by Hazel Parker
“Nothing’s going on. I just… I don’t know. You made it pretty clear when you left here that you didn’t want to have anything to do with us and this life. I thought that I was, you know, respecting that by ignoring you and letting you have space.”
That was true and everyone knew it. I ran away, but I wasn’t hard to find, and the one time Paulie did try to drag me back I made it very clear that if he tried it again I would kill myself.
“So how long are you on bed rest?” I asked, changing the subject. He was doing so well, I didn’t need to think of the one unforgiveable thing he did – cheating on my mother and banishing her when her wrongs had only been a speck compared to the shit he did to her. It was more than a sore topic for both of us.
“For however long I want to be,” he said, crossing his arms.
I laughed out loud before catching myself and tamped it down to a chuckle. “That’s not the way health works, dad. What did the doctor tell you?”
“He told me I should rest for at least three weeks.”
“When did he say that?”
“Two days ago.”
“Then get comfortable, because you’re not going to be up and about for some time.” He opened his mouth to protest and I continued. “I will check in on you in a few days. I need to go home, get some changes of clothes and work, but I’ll be back. Okay?”
I could tell I caught him off guard. Twice in one week compared to never in sixteen years.
“Okay,” he said, dazed. I could see he wasn’t as strong as he was pretending to be.
“You look tired, dad. You should go to sleep,” I said, standing.
“I will later.”
You win some, you lose some, and I wasn’t going to argue when I knew his body would shut down when it wanted.
“Fine. I’m sure Paulie will look after you.”
“No. He will look after the MC. He’s the enforcer now. I can look after myself.”
Well that explained Paulie’s new level of muscles and bulk.
“All right. Get better soon, Casper. Bye,” I said, patting his hand.
“See you soon, Molly Pop.”
The name caused me to flinch. No one called me that in so long and hearing it again was too much like before.
“It’s just Molly,” I said, walking out the door before he could add anything else.
Paulie followed me out the door and waited as I threw my small clutch into the car and pulled myself in.
“You look really good, Mols.”
“Thanks. So do you,” I admitted.
“So. Now that you’re back, I was thinking we could hang out sometime. Maybe catch a night cap,” he said, holding the car door open and out of my reach.
I watched him in horror. I was not back. I was home, sure – for the moment. But I was in no ways interested in catching up.
“No. I have to get back.”
“I know that, but the next time you’re here?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think that’s best.”
“But—”
“But nothing. I’m not back, Paulie. You told me I needed to see my dad and I did. I have a job, friends, and a life away from here. I’m not coming back. This was a cordial checkup. Nothing more.”
“So you just, what – check in and then leave? Like it never happened? Like you can just leave all this,” he said. “Leave us behind?”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “I did it before,” I said, pulling the door from his hand and starting the car. “I can do it again.”
Chapter 5
Ethan
Some people found the sounds of the ocean or birds calling relaxing. Not me. I was simpler than that. The ticking of a wrench was as relaxing as it got for me. The sounds of something being fixed soothed me. I didn’t need a church when I had the garage. The garage was my temple and my altar of choice. It was my sanity as much as any other place, which was why I didn’t take kindly to anybody bringing mess into my church.
“Hey,” Luke said, leaning against the wall, his brown eyes staring a little too intently at me as I worked. His stance was relaxed, but his hands fidgeted in front of him.
“Just say it,” I said, glancing at him without stopping my work.
“Say what?”
I shook my head. “Whatever it is you came in here to say.”
His eyebrows jumped before he schooled his face again. “How do you know I have anything to say? Maybe I just came in here to check on you.”
“And maybe I’m going to play dumb and let you just stand there,” I said, standing from my crouched position. A dirty hand rag lay across the bike’s handle bars and I snatched it away to wipe my hands. “You’re fidgeting, man,” I said, balling the rag up and throwing it on the ground. “You do that when you’re nervous. You got something to say? Just say it. I ain’t got all day,” I said, crossing my arms across my chest. “You know how I feel about beating around the bush. Say what you came to say.”
Anyone who knew me knew I didn’t like lies. I always said better out than in. Lies were weeds that killed everything.
“Well, I was just wondering when’s the last time you’d been to a meeting?”
“You were wondering or the crew was wondering?”
“Just me. I haven’t seen you slip or act shaky in a while, but I would be a shitty sponsor if I didn’t check up on you every once in a while. I know you hate me asking for no reason but feel like I should. So this is me checking in.”
His thumbs circled each other in his lap. He wasn’t done.
“And?”
“And there’s a meeting later today in Flagstaff. I think you should go.”
“What time?”
“At seven.”
His fingers stilled and he slid them into his pocket.
I hadn’t had any cravings in a while. Granted, I only had them when I was stressed and I knew Luke meant well.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he asked. “You’re saying you’ll go?”
“I said okay, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, man. Okay. Cool. I’ll text you the address,” he said, smiling, taking away at least ten years from his face.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah. Gus said to come inside. We’re having a quick meeting.”
“All right,” I said, picking up tools and throwing them in the box. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
I washed my hands and entered just as Evan came from the office.
“Hey, bro.”
“Sup,” I said, sliding into an open seat.
“You planning to visit mom soon?”
That question put a scowl on my face, and right after I came from my holy place.
“Why?”
“Because you should go see her. Because she’s our mom,” he said, scowling back at me with my identical face. “And because she’s been having good days recently. She’s been asking about you, man.” He stared me down with disappointment, looking too much like our dad.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’ll see what you can do? She’s our mom. You better ride your ass out there sometime this week.”
“Or what, Ev? You’re going to find me and make me? Watch yourself, little brother—”
“Now that everyone’s here,” Gus said, immediately quelling any side conversations, “we can get started. We need to discuss the matter of prospects.”
We had three. Ace, Dead Shot, and Phil. Ace had been with us the longest, a little over a year, and was one of those guys that would never fit in. He was too clean-cut and looked like he belonged in a suit, even when he wasn’t wearing one. He looked every bit the criminal defense lawyer he was, but he was loyal, didn’t mind blurring legal lines, and was our ace in the hole should anything ever go wrong.
“We need to take a vote. I want to bring in at least two of them. After all this shit with the Skulls, we’re bound to take a few more hits. We need numbers no
w more than ever.”
Dead Shot was a retired Navy Seal and something of a trained assassin. He could shoot any gun, thus the name, and wasn’t big on rules. He was big on loyalty and that was a big deal around MCs. Only thing was his military background made him look and move a lot like Harrison, who had died almost a year ago now. Taking him in poked a lot of our sore spots, though several of us wouldn’t admit it.
“I think Ace is ready. He’s retired and he’s got his bike, though he still needs to practice riding it,” he said, laughing along with some of the guys.
Ace was skinny and, in his attempt to show us he was ready, he bought one of the biggest and loudest Harley’s ever. Needless to say, whenever he tried to ride, it was pretty entertaining.
“I’m stuck between Phil and Dead Shot,” he said, rubbing his beard.
Phil was our most recent prospect, and in my opinion, a little shifty. He wasn’t getting it without a unanimous vote and I had a feeling I wasn’t the only one who would say nay. Maybe it was his beady, little eyes or the way he had a tendency to be sneaking around corners and pretending not to eavesdrop. I couldn’t prove anything, of course, but something in my gut didn’t trust him. Plus, he was consistently under the required mileage. We’re bikers – we ride and our prospects were expected to put in time riding too.
“Nobody wants to say it, but Dead Shot rubs a bit of salt in our wounds while Phil needs a little more time. Do we need to take a vote?”
“Nope.”
“Nah.”
“You got it.”
“Then it’s settled. Ace and Dead Shot will be welcomed into the club,” he said nodding, “I’ll go get the prospects their new leather and by the end of next week, they’ll be our new brothers.”
The meeting ended and I went to the room I frequented in the club. Most of us had houses or apartments but the few who worked closely in the club like Evan and I, had rooms on the second floor. I hung my jacket in the small closet before stripping as I made my way to the shower. I was going to a meeting; it was best to remain anonymous. Once clean of the grease from the garage and the dirt from the day, I dressed as nondescript as possible. All black, with no tattoos showing and combed hair. Arizona was cool at night and riding on a bike made its air seem even cooler. With a plain, leather jacket on and my boots, I started my bike, prepared for the hour drive. At night, the drive wasn’t as long as it could be. There wasn’t any traffic, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
The shadows on each side of unlit houses and trees passed by in a blur. It was monotonous, and not distracting enough to halt my pondering. Evan wanted me to visit mom. I hadn’t visited her in a while. Did that make me a bad son? Possibly. I wasn’t afraid to go. I just didn’t want to taint the good memories I had. I wasn’t afraid; I was selfish. My mother was a gem. She was my dad’s old lady and a proper MC wife. She was the prototype and the original. When my dad was president, she did everything from hosting parties to showing patch whores that my dad was not available.
Patch whores were women who got off sleeping their way to the top and crossing off patches as they went. From prospects all the way to president, if they could manage it. My mom was never like that. She was classy, but fiery. She was very protective and would do anything if it meant her family was safe. I do mean anything. She was bigger than life and the one person I thought would never change. So no, I wasn’t in a rush to see her as anything but herself.
The last time I saw her, she wasn’t herself. She was dazed, with a look of confusion. She couldn’t remember who I was. I didn’t want to live in a world where my mom couldn’t recognize her own kids, but since I had to, I tried hard to not remind myself that that was my reality.
I was so lost in my thoughts I almost didn’t notice the extra wobbling of my bike. Almost. I pulled off the road under a street light and dismounted. All bikes had a minimum vibration, but excessive vibration was a sign that several things could be wrong. I hadn’t worked on my bike in some time, but the last time it had an issue, the chain had popped. I walked around the bike looking for any obvious problems. When I didn’t see any, I slid my key in the middle to see if I was leaking any oils. Just the right amount of oil and gas. I didn’t have any tools with me so anything in depth would require me getting a tow.
I stood, thinking with my hands on my hips as a red Honda civic pulled up behind me.
“Hey, you need some help?” a soft voice asked through her open window.
She was driving a car. She wouldn’t know how to help me.
“Nope. I’m good,” I said as she climbed out from the car. I didn’t bother looking at her as she stood to my side.
“Nice bike,” she said with appreciation.
“Thanks.”
Sure. I could have struck up a conversation, but I didn’t need to be talking. I needed to be fixing. I glanced at my watch and saw I had a little under thirty minutes to make it to the meeting. Maybe this was a sign I shouldn’t go.
“What year is it?”
“Harley, 95.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Too much shaking,” I said, not bothering to be more specific. This woman probably didn’t know a thing about bikes.
“If you’ve already checked the suspensions and shock absorbers, I’d suggest checking if the seat bolts are properly bolted. You’d be surprised how many people forget that,” she said, turning to get in the car.
“Wait,” I said, turning to her. Most women didn’t know the first thing about cars, let alone motorcycles.
“I’m sorry,” she said, standing just out of the street light. “I can’t. I have somewhere to be and I don’t want to be late. Good luck with your bike.” She climbed into her car, the light briefly illuminating her face before shutting the door.
It was her.
The girl from last week.
The one-night stand.
What was her name?
I couldn’t remember it and I was left standing in front of my bike looking lost.
She was right. I hadn’t checked my seat bolts. They were loose. I tightened them by hand and the extra shakes and noise went away. I knew that. I already knew that about my own bike. I just forgot. I couldn’t believe I forgot that.
I went a little faster than the speed limit and pulled into the church parking lot one minute before seven. I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself before entering. I was nervous, but I didn’t want my face to show everything I was feeling. With confidence that I didn’t feel, I walked in the church and followed the signs to a small gymnasium. Several people were already standing in the typical circle and I could hear introductions being made. Two men stepped aside to allow me into the circle and I nodded thanks as the next person started talking.
“My name is Molly.”
“Hi, Molly,” everyone said as I made eye contact with the woman from the one-night stand, the woman who drove a red Honda civic, and the woman right across the circle from me.
“And I’m an addict.”
Molly. So that was her name.
Why the hell was she there?
After all the nasty things I did to her the other night, it almost seemed sacrilegious meeting again in a church.
Almost.
It was part fate and part inconvenience; that was my life.
Chapter 6
Molly
Holy shit. It was him. Ethan. He was there. Of all places to see your one-night stand, a narcotic anonymous meeting isn’t one you’d expect. What were the odds? I could barely keep my eyes off him as we went around the circle. Introductions were brief and I barely heard anyone’s names because I was waiting for him to speak.
“Hi. My name is Ethan, and I’m an addict.”
The moderator welcomed all newcomers and encouraged everyone to speak on their journey. Slowly, we went around the circle and I could barely keep myself from huffing with impatience until Ethan spoke.
“I’ve been sober for two years. I�
��m here to check in. Every day is a fight and most times I rarely think about it. Still, it’s never easy. I know that I could slip up at any time and knowing that keeps me human. Keeps me sane. It keeps my feet on the ground anytime I feel it slipping from under me.”
I could relate to everything he was saying. I knew all about losing the ground under your feet. Somehow, in the light of day, with clothes on, he was even more intriguing and tempting than he was naked and pounding into me.
My turn came and I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans before speaking. “I’ve been on this journey for a long time and I’ve started over several times, but now I have been sober for six years and looking forward to making ten. You guys keep me in check. Thanks for being here.”
We ended with the serenity prayer as we ended every meeting, and just as I suspected, Ethan tried to get away. I was hoping he’d want a slice of cake from the refreshment table – I did. He was quick to find the exit and almost made it to his bike before I called his name. Cake could wait.
“Ethan!”
He hesitated, which means he heard me, but he continued walking. I followed him and said the one thing that I knew would get his attention. “You forgot to say thanks.”
He stopped and turned his head. “For what?”
I shrugged, “For fixing your bike. My advice obviously worked.”
“It wasn’t your advice. I already knew that about my bike.”
“Okay. Whatever you say,” I said, barely keeping myself from snickering. Boys and their toys. “Want to get some coffee with me?” It was a random question and dumb; there was plenty of coffee back in the church. I could see him hesitating, but I needed him to say yes. I couldn’t let him get away again. “It’s not a date. It’s just coffee.”
“Okay,” he said mounting his bike. “Where to?”
Flagstaff was my territory. I knew there was a Starbucks around the block.
“There’s a Starbucks not too far from here.”
“I really shouldn’t,” he said, scratching his beard.
“So?” I said, cocking my eyebrow. “You always do what you’re supposed to do?”
He laughed loudly, bending over his bike. “You’re so right. All right, I’ll follow you.”
