8. Taylor
Chapter eight
Taylor
Saturday nights we usually close The Rusty Pelican at midnight, but tonight Kayla said I could leave at nine. Any other night, I’d probably argue with her, but I’m exhausted. It’s been one hell of a week.
Coming home has awakened mixed feelings in me. I hate the reason for it. Mom being sick is terrifying. It’s hard to allow myself to smile or even sleep, knowing this could be the end. I pray it’s not.
I hate not being in control, and that’s something I have to accept with this.
On the other hand, leaving Norfolk was a godsend. I needed a way out; I just hate that it had to come with my mother being sick.
Being back home is bittersweet. There are so many good memories, but with the passage of time, so much has changed; somehow it feels like a different place. Like the town has moved on without me.
And then there’s Player.
Seeing him again fills my stomach with butterflies. We have so much history. He was such a huge part of my life, but he ripped my heart out.
I never understood why. We were so close. Soulmates, I thought.
But then the club took over his life.
The only explanation I could come up with was that he dumped me so he could sleep around, so he could enjoy all the fruits and benefits of being a patched member of the Kings of Anarchy, and that includes a line of women ready to do anything for them.
I have to admit, that leather cut on him sure made all the girls’ heads turn.
It was like a rockstar entered every time he walked into a room.
He was already gorgeous with his surfer good looks, blond hair and beach tan.
Add to that his growing stature and broad shoulders, but then wrap it all in delicious leather and a Kings of Anarchy patch, and he was irresistible.
It killed me to see him with other girls after we broke up, and then to hear he married someone so soon after. It was devastating.
Leaving for college in Norfolk was my escape.
Meeting David was my downfall.
A customer slides his empty longneck forward on the bar, and I grab him a fresh one from the cooler.
“Thanks, doll.”
I sense movement to my left as someone slips onto a barstool. Turning, I freeze when I see it’s Player.
He gives me a wink. “Can I get one of those, doll?”
Obviously, he just heard my other customer call me that, and he’s ribbing me.
I reach into the cooler, pull a bottle out, pop the cap and set it before him. Ice slides down the brown glass. “Four bucks.”
He passes me a credit card. “Start me a tab, will ya?”
I take it and turn toward the register, my mind whirling. What the hell is he doing here?
When I return and pass him the card, he grabs my hand. “What time do you get off tonight?”
“What’s it to you?”
“We need to talk.”
“I’m not interested.” I pull free and walk away. I notice the other customer’s eyes shift between me and Player. The look on his face tells me he wants to ask if I’m okay, but the patch on Player's cut probably is what keeps him quiet.
I walk to the other end of the bar. “Kayla, change sides with me.”
She looks past me, spots Player and grins. “Not a chance, kiddo. He’s your problem.”
“Bitch.”
“Back-atcha.”
I glance at Hal, but she snaps at me.
“Don’t even think about it. Hal is manning the deck. It’s crowded out there.”
Music from the small band we hired carries through the sliders.
I stick my tongue out at my sister, but she just grins, and I return to my side of the bar.
A rowdy group of young guys comes in the front door and takes a table. I grab a pad and head around the bar to take their order.
One man with neon sunglasses pushed atop his head smiles a drunken smile and wraps an arm around my thighs. “Hey, darlin’.”
I push him off and move to his friend, keeping my distance.
When I’ve taken all their orders, I return to the bar and see Player is watching them.
For once, I appreciate he’s here. I know with every fiber of my being that he would never let anything happen to me, and he won’t let these assholes harass me.
He eyes the kid in the sunglasses; he must have seen him manhandle me. Player may cut the kid some slack once, since I handled the situation, but if it happens again, I know Player will be all over the guy. And it won’t make a difference that there are four of them and one of him.
Besides, the leather cut would probably make the other three pause.
One of the drunk guy’s buddies gets up from the table and comes to the bar, standing at the end where Player sits.
When I approach to see what he wants, the guy apologizes.
“I’m sorry for my buddy. He’s drunk. It won’t happen again. Here, let me take the beer to the table.”
I pass him the four longnecks, and he threads them through his fingers and passes them out to his friends. I see him bend over the drunk one and say something in the guy’s ear, then return to his seat.
A busboy from the kitchen brings out their order, so I don’t have to do it, but I still go and check to see if there’s anything they need.
I paste on a fake smile. “How is it? Can I get you any extra sauce?”
The one who apologized to me answers for the table. “We’re good. Thanks.”
I’m about to return to the bar when his drunk friend grabs my wrist.
“Don’t go, pretty girl. Give me your number. I’ll take you out on my boat and show you a good time.”
His friend immediately grabs his hand and pulls me free. “Leave her alone, Phil. You’re drunk. Eat your damn food and shut up.”
“Fuck you, Nick. This is between me and her.” He shoves his friend’s hands away and spills his beer.
Player is off his stool and right there in a split second.
I step back, and he grabs the kid by the shirt, hauling him out of his seat. “You touch the lady again and I’ll punch your lights out, fuck-wad Phil.”
Phil staggers but tries to shove Player off him. “Let go of me, you fucking dickhead.”
“How’s it feel to be manhandled, asshole? You like it?”
“We’re sorry. I’ll get him home,” Nick says, standing. “Come on, guys.”
“Somebody better get their fucking credit card out and pay for all this, and there better be a damn good tip for this girl,” Player snaps.
“Yes, sir.” Nick pulls out his wallet, while his other two friends drag Phil outside.
I ring him up and bring him his card. When I do, he’s still apologizing to Player.
“We shouldn’t have brought him in here. I thought food would sober him up.”
“She’s the one who’s owed the apology. Bring him back tomorrow to give her one,” Player growls, pointing a finger in the guy’s face.
“That’s not necessary,” I say. “Really.”
“Yeah, Taylor, it is,” Player snaps.
I roll my eyes, wanting them just to be gone.
After they leave, I twist to Player. “I could have handled that. He’s not the first drunk I’ve dealt with, you know.”
“The point is, you shouldn’t have to handle that. You shouldn’t be subjected to it at all.”
Kayla walks over, obviously having seen the whole thing, and looking pleased with Player. “Why don’t you knock off for the night, honey? Hal and I have got it covered.”
A bus boy is already clearing the table for me.
“Good idea,” Player says. “I’ll walk you out.”
Before I know it, Kayla is shoving my purse at me and taking my apron, and I’m being herded out the door.
“I don’t like you here late at night,” Player says as we move toward the parking lot.
“This is a tourist town, a beach town. Kids get drunk, but bad things don’t happen here.”
“Don’t kid yourself. Evil is everywhere.”
I don’t want to believe that, but I know he’s right. Even where you least expect it.
“Take a walk with me.”
I frown and drop my shoulders. “Why? To talk?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re not going to leave me alone until we do, are you?”
“Nope.”
I sigh. “Fine.”
He takes my hand and threads his fingers with mine, and we cross the street. There’s a side street that has a beach access at the end of it. It’s just a short block, and he leads me that way. It’s almost nine, but it’s much warmer than it was the day I saw him at the cemetery.
I’m wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and I’m not cold at all. I can feel the heat of the day radiating from the pavement.
I always loved this time of night when I was in high school. Just after dusk had fallen, but still early enough that the town was still alive.
There’s a narrow wooden boardwalk leading from the end of the street over the dunes to the beach. We pass another couple exiting, and a man with fishing gear following them.
When we get to the beach, there are several bonfires lit up and down the sand. A group to our left all sit on low chairs around one, and a family off to our right is toasting marshmallows.
A couple walks along the surf with a golden lab on a leash. The moon is low on the horizon, reflecting a glittering path across the water. The sound of the surf is soothing, and we come to stand at the water’s edge.
“Tell me about your mom. What’s wrong with her?” Player asks softly.
“Cervical cancer.” I hate saying the words out loud. Somehow it makes it more real.
“I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s been hard on you. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Not really.”
“How is it being back home?”
I shrug. “Good and bad. The house is the same—even my room is unchanged—but the town is so different. There are so many new businesses I don’t know.”
“A lot of the old ones are still here. Some are ingrained in this town. The ice cream place, the beach bars that have been here since the fifties… I don’t see those ever going out of business. They’re a tradition around here.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“Even your pop’s place. The Rusty Pelican is part of this town.”
I nod and rub my upper arms. With the wind off the ocean, I feel a misty chill.
Player has a hoodie on under his cut, and he shrugs out of his leather, then pulls the hoodie off and passes it to me. “Here. Put this on.”
He slips his cut on over the t-shirt he had underneath, and I don’t argue with him, accepting the gesture.
The moment the soft sweatshirt material goes over my head and down, I’m enveloped in his scent. A woodsy, leather scent I know is part the soap he uses and part his leather, and all him.