Chapter 9
Winter
Today was my therapy appointment. I couldn’t say I was looking forward to it, but I was resigned to make the most of this opportunity Fuse made for me. Sure, I freaked when he first told me about it yesterday. I think that I was just scared to talk about this stuff with strangers.
I made quick work of stocking the bar and wiped down all the tables.
The prospects who closed the bar last night did the floors, so I didn’t need to worry about that.
Everything looked nice, which was important because the Dark Slayers were having their weekly meeting and they were hosting another club who had come to talk to them about the situation with Viper.
I stood with my back to the counter staring at the door leading to the meeting room. They were as quiet as mice back there. If it weren’t for me, the Slayers would be happily living their lives instead of dealing with Viper and Vulture. I felt a little guilty about that.
The bell on the front door jingled, alerting me that someone had walked into the clubhouse. By the time I turned around a handsome biker was standing on the other side of the bar.
“Well, damn,” a voice said lightly. “Didn’t know the Slayers hired angels to run their bar.”
I was smiling before I realized it. This hot biker thought he was clever. He wasn’t a Dark Slayer. His cut said Savage Legion MC Prospect. He wasn’t hard around the edges the way most of the other men were. There was something open, playful and a bit reckless about the way he smiled at me.
“Are all the Savage Legion prospects hitting on women at the crack of dawn or is this more of a you thing?” I asked, looking him up and down.
He flashed me a cocky smile and threw me another line straight out of the beginner’s book on how to pick up women.
“Well, the brothers always say to shoot your shot while you can still aim.”
I laughed at his absurd words. “I think they might be referring to target practice rather than picking up women.”
His eyes lit up, and he leaned over the bar to get a better look at me.
“You know, I think you might be right about that.”
“Glad we could clear that up,” I deadpanned back, before picking up a cloth to dry a nearby glass.
He reached out a hand. “I’m Rick, by the way. I’m still workin’ on a good club name, so if anything interesting comes to mind, give me a shout out.”
I shook his hand and told him, “My name’s Winter. Nice to meet you.”
His expression turned serious. “I heard what happened to you,” he said. “Just so you know, Viper got his club name from being a fuckin’ snake in the grass. If you see him comin’ the best thing to do is cross the street.”
“Yeah, I already learned that lesson the hard way.”
“So, do ya have a life plan yet?”
“I work here,” I said evenly. “The Dark Slayers have been good to me. I didn’t see it at first, but they’re looking out for me.”
“That wasn’t the question,” he said carefully.
I didn’t really know what Rick was driving at with all the questions. I probably should have shut him down hard right off the bat. It’s just that he was disarmingly friendly, and I dropped my guard there for a minute.
I reached for a bottle of water and set it in front of him. “Are you here to drink or play twenty questions with me?”
He snorted a laugh and took the bottle. “Fair enough, I guess. It’s just that you don’t look like you belong in a clubhouse,” he said.
“Do any of us ever really look like we belong where we are? The Slayers offered me a place here and I took it. In my mind, that means I belong here.”
His expression blanked out and he stammered, “That’s not what I meant.”
He reached out then, as if he was going to touch my arm.
“I didn’t mean…”
I took an instinctive step back, just as a shadow moved behind him.
“You need to keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself, Prospect. Especially without asking first.”
Fuse’s voice sounded like he was leashing his fury.
Rick faced Fuse. “I didn’t mean any disrespect,” he stammered. “Sorry, it won’t happen again.”
Fuse moved forward and elbowed the prospect out of the way. “Just so you know, Winter is under my protection.”
Rick nodded once. “She wasn’t wearing a property cut, so I didn’t know.”
“Now that you know, I don’t expect you to be chatting her up. Thanks for the reminder about the cut. I’ll be fuckin’ fixin’ that.”
Rick excused himself, moving down the bar and sitting with one of the Savage Legion club brothers.
My heart was still beating wildly. I covered it by continuing to shine the glass in my hand to within an inch of its life. Having a mini panic response to that prospect reaching for me was embarrassing.
Fuse stood there for a long moment before he spoke.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You know, I can beat his ass if it makes you feel better.”
My head jerked up to look into his eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.
“No need,” I said honestly. “He wasn’t being gross. I think he was worried about me. I guess word got out about what happened to me and now everyone feels sorry for me. I overreacted.”
“They need to mind their own fuckin’ business,” he grumbled. “Being worried about you is my job, not his. And being all up in his feelings about what happened to you doesn’t give him the right to touch you without asking first.”
I set the glass down in the rack and picked up another from the drying rack.
“True. He’s gone now, so you can calm down now.”
He just stood there frowning at me. “Your meeting was over fast,” I said, by way of changing the subject.
His mouth twitched slightly. “We only had one order of business today. Want to guess what it was?”
Something warm rose to twine around my heart because I knew he wasn’t supposed to be talking to me about club business, but he was because it involved me. “Viper?”
“Yeah, that asshole is planning more than we ever gave him credit for.”
“Thank you,” I told him sincerely, “for speaking up with Rick and for working with your club to make sure Viper can never get me back. I don’t think you know how much I need you right now.”
His expression softened. “I know. And you don’t gotta thank me for doin’ what’s right.”
He was talking about saving me, raising a biker army to protect me. The things he talked about in the restroom. This was the moment it hit me that it wasn’t just a bunch of hero talk. It was him telling me in no uncertain terms exactly what he was willing to do for me.
The door jingled again and a smartly dressed woman walked into the room. Without taking my eyes off her, I asked, “Is that her, the therapist you got for me?”
“Yeah, that’s her alright. Her name is Dr. Kline. The old ladies say she’s the best in the area. You know where the conference room is, right?”
“Yep.”
Jerking his chin in that general direction, he said encouragingly, “Best get going. I have a surprise for you when you get finished. That is if you don’t end up setting the room on fire with that hot temper of yours.”
This was what Fuse was like when he’s joking around. To be quite honest, it looked good on him.
I set aside my cloth and glass before coming out from behind the bar. “Wish me luck,” I joked back.
When I went to leave, Fuse swatted me playfully on the ass. “You don’t need luck, darlin’. ‘Cause you’ve got grit.”
I found myself laughing at his antics. He’s treating me all bro like. It makes me think of how football players psych each other up with swats to the bottom.
I headed back to the little ten by ten room. It had a small square table and four chairs. More often than not, this room was used for storage, as they had a special room where they usually held church. When I stepped into the room, the woman came to her feet.
“You must be Winter,” she said pleasantly.
“Yes. And you must be Dr. Kline.”
“You can call me Elizabeth.”
She gestured towards the empty chair across from her. “Have a seat. We’ll talk a little about how I can help you.” Pausing for a second, she added, “Or you can stand, if you prefer.”
I sat because standing would be rude. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. I ran my hands down the front of my jeans, trying to stay focused.
Elizabeth opened a notebook and pulled out a pen. “I hope you don’t mind if I take notes.”
Take notes about me being trafficked. That was enough to make me hit the brakes. I came out of my seat and began backing towards the door. It was one thing talking about what happened. To see it written down made it real.
“I don’t think this is going to work for me,” I told her.
She snapped the notebook shut and put it into one of the empty chairs. “No notes then. Just you and me talking about whatever you need to. If you give me a chance, I really think I can help you like I have some of the other women here.”
I hesitated and then eased back down into the chair because she was listening to me and letting me have some control. That was enough to make me want to give her a chance.
When she didn’t talk, I realized she was waiting for me to start the conversation.
“I was trafficked,” I blurted out and then finished with the part that was a mind fuck, “And I don’t hate the man who bought me. Does that make me stupid or weak?”
Elizabeth didn’t look particularly surprised at hearing my deepest, darkest secret.
“It’s not important what I think. But I will tell you one thing. Very few things in life are what they seem at first glance. Why don’t you start at the beginning and explain what happened?”
I took a deep breath and just started talking, “My father sold me to settle a gambling debt. The man who bought me was a real asshole. He hit me went on and on about how much money he was going to make from auctioning me off. At first, I thought all bikers were like that and hated them all.”
“What happened after that?” she asked.
“That biker did exactly what he said he was gonna do. He sold me in an auction to another biker. Instead of cash exchanging hands, favors were traded between the two of them. They hashed it all out right in front of me like I wasn’t even there.”