Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

This was so not my scene. Kimmie had been at me for days, pushing and pushing and pushing until I finally gave in. I hadn’t mentioned anything to her about Tambre’s concerns, but she’d been coming into work on time recently and seemed to have cleaned up her act. She continued to go out almost every night, though. It bothered me, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. Being the supportive friend was a role I thought I needed to play for her and for myself. That was one reason I was outside the River’s Edge Bar on a Friday night with Kimmie while Deandra babysat for me. My goal was to be done and home by midnight at the latest, and Kimmie had already made fun of me for making this plan.

“Jeez, you used to be fun. Now you’re like some old person.”

I never thought twenty-six was old, but in her eyes, I guess I was. As a working mom, I had to prioritize my time to take care of my daughter and my job. Anything else stayed on the back burners, and some of them were turned off permanently.

I shut off my car and took a deep breath. Kimmie rummaged in her purse and pulled out a plastic bag with three tightly rolled joints in it.

“You’d better not think you’re gonna smoke those in here,” I snapped.

Kimmie huffed as she pulled one out and placed it between her lips. “Fuck, Opal. What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me. I just don’t want the smell of pot in my car.”

She found a cheap lighter and flicked the wheel with her thumb. It sparked a few times but didn’t ignite. “Damnit, I’ll save these for later. Got ’em from a guy over at that other place in Maggie Valley. Real shithole, but damn, they know how to have a good time! Let’s get inside and get a drink. Hopefully some lucky guy in there can get the stick out of your ass for a change.”

I bit back a nasty retort and asked myself for the hundredth time, Why did I come here?

The gravel crunched as we walked across the parking lot to the log cabin–styled building. It was bigger than I’d expected, with a long line of bikes in a regimented row along the front. Music spilled out from the door, and I recognized the tune, but I couldn’t name the song. I saw through the opening that Stud stood up front with a bass in his hands and was singing into a mic. I’d met him and his wife, Eva, when they brought their girls in for cuts. He was one of the hottest men I’d ever seen. His full mouth made this half smile that had this sexy come-hither vibe to it. The ladies in the crowd squealed like obsessed teenagers. Then Eva arrived, and I saw that smile was totally for her.

My heart jumped a little. Someone smiled at me like that. Once.

“For fuck’s sake, Opal, come on!”

Kimmie’s impatience started to irritate me. I had to be at the salon by nine in the morning for a cut and special color palette that would take me about four hours to do. Bad idea to start that kind of work if I was too tired, or even worse, hungover. “I’ll be the designated driver. I don’t want to do any drinking.”

She threw her hands in the air and huffed out an impatient breath. “Fine. You do you. I’m gonna have some fun. Feel free to leave me anytime. I can get a ride from someone.”

She disappeared into the crowd toward the bar. I found a clear spot at a back wall and parked myself there to watch and listen to the music. It had been ages since I’d been to a bar. It didn’t really scare me, but I was still a little nervous.

The people were piled in thick, and many were dancing. I spotted some of the other Dragon Runners members by their cuts. One of them sat at the bar sipping a white ceramic mug of what I assumed was coffee. Huge, dark, and menacing, his eyes scanned the crowd constantly. Another one was behind the bar along with Betsey. I remembered someone calling him Bruiser, but I hadn’t really met him yet. She spotted me and waved me over. I played dumb and waved back. Then she got too busy filling orders to bother with me.

I glanced at my phone sometime later to find out only a half hour had passed by. I was sure it was more. The lights, the noise, the gyrating bodies—it was getting to me. I found myself thinking about the burn of a fireball shot as it made its way down my throat. Then the second and the third and the fourth and finally the numbness that followed. It had been so long since I’d done anything like that, and the sudden craving caught me off guard.

“Just one drink won’t hurt,” the voice in my belly urged. One that had been dormant but never completely gone.

No, I said internally, with a firmness that didn’t quite hit the mark.

“You can take tonight to relax. Go back to boring tomorrow.”

Stop talking to me.

“Maybe Kimmie will let you buy a joint off her. She obviously needs the money.”

Stop.

“You’ve been working so hard. Pearl is safe at home. You’d be okay letting your hair down.”

Stop!

I almost said it out loud. Shouted it for that matter. Yeah, one drink might be okay, but it could lead to another. Then another. Then another. And when that wasn’t enough, other stuff would follow. I would not be going down that road, but it was hard. Especially when a rum and Coke appeared in front of my eyes in a big square hand.

“Here you go, baby doll. You look like you could use one of these.”

My eyes focused on a large wide man with a slight gut hanging down over his belt. His flannel shirt screamed country farmer, not biker, and the cowboy hat on his head seemed like overkill. He stood very close to me. Closer than I wanted.

“No, thank you,” I shouted, hoping to be heard.

I wasn’t.

“Ah, doan’ be like that. It’s Friday, and we’re here for a good time!”

His boyish grin might be cute another time, but at that moment, I found it disturbing. “I’m sorry, but I’m not drinking tonight.”

“Come on now, baby doll. I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

The leer, the sparkle, the words—I recognized this tactic. It was far too familiar. “It’s not a good night for me.”

The grin fell a little. “You should lighten up some, else you ain’t gonna get anywhere.”

Anger rose up in me. In the past, I’d handled these situations much differently. Now, I didn’t want to handle them at all. “I’m not looking for anything, anyone, or anywhere tonight.”

“Then why’d you come here?”

Good question. “I don’t know. My friend needed a wingwoman, but she’s abandoned me, so I guess I’ll leave.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“Her name is Kimmie.”

His belligerent frown turned up into a knowing smirk. “Kimmie? Pink hair? I met her last weekend over at Reaver’s bar in Maggie Valley.” His bushy brows waggled a few times. “Now that’s a woman who knows how to throw down and go down.”

A vision of my friend on her knees ran through my mind. I didn’t need to hear more about Kimmie and her private life. I wanted to keep my own focus, and at the moment, that was to get away from this bully. “That’s great for her, but I’m not into that anymore. Have a nice night.”

I turned to leave and was promptly jerked back. My upper arm burned from the meaty hand that was wrapped around it.

“Don’t you walk away from me, bitch. I’ll say when you can leave.”

I wasn’t proud of it, but the anger in me drowned in a sea of fear. Memories assailed me and emotions flooded my brain, paralyzing me with the pain of being overpowered and helpless. This was not new, and I felt myself being pulled back into something I didn’t want any more. The snake in my belly uncoiled and hissed as it awakened.

“If you need help, you know where to find it.”

The sibilant voice laughed at me. It knew I was losing. Should I just give in and get it over with?

“Don’t do it, sweetness,” another voice spoke up in my head. One that was both welcome and dreaded.

So much whirled through my brain, I couldn’t figure out how to react. Run? Give in? Fight? Take the drink and throw it in his face? Or toss it back and down the lot?

In the end, it was decided for me.

A flash caught my eye just as a fist connected with the man’s face. He yelled, “Motherfucker!” as he let go of my arm and stumbled back. Weatherman stepped in front of me, shielding me from the asshole.

The snake grumbled but returned under its rock. The other voice went silent, but I got the impression of amusement.

“The lady said no once. She shouldn’t have to repeat herself.”

Only one other person had ever thrown down for me like this. Stood between me and danger.

And because of me, he would never do it again.

The asshole wasn’t backing down, and neither was Weatherman. The man outweighed the biker by at least fifty pounds, yet this David and Goliath scenario kept going.

Then another Goliath came to stand next to Weatherman. The biker who’d been sipping coffee at the bar stood larger and taller, and his face seemed to swell with anger like the Hulk’s.

The pretend cowboy backed off with a sneer, attempting to save some sort of face. “Ain’t no cunt worth this trouble. Plenty more to choose from.”

I wanted to slap him.

I didn’t have to, as the big bar bouncer did it for me. The asshole crumpled and didn’t get up.

“Thanks, Mute,” Weatherman said to the behemoth, getting a thumbs-up in response before turning back to me, his eyes filled with fury. “Come with me.”

I followed him outside, not sure why I was also mad as hell. What was it I had that drew jerks to me all the time?

Weatherman whirled around, catching me short. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded. His harsh tone rubbed me the wrong way.

“I came with my friend Kimmie.” I didn’t tell him I only did it because she’d badgered me. He didn’t need to know any more of my business than that.

“Kimmie? The one with the pink hair? Ah, hell.” He crossed his arms and stood over me. “Do you know where your friend is right now?”

No, I didn’t, but I wasn’t going to admit that to him. “I think she went to the bathroom.”

“If you turn around and look at the Jeep Cherokee in the back under the pin oak tree, you’ll see her giving a blow job to one of the oil refinery crewmen who comes here on weekends. She best hope Betsey doesn’t find out she’s turning tricks out here.”

Cold dread hit my stomach like a lead anchor. Sure enough, when I glanced at the Jeep, I saw a head of pink hair bobbing up and down in a man’s lap. He had his eyes closed and his head back as she worked him.

I spun away from the sight with a slight cry and squeezed my eyes tight. If it hadn’t been for Weatherman’s arms catching me at my elbows, I might have fallen. The image still showed behind my lids, embedded in my brain. Panic clawed its way up my throat.

“Take a breath, baby . ”

I took in a deep one, filling my lungs as I’d been taught to do. Count to four, exhale over eight.

“Shit. I’m sorry I threw that at you. Wasn’t a good idea.” His trite tone sounded regretful. “You just don’t strike me as a woman who hangs out in bars.”

Gut punch. Whatever air I had taken in left me. “You don’t know me well enough to know what kind of woman I am.”

His eyes glittered down at me. “You’re right. I don’t know you, and it’s not right for me to judge you for taking some time for yourself. Single parenting isn’t easy, and you never get time off. But I can tell this is not where you want to be.”

I shook my head and let my anger go. “No, it’s not. I would rather be home with Pearl. Kimmie’s been pushing for me to go somewhere with her, and Deandra volunteered to watch Pearl so I could.”

I looked up, meeting his eyes. He stood close, and we both noticed at the same time that he still held my arms. He didn’t let go, and I didn’t pull away.

In that moment, I felt safer than I had in a long time. I also felt more vulnerable, and the odd combination brought its own level of anxiety.

He took a breath and let it out slowly, his fingers lightly massaging my forearms in apology. “I’m sorry for jumping your shit earlier. It’s not my place to say who or where you can hang out. It can get rowdy at the River’s Edge sometimes. You saw that tonight.”

He moved closer to me. “I’m not sorry for stepping in.”

“I could have handled it.” The words came out like the lie they were. No way could I have dealt with that asshole on my own.

“Yeah, maybe, but you shouldn’t have to, and you won’t when any Dragon Runners man is around. Even if I wasn’t here tonight, you think Mute was just gonna let a man put his hands on you uninvited?”

“I guess not.”

“No guessing, babe. We take care of our own.”

Time stopped. The world around me silenced and ceased to move. It seemed to be waiting. Waiting for me to decide something. Something bigger than me. Something that had the potential of greatness or disaster. A risk I’d taken in the past, and it nearly killed me.

“It’s okay to let your heart beat again.”

“Have you had anything to drink?”

The dual voices, one in my head and one from the man in front of me, started time flowing again. I dropped my eyes and shook my head. “No.” It was the same answer to both of them.

“Do you want to drink? I’ll stay with you if you do.”

“No. I don’t drink. I can’t, and I won’t.” My voice came out defensive and harsh, but I couldn’t help it. I hoped he planned on letting that go, as I had no desire to explain why.

Weatherman made a noncommittal sound in his throat. “If you’re ready to leave, I’ll follow you home.”

“I can’t leave Kimmie.”

“I’ll text Bruiser. He’ll keep an eye on her and keep her safe. Give me your number, and I’ll text if I hear something.”

“I’m not?—”

“Babe, let me do this for you.”

“Babe, let him do this for you.”

The two voices were too much to resist. “Okay, but you can only follow me as far as the street. I’ll go up to my apartment myself.”

I recited my number. His thumbs flew over the phone’s screen, my own phone pinging with an incoming message a moment later before he tucked the rectangle into his back pocket. “I just texted you so you’ll have my number too. Let’s go.”

The single headlight stayed with me the ten minutes or so to my place. He didn’t follow so close that I thought we’d collide, but his presence was constant in my rearview mirror.

I parked on the street and glanced over to where his bike idled as he straddled the seat. I couldn’t see his face behind the face shield, but I sensed his eyes on me. This was confirmed when he flicked two fingers at me. I waved back automatically before tapping my code into the electronic lock to the outside door and heading up to my apartment.

A few minutes later, I watched Deandra head to her car from the upper window. Weatherman was still there, waiting until she got into her car and drove away. His helmeted head tilted back as if checking on me one last time, and then his red taillight disappeared down the road with a throaty growl.

Pearl was dead asleep, but I was wide awake and buzzing with energy. I puttered around the apartment, putting a few dishes away from the drying rack and wiping the counters. Kimmie was so seldom home anymore that most of the mess in the apartment was mine and Pearl’s, so it didn’t bother me to do nearly all the cleaning. I swept some crumbs into my palm and brushed them into a rather full trash can, debating on whether to take the bag down to the dumpster in the side alley or wait until the morning.

My phone beeped with a message, causing me to jump.

Weatherman: Bruiser texted back to say he put two prospects on Kimmie. She’s totally wasted, so they took her to the Lair to sleep it off. They won’t hurt her. She’s safe.

I let out a heavy breath. The hairs on the back of my neck told me there was more to come, but at least my friend was okay for now.

Me: Thanks for letting me know.

Weatherman: No problem.

I caught my lower lip between my teeth as I took it one step further. Too far, maybe, but something compelled me to send one more text. Just one.

Me: Thanks again for helping me, and sorry for being so bitchy tonight. I’m still dealing with some baggage, and I don’t usually talk about it to strangers.

The three dots stayed still for a moment or two, and I thought he was either asleep or going to ignore me.

Weatherman: You’ve cut my hair. I changed a tire and punched out a guy for you. We exchanged phone numbers. I think it’s safe to say we’re not strangers anymore. Sleep well, and I’ll see you soon. I’m due for another cut.

Weatherman: For what it’s worth, I’d keep your baggage to myself. If you need to talk about it, I’ll be around.