Murmurs of agreement surrounded him.
"Is there anything the group can do to make this time easier for you, Snake?" Bryan asked.
He shook his head. "Just listening is plenty."
"I think it'd be wise for you to make sure you have a buddy right now. It's something to consider," he said.
Snake nodded.
"What's a buddy?" Estelle asked.
"Someone you trust to call when you feel yourself becoming too overwhelmed. We all have them," Bryan replied.
Estelle nodded. It was her turn. She toyed with the belt of her black trench coat.
Bryan smiled at her, a soft expression on his face. "You don't have to talk tonight, Estelle. We're here to support you and allow you to go at your pace."
She glanced up at Snake, almost as if she needed reassurance. Snake nodded. He wasn't sure why she was so fearless. Most women shied away from him. It felt … nice. That was a dangerous emotion to indulge.
As they wrapped the session, he stood and stretched. Jason hovered in the doorway, eyeballing Estelle like a dog in heat. Fuck.
"Can I walk you to your car?" Snake asked.
Her eyebrows arched. "I … yeah, sure," she replied with a shrug.
"Be seeing you," Snake said to the others, quickly ushering her out the door.
"Estelle, I wanted to offer myself up as your buddy," Jason said.
"Oh-"
"She can't. We already agreed we'd be each other's check in point," Snake said.
Jason scowled. "Is that true, Estelle?" he asked.
"Yes, sorry," she answered.
Good girl. Snake placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her out of the church.
"You didn't seem comfortable around, Jason. It's why I jumped in. I'm not the type to strong arm anyone to get my kicks."
"I wasn't. I appreciate you stepping in. I wasn't expecting to deal with that at a grief meeting," she admitted as they stepped out into the evening air.
"Most women flock to him."
"Exactly why he made me wary. Men that are used to yes, and woman being interested in them tend to have over-inflated egos."
"You got good instincts. He likes to hit women at their most vulnerable. It'd be smart to keep him at a distance, and let him know you're not interested."
Her brow furrowed. "I thought I did."
"He doesn't understand subtle hints," Snake said.
"Just great."
"Other than him, the group's good."
"Yeah?" She cocked her head to the side as she looked at him.
"It's hard being new. But if you stick with it, that fades, and you find a group of people who can say they understand what you go through without bullshitting you."
"Is that why you come?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"This is me," she said, gesturing to the black BMW in the parking lot.
He whistled. "Nice ride."
She shrugged. "It gets me from point A to point B."
In style no less.
"Are you really going to be my buddy?" she asked.
"Do you want me to be?"
"I promised my doc I would be all in with this, so yes."
"All right. Let me see you cell phone."
He typed his number into her cell and called his own, saving her number.
"There you go. You get into a tight spot, and need to talk, call me."
She nodded. "Same for you."
He smirked. "Yeah, all right."
He waited as she unlocked her door and slid inside.
"See you around, Estelle," he said, tapping her hood as he walked over to his bike. He got on and pulled out of the parking lot knowing the refined woman would never place a call.
CHAPTER TWO
Estelle
I like bartending. She studied the quick pour the teacher demonstrated and did her best to emulate the technique as she counted silently in her head. The last thing she wanted to do was over pour and cut into the bar's profits. She'd watched enough Bar Rescue to know that was a huge no-no. The highly addictive show had given her a crash course on what made a good bartender in the real world. School could only teach you so much, the rest was tricks of the trade and charisma. The thought of inventing a "work personality" appealed to her. Task completed, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at her accomplishment.
She threw herself into the classes head first. Recipes, ingredients, portion, and pours were logical. They made sense. She could wrap her brain around them. At the end of the day she felt a sense of worth. The class was full of people younger than her and friendly. They had no clue who she was or what she'd been through. Being anonymous rocked.
"Good job, Estelle," Patrick, her instructor, said.
She flashed him a small smile and placed the bottle down. She'd be able to wow the customers with the best of them once she graduated. The thought of working somewhere small and a little wild kept her optimistic. Maybe if she spent the day listening to everyone else's problem, her own would remain at bay.
"I think that's it for the day. You guys are doing really well. I don't see any of you having a problem finding a job after you get your certificates. I hope you'll take advantage of the job placement assistance we offer."
Her heart sank. Today had gone by too fast. She wasn't ready to leave. Anxiety gnawed at her insides. The classes were at night, which made it about eleven. There were no coffee shops to linger in, or books stores to browse at. Short of walking around the twenty-four-hour grocer aimlessly, she was screwed. Her stomach gurgled as she gathered her folder, and purse, and said her good-byes. Conversation rose around her as students chatted happily.
Envy turned her pea green. Each of them had lives to get back to. She'd attended the grief meetings once a week. They helped, even if she didn't always speak. She hadn't seen Snake since the first night, which bothered her more than it should. The tattooed biker had a magnetic quality about him. From the minute she stepped in the room, she'd felt a strong pull in his direction.
He was the furthest thing from Everett and the crew she came up with. She liked that most. Honesty and frankness were qualities she craved. The abandonment, dismissal, and cruelty she'd faced at the hands of her friends changed her perception of the world. He had the look of a man one would call a straight shooter. She preferred his bluntness to nicely decorated lies.
She unlocked her car, slipped behind the wheel, and did her best to keep her emotions from spilling over. Today her baby girl, Emma, would've been two had she made it to her birthdate. She forced herself to start the car, and pull away. Last thing I need is anyone asking me what's wrong. Her phone flashed. She had two missed messages. Mom and Jolene. While she loved both women, she couldn't talk to them. Their gentle, well-meaning words would make her scream her throat raw. Tears flooded her eyes, and the road wavered. She pulled over on a side street. Her chest ached; her head pounded. She gripped the wheel and coughed as her body shook. She had nowhere to go and no one to call.
The hiccups began, and she knew from experience she had to calm down, or she'd be ill. Choking back her sobs, she glanced up at the ceiling. Ignorance was bliss. She'd been so caught in her misery last year the loneliness hadn't registered. She wrapped her arms around her waist and rocked back and forth in an attempt to self-sooth. I have to be stronger than this. The image of Snake flashed in her mind. He was her buddy. Everyone needs a support group. She beat back the self-deprecating mental talk and clung to Dr. Nimoy's teaching. No more relapses. This year I move on. Reaching across the center console, she grabbed her phone. Her hand shook as she pressed Snake's name. Sucking down air, she tried to calm herself while the phone rang.
"Estelle? You okay?" His gruff voice was the answer to an unspoken prayer.
"S-Snake." The sound of loud rock and rowdy men nearly drowned out his baritone. A party during the week?
"Hold on, I need to take this outside."
She sniffed, swiping at her eyes as she concentrated on the lifeline he'd extended the minute he answered her call. I'm not alone anymore.
"You still there?" he asked.
"Y-yes."
"What's going on?"
"T-today would've been my daughter's second birthday."
He whistled. "Those are always the hardest to get through. The significant days, huh?"
She nodded. He understands. "Where are you right now?"
"I-I don't know. I pulled over, so I didn't wreck."
"Take a deep breath, girl. You're okay. You don't have to go through this shit alone this year." His voice was comforting. She differed to his dominance, grateful to have a guiding voice.
She gulped down air, taking back more control.
"Better?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Look around and tell me what you see," he instructed.
"I'm near Downton off of Vine Street," she said, taking in the rundown buildings yet to be renovated. They'd cleaned up the once urban area, but there were spots that had yet to get the makeover treatment.