Wild

by Laramie Briscoe

  I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing.

  “You need help?” The one on the left asks as he takes off his helmet, gloves and swings his leg over the bike.

  “I think I threw a rod, blew a motor or something,” I answer, swallowing roughly against the fear in my throat.

  “Had the bike long?” He walks over and I get a good look at him. He has what most would call movie-star good looks, sandy blonde hair, a little long, and an easy smile.

  “About a year, I bought it used, and I’m not sure how well it was taken care of before I got it.”

  “Always gotta take care of your bike, man.”

  “I was more interested in leaving the past behind,” I admit without meaning to. Maybe it needed to be said out loud for me to believe it.

  The guy looks behind him at the other guy. “Then you’ve come to the right place. Welcome to Bowling Green, I’m Jagger,” he points to himself and then behind him. “That’s Layne. We work at a repair shop. We’ll get this fixed right up for you.”

  I’m struggling. Is this an answer to my thoughts earlier, or just something that’s going to prolong the inevitable? Either way I’m fucked. “I have no money,” I inhale deeply. “No family, no place to go, no one to ask for it.”

  “Luckily for you,” Layne takes his sunglasses off, leveling me with a stare. “We’re in the business of helping people. We’ll get this bike taken care of for you, and you can pay us back, in payments if you need to.”

  That’s all great, but where the fuck am I gonna stay?

  The two of them look at each other, and I realize I’ve said that out loud. Shit. “No disrespect meant.”

  “None taken. Our club owns some rental property,” Layne pulls his cell out. “And there’s this one dude we rent to. We like to keep tabs on him since he’s always late as fuck with his rent. He has an extra room, and he owes us a favor. If you can stand the smell of weed, Skunk would be more than happy to have you.”

  With no options and nothing but the open road looking me in the face, I make a snap decision. I’ll stay here, pay off my bike repairs, and see what the fuck the next few months have for me. Anything has to be better than what I’ve come from.

  “Appreciate it,” I hold out my hand to the both of them.

  Jagger grins. “It’s kinda what we do. Help the ones who can’t help themselves.”

  If he only knew how fucking true those words were.

  Two

  Addie

  Mid-January

  “You sure you don’t want to come hang out with me and Remy?” Tatum asks as she stands poised at the mirror, ready to put color onto her bare lips.

  Sighing, I get up from her bed. “No, trust me, I don’t wanna be around the two of you. Feeling like a third wheel? Not my idea of a good time. Doesn’t mean I don’t love you, though.” I walk over and reach out, giving her a hug.

  “To me you’re not a third wheel.” She pouts, the red color she’s applied making the motion appear exaggerated. “You’ve always been my ride or die.”

  Hearing those words almost brings tears to my eyes, because the loneliness I’ve been feeling lately doesn’t relent. But that’s something I haven’t shared with anyone. Even when I’m at my parents’. The stigma of being adopted, not belonging, has been weighing heavily on me the last few months. I know I should be able to talk to Tate or my dad about it. Tyler Blackfoot would no doubt spit some wisdom, but something keeps holding me back from sharing. Instead, I pretend to be the same person I’ve always been. “Same, Tate, same. Thanks for the invite, but I’m gonna see what I can get into tonight.”

  She sets the tube of lip color down, turning to me, sighing deeply like the motherly person she’s become since her and Remy became serious. “Addie, just do me a favor.”

  “What’s that?” My dark eyes meet hers, a smirk playing on the edge of my mouth. I know what she’s about to ask, and I know I’m about to lie to her.

  “Don’t go to Mayhem,” she mentions a new bar that’s opened in town. A place where both of our dads and the rest of Heaven Hill have told us not to go. Tate, of course isn’t, because she spends all her free time with Remy. But me? What else have I got to do?

  “Don’t worry. I’m just gonna go over some notes from the class I’m taking.” I point to my laptop on our dining room table as we leave Tate’s bedroom. “I’ll probably be asleep by midnight. Should I expect you back tonight? Ya know, so you don’t scare the shit outta me coming in?”

  She laughs. “One thing I have learned is never sneak up on a Blackfoot. But no, I’m gonna stay with Rem tonight. Will you be good here by yourself?”

  Annoyance flashes on my face, I feel it, but cover it up quickly. “Aren’t I always? See you at CRISIS tomorrow. Don’t do anything with Remy I wouldn’t do.”

  Tatum rolls her eyes before she grabs an overnight bag. “See ya!”

  Fifteen minutes later I’m dressed, makeup done, and I’m headed somewhere I shouldn’t go. But when you feel as tumultuous as I do? Mayhem is what feels like home.

  Wild

  There’s a huge mass of bodies clogging up the empty space used as a dance floor. Dance floor. That’s kinda funny. The reality of the situation is quite different. It’s used as a place to make drug deals, for single twenty-somethings to find a hook-up for the night, for depressed thirty-something’s married to their high school sweethearts to find the one to help them get their freak on, and for anyone with a need of any kind to find whatever relief there is.

  Bowling Green hadn’t been the spot I’d planned to stop when I started North from Mississippi. I wasn’t sure exactly where my stopping spot was going to be. I just knew I’d know it when I saw it. Best laid plans and all of that. Luckily for me, the universe knew better than I did.

  Jagger and Layne have turned out to be super cool guys who are now allowing me to pay off the debt I owe in payments. Fuck if I’d had any kind of forethought. When I’d left Mississippi, it had been with the clothes on my back and what I could fit in a backpack. The one thing I didn’t have? Cold, hard cash.

  Which brings me back to the mass of bodies crammed into this hole-in-the-wall bar tonight. The one place that was hiring and didn’t give a shit about my credentials? A new bar called Mayhem, where I do a little of crowd control and make fuckin’ amazing tips behind the bar from women who like to flirt.

  And on any given night the bar lived up to its namesake.

  “Keep alive tonight, my man,” the other bartender/bouncer and my new roommate, Skunk, tells me as I take up residence with him, running my gaze along the packed house. When I first met him, I thought Jagger and Layne were exaggerating the smell of this guy, and the nickname wasn’t true. The fuck did I know? He reeks of weed day and night. He smokes it day and night too. He’s a good guy, but goddamn I don’t know how he makes it through life. It’s a way of life for him. All day. Every day. How this guy functions is beyond me, but he does, and he always knows what the fuck is going on. “One of the Heaven Hill Princesses just showed up, knowing goddamn good and well she shouldn’t be here.”

  “Heaven Hill Princesses?” This is one term I haven’t heard yet.

  “Those guys who fixed your bike – they don’t just own a mechanic shop. You know they’re the local MC, and well respected around town. That girl,” he points to a hot piece of ass that just walked in, “is the Vice President’s daughter.”

  “Nice.” I look her up and down.

  “No.” Skunk grabs me by the shoulders. “Not nice. Tyler Blackfoot, her dad, is a legend around these parts. Don’t even think about it.”

  “Well obviously she’s old enough to do what she wants if she’s in here,” I

  point out the obvious.

  “Not necessarily.” He shakes his head, a smile on his face that looks like a warning. Too bad I’ve never been one to take warnings seriously. “This girl, she’s trouble with a capital T. She’s searching for something, I don’t know what, but she’s not gonna stop until she finds
it.”

  “Nothing wrong with that.”

  He glances at me, clasping me on the shoulder. “Dude, you’ve got so much to learn about this town. Trust me when I say you don’t wanna get on the wrong side of Tyler Blackfoot, and trust me again when I say that little firecracker will burn you. The spark she throws off will torch the fuck outta you.”

  “Getting burnt is part of the appeal.” I watch as she walks across the dance floor. “The hotter it is, the harder it is to hang onto. When you can grasp it in your hands? That feeling is worth a million bucks.”

  Skunk laughs. “You fuck around with Addalynn Blackfoot and you’re gonna feel it, in more ways than one. It’s your funeral, dude, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Got it.” I nod, but in reality, I can’t tear my eyes away as she makes a lap around the room. While pretending to wipe the glasses, I catalog every single thing I can tell about her from where I stand.

  She’s on the shorter side; if she were standing next to me, she’d probably come up to my collarbone. Her hair is this weird mix of dark and light. Almost like she’s probably dyed it blonde once or twice to fit in, but her natural color is as dark as the aura surrounding her.

  Most people give her space as she moves around the periphery, but some guys do chance it. They approach her, appear to spit some lines, and then they’re turned down hard judging by the looks on their faces. When she finally makes her way over to the bar, I’m dying to know the game she’s playing. What’s her angle? What gets her off about turning these guys down?

  “What can I get you?”

  Her dark eyes, which had been gazing up and down the bar, turn to me. They harbor secrets. Mine do too, which is why I recognize it so openly in hers.

  “Crown and Coke,” she answers, leaning against the scuffed wood of the bar top. She’s just tall enough so that her head and part of her chest is exposed. Tall, she isn’t.

  My eyes stray down to where her t-shirt gaps, exposing the black lace edges of a bra. Normally, I might not be so blatantly open about ogling a woman’s chest I don’t know, but the way she arches her back tells me she wants me to look. “You sure about that, Shortcake? There’s a potential for you to get fucked up real fast if I mess up my ratio. A girl like you in a place like this? Sure you don’t want a beer?”

  Her gaze never leaves my face. Those eyes of hers come close to spitting fire as I pick up another glass, wiping it out, doing my best to appear like this girl hasn’t piqued my interest just by walking in.

  “Maybe you don’t know who I am.”

  “Can’t say that I do. I’m new in town.” I shrug, feeling the weight of the air between us. It’s charged with some sort of electricity, like a fucking summer storm that’s ready to break open and rain down on anyone in its path.

  “My name is Addie Blackfoot, and I want a Crown and Coke. If you can’t give me that simple order, then I’ll just go somewhere else.”

  The red color on her lips shines in the dim light of the bar. Not the muted shit most girls wear that make their lips look like they’ve spent ten years in the Sahara. No, her lips glisten like she’s spent all night licking them, getting ready for someone to claim them. Immediately I know she’s not bluffing. She’ll go somewhere else. Somewhere I won’t be able to keep an eye on her, where I won’t be able to watch as she floats around the room.

  The thought is heavy in my gut. I want to see her, make sure she’s okay. Something in the way her shoulders shake let me know she’s not as self-assured as she wants me to believe she is. It’s that little chink in her armor, that little show of vulnerability that has me reaching behind me to grab the Crown.

  “No sense in you going somewhere else, Shortcake, when I got everything you need right here.”

  “You think you’re clever?” She shakes her head, pursing her lips. “Like you’re the first person to ever make a crack about my height.”

  I grab the soda gun and dilute the alcohol with the Coke she’s requested, setting it down in front of her. “You think you’re the first person to come in here with a bad bitch attitude hiding the fact she’s hurting? Try again and be fuckin’ careful. This isn’t the place for you.”

  She snatches the glass off the bar. “The only person who tells me what to do is my dad, and he drinks from a skull mug, so don’t even begin to think you intimidate me. I don’t scare easily.”

  Quickly, I reach out and put my hand on top of hers as she lays the money down. My palm engulfs the back of her hand, reminding me quickly of how small she truly is. How she shouldn’t be here. “The shit I’ve seen here in the short amount of time I’ve been behind this bar, maybe you should be scared.”

  “I can hold my own.” She takes a sip from the drink I fixed her. “And even if I couldn’t, you’re the last person I’d ask for help.”

  She forcefully pulls her hand out from under mine and slowly walks back across the room, shaking her ass on the high-heeled boots she’s wearing.

  “Told you, man.” Skunk hits me in the shoulder, offering me a hit off the joint he’s smoking. “She’s trouble.”

  I wave him off, but can’t tear my gaze from her. As I watch her stop at a table full of guys and have a seat, I shake my head. “She’s may be trouble, but underneath it all, she’s a woman searching for a way out.”

  “Of what? She’s royalty in this town.”

  “We’re all runnin’ from something Skunk. Just sometimes that darkness catches us before we can see the light.”

  And as I watch the table over in the corner, I wonder just how fast Addalynn Blackfoot is willing to go, and how far she’s willing to run.

  Three

  Addie

  The apartment is quiet when I wake up the next morning. Part of me had hoped Tatum would come back, instead of spending the night with Remy, but judging by the silence, I’m alone. Again. Fuck, I hate this feeling.

  Getting out of bed is a struggle. Not only because it’s cold, but because the weight of so much shit is pressing down on me and I can’t seem to get out from under it. Most people would look at me and think I have it all, right? Great family, great friends, a good life. And I do, but I just don’t feel like it’s my life. No one in my family looks like me, they weren’t there to hear that my mom was pregnant, no one can tell me the details of my birth. The real intimate details, like how long was she in labor? Did she have a C-section or a natural birth? Was I early, or late? Was she happy that she was having me? Was she scared? I’ve been struggling with these questions lately. I’m having a hard time finding my place, where I fit in.

  This loneliness, this feeling of being a circle trying to fit into a square peg didn’t happen overnight. It came about gradually. I can’t even pinpoint when it actually started, which is a huge part of why I can’t seem to fix it. The phone on my bedside table buzzes loudly in the relative silence. Sighing, I reach over and grab it. A small smile spreads across my face as I see a text from my dad.

  Dad: Hey, you wanna come have breakfast with me at Harper’s? Heard she’s got some sausage biscuits.

  My mouth waters. Those things are legendary, and I’m not about to turn down the opportunity to have one. Regardless of how messed up I’m feeling these days, I always want to see Dad.

  A: Seriously? I don’t even care how you swung that, all I’m gonna say is I’ll be there in about twenty.

  Dad: You want me to come and get you?

  A: No, I’ll meet you there in a few minutes!

  A few months ago, I would have said yes. Today though, I’m scared Tyler Blackfoot will see right fuckin’ through me, and if I’m trapped in his truck with him, I won’t be able to get away without him seeing right through me. Today, I can’t take him asking me questions that may make me look too closely at myself. All I want to do is enjoy breakfast.

  I throw on a pair of jeans, a hoodie, brush my teeth, and put my hair up in a messy bun on top of my head, before shoving my feet in a pair of biker boots. Grabbing my bag, I hurry to leave the apartment, ch
ecking the lock before I make my way down the hallway, stairs, and into our parking lot. It’s a briskly cold day, but luckily the sun is shining brightly, no clouds in the sky. Frost blankets my SUV, but I get in, crank up the heat, and shiver as I check my cell again.

  There’s a message there that makes me roll my eyes – hard. Somehow Skunk’s number is in everyone’s phone in this town. I don’t even question it, he knows everyone.

  Skunk: You shouldn’t be hanging around Mayhem. You and I both know that, Addie. You’re eighteen, and I don’t think you have any idea what the fuck kind of trouble you could get into there.

  A: Like I told your new bartender last night, the only person I listen to drinks from a skull mug. The two of you don’t intimidate me.

  Skunk: I’ll tell the bouncer not to let you in.

  A laugh bubbles up from my chest. Most people in this town know who my parents are. It’s a weird dichotomy. Many want to let me do what I want because they think my parents have let me run wild, the other half of them worry about pissing my dad off. Usually I can talk them into thinking they’re pissing my dad off more by not letting me get my way. Looks like Skunk’s wiser to my game than I realized, but it’s not in me to give up that easily.

  A: That’s funny.

  Skunk: I’m serious Addie. I don’t think it’s a safe place for you.

  A: I can take care of myself. Plus you said if I help pay your rent, you’d keep quiet. Keep your word.

  Skunk: Fuck it, I did my best.

  A: Thanks Skunk, I never knew you cared.

  Skunk: Whatever. Don’t expect me to save your ass.

  A: I don’t, so your conscience can be clear and you can go about your day. Have a good one.

  As the SUV warms up, I wait to see if he’s going to text me back. Minutes later, when I haven’t gotten anything, I know he’s given up. Good. I don’t need him to save me, don’t need him to be worried about me, and sure as fuck don’t his permission to do anything.