Out From Under

by Selene Chardou

  The cashier gave me my card back after the purchase went through and handed me my receipt. I stuck the card in my purse and kept the receipt in my hand while I waited for Mr. Liar to come clean.

  Linx sighed as I slipped on my Bluetooth, threw my phone in my oversized handbag and handed the male employee standing at the exit my receipt. It took forever for the employee to go through my long list of alcohol beverages.

  “Promise you won’t be mad?” he finally said on the other end.

  “Depends. I don’t exactly have time in my life for stalkers, Linx.”

  “Well, at the moment, I’m working crazy insane hours at the studio, and go home so exhausted, I usually have a beer, smoke a joint and go straight to bed. I don’t exactly have time to stalk anyone, Trista,” he snapped back.

  As soon as I was cleared by the receipt checker and free to push my heavy cart of alcohol out of the warehouse, I responded, albeit reluctantly, “I won’t get mad. It’s just I already have a crazy, psycho ex, who is a full charter member of the Bastards—sponsored by my brother, mind you—texting and blowing up my phone constantly. I can’t figure out he got my new number in the first place. I don’t want you to start doing it too. I’ll let you in on a little secret about me, Linx: there is nothing special about me. Zip, zero, zilch. Nada, not a goddamn thing.

  “I’m an eighteen year old woman with a world of problems. My only claim to fame is a famous cousin who can make miracles happen in the studio, on stage and in her personal life too. I am not even old enough to drink, but I just walked out of Costco with enough booze to pass out a whole party full of revelers. Talia knows the right people who made a fake California ID for me that looks and feels real.”

  He laughed on the other end and it was infectious; I smiled though he couldn’t see it. “You might not think you’re special, but everyone has their worth, Trista, including you. I don’t know why I asked Talia for your number. She gave it to me albeit reluctantly. I assured her my intentions were not pervy and I truly wanted to get to know you. I feel like a dirty old man sniffing up behind you, but I’d like to be your friend…if you would let me.”

  My mind focused on what was not being said, and there was so much emotion and heartbreak in his tone, I was close to crying. Vulnerable and naked before me, after a devastating marriage, he merely wanted friendship and there was nothing wrong with that. His marriage had been finalized over a year ago and his grieving should have stopped, the healing commenced, and seriously, he should have been ready to move the fuck on.

  If I could harden my heart to the death of family members only a couple months’ previously, though the pain was so fresh I couldn’t even say their names without crying, he should have been able to get over whatever kind of mind fuck Cassidy had obviously performed on him.

  “Hey, are you still there?” His deep voice and sexy Boston accent jolted me out of my contemplative episode.

  “Yeah, just loading up the alcohol for tonight,” I replied, before I stopped what I was doing and leaned against the side of my car, the hatchback trunk fully opened. “Yes, we can do the ‘friend’ thing. I don’t have many people I know in L.A. so the more the merrier.”

  “Good.” I could hear the relief in his strong, masculine voice. “See you tonight then.”

  I ended the call and began to struggle with heavy boxes as I slowly loaded them into the car.

  “Do you need some help with that, ma’am?”

  My hackles went up completely, as ice coursed through my veins and my heart skipped a beat. I knew the voice all too well; I hadn’t grown up in Northern Nevada without a run in with all the motorcycle gangs in the area.

  Brooklyn Decker.

  Sergeant at Arms.

  Member of the White Knights MC.

  He was one of the worst; he climbed the ranks so quickly because his uncle was the president of the club. It also helped that he’d murdered the man who’d previously held his position because he was tired of waiting for the COPD and emphysema to kick in bad enough for one of the founding fathers’ of the club to die. He and Tristan had also gone to school together.

  What the fuck was he doing in L.A.? They didn’t even run the meth trade down here, not through the charter club. Their Southern California division handled it.

  I reached into my purse inconspicuously and grabbed a can of Mace, just in case, as I turned to face him.

  “What are you doing here, Decker? Stalking me?”

  His head was shaved, but he wore a skull cap to cover up the swastika tattoo he had there.. His icy-blue eyes glared into mine. “Don’t flatter yourself, Trista. I’m just about to head in to get some booze for a party tonight.”

  Where the hell were my bodyguards when I needed them?

  I crossed my arms against my chest defensively and glared at him. “What do you want and why are you even talking to me?”

  “Call your brother off. Tell him to stop killing members of our club, because we had nothing to do with your parents’ and brother’s death,” Decker responded, as he leaned toward me, yet not close enough to cause a scene.

  “You know as well as I do that no one can control Trey—he isn’t going to listen to me. That’s club business and even I can’t interfere with that—you know that. I can’t do shit about his activities, especially when I am in a different state!” I hissed in anger.

  Decker’s eyes were lifeless, soulless, and not even one ounce of pity crept into his harsh, smoker’s voice. “Yeah, but you can talk to Jonesy. He’s always had a soft spot for you and he’ll call his top dog off. Either that, or ask him if he wants to bury another family member…specifically his baby sister?”

  I knew better than to think any threat from a White Knight, specifically their Sergeant at Arms, was anything other than real and a true danger.

  My breath came in short bursts as I started getting close to having a full blown anxiety attack. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  He leaned in closer to me and I could smell his foul, unwashed body odor and at least a couple of days’ worth of sweat, alcohol and cigarette smoke leaking from his pores, to cause a nauseating combination that made me want to puke. “You do that.”

  “Is there anything wrong, Ms. Lennon?”

  It was Marco, my lead body guard. Jared, the other one, pretended to be fiddling with stations in the Mini parked next to my SUV.

  “I assure you, nothing is wrong.” Decker smiled, displaying off-white teeth, stained from years of tobacco usage and foul breath—a deadly combination when I already felt light-headed and overwhelmed by his proximity to me. “Ms. Lennon and I are old friends.”

  “If you could please escort this gentleman out of my presence, Marco, I would be most grateful.” My voice didn’t sound like mine but I managed the sentence without hesitation or a stutter.

  “Certainly, Ms. Lennon.” Marco moved in fast, grabbing Decker’s arm and hauled him away.

  I breathed a sigh of relief as Jared stepped out of the Mini and loaded the rest of the cart into my vehicle for me.

  He whistled. “I knew guys in the SEALs like that fucking asshole. They were all ice—complete and utter sociopaths, who just liked to get their gun off and blow shit up. They passed all the psych tests because they were just hard-wired that way. Human life was cheap and they couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.”

  “Yeah?” I looked at Jared and smiled. “I’ve been around men like Decker my whole life and nothing ever changes. Apparently, I can’t escape my demons by leaving home.”

  “No, you can’t, but that doesn’t mean you should worry about it. That’s why your cousin hired us. We might be former SEALs but we haven’t lost our skills or our training. That man will never step within one hundred yards of you ever again—not on our watch.”

  Jared finished loading up my vehicle and closed the trunk before he winked at me. He shot me a friendly smile, and hopped back into the Mini as Marco strolled over to me.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? I will have to report his
threat to Talia because she insisted she stay involved and up to date—”

  “Please, don’t,” I interrupted, shaking my head. “She’s pregnant and she doesn’t need to be burdened with my problems. Decker doesn’t want me anyway. He’s pissed at my brother and to be honest, that’s none of my business. Trey can handle himself, he has a whole MC behind him and he’s Sergeant at Arms for the Bastards’ charter club as well.”

  Marco shook his head, his penetrating brown eyes glaring into my own. “I won’t say anything this time, but if anything else like this happens, she will know everything that went down. You got me?”

  I nodded, vigorously, before I walked over and hopped into my SUV.

  I thought I would be okay, but my hands shook, and I knew the whole incident had affected me more than I wanted to let my guards know. The demons from my past were haunting my present.

  BY THE TIME the party was in full swing, I’d taken a Xanax, enjoyed a long, hot shower, and changed into a pretty black and cream lace dress, which skimmed my curves and ended right above the knee. Paired with four-inch Chanel Mary Jane heels, I thought I looked sweet yet accessible.

  My makeup was minimal, but I made a bit more effort. My eyes were dark and smoky and the dark red lip gloss gave my lips a shine, without overpowering the carefully applied, eye enhancing makeup.

  Suffice to say, I could tell that Linx was impressed with my work when he stepped into the party and our eyes locked.

  He looked casual in dark blue jeans that were slightly baggy, a black wife beater, and matching Doc Martens with black laces.

  Docs always held good and bad memories for me. They were kick ass shit kickers, sturdy comfortable boots, but the White Knights sullied them for me. They wore them with white laces as an indication that they were neo-Nazi skinheads who’d managed to get their shit together long enough to form an MC.

  Sometimes I wished I could give myself a lobotomy just so I wouldn’t compare every little thing in my new life to the old one. That was how I viewed my life with Talia, my ‘new life’. She was so full of spirit and had so much life in her, it was easy to forget I couldn’t call my parents to let them know I was having a blast in L.A. or Tristan to tell him that the City of Angels wasn’t all bad and there were real, genuine people here too, who could see past all the fakeness and glitz.

  I grabbed a champagne cocktail from one of the passing waiters, who balanced drinks on a tray perfectly, as he strolled through the party. It was such an amazing sight to see so many famous people and was I completely suffering from information overload. I thought I would have gotten used to it by now, but I wasn’t and probably never would be. This wasn’t my life; I was simply borrowing pieces of Talia’s and felt like a complete and utter imposter.

  I walked outside to the pool area and examined the perfectly square-shaped pool, with its deep blue tiles that made the water appear a dark royal blue. I sipped my cocktail and sat down on one of the comfortable loungers. This was the perfect place to observe the party without having to participate, I thought dreamily, until a waft of cigarette smoke drifted my way. I turned to see Linx.

  He was only about twenty feet away, but he might as well have been a mile from me as far as I was concerned. He was talking on the phone and, from his tone, he wasn’t happy as he paced the length of the pool. I watched as he turned and our eyes met.

  His blue eyes penetrated mine with such intensity, it felt like time had stopped; I looked away though I could still feel his gaze. It bore through me and I suddenly felt like I was suffering from heart palpitations, its beat so fierce in my chest. I felt my breasts heave up and down as if they were trying to escape the thin, lace material of my dress. With some effort I finally managed to look away to study the party again.

  Talia and Sydney, the heir to a Norwegian shipping empire, stood together. Their talk was animated and they both held tall crystal glasses of sparkling San Pellegrino since they were both preggers. I’d met Sydney and, like everyone else, knew she and Kasper Gillian, rock God and the lead singer of Scarlet’s Regret, were engaged. She was glowing and patted Talia’s growing bump. My cousin was four months along but still, her stomach was small, though slightly rounded.

  I smiled because Talia seemed happy, despite her overly complicated love life. I envied her: she was living her dream and that must have been mind-blowing. How would it feel for me to live out my dream? It wasn’t overly complicated or artistic but I still wanted to pursue it when, and if, I finally came to terms with what my life had been for the past couple of months.

  “Were you listening to my conversation?” Linx’s voice inquired and immediately interrupted my contemplation.

  “No, I haven’t a clue who you were talking to,” I replied, as he sat next to me, and slid his phone beside him on the lounger. .

  “Oh yeah…sometimes I forget you aren’t just another star-fuck looking for her next victim on the horizon. I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” He walked back into the house, grabbed a Beck’s from one of the passing waiters before he quickly returned. It was demolished within three deep swallows. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”

  I snickered before I sipped from my drink. “I know you find this hard to believe, but I have attended more than enough parties to last me a lifetime. The crowd may be different here, but the outcome is the same. Just a lot of drunk people talking about nothing in particular.”

  Linx stared at me for far too long and I found myself feeling slightly uncomfortable. My face became a matching crimson color to prove it.

  He was so not Clooney.

  He was a rock star and a famous one at that. Though bassists weren’t usually considered sex symbols, he had way too many fan pages. He was hot and sexy and could have any woman in the world, so why was he wasting his time chatting with me?

  “Don’t let me stop you from getting back inside to mingle with your friends.” I finally looked in his direction and those fucking blue eyes stared into mine, searing the edges of my tattered, torn and nearly destroyed soul.

  “Actually, I was going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here and go for a drive? It wouldn’t be very long one because I live about a mile from here, but we could head up to Mulholland Drive.”

  “Been there, done that.” I paused to finish the rest of my drink. “Your house sounds promising, though. You smoke bud? I could really do with having an out of body experience at the moment.”

  Linx raised inquisitive eyebrows. “You look too innocent to indulge in Chronic.” Reaching out, the fingers of his left hand lightly traced my jaw, a hint of seduction behind the movement. “You look so clean and unused. I will have to watch myself around you. Talia would murder me if I deflowered her virginal cousin.”

  It was my turn to laugh, shaking my head. “Jeez, she really does paint me as a nun. That isn’t me at all, just so you know.” I looked away from him before I stared into those endless pools of blue again. “You wanna impress me? Get me into a hot club here that’s for the twenty-one and over crowd. I’ve already told you that I have a fake ID, so no worries, but I want to see if they’ll card me at all if I am with you.”

  He breathed deeply as he leaned in close, his voice soft next to my ear. “That’s dangerous. What if the paparazzi catch us? They’ll definitely take our picture and claim we’re a couple. I am not ready to get my balls sliced off…yet, by Talia for fucking with her young, impressionable cousin.”

  I laughed out loud at this statement. “Young, yes. Impressionable? Um, no. Ever seen that movie, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me?”

  “Of course. I might be in a mainstream rock band, but I have always been the avant-garde member. I think David Lynch is a fucking genius and have watched all of his movies at least ten times. I own the whole Twin Peaks series. What’s your point?” He questioned, as he moved closer to me; I could smell the enticing scent of his cologne, a mixture of amber, sage and lavender.

  Our legs were pressed against one another, from hip to knee and it was distra
cting. “Well, Lynch isn’t wrong about small towns. Pine Bluff is a lot like Twin Peaks, except my father never raped me and I wasn’t a secret coke head. I did date a bad ass biker prospect my brother sponsored after Clooney came back from Afghanistan, and I am not a virgin. I’m not promiscuous and have only been with one man, but I know what sex is all about and have seen some of the most depraved acts you can imagine.”

  “Well, okay then. Let’s get you to that club,” Linx stood and held out his hands, which I grabbed.

  He pulled me up easily and in the rush of gravity and sheer weight, I was suddenly crushed against his chest. My breasts perked at the lean, hardness that was his body. I didn’t know how long this whole “flirtation” scene could go on between us, but I didn’t care.

  For the first time in a long time, I was actually having fun and I wanted to be alone with him, no matter how dangerous it was to me or my heart.

  Chapter Twelve

  LINX DROVE DOWN the street in his Escalade while Trista sang along to will.i.am’s “#thatPOWER”. She was really good when it came to the Justin Bieber parts, and mocked his voice perfectly.

  “Ever thought about being a back-up singer?” he asked, as he stole a glance of her while doing his best to concentrate on the road.

  “I can’t sing to save my life, but I like will.i.am’s album, #willpower. I listen to all types of music including all that old rock shit. Jonesy liked U2 and Coldplay but he was mostly old school: Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Jimi Hendrix—bands from his faraway youth. I can appreciate the hardness of Winter’s Regret and Scarlet Fever just as I can the softness of Mariah Carey and Robin Thicke. My iPod is so full of different artists, I probably seem schizophrenic. I have everything from Sarah McLachlan and Mylène Farmer to Kanye West and Jay-Z. I don’t discriminate where music is concerned,” she explained, as he turned the volume down.