“Spaghetti? Again?” Vinny teased her, knowing she wouldn’t take it well.
“Are you seriously complaining about my cooking? The fuck would you do without me if I wasn’t here? I don’t see any Horsemen showing up at your doorstep with casserole dishes or takeout menus.”
“Woah there, girly,” he said, raising his hands defensively. “I’m just teasing you. Ease up on them reins.” Vinny’s mind raced; he had found his solution.
Gloria looked down at her dish. Pasta was the only thing she had been able to cook. Most her nights were spent at the tavern where she ate bar food served to her straight from the kitchen. If she was on the road or at a practice, she would have Jordan – her employee, roommate, and band member – grab her something quick from a local diner or fast food chain. She had loved living without responsibilities or tasks.
It was how life was supposed to always be for Gloria. She had all the power with none of the obligations. Being here with Vinny was starting to feel like suffocation. She calmed herself down as she turned back to where he was sitting, waiting on her reply, “Sorry. I’m just feeling a li’l stir-crazy. I’m not one to sit around and watch TV, y’know?”
“I getcha. I’m feelin’ a bit cooped up myself. I just want to get in some rides before the weather turns for winter.” He tried to act sincere and downcast.
“Yeah, I’m sure this is worse for you than it is for me. I just keep thinking about all my shows I’m missing.” It was true. Gloria only wanted one thing out of life: to sing. Not being given a stage was slowly eating away at her insides.
“Then why don’t you go out? You don’t gotta stay with me. I’m fine here. Can’t really go nowhere anyway.” He threw off the red blanket draped over his chest to gesture at the cream colored bandages wrapped around his upper waist. A pained look washed over his face as he clenched a side.
“You sure?” Gloria’s mind raced. Vinny was giving her a pass, but she was not entirely sure if this was a legit offer. “I don’t wanna leave you if you plan on doin’ somethin’ dumb...like gettin’ up off of this couch for any reason.”
“I’m not going to go anywhere. I learned my lesson when I tried to get up last time, remember? Plus, there’s nowhere for me to go. No one from the club has called me or stopped by. I don’t have an assignment. Hell, you don’t even need me to do your blackmail bidding. I’m not good for anything, let alone anybody.”
Gloria conceded that he was right. She had his phone next to her at all times in case she needed to make a quick getaway. It was silent from the day she broke into his place to this very moment. Not even a text message or email. It was probably a safe bet that him trying to get back into action was not even going to work if he tried. No one wanted a broken motorcycle club member around. What good was he to them?
“Okay. Then I’m going to go to Jackman’s for a couple hours just to check in on Jordan and pick up some envelopes. I’ll run to the store, too, and pick up a frozen pizza or somethin’ since my pasta-making doesn’t live up to your expectations.” Gloria was only halfway through when she got up to grab her purse and her brown leather coat from the living room floor. She couldn’t move quicker. “I’ll see you when I get back, okay?”
Vinny smiled enthusiastically as he whispered, “Have fun.” He watched her open the door and head downstairs. He waited in place, his hands wrapped around the blanket, as he listened for the sound of her car starting up and pulling out of the apartment complex’s driveway. When he had his confirmation of her departure for good, he slowly pushed off of the couch, the pain of his broken rib ripping through his side.
He took two giant breaths, sucking in as much energy as possible, as he took his first steps forward. Gloria had supported him whenever he walked, and now he was forced to get his legs back to working order. With every painful step, he willed himself to go one more, to walk faster, to move more swiftly. He wasn’t going to get very far fast if he couldn’t even get himself to his bedroom to dress and then down the stairs to where his motorcycle was parked.
But he managed it. His escape plan had worked. Now he just had to figure out how to get back on the motorcycle and to the Horsemen’s headquarters before the meeting could start.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jackman’s Tavern was jumping that night. The parking lot was packed with men and several women scantily dressed women hung out on the tops of cars and leaned against the few rows of black motorcycles. Inside was more of the same. As soon as Gloria opened the swinging black door, the noise of men shouting and women laughing assaulted her.
It’s Tuesday, right? Gloria asked herself. She was only used to the regular crowd of Jackman’s on Tuesday night. Old, silent, and there to just waste their brains away with hard liquor, the familiar faces were scattered amongst a younger crowd. They, too, were there to drink, but they had a heat about them.
And when she walked in, that fire seemed to almost ignite in a blaze. At least twenty young men gazed at her with curiosity. She tried to ignore it. As the singer in this bar, she was used to getting unwanted attention. Mostly, it was from older men, drunks who got too enamored with her when she accidentally sang their favorite songs. In some cases, her attractive appearance had paid off. She had managed to use her sexuality and her ease around men to weasel out information. It worked for Vinny when she slept with him to earn his trust and slip out a bit of identifying information. It worked for others, as well.
But tonight, she was focused on her task. She wasn’t planning on taking on new clients. It would have been too much work, too much effort. She just wanted to go about her regular business of collecting a couple of envelopes of cash from her blackmail clients and check in on a few of her more suspicious customers and head back home. Old business first. She could deal with getting the new when Vinny was healed and she could put herself back in action.
Slipping in her favorite booth at the very back of the bar, she took another look around the room. By her survey, the men who had caught her eye in the beginning were still staring at her now. She couldn’t see why. The bar was full of young, attractive women with the breasts practically hanging out of their shirts and their mouths open and waiting. Yet the men were not buying into them.
In the midst of the group, she caught the eye of the bartender. Casey was one of the few young women Gloria had enjoyed being with. She was always too perky for her own good, but Gloria actually appreciated that kind of optimism. It made Jackman’s actually seem like a place she could call home instead of a spot where she did business and drank.
Casey smiled at her and grabbed a long stemmed bottle of tequila from the top shelf along with three clean shot glasses from behind the bar. She opened the bar door and headed to her. Weaving her way in and out of the men crowding her area, she finally made it to Gloria and placed the shot glasses in front of her.
“What’s goin’ on tonight? Some kind of convention or somethin’? I don’t recognize any of these guys.” Gloria had learned quickly in her years of blackmailing that there was only one person who knew more than her about the lives of the tavern drinkers. And that was the bartender.
“I’m not sure, actually. They showed up yesterday night and apparently haven’t left. Dan said there was a crowd of them waiting for the bar to open at six.” Casey seemed unfazed by it all.
Gloria, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure about the motives of these men. “Are any of them wearin’ colors?” She had lowered her voice to a whisper. Talking about colors, the motorcycle club’s identifying marks, was a total breach of etiquette for someone not affiliated. It could get her killed if she was thought to be too curious for her own good.
Casey concentrated on pouring her shots into the glass before looking back at Gloria in the eye. “Yeah,” she said cautiously. “I think they’re Horsemen.”
The hair on the back of Gloria’s neck prickled. Why in the world would Vinny’s motorcycle cub be basically taking over Jackman’s Tavern? And, more importantly, why were all of the members pres
ent staring her down like snakes in a pit? If she were about to get bitten, she wanted, needed, to know more. Gloria leaned in to catch Casey’s ear. She didn’t want to draw anymore attention, “Do you know why they’re here? I mean, this is usually Devils’ territory, ain’t it?”
“You know better‘n I do that this is. Not a-one of us workin’ here knows why they’re stakin’ claim—or what they plan on doin’. But I’m takin’ the next few days off just in case. Told Dan my ma’s sick. Ain’t ideal, I s’pose, but no way in hell am I gonna be around when the Devils go through with whatever they plan on doin’.”
Gloria patted her on the hand while plastering a fake smile on her face. She hoped it would throw the men still eyeing her off of her scent, “That’s smart, Casey. Whenever motorcycle club members gather in public, nothin’ but trouble is comin’. I may take your advice and take a few more days off.”
Casey nodded as she picked up some discarded napkins on the floor. Wiping down the table one last time, she turned to walk back towards the bar where she was needed more. Gloria checked the time on her phone before taking the first shot. It hit her fast and hard. Almost a week away from the bottle and everything was flying through her like fire in a field. She shot the second down rapidly as she let out an audible “Ahhhh.”
Before she could take the third, Jordan slipped in unannounced in her booth. It wasn’t totally unexpected. Jordan had been Gloria’s employee for a few years now. He was originally a client, but Gloria had shown Jordan something she was unable to give everyone else who crossed her blackmailing path: pity. Instead of ratting him out to his parents, she had taken him under her wings, letting her in on her business. He was paid in a place to live, a roof over his head, and food in his belly. He also got to play lead guitar in her band, which only endeared him to her more.
But this night, Jordan looked different, almost changed. His expression was dark and brooding. The youthful, smooth face had transformed in the week she had seen him to a man holding in something. Gloria couldn’t help but exclaim, “Jordan, what’s wrong with you? You look like you have been through some hell!”
“I need to talk to you, Gloria.” He couldn’t bear to look up at her as he spoke, “I made a decision while you were gone, and I need you to hear me out.”
Gloria swallowed hard as she took the last shot in her mouth. Whatever he was about to lay on her didn’t sound like anything she could handle without a bit of liquid courage. “Lay it on me, Jordan. I’m all ears.”
“I need you to release me.” He said it so quickly, Gloria asked him to repeat it. “Gloria, I wanna give this up. I need to give this up. I’m in too deep for my own good now. I know too much, and I don’t feel safe.” Jordan twiddled his fingers in small circles as he did not dare to look her in her eye. What he was doing, or wanted to do, was just out of the question.
“What about our deal, Jordan?” Gloria shouted. She had moved past disbelief and had started in on pain and resentment. After all, who had been the one there for him from the time he walked into Jackman’s? Who had made sure he was eating well, sleeping safely, and protected from his abusive family? She had done nothing but care for him like a big sister would and he was now betraying her by moving on. She could not let him go just like that.
“I don’t give a flyin’ fuck about the deal anymore. I’m gonna go back home anyways. I got family that’ll take me in, and my uncle Tommy says there’s a job waiting for me with his painting business if I can get home by the end of the month. I need to move on that way. I need to get right, and this is the way I can do it.” Jordan had it all figured out, and he couldn’t help but be a bit boastful of his plan.
“And Casey? What about her?” Gloria could not care less about his relationship with the bartender. It was simply a stall tactic—the only thing in this world she could think of to get him to stick around with her.
Jordan looked toward the bar, following Casey’s move as she poured beer from the tap into a large, frosty mug and pushed it to a bearded man at the end of the stools. The pain in his voice arched as he said, “I’m gonna ask her to come with. I know she prob’ly won’t. I mean, we ain’t even datin’—not officially, anyways. But I’m gonna try. If it’s a no—well, at least I tried.”
Gloria paused. She couldn’t give up so easily, but he looked so determined to go. If he was truly returning to his family, there were no threats she could come up with that would get him to stay, yet still keep him in harm’s way. So, she said the only thing she could think to say, “When?”
“I’m hopin’ to be outta here end o’ th’ week. I wanna leave earlier, but Uncle Tommy bought me a bus ticket, and I can’t ask him to change it, not after he put the money down for it already.” He pulled a white envelope out of his pocket and slid it across from the table. Inside were a handwritten letter and a printed blue and white ticket with the date printed in black, foreboding ink. His bus departed at two in the morning, the same time he would be packing up from working with her on getting the blackmail money.
He continued on, guessing at what was upsetting Gloria now, “I’ll still pick up your envelopes and talk to the clients until I leave. I won’t leave you until I have to.” He reached out his hand to take Gloria’s and peered into her eyes. His soft voice floated over the noise of the bar as he pleaded with her, “Gloria, I think you need to do the same thing. I think you need to get out of here. This con, this job—whatever you want to call it—it ain’t no good no more. You gettin’ involved with Vinny and the Horsemen is playin’ with fire. I feel like it’s going to come burn you soon if you don’t find a way to get out.”
“You son of a bitch—you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gloria could feel herself getting defensive, but Vinny had literally saved her in that parking lot. Jordan was right about the dangerous aspect, but it was a part of his life she was going to have to come to terms with at least for the immediate future.
“Look around. You see this bar? You see those men? They ain’t here to drink some shitty, watered-down beer and to hook up with some drunk skanks. They’re here for you.”
“How could you even know that? They’re in a turf war, Jordan. It has nothing to do with us.” Gloria had to believe that. The alternative was far too horrible to consider.
“I seen the patches. I know who they ride with. And I know you had something to do with Carl goin’ missing. I mean, shit, Gloria, everybody here knows he’s the sumbitch who knifed you.”
“Fuck you, Jordan!” She spat her anger towards him, not caring if anyone around was listening. “I had nothing to do with Carl. I didn’t even know he was riding with an MC. If I hear you’re telling people otherwise, that grave will have your name on it, not mine. You hear me?”
Jordan stood, looking down at her with an expression Gloria was not familiar with—empathy. “I feel sorry for you, Gloria. You’re in way too deep, and you got no idea how to dig yourself out of it. I wanna help you out. I want to make sure you’re safe. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, but if you won’t take my hand, I’m not gonna offer it.”
Gloria had grown cold. She refused to listen to him anymore. He had crossed a line, and her pride was not about to let his pleas make any impact on her tonight. “Get your things out of my place by Saturday night. I expect you to keep working for me until then.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll leave tonight’s envelopes on the table for you.” With one last promise, he left, heading out to the parking lot to take his place.
Gloria watched him walk away with complete wonder. He was right. She knew he was. But running away was not in her blood. She may be wild. She may be a wanderer, a vagabond. Yet, Jackman’s was home and her job was a part of who she was. Starting over again in some other backwoods bar was just not going to be possible, not after she had become so involved with Vinny. Gloria was not going to give up that constancy without a fight.
She stood her ground the rest of the night, almost willing the men to come to her and confront her. If they had an
issue with her like Jordan had suspected, she would give them all the opportunity to show her their dissatisfaction. But no one did. Gloria sat alone besides for the few clients coming and going out of her booth. The men kept their distance.
That is, until she drove off. From her mirrors, she watched as the same men followed her to the parking lot, got on their bikes, and pulled out behind her. They turned when she did. They stopped when she did. They weaved through traffic when she did.
And when she made the decision not to return to Vinny’s apartment and instead return to her own home, she watched in horror as they, too, pulled into the parking lot of her complex. Each turned off their lights and got off of their motorcycle. The men waited in the still silence of the fall night for Gloria to get out of her car.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Everywhere on Vinny’s body seemed to rattle and shake with each movement of his bike. His legs could barely hold on. His arms trembled in their position. His chest heaved and hawed as he sped up and slowed down. Making turns or passing a car forced him to turn his head awkwardly.
Don’t You Dare: A Bad Boy MMA Fighter Romance Page 33
