"Not a good place to be this late at night."
"I don't want to go home," she whispered. Her face was on fire as she forced the words out, ashamed of the truth. Her shoulders slumped and she fixed her gaze on the steering wheel.
"I can understand that. How about you come to me?"
His words gave her pause. "Me come to you?" Hope flooded her.
"Yeah, why not?"
"I don't want to impose-"
"Bullshit, babe. You didn't call me to talk over the phone."
"I don't know why I called you," she said honestly.
"Because you need someone, and for some reason you trust me. Which is why I'm going to give you my address. You're going to come over, and we'll get through this night together. You're already ahead of the game. You reached out. Trying to do this alone leads to more pain and bad decisions. I don't want to see you go down that road. Trust me, I did it enough for the both of us."
"Where did it take you?" she asked, speaking without thinking.
He sighed. "Down a bottle and behind a cell with assault charges."
Her eyes widened. "Oh."
He snickered. "Oh, she says. You ready to listen to me now?"
His candidness cracked open her shell.
"Yes."
"Good girl. You got a pen and paper?"
She dug in her purse, pulling out a pen and tiny notebook. "Uh huh."
"Okay, take down my address." She jotted down his information. "You're about thirty minutes away. I'll be out front waiting for you, all right?"
"Yes. Snake?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"Don't need to thank me for shit. I know your pain. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy or leave you alone to deal with it. I know we ended up thrown together at the group. I'm not much for being anyone's buddy. But support I can do."
They disconnected, and she sat up in her car and wiped away her tears. Clearing her throat, she re-started the car, pulled out of her parking space, and hit the road. The farther she got from the city lights, the better she felt. The darkness was a welcoming friend. You could hide all your insecurities, flaws, and tears in its inky velvet. Slowing to make sure she found the drive, she turned off the main road. Is this a fortress or something? She didn't know much about Motorcycle Clubs. She'd never been into the T.V. shows that depicted them, but she knew they weren't people who tolerated disrespect, or people in their business.
Shame washed over her. She hadn't expected Snake to be so kind. Snake, I wonder how he got that name? She'd noticed the brightly done traditional style snake tattoo that peeked out of his white T-shirt. But something told her the name came before the tattoos. What am I doing coming here? I don't even know his real name. I used to be smarter. She hesitated at the bend, just before the curve that would lead her to the building she saw in the distance.
The bond she felt with Snake made no sense. She knew next to nothing about the man, other than his story. It was more connection than she held with anyone else, which had to mean something. That I've finally gone off the deep end. This man doesn't run in the same circles I'm used to. She paused. And maybe that's the best thing of all. The old Estelle was timid and soft-spoken. This time around she would be bold, and fearless. Because a life lived carefully and overthought, was not any safer.
Events unfolded unpredictably no matter how you tried to stack the odds in your favor. Clearing her throat, she flexed the muscles in her arm, cracked her neck, and pushed the pedal moving the car forward. Snake was leaned against the wall outside in a black pea coat. His collar was upturned, and he had a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He's a new age James Dean. With his tattoos covered he was downright striking.
His broad shoulders filled out the coat, and his dark hair was slicked back from his face. Never one for beards, she had to admit the neatly groomed facial hair added to his rustic appeal. The gentle smile he gave her changed his demeanor drastically. His lips curved upward, and his eyes lost their coldness. The transformation took the edge off her internal panic. Whoever this man was, he cared for some godforsaken reason. That's what mattered. Life wasn't black and white. She wouldn't continue to live by absolutes and preconceived notions. It was all about what a person showed you. Pulling up in front of him she cut the engine, unsure of what to do next as he stalked toward her door with the predatory grace of a lean jungle cat.
Hypnotized by his movement, she remained in the car.
He opened up the door and leaned in. "You getting out or you plan on staying there all night?"
"I haven't decided yet."
He snickered. "Fair enough, but I imagine it's going to get pretty cold in a minute. You nervous?"
She looked up at him and shrugged.
"Think of it this way … you know the worst thing that's ever happened to me. That's more than most of my brothers can say."
"You have siblings?"
He laughed. "Naw, that's what I call the other members in the club."
"Oh. I don't know much about … umm, clubs."
He smirked. "Didn't figure you did. It doesn't seem like your scene."
The words felt like a challenge.
She glanced up at him from underneath her lashes. "You never can tell."
His lips quirked upward. "No, I guess not. You got more fire than I initially imagined. Hold on to that. It'll keep you going in the end. Get out. We'll head inside. If you want to talk, I'll listen. If not, I'll keep our minds off anything too serious."
"You can't promise that," she said, unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping from the car.
"You'll find out soon enough I don't make promises I can't keep. This ain't your world. Once we step through the door, you'll be entering the greatest show on Earth."
"What, a circus?" she asked, wrinkling her nose as she imagined a sexual orgy-style free for all.
"Fuck no, real freedom. This is life the way it was meant to be lived. No bullshit, politically correct mumbo jumbo, or restrictions. You and I know more than most all the restrictions placed upon us don't really keep us safe."
His words eerily echoed her own thoughts. She saw the man in a new light.
"You understand?"
"I think I do," she replied nervously.
"What's it going to be, Estelle? Talking or living?"
"Living," she answered, feeling firmly in control for the first time that day.
"I won't let anything happen to you. If you give them respect, my brothers will return it. You don't seem like the type to mouth off, but I'll tell you now that equality shit doesn't fly here. If you give them shit or lip, they're going to shut you down."
Her stomach dropped into her shoes. She felt like she was on a roller coaster, and the sensation made her feel alive. Like a hypothermia victim immersed in warm water it was a painful yet necessary process.
"You trust me?" he asked.
"I don't know why, but I do," she stated, closing the door behind her.
§
Snake
She stopped in the doorway. "Before we go in, I have one question."
"What's that?" he asked, unsure of what she'd say. The woman was a wreck. A beautiful disaster to be sure, but unpredictable as hell. It kept him on his toes and touched one of his few soft spots. He remembered that out of control period. Mike had been the one to get him on the path. He wanted to pay the favor forward.
"What's your name?"
"Xavier."
"That's a good, strong name," she whispered.
"Yeah, my parents thought so, too." Opening the door, he guided her inside. He didn't expand on the explanation; this visit wasn't about him. He'd never met a woman who could hold a candle to his wife, Jade, and Estelle was his wife's polar opposite. Women could warm his bed, and ride his cock, but they didn't belong in his life or touch the dead organ that remained behind in his sternum. The red muscles continued to pump blood through his veins, but that's where it ended.
"Holy shit, you ordered some entertainment? What is she, a business lady?" a voice crowed.
Snake met a pair of black eyes filled with filthy intentions.
"No, Dirty, she's not."
"What? You going to tell me she's just a friend?" Dirty sneered.
Snake stared him down and remained silent.
Dirty snickered. "Embarrassed that you brought home your waitress?"
"Bartender actually," Estelle said, shocking him.
"Is that right?" Dirty asked. The amused expression on Dirty's face eased the tension. The man liked to stir up shit up. He had a mean streak and a love for easy women. To each their own.
"I'm still in training, which is why I'm dressed like this. Good impression and all that. Trying to get a decent job when I get out of school."
Dirty did an about face. "Shit. You brought me someone who knows about alcohol. Let's get her ass behind the bar and see what she's got," he said, issuing him a challenge.