ ship and leaving me here to manage a bunch of bitches?”
“Hyde will help hold down the fort,” Devo reminds him. “And you’ve got Strat.”
“He’s not even carrying.”
“Put a gun in my hand and I will be,” I tell him defensively.
Kill narrows his eyes at me. “You can handle a piece?”
“I have one at home. I just don’t roll with it.”
“This is the first time it’s been an issue.”
“Really? It wasn’t an issue a couple weeks ago when you got your face kicked in?”
I feel like hitting him. It comes out of nowhere but the idea is so satisfying I actually have to stop myself from taking a step toward him. From getting myself killed for my pride.
“Strap him,” Bear barks from the phone. “He’s a friend of the club and what went down tonight concerns him. And we could use the extra manpower. Clear?”
“Crystal,” Kill grunts.
“Hold tight. Keep the girls safe. The Black Hawks aren’t going to do anything tonight. They want to scare us. They want us to know that they know we’re up to something, but it’s none of their goddamn business what.”
Devo nods, his eyes on the ground. His hands clenched tightly together. “Yeah, Bear. We got it.”
“Good. I’ll see you boys in the morning.”
He disconnects the call without waiting for a reply.
Kill breaks the ensuing silence with a sharp snap. “You fuckin’ heard him! Get this club cleared and lock it down!”
Chapter Seventeen
Harlow
It’s one in the morning. It’s Friday. And the club is silent.
That’s messed up.
It felt weird ushering out a crowd of paying customers, but Bear’s orders are law. The Black Hawks are swarming around town tonight and we need to lock our shit down to stay safe. Even the trailer feels too vulnerable. Devo and I have taken up inside the club with everyone else, bunking down in the extra bedroom. The one Josh slept in after I took him to the hospital. After he kissed me in the parking lot.
Two months later and I’m still thinking about that kiss. I dream about it, in vivid color with extended scenes. Hot, sweat soaked scenes that always end in the bed of the truck with Josh between my legs and his hands wrapped in my hair. I’ve woken up groping Devo twice. We had sex both times and each time I kept my eyes closed. I carefully kept my fantasies at bay because I won’t betray him like that. Either of them. I won’t imagine Josh while I’m with Devo and I sure as hell won’t use Devo as a substitute for Josh.
But are the fantasies betrayal enough? Am I already cheating on Devo by imagining myself with someone else?
I don’t know if Devo and I can cheat on each other at this point. He sleeps with other women all the time and I don’t give two shits about it. Basically, we have an open relationship. At least, the door is open on his end. He can go out and fuck whoever he wants while barely bothering to hide it, but if I did the same, if I slept with Josh again and he found out, it’d be a nightmare. He’d lose his shit on both of us.
It’s a double standard inside the club life that I never minded before because it didn’t matter to me; I didn’t want to sleep with anyone else. Not really. But ever since Josh came crashing back into my life, it bugs the hell out of me. It’s not fair. It’s not right. It keeps me up at night, tossing and turning. Fuming.
I sit up in bed, feeling frustrated. Devo’s lucky. He can sleep anywhere at any time. He’s passed out cold now, hogging over half the bed with his long arms and legs sprawled in every direction, like a big starfish. I pull the blanket up over him as I leave the bed, heading for the kitchen. I need a drink. Something to take the edge off and send me to sleep. Anything to quiet the unease in my limbs.
I step carefully out of the warm room into the cold hallway, pulling the door silently closed behind me.
“What are you doing up?”
I stifle a scream, covering my mouth and doubling over to keep it inside. I look up to glare at Hyde on guard at the end of the hallway. He’s parked in a folding chair, a long rifle in his lap. His eyes tracking me in the dark.
“You scared me half to death, you dick,” I whisper vehemently.
“Sorry,” he apologizes blandly.
“For fuck’s sake.”
“Can’t sleep?”
I stand up straight, waiting for my heart to stop racing in my chest. “No. I can’t. I need a drink. Now I might need a sedative.”
“You wanna grab me one while you’re up?”
“A drink or drugs?”
“Drink.”
“What do you want?”
“Balls or Red Bull. Something to help me stay awake.”
“You got it,” I mumble, turning my back on him. Wishing I could punch him in the dick.
“Hey, Harley,” he calls quietly after me. “Heads up. Strat’s in the kitchen. He’s keeping an eye on the backlot.”
My heart is instantly racing again, running for reasons new and old.
“Why do I care?” I ask flippantly.
Hyde shrugs. “Figured you wouldn’t want to be surprised again.”
“Right. Thanks.”
I move slowly toward the kitchen, wondering if I can avoid it. I spend each step trying to come up with an excuse to turn around and head back to bed. Back to Devo. But I already promised Hyde I’d get him a drink and it’d look weird if I backtracked on that now.
The kitchen is dark when I get inside. The only light comes from the moon spilling in through the big window at the back. The large, industrial appliances shine faintly, giving the small room a cold glow that dissolves against my feverish hot skin. I feel like I’m sunburned. Like all of the heat in my body is rising to the surface, burning me alive.
I find the source of the inferno in the corner at the table. Josh is parked there with a mug of steaming something and a matte black handgun in front of him. He’s wearing jeans. No shoes. No shirt. A long chain with a small silver key dangles around his neck, against his chest. His body is beautiful; artfully molded in rolling mounds of muscle and soft skin peppered with coarse hair and intricate tattoos. I’m so used to the guys being covered in them, Josh looks almost innocent with only a few. Younger somehow, like an untouched canvas I want to finger-paint on. I want to scrawl my name across his back, over his broad shoulders, claiming him as mine, all mine.
He turns to look at me, his face kept neutral. “You’re awake.”
“I couldn’t sleep. I’m not used to being in the club.”
“You don’t sleep well in unfamiliar places.”
“Every little sound wakes me up.”
“I remember.”
Of course he does.
I nod to the window, taking a few steps inside the room. “Is it quiet out there?”
“Silent as the grave. I don’t think they’re coming back tonight.”
“Are you worried about going home?”
“Not if they’re gone.”
“But what if they’re not?”
He shrugs his shoulders, not worried. “Then I’ll be in for a fight.”
“You say it like it’s nothing.”
“It doesn’t feel like anything because it hasn’t happened yet. It might never happen, so why worry about it?”
“Are you high?” I chuckle despite myself.
Josh grins. “No. Why?”
“You’re very Zen right now.”
“It’s exhaustion, not drugs.” He sits back in his chair, stretching his arms up over his head. I can see the shadowy contours of his stomach, ridged to deeply defined perfection.
I take another step closer. “You should get some sleep. I could take your post.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“You’re not a Due, Josh. You don’t have to do this.”
He scowls, unhappy with my assessment. “They’ve had my back for the last two months. Why wouldn’t I have theirs?”
“Because you pay them to watch out for you.”
He shakes his head, looking away. Out the window. “That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“I’m going to join them.”
I go from burning alive to ice cold in the blink of an eye. I wrap my arms around my body to suppress the shiver that runs through me. “What are you talking about?”
“The Black Hawks probably thi
nk I’m a Prospect.”
“Yeah, so what? They also think they can tell the Due what to do on their own turf. It doesn’t make them right.”
“I want to join, Harlow,” he tells me firmly, leaving no room for debate. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. It makes sense.”
“No, it doesn’t.” I stand in front of him, towering over him. Demanding his attention. “It doesn’t make any damn sense. Why is it every time I turn my back, you’re sinking deeper and deeper into the club?”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘sinking’.”
“You know what I mean. This isn’t your life, Josh. What about MIT?”
“I’m not going.”
“Since when?”
“Since I decided it’s not worth it. I have a scholarship for tuition but not housing. Not food. And I won’t have any income. I’ll need to get a minimum wage, part-time job to try to survive, and, yeah, maybe I can do it, but what about the house? What about Pops? If I’m not dealing, I can’t pay for any of that anymore.”
“I’ll help you. I’ll take care of Pops.”
“It’s not just about Pops and the money. It’s about me. About who I am.” He spreads his hands over the top of his textbook. “I’m a dealer, Harlow. I’m a criminal and I’m good with that. I like dealing way more than I like doing homework. And with the Due, for the first time in my life, I feel like I fit. Like they get me because they’re like me. I don’t wanna lose that.”
“But what if you get to MIT and find out all those computer geeks are like you too. There’s more to you than just dealing.”
“That’s the beauty of geeks,” he smirks. “They’re easier to find on the internet than in real life. I can connect with other hackers online.”
“Hackers?”
“The only thing I like about computer science and programming and all the mundane bullshit that goes with it, is that it’s taught me how to hack. They’re teaching me to build systems and networks, but by learning to build them up I’m also learning to break them down. I know how they work so I know how to crack them. There’s no nine-to-five job where that’s going to be useful. I can’t put ‘I love hacking’ on a resume. Not with anyone but The Devil’s Due.”
