Chapter Two
Annie
I stood there, not moving. The announcer called my name and I just stood there like an idiot! I won. And I couldn’t seem to make myself move.
The guy stuck out his hand and I took it automatically. He tugged me to him, putting his hand around my waist and urging me to the front of the stage. I’m not even sure I was smiling. In fact, I probably looked terrified. My knees trembled and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could walk in these Godforsaken heels without falling on my face.
Someone draped a sash around my body and handed me some cheap roses. Still, I stood there. Rooted to the spot.
“For fuck’s sake, bitch. Wave and smile.” The announcer bit out his order in an irritated voice, all the while smiling like he was the happiest person in the world.
I have no idea why I froze. Probably the encounter earlier. I definitely hadn’t been expecting to win. Not in any way. Hadn’t the man who’d come to my rescue said the same thing? No way I should have won after freaking out like I had. No matter the circumstances…
But wait. Wasn’t that guy one of the judges? The other judge had been there when I’d first come back on stage -- bloody nose and eyes that were starting to bruise -- but was nowhere to be seen now. Only the other one. The guy from backstage. My hero.
He stood behind the judges’ table, arms crossed over his chest with a satisfied smirk on his face. It was the first time I’d really gotten a good look at him. Sure, I’d been so close to him earlier I got a hit of the gasoline fumes clinging to him, but the scent hadn’t really registered. Now, I noticed the black vest with patches. One side said “Dom,” the other “SAA.” Of course. A motorcycle gang or something. I’d seen a few at the diner, but they were all different from this guy. At least, they were at the diner. Most of them had women they simply doted on. Everyone seemed so happy. I hadn’t believed it when Ulyana had told me about them when she’d convinced me to come with her. But I also knew from talking to her that not all clubs in the area were like the ones I saw at the diner. Stumbling into a guy who could quite possibly be on the wrong side of the law and dangerous to me sounded about right for my luck. Though, this guy hadn’t seemed like the type to hurt me. In fact, he’d only been gentle. I couldn’t imagine a man as dangerous and uncaring as people said bikers were would have taken the time to try to calm me down. Of course, he had also been a real jerk. There had been no reason to be mean about letting me know I wasn’t going to win this contest.
Except I did win. And he’d obviously been the one who’d chosen me.
Behind me on the stage, there was an uproar. Women screeched and yelled. One in particular was very vocal.
“What the hell? Jimmy! You said I was gonna win!” a whiny, nasally voice piped up. I thought it was the same woman who’d made fun of me outside the bathroom.
“What?” This screech from another female voice. “How did you know you were gonna win? He literally just wrote the number on a piece of paper and stuffed it in an envelope. I watched him do it!”
“How could you possibly have given the win to that little mouse?” That from the first woman.
“Are you saying this thing was rigged?” Voices called out from several different directions. Outrage and indignant denials came from all around me.
“Wait! Wait!” Another man jumped up on stage and grabbed the mic from the announcer. “You got it wrong. You didn’t look at it right!” He tried to smile to cover his panic, whatever was happening, he was in a snit. “Gimmie that!” I thought the guy’s name was Jimmy, the guy who’d organized the competition. He snatched the paper, envelope, and the mic from the announcer and looked at it, his smile widening. “Number twenty-five! Mercedes Golden!”
“Ten bucks says that’s not her real name,” I muttered as someone stripped off my sash and snatched the roses from me. I didn’t care about the sash, and the roses sucked. I just wanted the money. And I was a tad bit snippy about it. It was right there in my hands! Ugh!
“Mercedes” acted like she’d won the Miss Universe contest instead of the West Palm Beach Bikini Diva contest. She blew kisses and waved her hand in front of her face like she was drying her tears. Well, until she was handed her check for a whole two hundred and fifty dollars. “What the fuck is this?” The woman looked outraged. “Where’s the rest of the zeros?”
“I mean, if you don’t want the check, I’ll be happy to take it,” I grumbled dryly. “What exactly were you expecting?”
Mercedes turned her venomous gaze on me and hissed. “Bitch.”
“Me? What’d I do?” I knew I should just walk away. Let it go. For whatever reason my hero had tried to let me win, but I could have told him shit like that never worked out for me.
“You’re breathing .” Mercedes stepped close and gave me a hard shove. “Why don’t you just shut up and die !”
I stumbled back and caught my high heel on… something, and tumbled to the floor on my ass. My view was a bit obscured after that because of my position on the stage, so I missed what exactly happened. When I finally got to my feet, there was a brawl on stage.
Mercedes slapped the piss outta Jimmy, and a couple of the other girls snagged Mercedes’ hair and reached for the big check (Literally big. In size. Not dollar amount.) I have no idea why. It was one of those really huge trophy checks. It wasn’t like it was actually good for anything. Right?
All around the stage, men and women hollered and cheered, wanting the fight to continue. Or, more accurately, wanting to introduce a kiddie pool full of Jell-O or pudding. Because, why the hell not?
Scooting backward, I tried to get out of the way and not get stepped on. Some of the women on the stage around me backed away, leaving the area, but more than a handful joined in the fight. It kind of looked like a battle royale.
Then, like some avenging angel, my hero pushed himself up onto the stage, his gaze quartering the area as if seeking a particular target. The second he spotted me, he got a determined expression on his face and stalked in my direction. He had to move several women aside and he did so carefully, obviously being mindful of his bigger size and greater strength.
Once he spotted me, his gaze never wavered. He moved straight to me without hesitation. When he reached me, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. Then he scooped me up and carried me through the throng of women on stage and the men climbing up to join them in the melee.
“Hang on, girl.” His voice was warm and gruff. I shivered as I obeyed him, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck as he carried me to the end of the stage and shoved his way down the steps. When we reached the bottom, I fully expected him to set me on my feet, but he kept going, his long strides putting distance between us and the chaos behind us. “Where are your things?” His voice rumbled through me and I found myself clinging tighter, wanting to get closer to him. “Ain’t got all day, girl. Answer.”
I looked up at him and knew my eyes were wide as I took in his appearance. His hair was shaggy, but not too long. Kind of like he wanted it out of his way but had better shit to do than mess with his hair. There was a liberal amount of gray both in his hair and his beard. He was heavily muscled and I was pretty sure he was at least six inches taller than me. Or more. “Uh,” I cleared my throat, trying to pull myself together and focus on what was going on around me. “I didn’t bring much. It’s strapped to my bike.”
That got a grunt from him. “Didn’t seem like the type, but makes this a whole lot easier.” He sounded like he was talking to himself and not to me, so I didn’t say anything. He still hadn’t put me on my feet. “Where you parked?”
“Um, just over there?” I pointed to a nearby bicycle rack. “Mine’s on the end.”
He stopped and looked around like he couldn’t see the bicycle rack only a few steps away. “Girl, ain’t seein’ no bikes anywhere.”
“Really?” I rolled my eyes, squirming until he let me down, then walked over to where I’d left my bike. It had a small pack strapped down to the back where I had a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.
“That ain’t a fuckin’ bike.” He was right behind me. I could feel the heat from his body. OK, so it could have been heat from the afternoon sun, but I liked the thought of this man close to me. Yeah. I wasn’t right in the head sometimes.
“Well, what do you call it?” I didn’t turn around, preferring to pull on my clothes over my bikini without looking at the hunk of perfect, gruff man behind me.
“It’s a fucking bicycle!” He sounded equal parts amused and frustrated, and like he wasn’t sure which emotion would finally win out.
I shrugged. “Yeah. That’s what I said. A bike.”
“Sweetheart, there’s a distinct difference between a bike and a bicycle.”
I fastened my shorts and straightened my shirt as he spoke. I must have had a confused look on my face because he immediately frowned. He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “Look. I appreciate your help, but now I’ve got to go get a shower before my shift starts.” I gave him what I hoped was a bright smile and waved as I pulled my bike out of the rack.
“Where the hell you think you’re goin’, girl?”
I blinked up at him as I straddled the seat and put my foot on the pedal to take off. “I just told you. I need a shower and I’m probably running a little late as it is. What time is it anyway?”
He tilted his head at me like he was curious. “Little after four.”
I sucked in a breath. “After four?” My voice came out a little squeak. “Oh shit! I’m late! I’m so freaking late!” It took all I had not to burst into tears. “Marge told me if I was late she’d have to fire me! I can’t lose that job!”
Putting all my weight into it, I stepped on the pedal of the bicycle… and nothing happened.
“Whoa there, girl. You can’t go off ridin’ that abomination in those fuckin’ shoes.”
“But I’m late!” I was starting to struggle now. Not physically. My insides felt icky. It was like when I got into trouble at the camp, only so much worse. At the camp I knew what the punishments were depending on the infraction. Out in the world? I didn’t have a clue. Sure, Marge would fire me, but she was also the lady who owned the motel. Would she kick me out of my room too? Where would I sleep?
“Stop. You said Marge. You work at Tito’s Diner?”
“Yes. I’m trying to learn to be on time. Marge says if I’m not, I’ll get fired.”
“OK. What time did your shift start?”
I could feel my lower lip trembling and I tried to bite it so I didn’t lose my control on the stupid tears threatening. “Um, four o’clock.” Could I sound any more miserable?
“Come on, girl.” He held out a hand. I took it before I thought. “I’ll get you there and see if I can smooth things over with Marge for you.” It was ingrained in me to obey. The second I took his hand I realized I’d fallen back into the same trap I’d been in most of my life. Letting men in the camp dictate to me without so much as questioning them. It didn’t matter how much I wanted to like this guy; I didn’t know him. I was also pretty sure if I did know him, the last thing I’d do was take his hand.
I snatched my hand from his grasp and put both of my hands behind my back. “I’m fine,” I said, looking down at my feet. “I just need to leave right now.”
He sighed, long and loud, like I was the one putting him out. “Well, whatever you’re gonna do, you should do it now. The crowd is thinnin’ out, but I don’t like you here by yourself.”
I shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”
“Uh-huh.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Look. I know Tito and Elena. Marge too. I’ll ride on ahead and let them know what happened. It’ll be all right.” The guy looked uncomfortable with his offer of help and I wasn’t sure why. Growing up in an encampment away from the real world had left me with more than a few social barriers. Sure, I’d learned to read people. Especially when they were angry. But the people on the outside were very different than what I’d been taught they were in the camp.
“I’m good. Honest.” I gave him a bright smile. I stuck my shoes back into my bag and pulled out some flip-flops. Not the best for riding, but my hero was right. I couldn’t very well make it to Tito’s riding a bike in heels. “Thanks for your help. And for trying to let me win.” I waved and smiled, then took off, doing my best not to let the familiar panic overtake me. “It was nice meeting you!” I called to him over my shoulder. Yeah. Not the best response. Sighing, I focused on my route ahead so I didn’t get hurt because I didn’t pay attention.
I wasn’t very good at riding a bike. Until two weeks ago, I’d never done it. Leaving the camp had been more of a shock than I’d been prepared for. I supposed that’s why all us kids had been kept isolated. So we’d be off balance and come running home if any of us ever decided to try to leave.
Keeping to the bike trail was hard. At least, for me it was. I was more than a little wobbly, but I kept on. If there was one thing I knew about myself, it was that I was stubborn. Too stubborn for my own good. My stubbornness was quite possibly the only positive thing I had going for me to keep me out of the camp and help me make a life for myself outside the hell I’d been living in.