THREE
Tequila
The new prospect, Chain recruited, keeps staring at me. I notice whenever I glance back. In addition, he's been nursing the same beer for thirty minutes. I might have to resort to an Angel move and poke one of his eyes out with a pen if he doesn’t stop undressing me with them. Still, it’s impossible to ignore how painfully good looking the man is. I’d say his intense features and smoldering glare are hard to go unnoticed if he did not annoy me at the moment.
Angel whips her long, yellow braided hair behind her back, eyes the prospect, then slaps a stack of paint samples onto the bar. “Choose one.”
I fix my stare on the little squares of color. “Uh, what am I picking?”
“A shade for the living room. Before you say anything.” She holds up a hand. “No, I will not be moving in with Venom.”
Who was she fooling? She lives there now.
Once again, I glance at the plastic boards. “Really? Because isn’t picking out paint colors mean you are, in fact, moving in?”
“I'm sick of the same old white walls. If Venom thinks I’m going to be living in a colorless life, he’s got another thing coming. When! When I make the move.”
“Sure. Whatever you say.” I grin. “Since black like his soul is unlikely, I'd choose this one instead. It’s subtle.”
“Mmm. That could work. Thanks, girl.” She studies the square. “But don’t think I didn’t hear the dark soul jab.”
“I’m kidding. I know he found love and stuff . But you’re welcome. Because what are friends for? Except to help each other pick out paint colors for the house they aren’t moving into.”
Angel and Venom are a rare kind. But they couldn’t be any more perfect for each other. He was the last person we expected her to fall in love with, for sure. President of our once arch-rival biker club. Despite that, he changed his club for the better and is forever loyal and faithful to her.
“I enjoy being prepared. For when the day comes.”
I open my mouth to tell her the big day is already happening, but a loud laugh, more like an obnoxious giggle, echoes from across the room. It crushes me seeing Throttle with other women. It’s a sharp object through the chest, watching the hang-around suck his face.
Who can fault her? I just wish it didn’t hurt so bad.
I pretend to see nothing and distract myself with something, anything, behind the bar.
“I think it’s time for you to move on from this unhealthy crush you have,” Angel states, rolling her eyes at Throttle’s display.
“I do not know what you’re talking about.”
“I get it. You always say that, but we all know the truth. Quit trying to deny it. It's pointless.”
Frozen in place, I hold a glass under the warm, soapy water. “What do you mean, you all know?” Oh, God. All I need is for everyone to find out and for it to get back to Throttle.
“Oh, come on, girlfriend. The entire club knows about the two of you.”
“There is no us.” I wince, pathetically.
Angel agrees with a shrug. “The best solution to all this is a dose of Angel's remedy.”
“I don't think a career of being a hooker or escort is right for me. No offense.”
Those days are no longer part of her life. A life of secrecy. Stuck under the control of a mafia boss. Venom played a role in ensuring she would never have to endure such actions ever again.
“You’re hilarious. I enjoy your jokes, but... all I'm suggesting is for you to let a man take you out. If I have to witness you acting as a beaten puppy whenever Throttle is near a girl, I'll go mad. I hate seeing you hurt.”
She might be right. Every guy who's asked me out in the past year, I’ve rejected hoping for Throttle to confess his undying love for me. I can't keep waiting for something that will never happen.
“You’re off tomorrow night, right?” she asks, flipping her braid over her opposite shoulder.
“I am, but I should study. It's hard to manage.” If I let myself fall behind, it would be impossible to recover. Angel is one of the few who knows of my online schooling.
“I won’t keep you out until the wee hours of the morning. I promise.”
Before I have time to protest, Jules walks over, rubbing her small yet swollen belly. “Yes! Please take me. Wherever you’re going. I don’t care. Take me.”
Pregnancy suits her well. No one deserves the ever-after like her and Charger.
“Uh, your fiancé would kill me if he knew I took you to a bar. Carrying his unborn child. Yeah, sorry, pass.”
“What the heck? I can decide for myself.” Jules pauses. “You’re right, it’s a terrible idea.” With a sigh, she leans on the counter.
“I’m playing wing woman for Tequila,” Angel says.
“Oh! Now that’s a good idea. Get her mind off, manwhore, over there.”
“You guys make me sound pathetic.” I am. “You…” I point to Angel, who’s so eager to find me a date. “Fell in love with a guy who helped get Jules kidnapped. I’d say I’m still winning.”
“Ouch.” Angel defends herself, then smirks. “She’s right.”
“Yup. And I got pregnant in my senior year. We are not the poster inspiration for teenage girls anywhere.” Jules looks at me and shrugs.
I shake my head, taking one last look at Throttle before I decide to ignore him for the rest of the night.
I drive the twenty minutes back to my apartment without stopping at any red lights. When there's a drug deal happening on almost every street corner, the first rule is pretend like you spot nothing.
Bracing myself with pepper spray clipped to my keychain, I ascend the grungy sketchy stairs to my door. My neighborhood is clearly unsafe, even though I've never had to use my only weapon for defense. But being a single woman living here is terrifying.
With the sound of a siren filling the night, I make it to the third floor, kicking Frank in the hallway by accident.
“Hey, honey. Got a couple dollars to spare tonight?” Each word slurs as I step over his outstretched prosthetic leg.
“Frank, I'm sure you recall I gave you money the other day. Did you use it to buy alcohol again?”
“I’m saddened by the fact you would have such an opinion of me.” He dramatically holds his chest.
He has nothing in his life except vodka, and it makes me feel sorry for him. I'm convinced that the old man has a sad backstory. Such sorrow fills his eyes.
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you more cash, but only if you promise to use some of it and buy yourself food to soak up that alcohol.”
We all have something that keeps us going, but his poor habit might kill him one day.
He shows off his toothless smile. “Oh, honey, you’re a doll.”
Once I hand him the bucks from tonight's tips, I rush to unlock my apartment door.
Those same tattooed, questionable guys who've been present every night pause their conversation and fix their gaze on me down the hallway. “Hey, babe. When you gonna stop pretending like you don’t notice me and get that fine ass of yours over here?” The one they call Jasper sneers at me and my skin crawls.
Ignoring him, I enter and lock the door, shutting out their laughter. My head rests on the cold wood as I drown in my disgust for this place. I can't stand it, but it's the only thing I can pay for right now. Although Chain pays me fairly, I’m unable to sustain myself on a bartender's salary and afford to live in a luxurious apartment with school expenses and other bills. Yet, my place isn’t awful. Okay, it’s dreadful. Sections of the dry wall have fallen. I have a leaky pipe in the bathroom which my landlord can give two fucks about, and I’d say the mysterious scent is one I won’t ever get used to. Would it come as a surprise if mold infestation was causing my death? Not at all.
I leave the comfort of my door, approach Nemo, and switch on his tank light. His goofy little eyes beam up at me as if I’m his only friend in the world. “What do you think, buddy? Want me to buy you a friend?” He swims back under his rock. “No, I figured as much.” Being alone can have its advantages.
Stripping out of my clothes, I sigh and put on Throttle's baggy T-shirt. It always carries the same smell, woodsy with a dash of sport, if that’s even a thing.
Once I'm cozy on the couch, I reach for my laptop and check my school emails. All the grades from the last exam are up. I slide over the screen, search for my name, and excitement hits me when I catch sight of my A.
The wait will be worth it soon. My plan is to graduate, find a job, and escape to a less horrifying and revolting place. I aspire to be a teacher because I enjoy assisting others and adore children. It was rewarding to spend my junior and senior years in high school tutoring and pushing students toward their untapped capabilities. We all need a little boost from time to time.
I’m startled when my phone plays “Momma’s Song” and I hurry to answer it. “Hey, Mom. I was just going to text you.”
“I've always believed that we are on the same wavelength. How’s my girl?”
With a smile, I cross my legs and tuck my feet under me. I find solace by snuggling my pillow to my chest, attempting to conceal the overpowering emotion that arises whenever she calls. I miss her every day. When you're unable to visit family, the distance to New York can feel significant.
“Everything is perfect,” I lie. “How are you and Dad?”
“Oh, you know.” She sighs. No, I don’t, which saddens me. “Your father just dropped food off at your brothers. Still taking care of him. Even at twenty-one.” She chuckles, and it makes my heart ache not being able to hear it in person. “Those roommates of his can’t cook to save their lives. And your brother never could prepare a proper meal.”
“It sounds like Andrew.”
“Are you planning to come home for Thanksgiving this year? We miss you, Hazel.”
It was during the summer when we were all last together. I’ve been meaning to take the drive, but I’ve never had a chance and I’m running out of excuses why they can’t visit here. Hell would break loose if they saw where I live. And if they found out where I was bartending, they would drag me back to New York.
“Um, I’ll think about it. School has been overwhelming me this year.”
“Well, we’d love to see you.” Glasses shatter in the distance. “Dammit, I gotta go. That’s what happens when your father washes the dishes. Love you, honey.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
She ends the call and I'm left with emptiness in my heart.
I moved to Columbus so I could attend school there. Since that didn't work, I searched for the most affordable place to live, and that led me here.
While I was bartending at a rundown local bar, Maggie asked me to join her and her ol’ man. They forgot to mention that it was a biker club. Had they… I would have said no. But I was uneducated then.
Opening my laptop, I go straight to my school e-books. I try to skim the chapter my online instructor just covered, but I'm too unfocused.
I steal a glance at my phone, curious about Throttle. Then I realize he’s likely banging it out with the girl he was flirting with, and I get queasy.
I agree with Angel. I need to move on from him.