by Jax Hart
I turn. “What broke her. What was in her diary?”
“COVID. She almost died.”
“Well, shit.” I breathe. That means the blood running through her veins is liquid gold. Little brown mouse has a target on her back. One that makes the one I put on her tiny. She better run back to whatever hole she came out of. She just put herself square in an underground war where people like her will be hunted.
My body aches but I power through it. My headache dulled to a throb, but I need a fuck-ton of water and sleep. Shit. Maybe I’ll pull off for a bag of intravenous fluids. I’m tempted to take that shit I smoked last night every night if I could have an experience like that again. But I can’t get so fucked-up like this again. Because I can’t make the clear decisions I need for my Club.
I can’t tell a soul what I experienced. I’d lose my Prez patch. Lose respect. I gotta keep this shit to myself.
I pull off the exit for the meet up house the Club’s owned for years. It’s halfway between Santa Fe and Vegas. And especially useful when moving goods and services between territories.
I pull in the huge ranch, nod to the Prospect on watch and stretch my legs. I loosen my mouth covering, taking it off to rub the sweat and dirt from the back of my neck.
F.O.C.U.S, Rog, and Smith’s bikes are here too. I enter the house, going straight to the bedroom I keep here. It has fresh clothes and a private bath. I strip, take a long cold shower, letting sting of the water reduce my inflamed muscles.
After, I dress in fresh jeans and a shirt then look for food and ice water.
“Damn. Rough night?”
“Fuck, Indé. What did you roll in that blunt?”
“Did it work? Did you ‘see’ what you needed.”
I jerk my head breaking eye contact. “I’m fucked up still. In here.” I point to my chest.
“Walk with me.” I turn, finding Roger at my back. His blue eyes know too much. Rog has battled demons worse than me. The man is like an all-knowing wise man or some shit. I grab a water and head out back with him.
“What’s up?” We wander off toward the back of the property where a metal chain-link fence twenty-feet high is capped off with barbed wire. In the distance, the sound of howling coyotes echoes across the desert.
“I’m worried about ya’. You’ve been holding onto a love that’s been gone, for far too long.”
My jaw works. Shoving my hands in the front pocket of my jeans, I turn away, kicking the fence. “Don’t speak about her to me.” I grate out. I respect the shit out of Rog. He’s always had my back. Especially when my father and uncle were gunned down in a shoot-out with a rival MC from Nogales, Mexico. He’s always been there for me. On every dark day I’ve had over the past five years,
“Son,” he places a hand on my shoulder, “it’s time to let her go. Sometimes… we look back through tinted lenses. Make the departed more than they were. Mandy had her demons, Tarak. Everyone saw them but you.”
“She was my world!” The words explode angrily from me. My hands clench the fence, my face dropping to the ground.
“That’s okay. I get that. One time I thought a woman was mine, too. She left. And I never thought I’d feel that way again. Then I met Devon. And you know what? What I feel for her is everything compared to the woman who came before her. It was a real kick in the ass.”
My face turns, “I’m happy for you. I am. But I don’t see that happening for me.”
“You’re too young to say shit like that.”
I hang my head again. “I smoked some potent shit last night that gave me crazy hallucinations. She was with me. I felt her, kissed her, touched her. It was so real Rog. I can’t let that go.”
“You have to. Take it as a gift and don’t do that shit again. Maybe that was your goodbye, Tarak. The one you never had.”
“Fuck.” I feel the hot, sting of salty tears spring from the corner of my eyes. I know he’s right. But holding her close to my heart is the only thing that’s kept it from breaking.
He claps me on the shoulder. “Take some time. Let it out. Let it go. You need your head to be right for the meet we have. If anyone suspects you’re weak they’ll use it against you and the Club.
I nod, unable to speak.
He moves away back into the darkness and toward the house.
“Baby. Why did you leave me? What happened that night?” My eyes move to the stars. But she doesn’t answer. She doesn’t come. Deep down, I know he’s right. I need to let her go. I’m not even thirty yet. “Mandy? Babe? Send me someone then, so I don’t feel guilty. I don’t want to find another you. I need you to pick her for me, okay?”
A shooting star streaks right before my eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes, babe.”
It takes a few more minutes to gather my composure. I swipe the back of my hand across my eyes and move forward. I’ll never forget her. It’ll take a bit more time. But maybe, just maybe, I’ll find myself a new world to live in. Just like Roger did.
12
Amber
Three weeks later…
I’m plagued with dreams of him at night. Reliving the hours in his arms. Somehow the guilt slipped away leaving only memories behind. I’ve been hiding out in my new home for weeks. Only leaving to get supplies at the local garden and feed store or going to teach Evan every day. Jenny kept her mouth shut about it all. Her focus is on her son, not whatever beef the RBMC has with me. All I know is he’s gone. Left for Club business and hasn’t been back since. Jenny heard through her ex some big shit was going down at an MC meet.
I know I can’t hide out in my desert house forever. Someday I’ll face him. Make my stand that I’ve bought a house with no plans of leaving. But for now, just getting myself stronger has been the goal.
Hours of landscaping has turned my skin from ghostly to a light tan. I also got into pilates and yoga, using the wide-planked covered deck behind my house as a perfect spot.
Lifting heavy rocks and boulders to make a garden wall was a bitch. But doing it as well as hauling bags of soil for my new vegetable garden and eating Mexican takeout every night has given me more bulk.
“There,” I scoop the heated Earth pressing the last seed into the soil. By spring, desert blooms will line my front drive.
Cell signal was spotty this far out of town, so I had a dish installed on my roof with a cell signal booster. Tarak can kiss it. Besides, technically I’m not in his town. My home sits outside the city limits of Santa Fe. So, technically I wasn’t lying when I said I’d leave.
My cell buzzes from the back pocket of my jeans.
“Hey Jen.”
“What are you doing?”
“Right now?” I look at my dirt-covered hands. “Getting dirty.”
“Get your ass over to my place. Evan’s at my sister’s for the weekend. We’ve got a party to attend.”
“Oh?”
“The town hasn’t seen a party this big since the great re-opening.”
“I can’t show my face. You know that.”
“Relax. I figured it all out. It’s a coming of age party for my cousin’s daughter. It’s called a Quinceanera. She wanted it to be a costume party. A grand, over the top, hoop and ballgown, men in tuxedos kind of party. It was delayed a week and now it’s on. You can’t miss!”
“Really?” I can’t help but to be a bit excited. I never went to any proms, dances, or parties in my old life. Something like this is on my new life’s to-do list.
“I have nothing like that.”
“Girl, please. I’m a cosmetologist. Hair, makeup, and costumes are my thing. It’ll be more fun if I don’t go alone.”
“Fine. But I need to look different.”
“You already do. Your tan is flawless. And how much weight have you gained these past few weeks eight pounds?”
“Twelve. I found a doctor I really like he gave me a pill to help.”
“Damn. Does he have a reversal?”
“Har-har. What time should I come.”
“Four. I
’ll have cocktails. The party starts at eight. That should be enough time to transform ourselves.”
“Can you transform a mouse into a Queen?”
“You’re already on your way to doing that Amber. You just can’t see it.”
“I’m so glad you talked me into this.”
Downtown has been transformed. Sure, the cute shops and white stucco buildings with wrought iron gate sand flower boxes were always charming, but now it glows. Large-bulb string lights hang from one side of the Main Street, connecting to others on the opposite side. There are no cars. The streets are closed to traffic as couples mill about in ball gowns, masks and men look intriguing in tuxedos and masks.
I could be anyone tonight.
Excitement races through me. Maybe, I could even meet someone. Tarak and the Royal Bastards put the word out that I was a leper and not one decent looking man within a hundred miles will even look me in the face.
I went to Albuquerque to buy furniture and hung out in a few bars there. But after meeting men like Tarak and Edge, no one could compare. But by the looks of so many tall men in tux’s anything could be possible tonight.
I don’t think they’re Bastards either. They’re all clean shaven. Not a beard in sight.
“Let’s get wine!”
“I’m more of a beer kind of girl.” But I follow her to one of the many open bars. A stage is set up near us and a live band plays a mixture of classic songs and newer popular ones.
“Dance with me darlin’.”
Jenny giggles as a blonde-haired man wearing a tux and a cowboy hat whisks her into his arms and into the crowd.
She looks like a million bucks tonight. Her deep blue gown hugs her curves and her platinum wig is styled in long loose waves down to her ass.
No one could guess her identity or mine for that matter.
She put me in a pale pink gown after making me endure a full-body spray tan. She added clip in extensions to my hair, making it fuller before curling it into long waves half-pinned up behind my mask.
My mask is made of feathers and rhinestones. What’s annoying is the fake lashes she glued to mine are so long they keep brushing against the mask. But I don’t dare take it off.
I move away from the bar area just people watching while holding my beer in one hand like a lifeline. I reach in my clutch to find my phone wanting to capture tonight. An incoming text interrupts me.
Looking good tonight, mouse. I came to collect. Did you think I’d just let it go?
He’s here. He could be anyone. But Edge’s eyes will give him away. Unless his mask covers his whole face…
What will he collect? Do I dare wait and find out? My chin lifts. I’m not the runaway anymore. Let him come at me.
I text back:
What do you want?
He replies: Your blood.
???
Antibodies doll. Real ones.
Never. I won’t let anyone steal what my body made to protect me.
The music picks up and I’m pushed around in the crowd. Bodies brush me as they pass. Mostly everyone is drunk. Part of me wants him to find me. While the other, just wants to get away. Jenny filled me in on the Bloody Scorpions. Edge has gone over to the dark side since Mandy’s death. Nothing is too far for him. Even arms dealing, trafficking, and stealing vaccines meant for medical workers. Apparently, he stole them for his Club and had a vaccination party. I was stupid to keep the truck, but all my money’s gone on my new home. Nobody gives anyone anything for free. And what did I do? I accepted a gift tied with too many strings to count.
Ducking my head, I try to slip away. I round a corner and press my back to the stucco wall. No one followed me. I keep going through the small alleyway between buildings, finding myself in a small courtyard park. Benches are placed beneath trees full of more twinkling lights and in the middle a small bridge arches over a manmade pond. I creep closer. Every day, I discover tiny beautiful places like this one.
Sighing, I sway to the melancholy of the ballad drifting through the air. Close my eyes and wish for impossible things.
“Let me guess you’re not a people person either?”
“You scared me. I didn’t even see you there.”
“My apologies.” He tips his head, drawling like a southern gentleman.
“Well, you do kind of blend in.” He’s standing against a rail to the pond, under a tree and his black tux blends in with the night. He steps forward.
“Nice mask.”
“You like?”
“I do.” He’s wearing a Phantom of the Opera mask. It covers everything but his lips. He’s tall and muscular but I can’t tell much more than that.
I hum one of the tunes from the musical under my breath.
“May I?” He holds out a hand asking for a dance.
I grin. “You may.” I place my beer down on the rail.
He’s so poised. So formal. So very eloquent and polished that I’m intrigued. A few couples stroll through the gardens so I’m hardly afraid of my new stranger.
He takes me in his arms and we just sway. One song blends into another, then another. My tummy growls breaking the spell.
“Sorry. It’s a good thing you can’t see my blush through my mask.”
“Let’s get you something to eat.” He takes my hand. But I hesitate.
“Everything okay?”
I bite my lip, nodding. “I… there’s just someone giving me a hard time.”
“What?” He growls. “An enchanting creature like you? Come. I’ll protect you.”
And I believe him. He leads me through the dusk and back into the fray. My tiny hand is clasped tightly in his and maybe—just maybe I think I can cross off one more thing on my to do list: a romance with a handsome stranger.
People move out of our way. The crowd parts like a sea as he whisks me forward to the food truck, cutting the line and demanding I be fed. It’s bossy. Arrogant but cute as heck. No one’s ever fought for me. I like it. I like it a lot.
He leads me back over to our secluded spot and takes off his tuxedo jacket, placing it on the grass for me to sit on.
“What’s your name?”
“Can I give you a fake one?”
“Why?”
“Because I want to be anyone tonight. Does that sound crazy?”
He studies me from beneath his mask. “No. I get it. Sometimes I wish I could be someone else too. My responsibilities stop me from a lot of things…”
“Then simply call me Christine…”
“From the Phantom of the Opera?”
“You know it?”
“My sister made me take her when it played in Vegas. Three times.”
“Lucky girl.”
“She doesn’t think so. She thinks I’m a pain in her ass.”
“Are you?”
He shrugs. “Maybe. Fine, if you’re Christine then I’ll be Erik.”
“You?” I snort. “Please. You couldn’t play the bad guy on your worse day.”
He winces, looking away. “Well, then just for tonight, I’ll play the good one. Raoul.”
“I’m sure you’re just as polite and pleasant without your mask on.”
He doesn’t reply and so I pick up my plate and begin to eat.
“Who is bothering you?”
“No one. I just made the mistake of taking help when I needed it and not realizing the price was more than I’m willing to pay.”
“We’ve all been there.”
I shrug. “What do you do? Are you from here? Or just visiting the birthday girl?”
“She’s my family.” I smile warmly. “But where have you been hiding, beautiful Christine?” His index finger traces up my arm from wrist to shoulder. I shiver. It’s light but erotic.
“In plain sight?”
“Then I must’ve been blind…”
My fork drops on my plate. He’s going to kiss me. I just know it. His finger moves to my mouth. The pad gently touching my lips. I decide to be bold. Flirt. I touch the tip of his fi
nger with the tip of my tongue.
He sucks in his breath.
His hands are in my hair pulling my mouth to his. I turn my head. Our parted mouths meet in the slowest, most sensuous first kiss. On cue, fireworks light up the sky behind us.
I sigh into his mouth. “This is too perfect. You can’t be real.”
He takes my hand, kissing the inside of my palm. “I’ve learned to just take what’s in the moment. And right now, you are in my moment.” He groans against my lips as he pulls me to stand and lean against him. We sway under the falling fireworks, dancing to music we hear with our hearts.
I’m over Tarak.
Over Edge.
I’m finally falling for the good guy.
“Give me your phone?”
“Why?”
“So, I can put my number in it.”
I open my clutch and handing it over. He taps in a number, creating a new contact. Then hands it back to me.
“Phantom?” I giggle. “I thought you were the good guy?”
“Maybe, I’m both. Take off your mask. Please?”
But I can’t. I’m still insecure about my face. I’ve changed so much but insecurity is a hard thing to break. “Just a little bit more… of this.”
Something over my shoulder catches his attention. He stiffens, pulls me closer against him, then changes his mind and forces me behind his back.
“Boss. We have a situation.”
Three men in suits and masks walk briskly forward. Who is this guy? Some kingpin from Vegas? A mafia boss?”
“Can it wait?”
“No.”
He sighs in frustration. “Wait here for me. Don’t move.” He places a finger against my lips.
“As if I’d go anywhere.” My words please him. One of his men holds up a phone. Anger radiates from my man’s body. It’s palpable. He rips off his mask.
“Who took these.” His voice booms like thunder.
The grand finale lights up the sky and the harsh angles of his face. How could I not know? But he tasted different. Spoke different. The mask turned him to someone different for a while. I guess now I can crush on them both while I’m alone in my bed in the dead of night. He shaved his beard. They all did. Probably just for tonight? For some teenage girl’s birthday. It hits me just how deep and loyal these proud men are.
