Out From Under

by Selene Chardou

  “Dad, it’s true. I have been at the clubhouse and yes, I have been seeing Trey though you told us all to stay away from him,” I began in a quiet voice, while my heart thundered so hard, it hurt my chest.

  “It’s dangerous, Trista. Your brother is in a gang and they could hurt you just to get back at me. I still can’t believe Jonesy made him Sergeant at Arms when he knows I’m in bed with the Saints,” my dad replied with concerned, bright blue eyes.

  “You’re not in bed with the Saints, Dad. You just do their books. That is quite different—”

  “Not really.” He sighed quietly before he stood, walked over to his bar and poured himself a stiff Macallan 30 into a crystal glass. He strolled back to his chair and sat down again. “I never wanted this for my children. It’s why I became something as boring as an accountant. You know what your uncles are like and how they are caught up in all that shit back in Boston. It’s why I moved us out here to this clean country—”

  “—turns out Pine Bluff wasn’t as ‘clean’ as you thought it would be,” I interrupted. “Crime has always been a part of our family and you can’t escape your demons by leaving home, Dad. I know that and I promise to be careful when I get to Stanford, if you promise me that you and Mom will look after yourselves.”

  My dad laughed then swigged from his scotch. “We’re not that old, Trista. Believe me when I say I am making sure my family will be looked after. I worry about you and your relationship with that boy.”

  Shit. He knew about Clooney.

  “What boy?” I stalled for time as my mind raced and my heart thundered so hard in my chest, I was sure he could see the pulse point in my neck.

  “That boy…Austin Clooney. The prospect they are about to vote in as a full charter member.” Dad swigged from his scotch again before he set the glass down. “I don’t relish my daughter becoming an old lady and I want you to stay away from there. I know he was your first and I don’t want to think about how he…sullied my little girl. You’ve probably said your goodbyes and once you are gone, you are to end it with him, is that understood?”

  I’m shocked you didn’t use the word, “deflower”.

  I so did not want to have a conversation about my sex life with my dad right now or ever to be exact. I was perfectly happy with him imagining me being a virgin forever. Catholic guilt played heavily on my mind and in my heart.

  Pre-marital sex. One of the seven deadly sins as far as Catholics were concerned, right up there with birth control and abortion.

  I’d committed two out of three, although it was Clooney who kept the condoms, and I thanked God there had never been any accidents because I really would have been made to be an old lady. That wasn’t part of my future plans in any way, shape or form.

  “Dad, I’m ending it with Clooney but I wanted to wait until I got to Stanford. It’s just easier that way. No one gets hurt and we can both move on with our lives. I have no illusions about him staying faithful to me, even if he does love me but…it’s not meant to be and I know that.” I tucked a lock of my silky, dark hair behind my right ear with a nervous hand that shook a little. “How did you find out?”

  “Your mother. You were silly enough to be seen with him at the Boatworks Shopping Mall. You think just because it’s on the California side of the border your mother never goes there? If she is on a mission, she’ll venture there or Reno or even fucking Las Vegas to find what she is looking for.

  “She saw you two together in the food court. You were laughing and snuggled up close to one another. We’re not idiots and we do realize that although you just turned eighteen over a month ago, you’re an old soul. Neither of us expected you to be a virgin now…we were glad you waited as long as you did, but not with him. I won’t have my only daughter tied up in a gang. It’s unthinkable. I’ve already lost Trey…I refuse to lose you too.”

  I breathed in through my nose and exhaled through my mouth. “Dad, it’s a moot point because Clooney and I aren’t gonna happen. I told you that. It’s over. We dated for eighteen months and I made him wait for six months…until I turned seventeen. He was out of commission during that time anyway because his leg was all messed up due to all the surgeries—”

  “Just promise me you’ll stay away from him, and Trey…and the clubhouse for two goddamn days? That’s when you leave for Stanford and I couldn’t be happier to see you get away from here.” My father looked weary and a bit aggravated but though he’d sworn, he hadn’t raised his voice to me and for that I was grateful.

  “I promise, Dad.” I stood, walked over to my dad and embraced him before I kissed his cheek. “I’m off to bed. Good night and don’t stay up too late.”

  “Shouldn’t I be telling you that?”

  “Why? I might read a bit before I fall asleep but I promise to be asleep at a decent hour.”

  He laughed and turned back to his laptop as we separated.

  My last thought before I closed the double doors to his office was I hoped I could keep my promise to stay away from Clooney.

  THE PROMISE I’D made to my father lasted less than fifteen hours. It was around noon the following day when I received a phone call.

  I stared at my Samsung Galaxy S4 for a few stolen moments before I answered, “Clooney, what’s going on?”

  “Listen, I know you’re leaving the day after tomorrow and you said we should end this but…I just got patched in! I couldn’t think of another person I would want to share this news with but you.”

  I stood from my comfortable bed and began to pace in a pair of Victoria’s Secret logo pajama bottoms and a white cami with a built-in shelf bra. My heart thudded in my chest as my breath came out quickly and heavily.

  What the hell was I supposed to say to this news? I knew he would want to see me and I knew what those patch parties were like. Clooney was officially a Demon’s Bastard and a gang member according to the state of Nevada and the United States government. Motorcycle clubs were not recognized as such, due to their usual illegal activities which made them more like gangs than any sort of social club.

  “Trista, are you there?” he inquired.

  I put him on speaker phone and threw my cell phone on my bed. “I need to take a shower and get dressed. I should be there shortly.”

  “Thanks, babe. I can’t wait to see you.”

  “You too.”

  “Love you,” he said before the call ended.

  Was our relationship about love? It had to be, because we didn’t always have sex when we were together. Sometimes we just hung out and he was just content having me around. He always seemed so proud for me to be on his arm and although I knew I was an attractive woman, I didn’t understand why he was so happy to go out with me.

  I was a bit maudlin and a huge nerd. My major was Business Administration with a minor in German because I wanted to work for one of the big pharmaceutical companies. That was my dream: to be a damn suit and a fucking bean counter. How was I creative or fascinating in any way?

  Though I could admit to caring for Clooney, I wasn’t in love with him. I could leave him behind and eventually forget he ever existed at all. I wouldn’t have been able to do that with someone I was truly in love with; my emotions were too overwhelming and the actual feeling of being apart would kill me.

  My pacing stopped in front of the floor length mirror I had cater-corner to an oak armoire. I looked at myself and stared at my reflection. My long hair would need to be cut and right now, soft silky waves weaved through my dark hair with its chestnut highlights. I did the fish-lip look and did a few poses before I stuck my tongue out at my reflection.

  I had a fucking club party to pretty up for and fun times lay ahead.

  Chapter Six

  TOKYO TURNED OUT to be an experience far beyond surreal for Linx.

  It was a mind fuck of people, images, buildings and activity but the environment had a completely rushed, yet relaxed, quality to it. The Japanese people were polite and though he’d run into countless people by accident as he
walked down the street with Niko, they certainly didn’t give him the evil eye like he would have received in South Boston or a flip-off if they were in Manhattan.

  Instead, the people apologized and he found himself doing the same thing on their second day there. It was like being in a perfect homogenized society where everyone treated each other with respect and he’d never been as hyper-aware of being white in his life as he was in this perfect, Westernized society where the population just happened to be Asian.

  Not even his dyed black hair could make him blend in, not with his creamy complexion, which was almost borderline alabaster territory. He and Niko tried to look as inconspicuous as possible, but even with their clothes and sunglasses, many Japanese fans knew who they were almost immediately.

  They had three concerts to do in Tokyo and the first one was that night, but they’d practiced earlier and Talia had said everyone should relax and enjoy the rest of the day. Both men asked the hotel staff about interesting activities and they were referred to Seventh Heaven, a strip club that was popular with locals and tourists.

  Ten minutes inside, and Linx was ready to leave. It turned out not to be that different from any other upscale strip club he’d attended around the world. The women were beautiful but had that empty, hard look in their eyes as if the only thing they cared about was how much money a mark—or a man who was considered an easy target—had and what they could do to relieve said mark of as much cash as possible.

  “This is awesome, dude,” Niko exclaimed, as a bleached blonde woman with an Australian accent danced in front of him.

  Linx smirked and drank from a bottle of Sapporo beer. “We see more pussy than this at after parties. I don’t see how this is a great way of spending our time. I should have gone to the Harajuku district with Talia and Sydney.”

  “You can be such a fag sometimes—why the fuck would you want to shop here? All the men are like five foot, six inches and are lucky if they weigh more than one hundred and forty pounds soaking wet. Wait till we get to Australia to shop. Good grief. You’re missing all this top shelf pussy worrying about shopping.”

  It was times like this that Niko annoyed the hell out of him.

  He stayed through two tortuous hours before they headed back to the hotel. Of course he took another shower and changed into his clothes. There was a knock on the door to his hotel suite as he slid on a leather coat. It was freezing, barely thirty-five degrees and though he’d be shrugging it off before they performed, he would wear it until they got to the Tokyo Dome.

  Linx strolled over to answer it, stepping back as he faced Talia who wore a leather, sleeveless cat suit and comfortable black Doc Martens on her feet. She’d recently had a tat sleeve done from below her elbow to just above her wrist on her left arm and it was out on display.

  “It’s addicting, isn’t it?” he inquired, motioning to her arm, for lack of anything else to say.

  She was an intimidating figure and usually didn’t show up at the other member’s hotel rooms until about two hours before show time, so he wondered whether he was in trouble or she truly needed to talk.

  “Yeah, it is.” She walked in past him and he closed the door behind her.

  They all had Park suites at the Park Hyatt and although they were small, they were luxurious and quite large in regards to what the Japanese were familiar with in terms of size; therefore, he didn’t complain. All he needed was a place to lay his head at the end of the night. He was traveling by himself and the suite was adequate enough.

  Linx sat next to her on his unmade bed and she stared into his eyes, her pale green irises bright and a stark contrast to her gorgeous face. “We haven’t spoken much and you seem to be the quiet, introspective member of the band so I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

  He laughed out loud before he replied, “I was talking about your new tattoo half-sleeve. I’m fine, I don’t have an issue with you being the head vagina in charge and if I am a bit maudlin, it has nothing to do with the band and everything to do with my own personal life.”

  Talia grinned. “You have an excellent sense of humor. I didn’t think you had an issue with me anymore, but when we sit down to write the music for these little lyrics I have, I want to have your input too.”

  “You’ll get it,” he said in a quiet voice.

  She grabbed his right hand with her left and held on tightly. “I love him too, Linx. My personal life—what’s going on between Jaden and I—doesn’t negate the emotions I have for Seth but he couldn’t have stayed. Not after he overdosed and almost died in Copenhagen—it was obvious then he needed help unless he did it for the attention and I don’t think he would be that reckless with his life. I begged Dom to allow him to keep a job in Winter’s Regret. Without this band, he wouldn’t want to live, and do you honestly think I want his death on my conscience?”

  He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. She was right and the band hadn’t been in a great place because he, Niko and Kris had walked on eggshells around Seth. It was for the best that he was gone and getting cleaned up. The last thing any of them should have had to deal with was a druggie for a lead singer.

  Linx knew he wasn’t a saint. He liked his chronic and every now and then, he would have a couple of lines of coke to take the edge off, but that was as far as he took it. He’d never messed with anything in the opiate family because he had cousins who were Oxy-heads or addicted to “the Blues” or “hillbilly heroin” as it was called back in Boston.

  “I know you had his best interests at heart, Talia.” Linx swallowed hard and felt his Adam’s apple bob. “Listen, what you do with your personal life is none of my business. My own is really fucked up right now and when this tour is over, I can start to piece everything back together. I need to be kept busy with work because it means money, and money means I can shut my ex up as long as I continue to take care of her.”

  Talia let his hand go and ran hers through her red-streaked dark hair. “I know. It was all I thought about when Seth did what he did to us. I was so afraid Dom was just going to tear up our contract, and I understand both you and Niko have families to take care of…this isn’t just some gig—this is your livelihood that asshole played with, and I wanted to make sure you two were compensated.”

  Linx glared at her with cold blue eyes. “What do you mean? What did you do?”

  “Seth is going to have to pay for his own treatment. Introspect would have picked up the tab but I talked to Dom and the money he lost due to being at Promises and not on tour will be given to you and Niko. I had Dom transfer it into your bank accounts. You shouldn’t have to worry about your job and now you won’t have to. I need you to sign off on me officially becoming the lead singer. Kris will vote in my favor but you and Niko…you have to agree too. I’m not buying your vote but I thought you could both use the extra money.”

  “How much money are we talking about?”

  “Roughly thirty grand each. Probably closer to forty-five grand because Dom wants Seth to spend a minimum of six weeks in rehab. The drug rehabilitation center costs about sixty grand per month.”

  Linx whistled out loud. “I am so glad I have never had an alcohol or drug dependency problem. That money is coming out of Seth’s check?”

  “His cut, yeah.” Talia rolled her eyes. “It seems like a lot of money but this tour is going to make us megabucks and all this constant exhaustion we’re feeling won’t be in vain. I promise you.

  “I am not saying he won’t miss it in his cut, because he never completed the tour but that isn’t our problem. He did this to himself and he has to pay the consequences.”

  All Linx could think about was how he could pocket that money and have his brother transfer it to his offshore account, the one Cassidy had no idea existed. He had most of his money in his Cayman Islands accounts; when they divorced, she was shocked he wasn’t worth more than what their joint bank account balances indicated.

  “By the way, how much do you pay your wife each month?”

&nb
sp; “You mean ex-wife? Five grand plus all household bills. The mortgage is paid off on the house so it isn’t like I am paying through the nose and it is certainly manageable. Believe me, Trista, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

  Talia pursed her lips. “It could always be worse. You could have been Tiger Woods.”

  “The women who came forward were much better looking than the skank she caught me on tape with…and I’m not worth half a billion dollars. The judge deemed it to be fair since it was less than thirty percent of my income according to my bank statements.”

  He smiled at her with devilish eyes. “Cassidy barely graduated from high school…math isn’t her strong suit and she grew up as one of four girls in a German-Irish Catholic household. Her dad barely made thirty grand a year and she gets sixty-five thousand a year for doing nothing but having two kids by me? She was thrilled with the settlement even though she is always broke before the end of the month, and I still give her money when she needs it.”

  Talia shook her head as she stood. “Cassidy better hope you remain single because no woman is going to put up with that. You taking care of your sons is one thing but giving her money because she can’t budget? That’s bullshit, Linx. You’re way more of a softy than I had you pegged for. Just goes to show you looks can be deceiving.”

  “You got that right,” he replied, as he walked her to the door. “I thought you were a pretty face with a great voice and not much else. It’s nice to know I was wrong and I apologize. I had no right to dislike you because you have single-handedly brought back Winter’s Regret from the brink.”

  She smiled then. “I should have…it was supposed to be my band, remember?”

  Linx looked away and thought about the shit they talked as nine year old kids, hoping it would never come back to haunt him.