3. SoCal Hospitality #2
"So she says," JP muses, leaning back against his motorcycle. He crosses his arms over his broad chest. "Other than the accent, I don't really see a resemblance."
I scoff, shoulders relaxing. "Seriously? Then you must be blind as a bat." I tilt my head, nodding at the bike. "Probably shouldn't be riding that thing if that's the case, JP . You could cause a lot of unnecessary injuries."
"JP?" He lets out a charming chuckle, running his tattooed hand through his medium-length hair. "We don't know each other like that, babe. To you, I'm Jesse." He grins, flashing me a surprisingly white smile. "Just Jesse."
"Well, that's fine, Just Jesse ," I state with an edge. "Quite frankly, I don't wanna call you anything. I just want my brother." I look over at the clubhouse. "He here?" I've had about enough of this gong show. Grabbing my suitcase, I storm toward the wooden doors. "Beau? Beau? You in there?"
"Woah, woah, woah." Jesse jogs up beside me, grabbing my shoulder as he spins me around. He laughs, giving his fellow bikers an incredulous look. "You can't go in there, babe." He points to an SOS patch on his leather vest. "Members only."
"I don't care if you need the presidential seal to enter," I argue, swatting his hand away as I turn on my heel and march into the shoddy building.
"I am getting what I came here for!" The door slams behind me, and half a dozen eyes dart in my direction as I scan the various pool tables, make-shift bar, and lounge alcove. "Beau? Beau?"
"She must be fucking loony," Yeti mumbles as he and Jesse trail after me. "We might actually need to shoot her."
"I am not loony ," I grunt, stomping my foot as I peer up at Jesse. "I am Savannah Kingsley, and Rad , or whatever the heck you call him, is my little brothe r. Now"—I cross my arms—"go fetch him for me.” I grumble under my breath, urging my eyes not to roll, " Please ."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Savannah ," Jesse says, holding out his hand as he smirks. "I'm Jesse Paxton, Vice President."
I grit my teeth together, dismissing his peace offering. " Where is my brother? "
He laughs softly, rubbing the nape of his neck. "Rad"—he smiles at me—"or Beau, as you call him, is out on business."
I blink. "Out on business? What does that even mean?"
"Means he's not here, babe," Jesse says, nodding at the doors. "You can come back in a week. He should be back by then."
My jaw drops. "A week? No. Call him up and tell him to come back right now ." Jesse simply stares at me. "Well? Go on. Call him."
"You..." He looks around the clubhouse, brows pinched together as if he's trying to solve a complex equation. "You're fucking with me, right? Are you trying to tell me what to do?" He chuckles in disbelief. "In here ?" He looks over at Yeti. "Brother, you might be on to something."
"I'm not trying to tell you what to do, Jesse," I state, tilting my head up high. "I am telling you what to do."
"Where the fuck did you find this chick?" Jesse asks Yeti, pointing his thumb at me. "Is this shit for real?"
"Fuck if I know." Yeti shrugs. "She just...popped up."
"Listen," I say, exhaling sharply. "I have come a long way from Alabama, okay? I just need?—"
"A drink," Jesse finishes my sentence. "Or a sedative," he mumbles quietly under his breath as he walks over to the little self-serve bar and leans over, grabbing a cold Budweiser.
Almost skeptically, he passes the beer can to me.
"Here, take a seat." He gestures to a torn-up leather seat. "Relax for a minute, yeah?"
Beer? He’s offering me beer ? At a time like this?
"I can't drink liquid bread," I whine, slumping over the bar front. "Lord help me. What is happening right now?"
"So you're from Alabama, huh?" Jesse muses, ignoring my whimpering as he cracks open the beer and takes a sip. "Interesting. A southern girl." I crane my neck toward him, one eye shut. He stifles a chuckle. "Damn, you have come a long way, babe. You look a little rough."
"Babe?" I roll my eyes, lethargically spinning my body around as I plop down on the stained stool.
"Alright there, darlin' ." Resting my arm on the counter, I swipe my finger along the thick layer of settled dust, and cringe.
"Gross." I wipe my dirty fingers on Jesse's jeans, scowling at him.
"There really is nothin' Southern about Southern California, is there?
Y'all are in desperate need of a woman's touch. "
Jesse licks his lips, letting out an amused laugh as his gaze darts to the three grungy biker chicks sitting in the corner of the clubhouse, all of 'em staring at me like I’m a dang circus act. "We got plenty of women here, darlin' ."
I bat my lashes like a brat. "Really? Cause I don't see any."
“Careful, those are fighting words around here, Savannah.” Jesse smirks. "You're not in Alabama anymore. Might want to watch what you say, babe."
“Is that a threat?” I scoff. This day is turning out to be a doggone disaster. “ Darlin' , my granddaddy took me hunting when I was eight years old ; I'm not scared of a little cat fight."
“Yeah? I’d pay to see that,” Jesse says with a grin. "What do you say? Should I call them over? I’ll give you real good odds.”
"Hilarious." After fifteen years of martial arts and gymnastics training, I could probably whoop a couple of asses, but my battery needs a recharge.
I need to meditate. Or nap. Probably both.
"Maybe tomorrow, okay? When I'm more rested.
" With a huff, I hoist myself up to my feet.
"Alright, I'm pretty tired now, so if you'll get my bags and show me to my room, I would be much obliged. "
"What?" Jesse frowns. "Your room ?"
"Yes," I say, sighing. "Where might that be?" I scowl, looking around the clubhouse. "Something without a strong, foul odor would be preferable, but I think that's a big ask."
Jesse blinks. "You really must be crazy if you think you're staying here," he says. "Do you even know where you are, babe?" He cocks his head, concerned. "Does this look like a hotel to you?"
"Not one I'd pick to stay in," I mutter. "But beggars can't be choosers. So? Which way?"
He expels a low chuckle, studying me warily. "You can't stay here, Savannah."
I cross my arms. "Why not?"
"Because..." He narrows his eyes, searching for a reason. "You're not?—"
"Not what?" I ask, raising a brow. "Tattooed or drunk enough?"
"Something like that." He grins. "Plus a couple of other requirements."
"Fine," I say in a clipped tone, my brain energy circling the dang drain. "If I can't stay here, then I'll stay with you."
He blinks, placing his beer on the counter as he stands up. "Hard no." He nods to the swinging doors. "There's a motel ten minutes away. You can stay there. Hell, I'll even drive you."
"Listen here, Jesse Paxton. I am not leaving without my brother, so either I stay with you, or I stay here. The choice is yours." I tap my foot. Seeing as I have no cash and no credit cards, there really is no other choice. "Well?"
Jesse stares at me with an unreadable expression. "You're not going to leave, are you?"
"Darlin', I'm like a weed; there's no getting rid of me. And if you do, I'll just come back stronger and more resistant. "
"You do realize that you're in a room full of guns and violent men, right?"
"Then I'm right at home." I extend the handle of my carry-on. "Shall we go now?"
He peers down at me with a strange smile. "Yeah, I think it's time to go." Victory surges through me for a fleeting moment before I'm suddenly airborne—Jesse grabs hold of my waist and hoists me over his wide shoulders with effortless ease. "Tiny, grab the princess's bags, will ya?"
"What are you doing?! Put me down, you big oaf!" I yell, flinging my arms and legs as Jesse carries me through the clubhouse, into the parking lot, and out of the fenced side door. "In Alabama, this is considered harassment! Put me down right now!"
"You want down?" Jesse plops me on the sidewalk as Yeti hands him my suitcase. "You're down."
"What are you doing?" I ask, fixing my tangled hair as I glare up at him. "I do not appreciate being manhandled like that! Apologize immediately."
"Definitely loony," he mumbles, narrowing his almond eyes at me as he nods up the road. "Motel's called the Sunny Inn." He backs up through the door, chaining the lock as he grins. "See ya in a week, babe."
"But—" Without another word, Jesse and Yeti turn their backs on me, and I'm left standing alone in front of the gates. "Jesse! Jesse, come back!"
Nothing. Not even a glance. It’s like I’m a piece of useless trash. Tossed away and forgotten. With a whimper, I sink down to my knees and sit on the grimy ground, pulling my suitcase closer to my person as the sun sets around me.
This trip isn't going according to plan at all.
I grip my phone tight, noticing the low battery sign.
Oh, shoot... What am I supposed to do now?
I have no money. No place to stay. And no Beau.
I could call Momma. I probably should call Momma.
Dang, it. But I can't—I can't do it. She'd win, and she can't win; I can't listen to another lecture on how everything I do is wrong.
I can't. Bringing my legs up to my chest, I rest my cheek on my knees, eyelids growing heavy by the second.
I'll just rest for a minute. Just a few minutes. Just until I figure out what to do next...
I'll figure it out... I'll...
"Hey!"
I groan as my shoulder shakes.
"Hey, wake up." More shaking. "Princess, wake up! For fuck’s sake..."