Chapter Fifteen
LUNAR
A Week Later
Today is New Year’s Day, and I spent last night with the Recoil boys.
They performed at the Entertainment Center in Adelaide with many other performers for a New Year’s spectacular celebration.
Techie and Luke lined up the gig, but of course, Techie couldn’t be there as he had to be at the clubhouse for New Year’s celebrations—biker code and all that.
But Luke was there, and it went smoothly.
It was for charity, and it got me thinking. I know doing the merch stand has proven to be a reliable source of income, but I will need more to leave the club for good. I have to keep supporting Mom and Stuart, so I need financial stability, and it weighs heavily on my mind.
As I lie in bed with Danger, I have a hangover, but my mind is clear. “How hard would it be to set up a charity foundation? One where the funds from what you do help raise awareness of autism. And then could help people go to schools to instruct teachers and students about children with autism?”
He shifts beneath me and raises a brow. “I have no idea, but if we talk to the right people, we could get something done. What are you thinking?” he asks, and I smile.
“Yeah. I think it could tie in with how music can be a relaxant for those with autism. Recoil could be like a major supporter of the foundation?”
He offers a hesitant smile, but his eyes betray his uncertainty. “I want to say yes, but this is bigger than me. We’ll need to discuss this with the band. Plus, I can’t ignore that Nate still holds a grudge over the breakup of Recoil. And I don’t blame him. What’s your motive here, Lunar?”
I take a deep breath and explain. “Absolutely, that makes sense. Forming a foundation could be a way to employment. Of course, the primary proceeds would support the foundation’s cause, but I could manage it.
The money would help me to step away from the club.
It’s about thinking outside the box… I want to do something good, but also, by doing good, help myself. ”
“Well, yeah, I get it. Believe me, I am supportive and know you will be fantastic, but I’m also about making sure the band is on board and happy with the decision.
I’m past the days of going solo on decisions like I once would have.
They gotta feel like they’re a part of every decision made.
So, after talking with the guys and if they approve, the next step will be to make a solid business plan that we will unanimously decide on. ”
“Understood. Completely. So I need to talk with the band first? Draw up a business plan with Techie’s help. And if everyone is on board, we can go from there?”
Danger nods. “Sounds good. I’m behind you. The plan should state that the main focus is raising funds for autism, but the undertone should be that it’s good for the band. Show the boys how it can benefit them and why they should do it.”
“Right. Got it! Thanks. I think it would be better if Techie and I went it alone. Present the business plan in a way that the guys can’t say no. And above all, being mindful not to impact or strain your relationship with the guys.”
“Yes, I agree.” Danger smiles. “Go get ’em, gorgeous.”
After mind-blowing shower sex and eating a hot, fatty breakfast to counteract the effects of last night’s overindulgence, I head back to the clubhouse.
There’s a strange vibe in the air when I walk into the clubroom just before lunch.
Everyone is quiet, subdued, and nothing like the normal buzz that accompanies New Year’s Day.
Sure, they’re all hungover, but usually, there’d be a party atmosphere, the sounds of loud music, and a cook-up happening outside.
But there is nothing.
You could hear a pin drop.
And it’s unsettling.
I look to the bar for clues and notice Techie. He nods in acknowledgment as I approach.
“What’s going on? Why is everyone… so mopey?”
Right at that precise moment, Steel storms into the room, his boots stomping on the concrete floor.
He steps behind the bar, grabs the closest bottle, pushes over a stool, and heads back to his bedroom.
We hear the loud bang of his door closing, followed by a string of cussing, glass breaking, and something heavy being tossed at the wall.
I turn to Techie, my eyebrow raised in question. He exhales. “Willow left Steel last night,” he mumbles.
My expression darkens, and I furrow my brows. “What? Why?”
“Club stuff. You know I can’t say.”
I lighten the mood with a joke. “So he killed someone, and she found out?”
The way Techie’s eyes fall to the floor wipes the smile from my face. “Oh shit! He did, didn’t he?”
Techie nods. “Yeah, but keep it quiet. You know what she means to him.”
“Yeah, I do… should I go check on him?” My chest feels heavy, but instead of looking at it like it might be an opportunity to get Steel back, I think it’s sad because I have my path mapped out, and Steel… he’s lost his.
Techie shakes his head firmly. “He needs to be alone.”
Amidst the yelling and cussing, Steel storms back out of his room and over to me, pulling up a stool.
“You all right? Do you need anything?” I ask and place a hand on his knee.
Steel reacts instantly, pushing my hand away. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’? Get your nasty club girl hand off my fuckin’ leg. Are you that dense? I don’t want your pussy anywhere near me!”
“What?” I quickly snap my hand away, but his words sting, and his sudden hostility throws me. “I was only trying to help!”
“Well, I don’t need your fuckin’ help!” He gets up, slams the bar stool across the room where it embeds in the wall, and storms back to his bedroom while I sit here wondering what the hell I did to deserve that.
What I did to make him despise me so much.
I already figured out that Steel was using me.
The lightbulb illuminated, telling me I was the sucker who fell for an asshole who only kept me around to keep him happy.
At first, I was fighting it because the club is all I have known, but this little outburst from Steel is the absolute final straw.
This is what Danger has been saying all along.
I. Deserve. Better.
I’m worth more than what Steel thinks of me.
And this foundation is my way out of this godforsaken hellhole.
Techie slides closer, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “Don’t take it personally. Willow means a lot to him.”
“Well, okaaay. But he doesn’t need to treat me like that.
” And even though I try hard not to lose it, one tear slides down my cheek.
I think the realization that I have let my self-worth get to a point where I have allowed the men of this club to walk all over me and make me think less of myself is so fucking sad.
I turn to look at Techie. “Whatever, he’s not worth worrying about anymore,” I change the subject. “I wanna talk to you about something. I have an idea, and I need your help.”
He reaches out and wipes the stray tear away with his thumb. “Oh God, what trouble are you brewing now?”
“Shut up and help me. I’ve earned it after that bullshit.”
One Month Later
The foundation is now operational, and with Recoil’s expansion into the music industry, its publicity and visibility are growing. We even garnered attention from the news that covered our story.
When I told Mom my idea, she offered her support without hesitation. Stuart and Mom were so proud of me, which was incredibly rewarding.
But even more rewarding was finally being able to quit my job at Strapless.
It wasn’t easy. Techie and I stumbled more times than I like to recall and had numerous setbacks, but eventually, we got there. It was only through sheer determination and skill that we overcame everything and reached our goal.
Typically, a not-for-profit foundation can take up to six months to build, but thanks to Techie’s ingenuity, we discovered an existing dormant foundation that we repurposed and used to our advantage.
Needless to say, it still took a lot of creative accounting and skill to be able to pull off the unthinkable in such a short time.
Of course, while not all aspects of our approach were strictly legal, we will leave that aside for now, except I can now boast a strong credit rating and a solid work record and ethic that didn’t exist before. Plus, the band has impeccable records behind them now.
Techie helped me adopt a constitution and structure for the foundation. We have all the necessary government permits, and while I am exhausted, it’s a satisfying kind of exhaustion.
Recoil’s popularity is skyrocketing, with Danger becoming quite the heartthrob amongst his fans.
It’s a reality I’m slowly getting used to, but damn, is it tough not to show a twinge of jealousy at times.
Watching the girls hang on his every word can be unsettling, especially since we are not officially together.
With the time I’ve invested into the foundation and wanting to be with the band whenever I can, I find I’m spending less time at the club.
I want to leave.
My time there has run its course.
It’s become clear that my presence isn’t valued like it once was, and club members, except for Techie, barely acknowledge me now that I’m no longer serving a purpose for them.
I roll over in the bed next to Danger, and he smiles, running his hand up and down my arm. He kisses my head, and I sigh.
“Something on your mind?” he asks.
I swallow hard, wondering how he might take what I’m about to say, but I figure there’s no point in holding back, and I just need to say it. “Okay, so I’ve been thinking…”
He stiffens slightly. “Yeah?”
“How would you feel about me leaving the club for good? Coming with you guys when you leave on your tour of Australia and spending all my time with you while working on the foundation from the road? I could still manage the merch stands that way?” I blurt out, the words almost running together — I am talking that fast.
His Adam’s apple rises and falls when he swallows hard. “I mean, I’d love that, really—”
“But?” I interrupt, anxious for him to finish.