Jack of Spades_A Bad Boy Biker Romance

by Rana Raynes

  Our better judgement? There's no we in this conversation anymore, not even on that level. I simply can't agree. I want to say something but I don't trust my self-control. I don't want to yell at her or curse or call her names. So I say nothing. I just stare out into the night and its increasingly blurry lights and bite my tongue bloody.

  The silence drags on, a wasteland spreading between us.

  “Don't call me again, okay?” she says. “It will be easier without contact.”

  “All right,” I choke out. What else can I say?

  “I'm sorry,” she whispers and then she's gone.

  I lower my phone, stunned. I had expected an argument, apologies, eventually a tearful reconciliation, some make-up sex afterwards perhaps, but not this. What did just happen? I still have trouble wrapping my head around it. For a moment I don't move. I let myself be engulfed by the night calm and the echoes of neon lights, I inhale the crisp quiet and imagine it freezing the pain inside me. It's not nearly cold enough. But with every breath I take the emotional turmoil settles down a bit more until I feel nothing, only emptiness.

  This isn't the end of the world, I remind myself. It's a break-up with a short-term girlfriend. I'm old enough to handle this. And I've not come here to mope around. Danny is waiting for me inside. There are some things we have to talk about, things more important than a bit of heartache.

  I push myself off the wall and go inside.

  After the cool and quiet of the parking lot the insides of the Ace are stuffy and noisy. Within seconds I'm completely swallowed up by the atmosphere. I want a cool beer, douse myself in loud music and forget about everything.

  I squeeze myself between two guys sitting at the bar to wave Liz over to order a drink.

  As I lean over the bar I notice the guy to my right is pretty overdressed for the location. He's wearing a fancy jacket and a tie with his shirt. In front of him a glass of whiskey, placed on a napkin. It takes me the fraction of a second until I recognize Kat's ex.

  “So you're still in town,” I say, taking out my cigarette pack and tapping it on the countertop while I'm waiting for my beer.

  The fact Mike is here, at the Ace of Spades, means he's not in Kat's bed right now, that's some solace at least. But it also means that he's still here in Grand Oaks, and that doesn't bode well. And he seems to be in the picture about Kat's decision. He's positively gloating.

  “You didn't think you could keep her, did you?”

  His smug grin as he nips at this drink makes me want to smash him head first into the counter, tumbler and all. But of course I don't do it. I don't respond at all. Instead I take a cigarette out of the packet and light it up. Mike's grin vanishes at once.

  “Excuse me, would you–”

  “Look, Mike.” I take a lazy, casual drag off my cigarette. “Don't think for a second you can tell me what to do.”

  I can see he is boiling with anger. Looks like fancy lawyer boy has some fight in him after all. Maybe he isn't just all bark and no bite after all. I would love to find out but I don't think Kat would appreciate if I beat up her ex. And everything points to the conclusion he's still her ex and they haven't reconciled, why else would he be here in the first place, angry instead of smug. I suppose he still think he can win her back though, and just as I'm thinking this he adds with a threatening undertone:

  “You stay away from her, do you understand?”

  “I don't see how that's any of your business, buddy.” I flash my teeth at him. But at that very moment Liz puts my beer down in front of me and I transform my snarl into my most charming smile for her.“Thank you, sweetheart.”

  I tell her how lovely she looks and she blushes a little. I probably shouldn't encourage her crush on me but sometimes I just can't help myself. It somehow feels good right now, to be desired, especially after Kat breaking up, and in front of her asshole ex-boyfriend.

  When I pick up the beer bottle and move to turn around, Mike takes hold of my arm.

  “I'm serious. Stay the fuck away from Kat.”

  “Last time I checked she was her own woman. You've lost your claim on her when you fucked that colleague of yours. So if I were in your place, I would keep my nose out of other people's affairs.” I take a step back to break his grip.

  Mike grinds his teeth. “Small time criminals like you land themselves in jail sooner or later, so you better be careful,” he hisses.

  “Are you threatening me?”

  At this point it's mostly a rhetorical question. It's pretty obvious he is and judging from his expression he doesn't intend to back down. I, on the other hand, as much as I would like to punch him in the fucking face, am reluctant to let myself be provoked like this. There's the legal aspect of things for one, but I'm actually even more concerned about Kat. I could bury all hope of her ever speaking to me again if she knew I'd beat up her ex – and Mike would make sure she knew. She was already everything but pleased about my reaction to the scumbag who groped her the other day. Judging from her behaviour she's convinced I'm violent. Perhaps she's not entirely wrong with that assumption. I might be a bit of a hothead sometimes but I can be a good boy and control myself if I have to.

  So I take a deep breath and think for a second. Even if Mike is threatening me, those threats are probably empty. I have no idea what he could have on me. He's just trying to rile me up so I'll hit him and he can crawl back to Kat and secure her pity. It's the oldest trick in the book.

  “You know what? Nevermind,” I say instead of giving him the black eye or the bloody lip he deserves and taking another pull on my cigarette I walk away before he has the chance to throw the first punch.

  Sometimes it feels great to be the bigger person.

  Just as expected Danny sits at our usual table and stares at the screen of his phone. He looks up for the split second it takes him to say hello, then returns his attention to the phone while I draw up a chair to slump down on.

  I watch him for a good minute before I decide to remind him that this is not a social call. “Leon said you can fill me in on Saturday night?”

  Danny tears his eyes away from his phone and puts it away, but not without one last glance.

  “Still the chick you hooked up with the other night?” I ask, ignoring the slight pang of jealousy.

  He nods.

  “Looks like you've got it bad.”

  His responding grin is pure lovestruck happiness. He looks like an awfully cute puppy and I can't help being glad for him.

  “So Saturday,” I remind him.

  “Yeah,” he says. His expression changes to a frown. “Where the fuck were you?” His eyes are dark, not angry but quizzical.

  I take one last drag of my cigarette and stub it out before I answer.

  “At the police station, bailing out Crystal.”

  Danny rolls his eyes which is totally understandable. He's seen this drama unfold over the years and it's certainly not the first time I had to get Crystal out of trouble. Driving under the influence, shoplifting, unlawful possession of regulated substances, all the usual junkie offences.

  I shrug. “You know how it is. She called me just when I was leaving the Ace. At the time driving out to Johnny's didn't seem too urgent so Leon told me to go get her first. Bring her home, tuck her in, you know, the usual drill. When the news reached me, I couldn't simply run off. How would that have looked? So yeah… I was kinda stuck.”

  Danny nods slowly, thoughtfully as if he's weighing my words.

  “Wouldn't have been that much of a problem if Leon had been there,” he says then.

  “So where was he?”

  “He stopped by Greg's on the way out, to collect some items, apparently got held up by the guys pressuring him to have a drink with them.”

  “So he was late to whatever happened?”

  “Yeah, he only showed up when everything was basically over. Helped patch up Tiny. Kept a cool head and all that. You've talked to him, I guess?”

  “I have. But I wanted to hear a first-hand a
ccount of events.”

  Danny reaches over the table, takes my pack of cigarettes and arches a questioning eyebrow.

  “Go ahead,” I say and wait for him to fumble out a cigarette and light it.

  “You remember the guy you punched?” Danny says, exhaling a lungful of smoke. “Turns out he belongs to the group that kept attacking us over the last weeks.”

  In my head the pieces click into place. Suddenly I remember why he seemed somewhat familiar. He was one of the two guys lurking behind the potato chip shelves when I was shopping with Kat. Fuck.

  Well, that doesn't exactly make me regret that I beat him up.

  “So that guy met up with a couple of friends out at Johnny's to make trouble,” Danny continues. “The thing was that the Devils also wanted to make an appearance. God knows why. So when they showed up one of the dumbasses panicked, drew his gun and... well, you know the Devils, they're not squeamish when it comes to shooting first.”

  I think of all the theories I came up with Leon, about what kind of threat we faced. Looks like we were howling up the wrong tree all along. “And we thought they might be allies…”

  “They probably never were. And even if they had some kind of deal or truce at some point, they definitely don't anymore. So that's something at least.”

  It takes a moment to comprehend the good news in their entirety. This does not only mean we're not fighting a united front of allies or that one of our enemies got neutralized by the other. Under the circumstances it's not too far fetched to assume the whole conflict was a plot to play us off against the Devils and vice versa.

  “So you think the whole thing was a set-up to get us all in one place, then bring in the Devils to take care of us?”

  If that was the plan it backfired epically. Even if we don't pursue any retribution, the Devils certainly won't let them get away with this. So instead of eliminating two enemies in one stroke, the Wolves got themselves between the lines. And we can realistically hope for the Devils to leave us in peace in the future and for them to take care of the Wolves too. Which is the best fucking news we had in quite some time. The sword of Damocles hanging over us is gone. All we've got to worry about now is the DA and charges in relation to the shooting. In comparison that's practically a walk in the park.

  No one's going to die over this.

  I still want Danny to explain the details of what happened, step by step, move by move: who was involved, who shot, who didn't, who got hurt, who got arrested, who's gonna face charges.

  With Danny the evident question to ask is: “Did the cops find anything on you?”

  Usually he is a walking drugstore, especially on weekends. He can get you all sorts of fun substances at a moment's notice and especially at Johnny's there are always people looking for a good time with a little help of some powder or pill.

  “Nah, I've been careful lately. I only had a sample bag for downers and a bit of weed, most of which I gave to Kat before leaving the Ace.”

  “To Kat?” I echo incredulously.

  Danny doesn't seem to get the reason for my puzzled reaction. “She was so agitated after that little argument so she asked me for something to relax a little.”

  “Yes but– you remember we had this talk after what happened with Crystal?” I can't believe we're even having this talk.

  Danny blinks. “How can you compare that? It was just a couple of valiums and a bit of weed.”

  “It started just like that with Crystal.”

  “It wasn't me who gave her the shit but if I remember correctly she started with ecstasy and blow and moved on pretty quickly through the whole catalogue. Plus... how old was she at the time? I don't think you can compare that to Kat.”

  “Maybe not,” I concede, although unconvinced. I know the stuff Danny is pushing and it's not just weed and valium. I spend years blaming myself for Crystal's addiction and I won't let history repeat itself. I don't share Danny's confidence regarding Kat's immunity to the appeal of drugs and I don't want her to get dragged into this scene. Danny might not see it but it seems pretty unlikely she would have come to him for drugs if she hadn't known he was a friend of mine. It's exactly how it started with Crystal. She was hanging out with my friends a lot, partying, having a good time, and I didn't even realize she was slipping into a habit before it was too late.

  “Promise me not to give her anything but weed, okay?”

  Danny doesn't put up any resistance. He just shrugs and says: “Sure, man, if you insist. Only a bit of weed from now on.”

  I lean back in my chair. His promise takes an awful weight off my mind. One less problem to worry about. I can handle the rest.

  “So, back to the topic,” I say. “Were you charged with anything?”

  Chapter 14

  Kat

  After I broke up with Mike I felt mostly relieved. I simply had no strength for anger anymore, or even for fighting for the relationship. When I told him I was leaving him I had already packed my most prized possessions into my car. “I'll get the rest later,” I said.

  The rest as in tons of clothes and shoes and luxury items I never cared about anyway. I had stored them all neatly away into carton boxes and immediately forgot about them the moment the door clicked shut behind me. I remember the sense of relief surging through me after I left the house. I was also hurt and sad and angry but most of all I felt liberated.

  Now with Jay everything is different. We had no history together, there were no arguments, no slow alienation, nothing. We fell in love with a bang and my decision to end it came every bit as sudden. Looking back on the last days things did escalate rather quickly. First the incident at the Ace, then the shock about the shooting, the meeting with Mike and the situation in the parking lot, finally the newscast after I got home. Especially the newscast of course.

  I just can't get it out of my head, it is burnt into my brain – the photo of the man who groped me while I was working, the voice of the anchor announcing he was shot in an armed conflict later that same night and still in critical condition. “The latest shoot-out between two rival motorcycle clubs might cost three lives,” the news anchor said. “Several apparently uninvolved bystanders got caught between the lines late yesterday night in a shooting in front of an infamous strip club near Grand Oaks.”

  Something clicked into place at this point. The conclusion was obvious: He shot him. Jay shot that guy. For a second I was absolutely convinced that was what must have happened. It would have been too much of a coincidence otherwise. I had seen Jay's reaction at the Ace, hadn't I? The transformation had been stunning, like watching a kitten turn predator. I had no doubts he would be capable of shooting someone when in that particular mood.

  I don't have enough doubts about it now.

  There's this lingering suspicion. That's why I can't be with him. There are limits to what you can live with. A guy who hits another guy in the face, that's maybe acceptable if it's an exception and not his usual behaviour, but a guy who goes full on killing machine, that's different.

  I didn't tell him all that of course. I just told him it was over. That we didn't fit each other. That it was my fault, not his. Things you say when you break up. Keeping it civil. It's perhaps a mode of self-protection women subconsciously switch on. Especially when they fear to get hurt by an angry, violent ex.

  At first, when I hung up the phone, I felt numb, empty, and then somewhere deep inside the pain started. I forgot how lovesickness can feel like an open wound, raw, throbbing, how it can become so all-consuming that it's hard to think of anything else. With Mike I was angry and disappointed and also sad of course, but this is just irrational, incomprehensibly suffering. I wish that I could crawl into a cave like an injured animal and wait to die of a broken heart. But I can't and I won't. I've already wasted enough time on heartache this year. It's my own fault that I didn't pay enough attention to what a kind of man Jay is. I shouldn't have opened up so quickly. Now it's only natural that I'm hurting. But it will pass. I'll get over it.
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br />   I just have to remember that it's not as if I need someone to make me whole.

  Why is self-sufficiency so hard?

  What I need is distraction, I decide, so I start with what I wanted to do for months: renovate the spare bedroom on the first floor. Like many rooms in this house it was frozen in some decade long past when I moved her, although maybe not as charmingly as my own room under the roof. It was used as a storage room for too long to give off any vibe of homeliness. We successively cleaned it out over the summer so we could eventually paint it. And that's what I'm going to do.

  Action is without doubt the best remedy in my situation.

  Appropriately the colour Aunt Mabel and I picked out is a nice blue, which adds a metaphorical level to the painting. With having the blues and all that. It's a stupid joke but it helps.

  Working helps to. It's remarkable how satisfying it is to do something with your hands. See the effect you're having on your surroundings, the prettiness of the colour on the wall, the progress as the old room gives way to a new one. I've almost forgotten all about my misery when the door bell rings and just like that Jay pops into my mind again.

  I freeze for a moment, paint brush in hand, and listen. I can hear Aunt Mabel's foot steps as she walks through the hallway to answer the door. I anticipate a male voice, maybe I even hope for it. My heart stumbles, skips a beat, then quickens its pace as if to make up for a lost split second of time.

  But it's a woman's voice – Amber's. And I know exactly why she is here. I called Linda first thing this morning to tell I that I would stop working at the Ace as soon as possible. I also told her that I didn't want to skip out on Amber without giving her the chance to find a replacement first. I'm not an asshole. It's not their fault I broke my rule number one and dated a customer.

  So after the conversation with Linda I texted Amber to put her in the picture too and went to paint the bedroom and forget about all the crap for a while. It worked fine for a couple of hours but now it looks like reality is catching up with me.