Brett approached with a smile, as though hearing the direction my thoughts were taking. "You doing all right?" she asked, handing me a glass of water. "You look like you're taking it well."
I nodded, not wanting to upset her or ruin the delicate sort of friendship we were forming. I felt a strange kinship with her. Maybe it was her approachability. Or maybe it was the feeling that we both cared for Vince. We shared concern for him. Only, in my case, it was my fault he was getting into so much trouble. He tried to convince me otherwise, but deep down I knew it to be true.
I gave her what I hoped was a confident smile. "I'm doing my best, just like everybody else."
She nodded sagely. "That's all any of us can do." She looked around the room, and into the room where the poker game had taken place the night before. Now, a bunch of people were playing Monopoly. I stifled a giggle when I saw how seriously they were taking it. Who would have guessed the big, bad biker dudes would be so into a board game?
Brett saw me looking, and smiled. "It gets pretty intense," she murmured, nodding in their direction. "They can turn anything into a fight."
"Monopoly is a pretty intense game," I agreed, grinning. "And Uno. Ever play that?"
"Oh, Uno's been banned," Brett said, shuddering. "I mean it. You wanna see things get ugly? Vince said he never wanted to see a pack of playing cards in here again."
I laughed at the image of grown men fighting over a silly card game.
She shrugged after a moment. "At times like this, you have to do something to get your mind off of what's happening."
"Does this happen all that often? Being locked down, I mean?"
"Nah. It's not usually this dramatic. Every once in a while there's a flare-up. I mean, when the explosion happened a week ago, and some of the guys got killed, we were locked in overnight until Vince knew it was safe for us to leave. That was a scary night. I was glad to be here, with everybody."
That got me thinking. "What happened that night? I heard it was a bad drug deal or something like that."
Brett shrugged. "I don't know these things. We're not really allowed to know. I mean, the less they tell us-the girls and me-the less dangerous it is for us. And for the club, too. Who knows what would happen if another club got a hold of us and tried to get us to talk?"
"I know Vince shared things with you, though." She shot me a look that fell somewhere between surprise and defensiveness. I held up my hands. "I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that. Believe me. I just know you two are closer than the rest."
Brett's eyes turned back to the game. "The other girls … they want a good old man." Ah, I thought, so they do call it that. "But they're okay with looking around. They're not in any hurry to settle down. It doesn't matter if they bounce around from guy to guy." She took a deep breath, letting it out in a shaky sigh. "I never wanted anybody else. It never felt right."
My heart went out to her. I hoped Vince had been careful with her. Some men would have loved having a pretty girl like Brett hanging around them, without thinking of how it could affect their feelings. Vince didn't seem the type, though. I might not have known him well, but I had a strong feeling about him. If I thought he was the type to hurt her, I wouldn't have wanted anything to do with him.
She turned to me. "I wanted you to know, because he's not the type of person to tell you himself." Then she trailed off, suddenly shy.
"Tell me what himself?"
"Nothing happened between us last night. I don't know whether it matters to you or what, but if it does, I didn't want you to hate me or something. You know, thinking I was sleeping with your man."
I cocked my head to the side. "He's not my man."
She smiled, a little sadly. "Isn't he?"
Just then, a loud noise came from the Monopoly room.
"Told you," she muttered, hurrying in to break up the fight. I shook my head and laughed at a bunch of grown men getting into a fight over who had ownership of Park Place.
So they thought he was my man. Did he share that opinion? I warmed a little, flattered. I only wished I could be one hundred percent into the idea. His world was so risky.
I was alone in the lounge, still a fish out of water. There wasn't much for me to do. I wished I at least had a few books with me, or a phone that actually worked. I wondered if there were any emails awaiting my attention, or any texts. My fingers were itching for something to do.
Then, I thought about the laptop in the office. It was still open and, on peering into the empty room, I saw it was unlocked. I wondered if anyone would care if I used it for personal reasons and decided it couldn't hurt. It was like losing part of my arm, not having tech at my fingertips. I felt disconnected.
Facebook would be the place to go, I decided. A few minutes of checking in with my friends' feeds, taking a mindless quiz or two, and I felt better. I wondered briefly if I should check in with my mom to let her know I was all right. She might have tried to call, could be worried after not hearing back from me. We talked fairly regularly. I didn't want her to be worried.
Then again, assuring her I was all right might only worry her more. I tapped my fingers on the desk, wondering what to do. For all she knew, I could have been sleeping in or out with friends. She had no idea how close I'd come to real danger. Why should I upset her? I could just tell her my phone broke and I couldn't get in touch. That wasn't really a lie, thanks to the way I landed on it.
Then, she made up my mind for me. A little box popped up at the bottom of the screen. It was Mom. Crap. She'd found me, and just as I was about to log off.
Erica! Where are you?
I squinted at the screen. Where would I be? We talked frequently, but it wasn't as though we were joined at the hip.
I replied, Sorry, my phone broke, and I have to get it replaced. What's up?
Almost immediately, Your father's hurt. He's at the hospital. I've been trying to reach you for hours!
My heart took off at a gallop. What's wrong with him?
Her reply, Too much to get into. Just get here as fast you can.
Crap! My eyes darted to the open door, and the people outside. Onyx was among them, and he looked in my direction once or twice. No way I was getting past him. No way he would let me go, even with a chaperone. Vince's rules, after all. Onyx was only there to enforce.
But I had to go! I thought about my poor dad, in the emergency room, hurt. Mom made it sound like a real emergency, too. What if he died and I wasn't there? I couldn't live with myself if that were the case.
I glanced out the door again and saw that the action had moved back into the smaller room off the lounge. Tempers seemed to have cooled off-I didn't hear any more yelling. With one eye still on the open door, I called the cab company I'd used the night before and gave them the address of the clubhouse, which I found on a piece of mail in the drawer.
I then thought better of my plan. I turned in the chair, looking out the window. "There's a warehouse two blocks from here with an American flag out front. Please have the driver meet me there." If a cab pulled up in front of the building, everyone would notice. I had to get out before they saw me.
The front door was across from the stairs, just beyond the game room. It seemed like things were going better now. I thought that if I pretended to be on my way upstairs no one would pay attention. It was now or never. I had no time to lose.
I walked casually past the room, hoping no one would notice. Only somebody did.
"Where you goin'?" I turned to find Onyx staring intensely at me. Vince had been right about one thing-it was getting easier to see him and not just the scarring on his face.
"Upstairs," I said. "Bathroom." I shrugged like there was nothing out of the ordinary.
He wasn't so convinced, I could tell, but what could he do? My heart was in my throat. What if he decided to escort me? Or if he demanded I take one of the girls with me? No, there was no reason for that. Still, it was a struggle to keep cool during the long moment in which he fixed me with his stare.
Then he shrugged and went back to the game. He wasn't playing so much as he was keeping things under control. I let out a sigh of relief.
With his back to me, and his body blocking most of the doorway leading to the game, I thought it was the perfect chance to sneak out. No one around the table would see me. I waited until a loud burst of laughter carried out into the lounge and opened the front door, then slipped out and closed it behind me without so much as a sound. So far, so good.
Then I took off running. I was wearing the clothing I'd been in the night before, and I pulled the sweatshirt's hood over my head as I went. As I went, all I could think about was my dad. I saw him lying on a gurney, tubes in him, monitors beeping. What could have happened to put him there? He was hurt? How? She hadn't even said what kind of accident he had, if he fell or was hit by a car or in a car accident. Every thought made me sicker to my stomach.