by Liz K. Lorde
I could feel the first glimmers of that terrible craving, slithering just beneath the surface of my skin. And yet, I still smiled for the man, “Anything for you, Rockstar.”
Robert waved a hand dismissively, and then sidled over beside me, bumping me out of his station with his butt. “Go on and get out of here now.”
Smirking, I flicked some of the water off my gloves and into his face, before taking them off one by one. “You really know how to make a girl wet, Rob.”
“I really do,” he replied, his eyes crinkling with his smile. “If you think my kitchen skills are impressive, just imagine what these bad boys,” he flourished his fingers, “can do in the bedroom.”
I rolled my eyes, “Don’t worry I’ll spend my imagination—“ I placed a hand delicately on his shoulders, “on things that could, you know, happen once in a million years.”
Robert gave me a sad, puppy-like frown. “Is this what…rejection feels like?”
Laughing, I shook my head and walked away towards the front of the diner. Night draped the outside just beyond the windows; and inside it was a picture-esque view of what one would consider, a real mom and pop, diner. Funky green booths, and equally questionably fashionable stools over at the twenty foot length-wise counter. The tiles themselves were eggshell white, almost like someone had mopped the floor with milk; occasionally dropping the pink and teal that one might see on a paper cup from the 90’s.
Up above me, as I walked through the front, were a small scattering of lazy twirling fans. Honestly, they did little to keep the place cool – and were more, if anything, a host of not-so-pretty props to complete the illusion of small-town comfort.
There was one customer still at his lone, small, circular black table – the chair across from him was empty. He was one of our regulars, and almost always the last to leave when he would come in. Norman Zemeckis; profession? Trucker. Part-time job working a hell of a full time living? Purveyor of all things smut. Seriously, you wouldn’t think it by looking at him – what with his dark green cap, and his thick green vest and tight fitting jeans.
Walking over to him, I flashed Norman a genuine smile. Not the one that I had to keep well practiced for most customers. “You know what time it is, Norm.”
He sipped at his small cup of black coffee, his voice all smoke and southern, “Finish my coffee and I’ll be on my way,” he gave me a wink and a smile.
I cocked a brow, “You always say this, and yet Alicia is always having to beat you out of here with a damn broomstick. Some, more prying women, might think you have an attraction to her, Norm.”
He just sipped his coffee in response, but I could see how his smile told me all that I said was true.
“Alright,” I told him, turning on my heel, “I’m out of here. Don’t give Alicia too hard of a time,” as I walked away, I raised my hand in departure.
After a quick spell of walking, I entered Alicia’s tiny, closet of an office; she was sitting there, looking over at me in her brown, reclining chair. “All clear out there?” She asked in her dainty voice – she sounded deceptively young, but really she was pushing her late thirties.
“Yep. All clear aside from Norm.”
Alicia adjusted her glasses and tried to stifle her chortle. She then brought herself back to reading, what I presumed to be, papers involving the shipment of our monthly inventory. “Go on and head out,” she pushed out in a slow breath, and then tutted with her tongue, “that man is going to be the end of me. I just know it.”
Wincing, I brought a hand to my stomach and bit down on my lip. “Y-yeah,” I offered, trying to mask the sudden wave of nausea that assaulted me.
“Hon?” Alicia asked.
“I’m fine,” I lied, giving her my most decidedly crooked smile. “Just cramps from Her Lady Red.” Alicia’s brows glided upward in acknowledgement, and she gave a tight wag of her chin. “Anyway, have a good night, Alicia. You did get my shift trade, right?”
“You too, hon, and yes, Olivia will cover you.” She waved me out and I worked my way out to the back of the building. Alicia could be a real hardass during the busier hours, but when closing came around she was sweeter than Texas tea. The nightly air was cool against my skin, and I saw that Robert had noticed me coming out the back. He raised his chin and called out to me: “You need a lift?”
“Nah, I’m good,” I hollered back, “drive safe!”
“Alright! Don’t walk home alone, girl.” I watched as he entered his rusted up, sky blue colored Gremlin. The engine sputtered to life, and when Robert pulled out and around, he gave me a final, smooth wave, before departing. Normally I would have let him give me a lift, but I could feel the cold worms wriggling beneath my bones – and more importantly, doctor Jasmine was going to give me a place to detox.
After having spent the night with Elizabeth, last night, and hearing her horror stories about this friend of Damien’s; I was eager to fully remove myself from that world. It made my body prickle with gooseflesh, the thought of someone stabbing holes into a condom.
Only a manipulative monster could stoop so low.
Taking a seat on one of the long since unused, black, plastic boxes, I waited for about fifteen minutes longer than she’d told me to wait for. My heart would drop in my chest at every sound of a car passing on the nearby road; occasionally, I’d be bombarded with the sound of trucks, police sirens and a host of other vehicles.
When boredom and anxiety were both digging into me hard, that was when I heard the sound of a motorcycle roaring like a demon in the distance.
It was coming closer. Closer still. The glow of the motorcycle’s headlights came into view, as it purred along and rounded the corner – rolling smoothly into the backlot. Immediately, even beneath the blanket of night, my stomach went into knots when I recognized him. Just what the hell was he doing here?
There was no way this could be a coincidence.
I felt my throat tighten in unpleasant constriction. When his bike came to a stop, I crossed my arms and called out, “What’re you doing here?” Handsome. Dangerous. Enigmatic. They were all words that flew through my mind, when his dark, enchanting, chocolate eyes met with me.
Gabriel’s richly colored eyebrows knitted together, and he swung his long, muscular legs off of the bike. He was wearing knifed-up, black jeans. His black club cut was worn over a smoky, gray shirt. “Should be asking you the same thing.”
Standing up, I narrowed my eyes at the man, “I work here.” There was this wonderfully peculiar, static field around the man. One that entranced me and enticed me closer; somehow I found the strength to resist.
“Good for you,” he clipped with that gruff, country-esque accent. He looked around the lot, finding a whole bunch of nothing. His beautiful eyes set back on me and we shared an uncomfortable silence. “Are you?…”
My eyebrows glided upward in response.
The lines on Gabriel’s handsome face turned to something pensive, and then he said: “No,” he shook his head, “ah hell no, there’s not a fuckin’ chance they were talking about you.”
They? They who? My eyes searched Gabriel’s face and the only thought that danced in my brain, was that there wasn’t any way this was random. “I don’t know what the hell you’re going on about,” I announced, sticking my chest out a bit.
I never expected to see this biker again. For as much as he helped me that night, he had a way of pushing my buttons – and with just one look. So I asked, “Wait, do you know Jasmine?”
“Know her?” He chortled, stepping closer to me with his heavy boots. “Listen here Hot Topic, I’ve went to war for her. Yes I damn well know her.”
Lightning pushed its way through me, “Whoa, whoa, calm down you a-hole,” I brought up a hand for emphasis. In the back of my mind, I corrected myself to ‘you cocky, gorgeous a-hole’ and continued: “How the hell was I supposed to know that? Where is she?”
Gabriel ran a hand hard through his hair, and before he spoke, he took a moment to push out an e
qually hard breath. “Not here,” he said.
I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, obviously, Country Boy. She was supposed to be here,” it irritated me, the thought of having to repeat my question. This invasive urge to run my tongue across the man’s lip piercing, filled my whole body.
“And she’s not here,” he gruffed. He took his hand and started making gestures in the air with it, like he was painting. “Incase you haven’t gotten the picture yet, Madeline,” when he said my name, it was as though every hair on my body became pulled to him. “I’m here on Jasmine’s behalf.”
Clenching my fist into a ball, I closed the distance between me and the biker, “She didn’t say anything about anyone—“ I caught myself, flustered with the idea of him knowing about my personal shit. I averted my eyes from Gabriel’s gaze, “It’s just going to be me and you for tonight then, right?” Jasmine hadn’t specified I’d be waiting for her to come and get me tonight, now that I thought about it.
“Jasmine’s a busy girl,” Gabriel opined, “maybe miss Mom-to-be doesn’t want a junkie in her home.”
Fire stabbed right through me, “And you do?” I scathed.
He said nothing for a moment. “Look,” he started, “Jasmine’s part of the family, and I’d do anything for family. Even things I’m…” it looked like it was taking every ounce of his strength to calm himself. “Not comfortable with doing. So, now that you know what’s what, if we’re going to do this – I’m telling you straight up.”
“Save it,” I put up a hand and barked. The static field that he had, it was pulling me in – tempting me towards the truly forbidden fruit. But this would never work. Jasmine was kind and caring, I trusted her not to judge me – this man only saw me for my worst.
I turned on my heel and began to walk away.
Gabriel made long strides to catch up with me, and sidled to block my way: “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Wherever I damn well please. Preferably somewhere, where you’re not going to look at me like I’m dead weight.”
“Fat chance, sweetheart.”
“Excuse me?” I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. When I tried to sidestep the man, he mirrored my movements – and we began an annoying dance. I’d never considered first degree murder until that very moment.
Gabriel crossed his arms over one another, and he gave me a stern look; those haunting chocolate eyes drew me in so effortlessly, “You asked for help. Now you’re going to get it. We can do this either the easy way, or the hard way.” Some dark, invasive part of my brain gushed at the thought of going about this the hard way.
“No,” I told him coldly, standing my ground. “I’ve decided I don’t need your help, I can figure this out on my own. Try rehab again.”
Gabriel scoffed, and then stepped even closer – leaving only an inch between us at most. He looked down at me with smoldering eyes, and I felt like I might burn up by standing too close. “You don’t want my help. But you do need it.”
“No,” I repeated, giving him a sassy smirk and tangling with the idea of getting a ride from Alicia. “Make me say it again,” I taunted, “go ahead.”
Gabriel’s lips curled into a beautiful, wide grin: “What’re you going to do? Smear that blue lipstick over me? Wipe up your drool – knew you were a button pusher the second I saw you.”
Waves of heat, some anger, some arousal, rushed through me. “You’re an asshole,” I clipped, and then tried to move past the beautiful, infuriating man.
“Never said I wasn’t,” he boasted, blocking me once more. His face softened, and it felt like my body would have to move through quicksand just to move, when his hand touched my shoulder. “Look,” he started, “I’m sorry, okay?”
Part of me wasn’t sure how genuine his apology was. My lips pressed tightly together.
“Let me help you,” his tone was actually humble for once.
I chewed on his words for a moment, trying to calm down my pounding heart and my electrified bones. There was a risk associated with this – having to be near such a dangerous, tempting man. Embarrassment and shame clawed at me, and a sense of wounded pride curled against my chest.
A voice in the back of my mind whispered, that fear was the true killer. Fear would kill me every time.
Pushing out a long breath, my nerves flaring one last time, I said with some reluctance: “Alright…but if I don’t like how this goes, I’m bailing.”
I was done being afraid, and maybe, just maybe, Gabriel would free me of these chains.
10
Gabriel
We were cruising through the night, passing by every once in a while, a few cars. Every now and again, I’d feel Madeline grab me tighter around my abdomen. There was something about this damn girl, something that I couldn’t quite shake. She pissed me off with just one look, and she stole my breath with the next.
Maybe Luke was right, maybe I did have too much pride – too caught up in my own bullshit to look past the fact that she struggled with something, that honestly, wasn’t her fault anymore. I’d been a drinker back in the day, and when I was at my lowest – when I was just getting ready to shake with the rage that played me like a fucking instrument…I was this close to ending all the noise.
But the club, the Steel Knights; all my brothers and sisters, especially Luke and the ones that came with us? They saved me. I knew it wasn’t my place to save this girl. That there wouldn’t, and even more so, couldn’t be anything between us.
These fingers of heat scratched at my heart though. With every turn. Every breath that I could feel her take.
Something greater than me was digging right into my bones. Something I couldn’t begin to understand.
I think it was hope that scared me the most. Hope scared me more than what that fucker Rochester ever unleashed on me. The fact that there was this silver lining in it all, that somehow I could escape the cage I’d locked myself in.
Couldn’t ruminate for long when I pulled up to my place; rolled up the concrete driveway, which had a number of cracks from previous tenants. I parked my labor of love and killed the engine.
Behind me, Madeline gave an amused scoff, “You drive like a madman. Why’d you play so safe the first time we met?”
I turned my head, smirking: “You look tough, but I didn’t want to scare you after what you went through.”
Her intense, sapphire blue eyes, glared at me. “I once burned an ex with my cigarette for looking at another girl the wrong way,” her nose did this cute little bend, “for too long, mind you.”
“That don’t make you tough, sweetheart,” I explained as we hopped off my bike, “that makes you crazy.”
Mads preened her hair and simpered her head to the side – for some reason, this simple sweetness came at me like a sledgehammer, knocking a brick from my internal wall. “Yeah, well, I guess life forced me to be a little bit crazy.”
I pushed out a breath and smirked, grabbing her hand. She immediately pulled it away from me, and then I told her, “You can relax. Life makes crazy of us all.”
That won me a smile, and like an infection through my system – found myself mirroring that babe of a girl. This time, her hand found mine. “Nice place,” sarcasm was off the charts with this one, “they pay you to live here?”
I tugged her along and shook my head, “No, but I’d pay someone to staple your mouth shut.” Maybe my gut instinct was right. This was going to be a living, if not beautiful, nightmare. Felt her dainty hand smack at my back and I rumbled out a low little laugh. When we got inside, I locked the door behind us and my eyes settled on her glorious ass. Instantly, I felt this great need tightening in my balls – my cock getting harder by the second. Had to bite my lip as she looked around oblivious, and for good measure, I summoned up the will to look away. “Welcome to hell, Sunshine.”
Madeline looked over her shoulder, “If this is hell, then where are my subjects?”
“I hog tied them in walk-in closet, consider yourself deposed from the throne.”
“Wow,” she said with much exaggeration, “for a thug you sure can study a dictionary.”
I gave her a hard look, and a prickling of anger surged through me. I stepped closer to her, got in her face, and whispered, “I’m not a thug. Your spoiled—“fucking apple-bottom, “princess ass wouldn’t even begin to know ‘thug’.”
I had expected the glimmer of fear and hurt in her eye, but not the angry straightening of her person and pursing of her lips. “Screw you, you’re a terrible judge of character,” there was a particular hurting in her voice. “Look, just show me to my room – before I change my mind.”
“You’re looking at it,” I growled, and then pointed with my head at the couch. “And since things aren’t clear to you yet,” I made predatory steps towards the girl, causing her to retreat for every advance, “you will respect me in my own house. Hang on to every word, because this is your new church.” At this point, we were only a few feet from the green couch.
“Not seeing a man that’s worth my worship.”
Putting my hands on the girl’s shoulders, it was like my whole body was lit with this consuming fire. “Don’t worry,” all I could think was that she was some sort of demon in human flesh. Every part of me yearned to press my lips against her own, but the darkness that soaked my bones wouldn’t let me – the knives that twisted my heart told me pain was the only medication that I needed.
Not something else.
I gave Madeline a sharp, short shove.
She gasped and fell into the couch, looking up at me.
“You’re not worthy enough to follow me, kid.” I witnessed the look of pure shock on her face before walking to my bedroom, and then I called out, “make yourself comfortable, and get some sleep. Going to be a longgg couple of weeks.”
When I plopped down into the comforting embrace of my mattress, I peeled off my clothes lazily and tossed them to the floor – settling into the bed in only my boxer-briefs.
Sleep embraced me.
11
Gabriel – Six Years Ago
The roar of the crowd thundered so loud, one might think that a Pantheon was watching us from above.
