TARA

I felt a little better when I woke up this morning, and my run helped clear away the rest of the debris left by the excitement of yesterday. Running usually helps, but I also haven't seen Tommy all day, so that might be why I'm so calm.

Though I don't think so.

It was clear to me from the second I saw him that he will never be my friend. He wants sex. From me, from one of the others. I don't think it matters to him. Though I'm pretty sure he slept alone last night.

I watched him ride up at around two in the morning, heard him go into his apartment, which is right below my tiny room. For some reason it was easier to get to sleep after he got back. Though I was also dead tired, so that probably had more to do with it.

Today, Crystal asked me to help her clear out the garage attached to her home that's right behind the strip club. So that's what I've been doing since noon. It's almost opening time.

"I think this is some more of your stuff from the seventies," I say peering into a large cardboard box way in the corner, and spotting a pair of ancient looking bell bottoms.

"Is it?" she asks excitedly. "Let me take a look."

I hoist the box onto the worktable by the door so she can sift through it and decide what to keep. We've already filled at least twenty garbage bags with stuff she's throwing out.

A small cloud of black dust blows in my face as the box hits the tabletop, making me sneeze. I'm sure she hasn't cleared up this place in ages, and my fingernails and hands are so grimy it'll take ages to clean it all off. I'm also afraid some big spider will crawl out of one of the boxes I'm shifting. But whatever, at least the work keeps my mind off Tommy.

"Wow," she says in a broken sort of voice. When I look at her she's holding up the jeans, her good eye a little misty. "I remember when I could still fit into these. I was hot in the seventies."

It sounds so whimsical the way she says it that I get a little homesick. Or Sam-sick, because I never really missed my home.

She folds the jeans up neatly, then pulls out a framed photo from the side of the box. She goes completely quiet as she stares at it. I can't even hear her breathing. "And here's a photo of me when I still had both eyes."

She's trying to make light of it, but her breath hitches as she shows it to me. The photo’s of her and a biker, who I don't think is her husband Bear, because he looks about her age, and Bear is much older. I was right about her. She was a stunning beauty when she was younger.

"You're still gorgeous," I say, meaning it completely. "Beauty comes from the inside, it's not just skin deep."

I'm fully aware those are just clichés, but they convey what I want to say perfectly. I hardly even notice her scars anymore. And what Crystal is doing for the girls here makes her so beautiful that no scar and no amount of years will ever mar it.

"You're a very beautiful girl too, Tara," she says, sliding a lock of my hair that's come loose back behind my ear. "You should embrace it now, while it lasts. One day you'll miss it."

She's wrong. I'll never miss it. I can't wait to get so old and wrinkled that no man will ever look at me twice. I just shrug and nod, hand her back the photo.

This is another great opening for me to tell her why I'm really here, show her the photos of Samantha, ask if she passed through here. I've had many such openings with Crystal today, but I lost my nerve each time, because then I'd also have to tell her I'm a liar and I don't want this kind woman to think ill of me. But she'd know, perhaps she even knows more than Tommy does.

I reach into my pocket to pull out a photo, but change my mind again. The other reason why I haven't asked Crystal is because I want to stay, spend more time with Tommy. And as much as I try to ignore that knowledge, I can't deny it. If I tell Crystal the truth, I'll have to leave. And maybe I should. He'll never just be my friend anyway. He made that pretty clear last night. But the thing is, maybe I don’t want to be just friends with him either. I never really felt this way about a guy before, so I’d like to try and explore it.

"Look at the time," Crystal exclaims, checking her watch. She removes the bandanna holding her long grey hair out of her face. "We should get to the club."

I let go of the photo of Sam in my pocket, and follow Crystal into the club. And I'm not disappointed at all that I missed another chance to ask about Sam. Though I probably should be.

* * *

TOMMY

Shade woke me early, had me meet him at the Nest for an urgent meeting then just left me sitting there for two hours, waiting for him. When he finally showed, he dragged me along to another whore shopping trip, and now this. Whatever this is.

For hours now, we've been laying in the dirt on a hill overlooking a decrepit warehouse in the middle of nowhere. Apart from Billy, who's been an MC member since before I was born, Shade only brought his new recruits to this stakeout, the ones he brought in and who are completely loyal to him. So I don't even have anyone to talk to.

"I'm telling you," Shade whispers in my ear. "The Vagos are moving those guns from here tonight."

We've been here since sunset, and it's almost one AM now. No one's coming here, not now, not for the next hundred years. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's how long it's been since the last time anyone was here.

"Let's just go down there and steal their stash while we wait for them to show," I suggest. "We'll see them coming a mile away."

I actually get a few grumbled agreements from the others. Another flash of lightning illuminates the horizon, and this time I actually hear the thunder follow it. The storm that's been threatening to come down all afternoon is almost here.

"We're waiting for them," Shade hisses. "I want them to know it was us."

"No one's fucking coming, Shade." The rocks are digging into my stomach and my whole body is stiff from the hours we spent lying here. Shade's little excursion has also put a dent in my plan to return Tara's keys to her in a friendly way sometime today. At this rate she'll be asleep by the time I get back.

He turns to me sharply. "You anxious to get back to your whores?"

He said it loudly, so a couple of the guys laugh.

"They're strippers, not whores."

"Same difference," Shade says. "Kinda like your mother."

Every time someone brings up my mom it feels like a heavy wall shifts in my mind, and I'm always afraid I won't be able to stop myself from unleashing all the rage I keep behind it. It's worst when Shade does it.

"You know, back when Blade was in charge, we never went on pointless runs." I can only see the faint outline of Shade's face, but I know he's pissed now. The tension between us just quadrupled, if nothing else. He hates it when I compare him to our late brother.

"Blade hardly ever organized any runs. He was always a very slow mover."

"Maybe, but he got shit done." Blade was more of a thinker, I can't deny that. But he was moving in the right direction, even if not very fast. Not fast enough, anyway. Because Shade will have no trouble setting the MC back down the shady path now that Blade's dead. Shade and his shady path. It'd be funny if it wasn't so fucking sad.

"But very slowly, like when it came to your mom for example."

He's trying to rile me up, wants me to make a mistake, go for him, and one of his guys is probably ready to stick a knife in my back the moment I do. It makes sense that Billy is here. Shade brought him so the other MC members, the original ones, will hear from him how I was out of line, how I provoked Shade, how he had no choice but to put me in my place and things got out of hand. And I'll be dead. Just like Blade. And there'll be nothing blocking the Shady Path any longer. I see this version of events unfolding like he just told me his plan. But I don't even know what he meant by this last jibe.

Blade would never murder our father just to take over the club. He was all about brotherhood and loyalty. None more so, and nothing would prevent him from honoring that. He's not resting easy in his grave, if he knows I'm planning to leave. I know that, so I try not to think about it.

A couple of thick rain drops land on the top of my head, slide down my forehead and cheeks as I glare at Shade. I'm struggling to stay calm, not say or do anything stupid. Then the rain just comes down in a freezing deluge. And it helps a lot.

"Let's get the fuck outta here," I say.

But Shade has us wait in the pouring rain for almost another hour, because he's certain it'll stop just as fast as it started.

It's still raining when I pull into the parking lot behind Crystal's.

Three of Shade's guys followed me here, and I'm not looking forward to the conversation we're about to have. It's almost three AM, but the music is still playing inside. Tara might even still be up. My clothes are soaked through, and all I want is to give her the car key, try and be her friend for a bit and then go to sleep.

Slim, or whatever his name is, gets off his bike first, gazing at the club. "Looks like the Lounge is still open. I wouldn't mind a little party before bed."

The other two laugh at that, as they climb off their bikes too.

"No, Slim," I tell him. "There are no parties at Crystal's, you know that."

The others heard me say it too, are drawing closer. I get the feeling this meeting was staged. Technically I can't stop them from going inside without starting shit. Maybe Shade sent them here after me knowing I'd try. Three against one are no kind of odds. At eighteen, I'd probably try to take them anyway. Hell, I might even have walked away from such a fight back then. But that won't be happening now. These days, I can't even call up a shadow of the vicious rage I once felt all the time, and which helped me win every fight.

If they kill me out here in the rain tonight, it could easily be explained as a needless brawl that got out of hand. Shade was never very imaginative. That's exactly how he's trying to explain away Blade's death. What worries me is that most of the guys are starting to buy it.

The other members would never dare press like this to get access to the club while Blade was still alive, but now I'm the only one standing between them and Crystal's girls.

"Come on, Tommy. It's not fair you get all the pussy you want over here. How 'bout you start sharing?" Slim snarls at me, his tone mocking and cocky, since he has the advantage of numbers. He's talking to me like we know each other, like we're equals. I'm in no mood for this bullshit.

"You just let me worry about what's fair. The club's closing soon, go find somewhere else to get laid."

I turn my back on them and walk away. It's a move that could go either way, and I'm fully prepared to feel a knife in my back at any second. I can only hope they're not the kind of cowards to stab me in the back.

Nothing happens, and I hear them rev up their bikes and drive off just as I reach the door. One night they'll just come, demand what they want. But at least it won't be tonight.

Crystal, not Tara, is behind the bar. I'm so disappointed it stings, but it's fitting too, the perfect end to this shitty day.

Only the old man who has a crush on Simone is still in here. He's watching her dance like she's a mermaid and he a lost lonely sailor. But she's only got eyes for me as I approach the bar. Simone's looking at me like she wants something, but she won't be sharing my bed tonight. Maybe never again.

"Do you want me to kick him out so you can close?" I ask Crystal pointing at the man mesmerized by Simone.

She stifles a yawn with the back of her hand and shakes her head. "No, leave him be. It's sweet how in love with her he is. He's here every night, and I don't think he even wants her in a sexual way."

He's a man and he's old. Of course he wants Simone in a sexual way. He just knows he'll never have her. Women. I'll never understand how their minds work.