Charge to My Line

by Lani Lynn Vale

  I giggled. Fucking giggled. I was such a loser.

  “You bet your big fat cock I am,” I stated firmly.

  Chapter 11

  Do I have my own bike? Why would I need one when I have my own biker?

  -Viddy to Tru

  Tru

  I felt different.

  Like I’d become an adult.

  Yes, I’d been an adult for going on seven years now, but now I felt official. Like losing that little piece of skin made me something more.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?” Grayson asked for the fifth time.

  I sighed, patting his thigh.

  We were on his motorcycle riding to his shop.

  He bought the building on the outskirts of Benton a little over a year ago, he’d said, and that’s where he worked on his cars. And other’s cars.

  “Grayson,” I yelled over the idling motor. “I told you it was all right two turns ago.”

  “Are you ever going to call me Torren?” He asked with a look over his shoulder.

  Taking in my shaking head, he turned around and continued through traffic.

  Once we were stopped again, he responded to my statement. “Most girls wouldn’t want to go to a shop where there’s grease and dirt all over the place.”

  I snorted. “You do know that you have yourself a tom girl…right?”

  “What’s a tom girl?” He asked cheekily.

  “One that doesn’t wear heels, and has no problem getting dirty,” I retorted.

  With that he gave my leg a squeeze, and turned twice more before pulling in front of a building set fairly far off the road.

  There wasn’t a sign. There wasn’t anything identifying at all.

  Just a moderate sized white building made out of tin, with a big black door large enough for a vehicle to fit through.

  He pulled the bike around back and shut off the vibrating machine.

  The silence was nearly deafening as I started to remove my helmet and look around.

  The back was much the same as the front except for a few pieces of furniture here and there.

  A large metal barrel was set out a little further with large pieces of wood hanging out the top.

  “Having a bonfire soon?” I asked as I saw the large pile of wood on the ground next to the pile.

  “Not really, no. I just have some trash I need to burn, but when I’m here I don’t have time to keep an eye on it like I should.”

  “How long will we be here?” I asked, thinking that that a fire would be nice right about now.

  I was freezing, even while wearing my jeans, one of my own sweatshirts, and one of Grayson’s.

  He shrugged. “Couple hours, if you don’t mind. I just have a transmission I need to break down and get into the steamer. Once that’s done, I’ll wash up and get out of here. Then we can go to the party. Sound good?”

  Grayson had asked me if I would be willing to go to a party with the club later in the day, and I’d agreed. Incredibly curious to find out more about The Dixie Wardens. They’d been in our town for a few years now.

  In fact, they’d come in at a pivotal time in my life.

  I remember the first time I’d crossed paths with one of The Dixie Wardens.

  When I was nineteen, I’d been walking down Main Street to Utterly Delicious, the local ice cream joint, when I saw an older man.

  He’d had a really long white beard with long white hair covering his head; he’d reminded me of Santa Claus, as did his ginormous belly.

  But that was where the similarities to Santa ended.

  He’d been wearing black jeans with a chain, black boots, a black shirt, and a leather vest with ‘Dixie Wardens’ and ‘Benton Chapter’ on the back. There was a woman on the back that resembled a creepy skeleton wraith, and I’d been enamored ever since.

  There’d been numerous times that I’d seen the same man after that, and even more when I’d seen others in the club.

  What I hadn’t seen was Grayson.

  Which was probably a good thing, because I could see him leading me down the path of destruction with him.

  He’d told me all about his youth. How bad he was. How he had a chip on his shoulder the size of Kentucky.

  And I would’ve gone down with him, because if he was anything like he was now, I’d have been sunk.

  This morning had been pivotal for me. I didn’t know how he felt, but I was totally and completely his. And likely, I always would be.

  I nodded. “If you want to get this started for me, I’ll keep an eye on it. Make sure it doesn’t get out of control.”

  ***

  Torren

  I washed my hands in the vat of Solvent, scraping the grime of the last two hours off my hands as I watched Tru pick up the last piece of wood and throw it into the barrel.

  Sparks flew causing her to squeal and jump back in surprise.

  Of course, she’d known it would do it. She’d done it five times now. And each time it was funnier than the last.

  She was wearing a pair of faded jeans that had a hole above her right ass cheek, and it was driving me wild. I could see skin peeping through the hole, which meant she was either wearing a thong or, even worse, nothing.

  Her boots were slip-ons with hot pink tops that you couldn’t see unless she took a large step that brought the hem of her pants up slightly.

  Her hair, which had been flowing free before, was now in a rubber band that I’d provided her.

  Although she’d fought me on it, I hadn’t caved. Mostly because I didn’t think she’d look good with charred hair.

  She’d relented, but hadn’t stopped letting me know that she resented me for it.

  Something about meeting people today and wanting to look good…or some shit.

  Whatever her reasoning, I didn’t want her to get hurt, and free flowing hair when you were burning was a no-no.

  I’d just picked up a red rag and started wiping down my tools when a dark figure rounded the side of the building.

  I dropped the tools in my hand back to the dirty table and made my way outside just as Colby approached Tru from behind.

  “Can I help you?” I asked sharply, startling both Tru and Colby.

  Colby whirled, as did Tru.

  Colby was pissed, where Tru was scared.

  She hadn’t realized that there was anybody behind her.

  The motor of my air compressor had been running as was the steamer that was cleaning the parts to the transmission I’d just broken down. Pairing that with the crackling of the fire, and it made it generally impossible to hear anything out here.

  After ascertaining she was okay, only rattled, I turned my attention back to Colby.

  “What are you doing back here? This is private property,” I said coldly.

  “Saw smoke. Worried there was something on fire,” he answered quickly.

  “Normally, you’d check with the front door…ya’ know?” I replied coolly.

  “I’m going to have to give you a ticket for this, you know,” Colby said, gesturing to the fire behind him.

  I blinked. “What are you talking about? You can’t give tickets for burning outside the city limits.”

  Colby looked surprised that I’d called him on the fact that he’d overstepped his bounds, but I wasn’t going to bend over and take his shit. I wasn’t his bitch, and I damn sure wasn’t someone he could pull his cop attitude on. I was a hothead when I was younger, and still was, only I controlled it better. If he wanted to deal it out, I’d dish it right back at him.

  Which brought up the next question. Why was he out of the city limits, anyway?

  Was he here because of us? He didn’t just happen by my place of business. He had to take three back roads out of town to get to it.

  “I was called in because your neighbors called the Sherriff, but they were all busy,” he hesitated.

  “Well,” I said, giving him that out. “How about you just call the Sherriff’s Department and tell them to come out when they can? You have
no jurisdiction. Not to mention that there’s not a burn ban, and there’s no reason I can’t burn - other than you just don’t like it.”

  I tried not to spit the words at him, but it was hard. The guy was really getting on my fucking nerves.

  Making up excuses to come out here. He probably had just been sitting out there when he saw the smoke, what little of it there was, coming from the back, giving him just the excuse he needed.

  What a dick.

  “That’s not possible. Now that I’m back here, I see that there’s not a water source…” Colby tried, but I wasn’t having that.

  “There’s a water source on the other side of the barrel. Not to mention a fire extinguisher right there,” I said pointing towards the back wall where I’d moved the extinguisher, which I’d shown Tru how to use. “Now, I’d like you to leave unless you’re arresting me, for which I’d like to request my lawyer.”

  Colby looked like I’d force fed him a lemon.

  I wasn’t some ignorant civilian he was pulling this crap on. I knew the laws, especially those which pertained to fires. I was a goddamn firefighter, after all.

  Colby turned and pinned Tru with a glare before he walked off. His hand on the butt of his gun the entire way.

  I followed him, making sure he actually left.

  Which he did, for the most part.

  My suspicions were confirmed when he went to his personal car across the street and dropped down into it, looking over his shoulder at the building as he went.

  Once settled, he sat there while he placed a phone call, gave one last look at the building, and left.

  I felt Tru’s stare as soon as I rounded the corner of the building.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered once I was close enough to hear her.

  I took her into my arms. “The guy’s a dick. Not like you have any control of that. He shouldn’t be a police officer, though. He’s probably done a lot worse to other people that didn’t know the law like I do.”

  She nodded. “Still. I feel like it’s my fault he’s focused in on you. I’ve just been ignoring him, but since you came along, he seems to have gotten a lot worse.”

  That wasn’t surprising.

  The man had a hard-on for Tru.

  He’d probably been able to ignore the fact that she’d rejected him when she wasn’t seeing anybody, but the moment I came into the picture, he wasn’t able to ignore it any longer.

  Chapter 12

  Truckies don’t need to know how to handle a hose. They let their women take care of their hoses at home.

  -T-shirt.

  Torren

  “What do you make?” The man Molly was on a date with, asked.

  I blinked, knowing that if I spoke aloud, my mouth just might get away from me.

  Tru had no such compunction.

  She told him exactly what I’d been feeling every single time somebody asked me that over the course of my career.

  “Why do you care what he makes? Obviously, though, it’s not enough. He’s the one who’ll hold your mother’s hand while his friends cut her out of her car. He’s the one that gets up in the middle of the night and risks his life responding to an emergency call. He’s the one who does life-saving CPR on your best friend while you look on in shock. Whatever he makes, is not fucking enough. It’ll never be enough. Because what he gives you is his time. His heart. His love. And in some truly awful instances, his life. All so you can have yours. Something that he doesn’t have to give, but does so anyway of his own free will,” Tru seethed.

  Tru was also drunk. As a skunk.

  She’d been having fun with all the ladies at the party, and this was the first time I’d managed to get her away from them all night.

  “So she wears the pants in your relationship?” Douche Canoe asked, slinging his arm around Molly possessively.

  What on earth was Molly thinking bringing some Wall street-type to a Warden’s party?

  Sure, we tried not to get too rowdy since we were all, in some capacity, part of the civil services, but bringing someone that was so obviously out of place here was just plain stupid.

  And Cleo, for his part, knew it. Cleo’s eyes narrowed on the interloper, and was probably about two seconds away from shoving his fist into the man’s throat.

  He was wearing a shirt that said he handed out throat punches, too. So wouldn’t it be ironic if he actually did it?

  Tru shot me a smirk, just before I replied with, “We prefer it when neither one of us is wearing pants.”

  Rue, who’d been carrying on with Tru, her replacement best friend whose name rhymed with hers (Yes, I’d heard that all night, too) burst out laughing. “Oh God, that’s pretty funny right there.”

  “What’s funny?” Baylee asked loudly, most likely well on her way to being drunk, too.

  Sebastian reached out and encircled his arm around Baylee’s neck, pulling her into his chest. “Tru was just telling us about how she and Torren don’t wear pants when they’re together.”

  Baylee turned to Tru. “You know, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d said Torren didn’t wear shirts when you were together, because that’s the only way I ever see him. The no pants thing is new, though.”

  “We’re one of a kind. I don’t like wearing pants, and he doesn’t like wearing a shirt. We’re like two peas in a casserole,” Tru announced just as loudly.

  “Jesus, you sure know how to pick them, don’t you, Tore?” Molly said snidely.

  I quite liked that Tru knew how to let loose. It was nice to have someone not care about what other people thought of her.

  “I really do. She’s dynamite in bed,” I replied distractedly.

  Molly growled. Fucking growled.

  I looked at her in surprise.

  Cleo was surprised as well. “What’s your problem? Are you sick?”

  “Cops are here!” Dixie boomed from the front door.

  Everyone looked around at each other.

  To be honest, half the room was off duty cops, while the other half was off duty firefighters. Others were active military. What the fuck would the cops be called on us for? We weren’t doing anything wrong.

  It didn’t surprise me when Silas crossed the room and opened the locked door to Halligans and Handcuffs.

  And it really didn’t surprise me when none other than Officer Colby was at the damn door.

  “Mother fucker,” I growled underneath my breath, pulling in Tru until she had her back against my front.

  “I need to pee,” she announced quickly.

  Oh, and loudly.

  “I’ll show you where it’s at,” Baylee tried, but Sebastian stopped her with a hand on her belly.

  “Don’t move. Something’s not right. Torren will take her,” Sebastian said softly to his wife.

  I took that as my cue, guiding Tru across the room and into the back hallway where the private offices were.

  Opening the door, I quickly turned on the light and shut the door behind us, locking it for added measure.

  “Bathroom’s through there,” I said, pointing to the closed door.

  She went, and I took the time to pick up the phone on the office desk to call some backup.

  “Hello?” Loki answered tightly.

  “Hey man,” I said looking towards the bathroom when I heard a loud thump, followed by a dainty curse. “We’ve got some fun going on here with the cops. I’m sad that you couldn’t make it.”

  “Goddamn Prescott. I told the chief he was up to something when he went hightailing it out of here with a noise complaint like his balls were being tugged,” Loki grumbled.

  His statement was followed by him talking to someone, the Chief I assumed. All I could make out was the occasional ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ and ‘dumbass.’ I didn’t need to know who they were talking about, though.

  My fingers started rolling the cord of the phone while I listened to the two men discuss something, as well as listen to Tru who was busy singing ‘I’m Too Sexy For My Shirt.’


  I was very near busting a gut when Loki came back on the line. “Hey, the chief’s on his way over. He says to cooperate ‘till he gets there, and he’ll take care of Prescott when he does. Were y’all being loud? Where’s the noise complaint coming from?”

  I shook my head, perplexed. That’d been why we’d chosen to build the bar where we had. It was about two miles down from my shop, just inside the city limits. There were no homes, nor businesses, in the area. Who would’ve called a noise complaint on us was beyond me. Not that we were being noisy, either.

  In fact, we hadn’t had any music on all night, so the only ‘noise’ that was happening was by conversations, and none of those had been loud. Which only left one option. Colby Prescott.

  “Negative,” I said.

  “Trance’s in the area with Kosher. He’ll be there before us,” Loki said and hung up, leaving me to listen to the final chorus of Tru’s song.

  “Hey,” I called out. “You’re all right, right?”

  She giggled. “Yeah. But…I think I may need a life alert.”

  I scrunched my eyebrows together in confusion. “Why?”

  “Because I’ve fallen and I can’t get up,” she giggled again.

  I ran my hand down my face in weariness. With the late night we had, followed by the very early…very satisfying morning, and then the long afternoon and night, I was beyond exhausted. All this, on top of working the night before.

  Sighing in exhaustion, I walked to the door only to realize she’d locked it.

  “Tru,” I called through the door. “Can you reach the lock?”

  I was answered with the sound of her heaving, and I could only hope that she’d made it to the toilet. Dixie probably wouldn’t like the fact that his bathroom had vomit all over it.

  Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out my wallet and grabbed my library card I hadn’t used in years, then stuck it between the lock and the doorjamb, popping it open with ease.

  I made a mental note to let Dixie know how easy it was to get open, then dropped down to one knee behind Tru who had, indeed, made it to the toilet before throwing up an insane amount of alcohol.

  “Oh, my God,” she moaned. “I swear to God, I don’t usually drink so much. It was only because Dixie bet I wouldn’t do it. In fact, this is the first time I’ve ever been drunk.”