by ML Nystrom
“I know it’s not much,” I started, sounding defensive even to my own ears. “But it’s mine. I started out with nothing, and I can do it again.”
His eyes met mine. I couldn’t read him, but I didn’t look away this time. I met him head-on instead of dropping my eyes as I usually did. He kept staring, deep into me. For a brief moment, I wished he would hold me again. Then he turned and made his way to the door, his boots echoing in the empty space. He fingered the cheap dead bolt and the flimsy chain, and looked back at me, still unreadable.
“There’s nothing in here worth stealing now, if that’s your concern.” I tried to make light of everything, just to see if I could get another smile or at least a glimpse of one. He simply stared longer and harder. I squirmed a bit under his unwavering scrutiny. His voice was silent in my head.
“I’ve been through worse, Mute. I’ll survive. It’s just stuff.”
His eyes were so deep. He tapped the lock, and I heard him loud and clear.
“Lock up behind me.”
“I will. Thank you so much, Mute. I really… um… I… just, thank you,” I stuttered.
He tapped his watch and pointed at my laptop. “When is class tomorrow?”
“I have a class at ten, and need to be at the bar around six. The city bus stop is pretty close by, so I should be able to get there on time. You don’t have to worry about picking me up for work. I have to go to the Lair late tomorrow night after the bar, round eleven, I think. Betsey’s watching Blue’s kids over at his house, so I’ll be working the club bar as well.”
He nodded once, turned, and left. I did what he said and locked up the meager protection the cheap brass bar and links offered. Curled up in my bed, I replayed a few of the events of the evening, touching my mouth with my fingertips, before finally falling asleep.
Mute left Kat’s dismal apartment and waited until he heard her slide the flimsy lock in place. His head and heart were at war, putting him in unfamiliar territory. Not since Maya had he felt anything for a woman other than a need to take one to bed occasionally to scratch an itch. He’d known what Maya was before he gave her his heart and patched her as his. He’d thought they were happy together and it would last a lifetime. He was so in love, her history as a club bunny didn’t bother him, and he was even able to overlook her drug history as well. She loved him right back despite his disability, or so he thought. It was supposed to be the perfect life, and was until that day happened. The day he came to the clubhouse and found Maya, bare-ass naked, wearing only the property cut he gave her with Joker drilling her from behind.
He had stood in the doorway, silently watching them for several minutes, fingering the small box he had in his pocket and wondering if anyone else knew there was no sound when a heart shattered into a thousand pieces. Joker must’ve heard something, as he had looked up as he was pumping away at the moaning and writhing Maya, and noticed Mute in the doorway. Instead of being shocked and horrified, he sneered and rammed into Maya harder, stroking his hand over the Property of Mute patch.
It took four brothers to pull him off Joker. Mute barely remembered landing his fist into that grinning face, only seeing red and feeling an overpowering rage at the betrayal of the man who was supposed to be his brother, and the woman who was supposed to be his mate. He was so far in his head, he had heard Brick’s voice as if coming from a deep well: rules, Joker being forced into nomad status, and Maya being booted out. He didn’t know what had happened to her other than she was completely gone the next day, out of town forever. Mute felt nothing after that. The ring he had carried in his pocket was flung into the river, and along with it the pieces of his dead heart and the vow never to love again.
That was until he came to the bar one night and found Kat.
Mute smoothed a hand over his torso where he still felt the jolt he had experienced earlier tonight. Finding Kat on the roadside shivering in the cold next to her car had done something to him. There had been a pain in his chest that he couldn’t explain and didn’t understand. His emotions had run the gamut of anger at her for being in that situation even if it wasn’t completely her fault, fear for her well-being, and amusement at her actually yelling at him for “yelling” at her. Christ! She’d even made him laugh! His gut churned, and he wished he could meet up with her roommate and the nasty-ass boyfriend just once. He got down to his truck, the snow already accumulating on the windshield. He brushed it off, got in, and sat in the driver seat staring at the dancing white flakes. He licked his lips slowly, remembering her sweet taste and fighting the sudden tightening in his jeans.
Fuck me. I shouldn’t have kissed her. I don’t need another Donna type to deal with.
He knew he was fooling himself. Kat would never be a Donna type. Donna had finally figured out Mute’s indifference and had moved on, putting Hammer in her sights. Kat wouldn’t have gone after him in the first place, not being the kind to use her body to get what she wanted.
Too soft. Lets everyone walk all over her. Including me.
Mute sat for a moment more and made his decision. Like it or not, Kat was a part of the club. She’d earned her place with her work at the bar, at the Lair, and with the help she gave Betsey and the other members. He would take care of her as he would anyone else in the club. It was his job to protect the club, and since she was a part of it, he would be her protector too, but that was all. Anything else was too much to ask of him—or her.
Problem is, can I protect her from myself, and protect myself from her?
Chapter 9
I came out of my physiology class and found Mute leaning on the wall directly across from the lecture hall. He looked every bit the badass biker, dressed in faded jeans, black boots, and a heavy black leather jacket. He wore his cut over the jacket so everyone could see the patches declaring him to be that badass. His arms were crossed, his face hard and intimidating to anyone looking at him. The silver chain around his neck winked in the fluorescent lights.
“OMG, Katwoman! Is that your boyfriend?” Jessica breathed at me. “He’s the one that brought you to the hospital! OMG, he is sooo big!”
I cringed a little at the Katwoman nickname she’d given me the night I showed up at the hospital wearing that costume.
“Not a boyfriend. Coworker, more or less, and he’s helping me out since my car died,” I said, trying to sound flippant. He had shown up at my place this morning in his truck and driven me to class. He had been back to his surly disagreeable self. The considerate man who held me, laughed out loud, and kissed me so thoroughly was gone. This was not completely unexpected, but still, he did show up unasked to help me. I wasn’t really sure what to expect from him at this point, but I thought something had changed between us. “Everything okay, Mute?”
He got off the wall and jerked his head to the outside doors.
Jessica gasped and oohed. I thought she was going to melt into a little puddle or try to climb him like a tree.
We reached his truck, and he opened the passenger door for me to get in. I climbed up, a little bewildered, but I wasn’t going to turn down a ride. He got in, closed his door, and turned to me and laid a white box in my lap.
My eyes widened. “Is this for me?”
He scowled and gestured for me to open the box. It was a top-of-the-line smartphone, charged up and ready to go. The number was written on a piece of paper just inside the box.
I gulped. “I… I… I… It’s too much, Mute! I don’t have money to pay you back.”
Mute sighed, pulled out his own phone, and started texting. A moment later, the new phone in my hands beeped.
Mute: Not a big deal. I get two extra lines on my plan. Mackie has one and you got the other.
We were really talking now. Not just words I made up in my head. I was right. Something big had changed between us.
He kept texting.
Mute: Getting your shit together and moving today
“What?”
Mute: I didnt stutter.
He grinned.
>
I rolled my eyes and watched as his broad fingers flew over the tiny keyboard.
Mute: Your place is shit and too much mony. You cant afford it. Bad locks. Not safe. Moving in with Mackie. He could use the help round the house.
I was stunned to silence. Who was this man? He kept typing.
Mute: Mackies the big gray house half mile from the bar. Upstairs is for rent. His place is the bottom floor. He gets money from the goverment because of his missing arm but what he needs is someone to help him out around the house. He don’t get around to good. The Parkinsons dizeaze is getting worse. Rent is cooking some, cleaning up, getting groceries, givng him his pills, that sort of thing.
I relaxed a little. This was the protector side of Mute coming out for Mackie. This had nothing to do with me.
Mute: Mackies got an old Dodge Intrepid. Ugly ass beige thing but it runs good. Your car is dead. Only worth a few parts that might still work. You use Mackies car for a while. He cant drive no more. Parkinson’s is getting to bad.
I was overwhelmed. Good luck like this rarely happened to me, but since I’d hooked up with this club, life had gotten better. “I don’t know what to say. It’s too much.”
Mute: You just keep doing what you doing. Your a part of the club. I protect the club. I protect you. Payback is you take care of Betsey and Mackie.
“Okay. I can do that,” I said to him, grinning from ear to ear. Life suddenly looked a little brighter. Perhaps my run of bad luck was over.
Mute: As far as the other, dont make a big deal of it. It happened. Its over. Wont happen again.
Life got a little dimmer. “Um… I guess you mean when you kissed me?”
He all but growled at me and nodded. Yes, that was what he meant. Maybe nothing changed between us after all.
Mute: I said dont make a big deal out of it. This is just me helping you to help Mackie and the club. Nothing more. It wont hapen again.
“I understand,” I told him in a small voice. Inside, my heart broke just a little bit. For a brief moment last night, I’d felt special. Like I mattered. Me. But what really mattered was what I could do for the club. I guess it could be worse. Mute was rough, but he did care about Mackie and the club enough to include me. I could feel good being under that umbrella, as long as I did what he said. No one owed me a life, so it was up to me to make the best of whatever joy I was given.
He drove to my apartment and watched while I gathered and packed the few things that were mine. He made me leave the ratty couch and mattress, saying Mackie had nicer stuff for me to use. His exact words were “Goodwill don’t even want your shit.”
He drove me to Mackie’s house. I was a little surprised to see how big it was. It was set about five hundred yards back from the road at the end of a long driveway on about an acre of neatly trimmed land. It was an older two-story farmhouse that looked like it had been modified and had some nice add-ons. The gray siding looked recently installed; there was a large front porch and a side deck with a large grill hooked up. There were several outbuildings, including a nicely built garage and workshop, a small greenhouse, a storage shed with a large woodpile stacked at its side, and a mother-in-law cottage way in the back. The massive yard was full of green grass, and the property was surrounded by trees. You could see the main road, but the house would be difficult to spot unless you were looking for it.
Mackie was on the porch and apparently expecting me.
“Welcome home, darling!” he greeted me with his usual enthusiasm. “Ya get the top bunk, I’m taking the bottom. Everything should be ready for ya.”
Mute grabbed the two boxes that held my stuff and tromped up the steep, narrow stairs. The wood creaked with every step. There were four big bedrooms up there, two on each side, and a large bathroom at the top of the steps. Two of the rooms were obviously storage, and the other two were furnished as a bedroom and connected sitting room. I entered the sitting room first, as it was the first one on the right. It held a simple futon sofa covered in plain brown, with a Native American print rug in greens, blues, and reds on the wood floor. There was a flat-screen TV set up in one corner, along with a Blu-ray player and some empty shelves. An old-fashioned roll top desk sat in one corner, the top up revealing lots of little cubby holes. A new power strip sat on the top, obviously put there for my laptop.
I followed Mute through the connecting door to the bedroom.
It was beautiful. The bedroom was painted a light slate gray with white trim. The hardwood floors were covered with several thick, shaggy white rugs. The bed was an old-fashioned brass frame with several fluffy pillows, the colorful comforter in stripes of different blues, white, and gray. There was an antique dresser of darker wood, a matching nightstand, and a vanity table. The two rooms were bigger than my apartment. I didn’t need to see the bathroom to know it was fabulous as well.
“I can’t believe all of this is for me.” Tears filled my eyes at the older man’s generosity.
Mackie harrumphed from the bottom of the steps.
“I didn’t do nothin’. That was Mute going to the Walmart, hauling and settin’ up your stuff. I cain’t get up them steps no more. The whole second floor is yours.”
I turned to Mute in surprise and a little confusion. He had been so adamant about the kiss we shared meaning nothing to him. Maybe just an impulse at the time, since he’d been laughing in that strange grunting noise.
If he kissed me because of the timing, then why do all this for me?
Mute was not happy with Mackie’s announcement, and it showed. His face was dark and he looked at me with his angry Hulk look. I could hear his voice in my head warning me.
“Don’t start nothing!”
I knew then he was doing this mainly for Mackie’s benefit. Mackie would have been the one to go to Walmart and set up these rooms for me had he been able to do so, but his disease was progressing rapidly, and getting around was harder and harder for him. Even though this was not really about me, I still got to reap some wonderful rewards.
I ignored the silent hostile voice and moved in, putting my arms around Mute’s body. “I understand, Mute, but thank you for all of this. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”
His jaw clenched and unclenched like he was grinding his teeth. He gave a sharp nod and pushed past me to tromp down the steps, his heavy tread echoing throughout the house. The screen door slapped against the frame. A moment later, I heard the growl of his truck as he took off.
A text message beeped on my phone.
Mute: No payback for gifts. Just do your job and take care of Mackie.
“Rude-ass bastard!” Mackie commented. “Whelp, his loss is my gain! You got KP duty tonight, darlin’. What’s fer supper?”
I laughed and went downstairs into the modern kitchen to scrounge up something to feed my friend and new roomie.
Chapter 10
A loud thwack sounded outside, and I looked through the kitchen window above the sink. Mute was chopping wood, his bare back to me and steam rising from his body in the cold winter air. His hair was gathered back in a short ponytail at the base of his neck, and I could clearly see his club tattoo. A colorful green, gold, and black dragon, wings spanning his broad shoulders, long talons tipped in red, and breathing fire. It was a beautiful work of art, one of several. He had other colorful tattoos on his chest and arms.
All three of us were living together, so to speak, and had settled into a routine. Mute was renting the one-bedroom mother-in-law cottage toward the back of the property. His rent was keeping the yard and landscaping up, house repairs as needed, and keeping the wood stacked up for the fireplace and woodstove. Mackie spent his days puttering around his greenhouse, or watching TV in his big reclining chair. I went to classes, worked at the bar, cleaned for Mackie, and cooked for all three of us. It became routine for Mute to walk in the house about the time I set dinner on the table. The first night, when I put a whole roasted chicken, fresh green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy, and homemade biscuits on the ta
ble, Mackie was beside himself and texted Mute, insisting that he come join us. Both men had gorged themselves silly, and Mackie had been in rare form.
“Oh, darlin’, I think I just died and gone to heaven! Them biscuits is the best I ever ate! You should be on one of them fancy cooking shows, you know, like them ones that has prize money at the end. Whadya think, Mute? Ain’t she somethin’?”
Mute just looked at him with one eyebrow cocked and picked up another biscuit. I think he consumed about half the chicken by himself, along with a generous amount of the beans and potatoes. I had hoped to get a few days’ worth of leftovers, but I kissed that thought goodbye when I saw Mute take seconds and then thirds. It was nice seeing both men enjoy their food.
Mackie continued to rave about my cooking, until I got red in the face from embarrassment.
“Who taught you how to cook so good? Your mama?”
I stiffened a bit, but answered with a smile. I felt comfortable in this place with Mackie, and thought it was a safe place for me. Not sure why I did it, but I decided to open up a bit about my life.
“No. I don’t know who my real parents are. Never met them. I was left as a baby at the hospital. I bounced around lots of homes for a while, but when I started school, I had one foster home I got to stay in for about six years. That was with Millie. She was more like a grandmother than a mom, but she taught me a lot about cooking, housekeeping, and just taking care of people. She was a retired nurse and a wonderful, giving person. I was twelve when the social workers decided she was too old to take care of me anymore and moved me somewhere else. I heard she passed away before I graduated high school. I think she’s the reason I decided to go into nursing. She was the best home I’ve ever had.”
