by Nicole Fox
Sara was sitting at Penny's kitchen table, sipping her morning coffee, when the doorbell rang.
Penny, who was seated right across from her, didn't even bother to say anything. Instead, she just raised an eyebrow and exchanged a knowing look with her friend. They both knew who was ringing the bell, and they both knew how Sara felt about talking to him. This had become a weird sort of ritual for the two of them.
Sara grabbed her cup and took another sip, slowly blinking her eyes. She'd be damned if she was going to get up.
“Guess I'll be right back,” Penny said, slightly exasperated by the whole situation. Sara knew her friend hadn't signed up for this, and she loved her all the more for dealing with it. Penny's chair squealed over the linoleum as she pushed back from the table and got up to go answer the door.
Sara didn't even watch her go. She couldn't blame Penny for feeling at her wit's end about the situation. She felt the same way. But, she didn't know how to fix it.
Penny opened the door. “Hi Danny,” she said in a singsong voice before it was even all the way open. “How are you today?”
“Hi Penny,” Danny said back in his standard issue biker growl. Sara swore they tested the recruits before they got their patches, just to make sure they were surly-sounding enough. “Sara around?”
“Nope,” Penny replied quickly, automatically. “You just missed her.”
Sara could have recorded Penny's responses from the last few weeks on one recorder, and Danny's on another, then just played back this exact same conversation back over and over. The little trick would have at least saved him the daily trip to come over here. And, of course, it would save Penny the hassle of having to turn him away every time.
“Well, I need to see her,” he said, and paused. “I want to see her. Can you tell her I came by?”
“Sure thing!” Penny said, her voice artificially chipper, especially for this time of day.
“Thanks, Penny.”
“No problem!”
Penny shut the door quietly and came back to the kitchen. “He cares about you,” she said as she sat back down.
“I know.”
“Why don't you just go back to him, then?”
“There's no ‘going back,’” Sara replied as she fidgeted with her coffee cup and spun it in her hands. “We weren't ever official, or serious.”
“Serious enough to have a baby together.”
Sara glared at her friend. “You know what that was about.”
“I know,” Penny relented, clearly calling for peace before an argument started, “I know. But, geez. Sara, I know I was against this guy from the get-go, but . . .”
“But?” Sara asked as she stared down at her hands and fidgeted with them.
“But,” Penny said, emphasizing the word, “I gotta give the guy credit for holding out like this. Not many guys would show up every single day just to be turned away. This is like some Tibetan monastery crap.”
Sara chuckled.
“So, he's some sort of spiritual seeker coming up to the top of the mountain every day?”
“Right,” Penny said, her coffee mug half-way to her lips, “struggling to get to the top, even through blizzards and over glaciers. And you're the grouchy Zen master.”
Sara rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
“Look,” her friend said as she put her coffee back down, “I'm going to level with you. I don't care if you live here for the rest of your life. We can grow up and be spinsters together, and raise this child of yours in a loveless pseudo-lesbian relationship. Dead-bed that shit all the way, only occasionally dragging neighborhood pool-boys into our bed when the sexual frustration becomes too great.”
Sara, still looking down at her hands, smiled at her friend's joke.
“But, you'd be miserable doing that. I'm fine with being alone. I have Mr. Wiggles, and I'm okay with the loveless, sexless life ahead of me. You, dear Sara, are not. And, do you know how I know?”
“How?” Sara asked as she glanced up at her friend.
“You could have put a restraining order on this guy weeks ago. He's showing up at the house, harassing you, calling you, and you haven't seen him or answered the phone in weeks. But, you haven't even thought of calling the cops. Have you?”
Sara sighed. “Yeah, I've thought about it.”
“Fine,” Penny said. “You've thought about it, but probably only for like two seconds. You haven't done anything, though.”
Sara shook her head. “It just doesn't seem right. He's going to be the father of my child. How could I put a restraining order on my child's father? But, you were right back when all this shit started. I just don't think I could handle his lifestyle. It's too much. I can't ever have a family with a man like that. His life, and his home life, are just too different.”
“Different from your family?” Penny asked with a chuckle. “And that's a bad thing?”
“No, it's not that,” Sara said, shaking her head again. “I mean, different from what I wanted. What I still want.”
Penny rolled her eyes. “So, every single thing about every single person has to be perfect, and exactly as you imagined in your little dream-world fantasy? Girl, it's hard work to share a life with someone you love. Even Mr. Wiggles gets on my nerves sometimes.”
“Hey,” Sara said, “I never said I loved him.”
“Oh?” Penny replied with a knowing grin. “Well, I don't think I've ever asked. So, do you?”
“Love him?” Sara asked.
“Well . . .?”
“Well . . .”
“Spit it out, girl!” Penny said, frustrated at the dancing around.
“Yeah,” she said, nodding slowly. She looked up at her friend. “I think I do.”
“Sara, honey,” Penny said, reaching across the table to touch her hand, “life never turns out exactly the way we expect. Do you think I originally wanted to end up with Mr. Wiggles as my life partner? I've always been a dog girl.”
Sara laughed. “But you love Mr. Wiggles.”
“Exactly. But, I never would have known that if I hadn't just lived my life and taken a chance.”
Sara rolled her eyes again. “I can't believe I've sunk so low that I'm taking relationship advice from a crazy prematurely-old cat lady.”
“Prematurely-old cat ladies give the best relationship advice. The kitty cats whisper the answers to all life's questions to us at night. Their sweet purrs are actually genuine words of wisdom.”
“Shut up, Penny,” Sara said, holding back her laughter.
Penny grinned and readjusted her glasses. “So, you going to go find him? Do I get to witness the ending of one of those rom-coms? Or am I stuck with you ‘til my dying day?”
“There'd have to be some comedy first, wouldn't there? Home invasions and abductions don't exactly fit into that kind of film. But, yeah, I'll go find him. Happy now?”
“Yes,” Penny said as her cat, a fat white tom, jumped up into her lap and began purring for attention. “And so is Mr. Wiggles.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sara
Sara spent the next hour or so getting ready, including a shower with a fresh razor up and down her legs. She picked a nice skirt and top, something she felt sexy in, with some risqué underwear. If things went as planned, Danny would appreciate them.
That was, of course, if things went according to plan.
Sara got in her little hatchback and drove out to the Old Crow, first. She steeled herself in the parking lot before going in. Jethro luckily remembered her from her earlier job application, but shook his head at her question about Danny.
“Nope. Ain't seen him today. Check down at the clubhouse. He's been there or at his ma's house most days, lately.”
If Jethro knew anything about what had been going on between her and Danny, his acting was good enough that he'd have been up for an Oscar come January.
“Thanks,” Sara said. “Mind giving me directions out there? It's my first time.”
“Sure,” Jeth
ro said and began drawing out a small, stripped down map on a cocktail napkin for her.
She took the makeshift directions from him, then walked back out to her car. She got in on the driver's side, took another deep breath, and started the old beater up. It surged to life, then sputtered but kept running.
Her nerves were wrecked. She hadn't realized how nervous she was until she'd actually walked into the bar to find Danny. Now, all her worries about how he would react, whether they could fix their problems, and if he would accept her back into his life, began to rear their ugly head. She really hoped she hadn't screwed everything up.
She put the car in drive, pulled it around, and hopped back on the highway. She glanced down at her napkin-map and headed for the Fallen Knights clubhouse.
Twice, Sara almost pulled the car over and just turned around. Twice, though, she kept her foot on the gas pedal and kept going. This was the right thing to do, she reminded herself, the right thing for her future child, and the right thing for her. Danny was a good man, if a little rough around the edges. She loved him; she cared about him.
And, God, those abs, and those arms. And that smile of his.
She realized, too, how much she missed his bike. Driving in the car just wasn't the same. A car was like an extension of your living room, a little protected box with a radio and an air-conditioner, that kept you separated from the world.
On Danny's bike, she had felt connected to everything. Every little bump in the road, the tang of the exhaust that smelled like tar, the sting of the wind on her face. Driving in a car kept you from the world, made you separate and apart.
She braked as, up ahead, she saw the turn-off Jethro had marked on the map. She pulled over onto the narrow, paved back road and began searching for the clubhouse. According to the map, it was nestled a ways back from the main road.
Less than a quarter-mile down the road, she saw the array of wood and steel buildings with the parking lot full of motorcycles. She pulled in and parked next to a row of hogs, her little rundown hatchback looking even more out of place.
She saw Danny's bike parked near the front door, seemingly in a place of honor.
Good, he was here. She put both hands on the steering wheel and took a deep breath as reality began to descend on her.
Fuck, he was here. Her stomach twisted into knots. Not even two hours ago, Penny had sent the poor guy away from her door. Sara had been avoiding him, ignoring him, for weeks. What was she thinking? What was she even doing here? She had no right.
She took another deep breath. It was going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay. What was the worst that could happen, anyways? That he sent her away? Clearly he still wanted her around.
She got out of the car and headed up to the clubhouse's front entrance. It was a simple set of double metal doors, the kind you saw on buildings like this. To the right of the door was a buzzer for the doorbell.
She thought about just barging in, but figured that might be too presumptuous. She wasn't his ol' lady, and even then she didn't know if that would have been allowed. After all, she wasn't, and never would be, part of the MC. Women weren't eligible.
So, instead, Sara took another deep breath and pressed the doorbell. Chimes rang somewhere deep inside the building, but nothing, and no one, seemed to stir within.
A couple minutes passed. She kept waiting, hoping that Thorn or Karl would be the ones to answer. They were the only two she'd met, other than that one time on the back of Danny's bike after their first time together. She shuffled her feet, hoping they would hurry up and get to the door, so she could just hurry up and see Danny. They rode fast everywhere. They should walk just as fast, too.
Finally, after what seemed like ages, footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. A moment later, a pair of burly bikers pushed the door open. She glanced over their faces, but didn't recognize either of them.
She swallowed dryly as she looked up into their big, masculine faces.
“What?” one of them, a big guy with a shaved head, barked.
“Who the fuck are you?” sneered the other, a shorter, but nearly as thick, man with a long, shaggy mustache.
“I-I-I'm,” she stuttered out, her dry tongue twisting around her own words, “looking for Danny Reynolds.”
“Don't know him, doll-face,” said Baldy. He turned to his buddy. “I bet she's selling magazine subscriptions or some shit.”
Didn't know Danny? What the hell was going on? This had to be the right place. She'd followed Jethro's instructions to the T. She was sure she hadn't shown up at some other club by accident. There couldn't be that many active clubs in the county!
“Magazine subscriptions?” Mustache asked him. “Like them girly mags?”
“Yeah,” Baldy said, punching his buddy in the shoulder. “I got the internet, though. Don't think I need 'em anymore.”
“Not unless she's in 'em,” said Mustache, a big grin spreading on his face as he nodded at Sara. “So, tell us, you at the center of your magazines, honey?”
“I, um, I'm not selling any magazines. I'm looking for Danny. Or Thorn? Can I talk to Thorn?”
Baldy looked her up and down as she fumbled for her words. “Nah, she ain't in them magazines of hers. Bet she's a cop. She's coming in here looking for some shit on us, I reckon.”
Well this had taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way.
She took a step back. “Me?” she asked, genuine surprise entering her voice, making her words squeak. “You think I'm a cop?”
Oh God, she hoped they weren't going to strip her and start looking for a wire. She didn't think she could handle something like that. Not today of all days.
Both men dead on locked their eyes on her.
She gulped.
And, then, just as Sara was certain she was going to be frisked and patted down for hidden clandestine electronics, Baldy and Mustache both burst into raucous, belly-shaking laughter.
Baldy leaned back and shouted into the clubhouse. “Danny-boy! Your ol' lady's here!”
“Sorry, just having a little fun, darlin'.” Mustache threw the door wide for her, saying, “Of course we know who you are, Sara. Come on in.”
Not sure if she should smile at their jokes, or be mortified, Sara shuffled between them and into the clubhouse.
“Danny!” Baldy shouted again. “Danny, come on!”
“I'm coming, Slick. I'm coming,” Danny said as he came out of the back of the clubhouse.
He stopped in his tracks when his eyes fell on her. The corner of his lip tilted up in a half-smile, like he couldn't show it all in front of his buddies.
She had to keep her jaw from hitting the floor. Her memories of him hadn't done the reality justice. His grizzled jaw line, his sculpted arms, how tightly his shirt hugged his body, the way he stalked like a wolf as he moved.
Their eyes locked, and she felt herself fall into the deep, still waters of that icy blue gaze of his.
She'd almost forgotten his eyes, and how she felt when she looked into them. How they seemed to hypnotize her and eliminate distractions from the rest of the world.
Already, she could feel the need building in her. The need for his arms to be around her, to hold her tight. For his hands and lips to be on her body, for him to be inside her.
“Hi,” Danny said, coming a couple steps closer, seemingly unsure of himself, or like he was approaching something he knew to be a mirage.
“Hey,” Sara said, taking a few of her own. She didn't know what to say. She'd thought about what words she'd planned to use on the drive over, had considered what she would tell him when she found him. But all that planning was out the window, now. “I . . . I missed you,” she muttered.
Silence filled the air. Even Mustache and Baldy had grown quiet as they watched the reunion. But, only for a moment. They were bikers, of course.
“Young love.” Mustache said as he reached up and wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “So sweet.”
Danny turned his glare to the tw
o men. “Why the fuck don't y'all clear out of here for a few minutes? Go down and have a couple beers on my tab, or work on your bikes or some shit?”
“You're no fun,” Baldy said. “I was hoping for a Hallmark moment. I popped popcorn and everything.”
“Fuck off,” Danny said as he came over and wrapped an arm around her waist.
“Whatever,” Mustache said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “We'll just take ourselves elsewhere, then. Somewhere where we're appreciated.”
Both men disappeared through the front entrance as Danny lead Sara deeper into the clubhouse, and back into what looked like a meeting room with a giant Fallen Knights banner hanging from the wall. Not saying a word, he shut the door behind them and went and took a seat at the edge of the center table.
