Chapter 4
CHAPTER
FOUR
Erica
“Sorry, Brew,” I say as he looks up. Holy moly. He’s wearing those thicker rimmed reading glasses again.
Sliding them off, he chews on the arm, giving me a chin lift. “What’s up?”
“Um, there’s a woman out front for you. I tried to call your line, but you’ve put it on do not disturb. She’s very insistent.”
He frowns. “What woman?” Then he looks at the other screen next to his, undoubtedly it’s the cameras in the front. “Fuck.”
I roll my lips. “Would you like me to tell her you’re not here, sir?”
“Don’t call me sir, and no, it’s fine. I’ll deal with it.”
He reluctantly rolls his chair back and stands. I take that as my cue to leave, knowing I’ll be able to hear the conversation if he stays out front.
The woman was a little frantic; and under no uncertain terms is she sober.
My mind races. Is she an ex? An uncomfortable feeling runs through me.
Jealousy.
I’ve never felt this feeling before. Being married to a man who had more than one wife was a way of life. There was never a time when I felt a feeling like the one bubbling up in me now; heat rising in my cheeks, my gut churning, my words stuck in my throat.
Still. I can’t ignore the woman. “He’ll be right out,” I say, smiling pleasantly as I sit back down.
She’s pacing. Under all the grime and stringy hair, she’s pretty. Her skin is clear, with big blue eyes, long lashes, and an attitude that no doubt gets her into trouble. She’s shorter than me, and petite to say the least.
My interest piqued, I almost jump when I hear Brew’s voice raise, uncertainty in his tone. “Nova?” His words cut through the deafening silence.
Nova.
So we have a name; she wouldn’t give me one, and I wasn’t going to prize it out of her. She looked like she’d tackle me to the ground if I asked her one more question.
“Dylan?” she sounds relieved. “B-Brew.”
My eyes flick to him, standing with his hands on his hips.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“I-I got out.”
Got out of where? Prison?
“When?”
She tucks her hair behind her ears as I pretend to look at my screen. It might be a dead giveaway that my fingers aren’t moving across the keyboard, but they don’t seem to notice.
“A few weeks ago—”
“Weeks? And you didn’t call me.”
Ex. Definitely an ex.
She looks far too young to be his girlfriend, but who am I to judge? I married a man with several other wives, I’m hardly the world’s leading expert on men.
“I-I wanted to.”
He moves toward her. “But you didn’t?”
“No, and I know how Haze feels, so I didn’t wanna call him.”
Who the heck is she?
“I had no idea you were gettin’ out until next month.”
“Good behavior.”
Definitely prison.
Her head moves, and I feel her gaze on me as I squint at my screen, then move my fingers over the blank email I’m now using as a decoy.
“Come ‘ere.”
Oh, no.
She stops, startled, then swallows hard, folding into his arms.
I just about fall off my seat. I’ve never seen Brew embrace anybody in my entire life, much less a homeless woman who just got out of jail.
Breathe.
This has nothing to do with you. Nothing at all.
“Does your mom know you’re out?”
She pulls back from their embrace. “I- I didn’t want to burden her.”
“That’s not gonna sit well.” As if just noticing her appearance, he adds, “You need a fuckin’ shower and a decent meal.”
“You’re pissed.”
“Goddamn right I’m pissed. Jesus. Why didn’t you call?”
“I-I’ve done enough damage.”
He points in her face. “Don’t give me that. We’re supposed to be family…”
Family as in a sibling? Or family as in an ex?
“I knew you’d yell at me if I came.”
“You know why I’m mad? Because you look like you just pulled yourself out of a dumpster. Don’t give me that crap about wantin’ to do shit on your own. When you’re left to your own devices, this is what happens.”
He fishes around in his pocket.
“What are you gonna do, call the cops?”
He looks up at her, shaking his head. “You need to sleep it off, have a shower, and put some clean clothes on. These are the keys to my apartment upstairs.”
Her eyes round. “So I can stay?” Before he even finishes his sentence, she throws herself into his arms.
Awesome, so now this mysterious woman is staying with him? Who the heck is she?
“Yes, you can stay, but I’m not tellin’ Haze, you gotta pull up your big girl panties and do that for yourself. Don’t expect him to go easy on you.”
“I promise I’ll stay outta trouble, B-Brew, I mean it this time.”
“Come on, let’s get you inside. You got any more bags?” He hauls a small canvas bag over his shoulder.
“Just that.”
“Down the hall, to the last door at the end.”
“T-thank you, Brew, you don’t know what this means to me.”
“Just move your ass before Haze sees you like this and calls your mom.”
“You’re the best.”
She takes off down the hall, a spring in her step.
I stare at my screen, unseeing. I feel bad for listening, but it wasn’t as if I did it on purpose. I suppose making myself scarce was the right thing to do, but to be honest, I wanted to know who she was and what she’s doing here.
As if reading my thoughts, Brew stops, his eyes meeting mine as I turn my head. “Hold my calls,” he says. “I’ve gotta deal with this.”
I nod. “No problem. Would your girl— uh, friend—like me to head out and grab her some clothes, or supplies or anythin—?”
“I’ve got it.” He steels his jaw. “And she’s not my girlfriend or my friend, she’s my cousin.”
Cousin?
Relief washes through me.
Okay. A cousin I can handle.
“Oh.” Those words actually leave my mouth, and I feel like an idiot. I clamp my mouth shut, wanting the ground to swallow me whole.
His eyes narrow. “Was she rude to you?”
I shake my head. “No, she was just upset and distressed,” I say honestly. I take out the part where she clutched her head and began to pace. I’m sure he can see for himself the state she’s in.
“I’ve got this. She’ll be better when she’s had a decent night’s sleep.” He clears his throat. “She’s not a bad person… She just got mixed up with the wrong crowd.”
“It happens,” I breathe. “I, of all people, know that.”
He gives me one long look that I can’t decipher, then strides off down the hall. It’s the most he’s ever said to me.
I can’t even remember a time when we’ve held more than a three sentence conversation, and it’s always about work. I know nothing about him or his family. But Nova is definitely troubled. She didn’t even tell her mom she was out.
Then I get to wondering what she did, and how long she was in the slammer for.
I try not to judge anyone, and I do a pretty good job of it, taking people at face value.
But it’s Nova’s eyes that are haunting. Blue, like Brew’s are and almost desolate somehow, like they’ve seen too much — Dylan. She did say that, right? Brew’s real name is Dylan? It suits him.
The worst part of all? The relief I felt when he told me she wasn’t his girl.
Having a teenager isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Before we escaped, Olive was homeschooled, just like all the children in the compound where we lived.
To say that Olive loves going to a public school never ceases to amaze me. She’s resilient and makes friends easily.
When I left her with Amber, I never wanted to drag anyone into my mess.
I knew the people who lent me money weren’t good, and I was almost trafficked as a result when I couldn’t rustle up the funds quick enough to pay them back.
The truth is; I fled to try and get the money elsewhere, leading them away from Olive and Amber.
If they knew about either one of them, they’d hurt them just to prove a point.
That’s what men with no souls do. It will haunt me for the rest of my life, leaving my child.
Not knowing if I’d see her again once those men caught up with me.
I’m grateful every day that it was the MC that caught up with me first.
Sometimes I think about the journey I’ve led in my short lifetime so far on this earth, and it blows my mind.
You could say I know how to survive. I may not be tough like Amber, but I’m a fighter.
I will stand up for what I believe in, and others if they’re in need.
When Amber punched my sister wife, Jude, in the face all those years ago, she was brave.
She wasn’t letting Jude stand in the way of our freedom, and it’s the sole reason we were able to escape.
I can’t even believe that used to be my life.
That I was so deeply, terribly unhappy but unable to leave.
Steven, like most men in a church like ours, ruled everything.
I didn’t have permission to do anything or go anywhere.
While I was lucky that Steven never laid a hand on me, Amber wasn’t so lucky.
That bastard Vincent deserves all he gets, and I hope he rots in Hell, along with Steven.
He may not have gone to the lengths Vincent went to in order to keep the organization running, but he was a big part of it.
He could’ve walked away, but he chose greed, money and sex over everything we held dear.
As I watch my daughter now, setting up the props for the show tomorrow night, I feel a sense of calm that only washes over me from time to time. You’re doing okay, I tell myself. Really.
My phone chimes, and I glance down at it.
Luna
Lunch tomorrow? Muso’s?
Muso’s is Hustler’s swanky cafe in the French Quarter.
He and Audrina, Nevada the Tail Gunner’s mom, run it together.
They also have an adorable daughter, Aubrey Mae, who I babysit from time to time.
I always wanted more kids. A bunch of them.
Being a mom came naturally to me, and while I’m not too old to have them at thirty-five, I can’t see it happening.
Me
I’d love to. What’s the occasion?
Luna
We don’t need an excuse to stuff our faces
Me
I’ll see you there, 1 o’clock?
Luna
Sounds like a plan
I’ve become close friends with Luna, well, with all of the women at the club.
They’re a great bunch of girls, even if I don’t hang out as much as I’d like to.
Times are tough, with paying back the money to the club, rent, food, and school fees.
The boys pay me well, but I’m struggling on a one-parent income.
I’d love to buy the things that Olive needs without having to worry, but that just isn’t reality.
I’ve been circling some weekend jobs that I could do short term, just to try and get ahead, but it would mean Olive being home alone, which I don’t like even though she’s fourteen, or her hanging out with Amber and Bronco all weekend.
I’ve spent the last year since being reunited, making it up to her any which way I can.
Her happiness is paramount. Mine? Not so much. It’s irrelevant. After what this child has been through, I owe it to her to give her a good life.
And that’s what I strive for every single day.