Ivy
Before my father passed away, he would visit a junkyard to find pieces for his car. He never liked to pay mechanics, and learning how to do it all himself made servicing his car cheap, fast, and easy. Mostly he went to the junkyard on his own, worried I might hurt myself among all of the rusted cars and dirt.
But one trip, I begged him to let me go. I begged and pleaded and promised to be good. I just wanted to see what it was that I had been forbidden to see for so long. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say.
My father finally gave in. Oddly enough, I didn’t hurt myself on any of the strange cars, half empty and twisted. No, I was attacked instead, by a junkyard dog. It was a wild vicious thing with big drooling jowls and sharp teeth. I still have the scar from that bite. I remember the pain and fear. But more than that, I remember the cold-as-steel look of a killer in that dog’s eyes. I could have died, and that dog would have taken a sick kind of joy in my death.
That icy look in that animal’s eyes has haunted me to this day.
And now, I’m surrounded by humans with that same cold-as-steel look in theirs.
Seeing it sends shivers down my spine. How did I let myself get dragged into this? It had seemed like such a great idea a few moments ago. Creed had just knocked on my door again after that wild kiss yesterday and gruffly asked me to come with him to the Edge. Confused and still burning from his touch, I agreed without thinking it through first.
Stupid mistake. It might be the last mistake I ever make. I was surrounded by wolves and I was a sheep, quivering with fear. I stayed as close as I could to Creed. Funny how he should seem like the safest thing in this whole place when he had been my biggest fear for so long.
I tried not to think about the cold-eyed strangers surrounding me like sharks to a meal. I tried not to think about that kiss yesterday. I didn’t want to think about why Creed brought me here. I didn’t want to think about anything.
A small, warm hand slipped into my icy, limp one. Josh looked up at me, a smile on his face as he started to pull me away from Creed. “I want you to meet Pearl,” Josh said, yanking harder on my arm. How can he be so oblivious to all of the evil around him? All of the cold-hearted strangers who cared nothing for any of us?
It was strange, but seeing Josh’s face here made it a little easier. He seemed so at home here, so easy with these strange people. I let him drag me away, unsure of which direction we were heading in and what I would find when I got there.
“Pearl!” Josh screamed. “Are you in here?”
He pulled me closer to what looked like an office. The door was propped open and no sound came through the doorway. But as soon as Josh’s too loud voice rang out, a figure appeared, her pretty white and silver hair piled on her head in a pretty, messy bun. Pearl looked to be about fifty-five. It was the age my father would have been, were he still around. But her hair, probably already platinum to start with, had turned completely gray. It still looked soft and gently curled. It matched her serene, pretty face, mostly unlined. There was a wicked sort of humor in her azure eyes, and I liked her almost immediately. Even before she opened her mouth.
She snorted. “You must be Ivy, then, girl,” she said without preamble.
“And you must be Pearl, who I’ve heard so much about,” I answered, dipping my head in respect.
Pearl was dressed in what looked like gypsy clothing. Baggy embroidered pants came to her knees, displaying coffee-and-cream leather boots. She wore a baggy shirt that tied up the front, held close by a leather vest that looked custom made. I’d never seen anything like her in my life.
“Welcome to the Edge. Don’t let the dogs out there scare you; they’re all bark and no bite.”
I continued to stare at her as she stepped forward, holding her arms out to Josh. “And how’s my favorite little brat?” she cooed as Josh allowed himself to be crushed in her rail-thin arms. “Are you driving your pa crazy?”
“Duh,” Josh said, his voice alight with humor as he pushed his way out of her embrace. “That’s my job, isn’t it?”
Pearl chuckled. “You are your father’s son, for absolute sure. Now, you go find Uncle Patrick. He has something to show you.”
“Sweet!” And he was off, tearing across the hideout floor like nothing dangerous lurked in the corners. Perhaps for him, they weren’t dangers. His dad was, after all, part of the fold. The kid was probably protected, something I was not. I had no affiliation here, no friends or family. I had nothing to protect me. Not even Creed’s word.
And he was nowhere to be found.
“I suppose proper introductions are due now,” Pearl said, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked me up and down, her eyes critical. “You can’t look as weak-willed as you look, or else Creed wouldn’t have brought you here. What’s your story, huh?”
My knee-jerk reaction to the odd line of questioning was to smile. I wasn’t quite sure what to say to her, what she wanted to know. “I don’t have one,” I answered, glancing around. Josh had run off and was chatting with an older man. He looked like he’d seen a little too much bad and nowhere near enough good in his life. Creed had also wandered away and was standing in a small group of men, laughing at some sort of joke they all shared.
I am abandoned here with Pearl then. They brought me here and then left me. They couldn’t have left me with anyone better. Pearl was a tough lady; she looked like she might have knocked a few heads together in her day, but she was soft on the inside and seemed to take pity on my lack of knowledge.
“No story, huh?” She grinned at me. “It can’t as bad as that, dearie. You don’t look nearly mean enough to have been born into this. You talk too good; there’s nothing crude in you. So? What happened? Gambled all of your money away?”
I shook my head and leaned back against the doorframe that Pearl had walked out of, my eyes on Creed. He seemed too relaxed and easy here. I’d never seen him like this. “I lost it. Someone I trusted pulled the rug out from underneath me. I- We were never wealthy, but we had some money. It was enough. Until it was all stolen away.”
I wasn’t being vague on purpose, but remembering the details felt like knives in my chest. I didn’t want to think about Janice or the life she’d stolen from me.
Pearl nodded. “Sad tale. I’ve heard it more times than I would like to count.”
We were silent for a long moment, our thoughts too tangled up to remember we’d been having a conversation. Pearl was the first one to shake herself out of it. “Well, but that’s all in the past. Nothin’ neither of us can do now about it.” She held out a hand, and I took it gingerly to shake it.
We walked around the outer rim of the club. Pearl’s strides were long and easy, and I had to hustle to keep up with her. The place was huge, filled with men and motorcycles and the scent of hard work. It was a dangerous looking place, and I worried for little Josh. But he seemed to have one eye of nearly every adult on him at all times, keeping him out of trouble. It was like a family almost, though a very dangerous one.
I caught a glimpse of Creed as we circled the main crown. Pearl was telling me about some of the legitimate work they did around this place, and I tried to remain focused on her words. But suddenly, something pulled my gaze to the right, away from whatever she was discussing and into the center of the room. My eyes found him without difficulty, drawn there like magnets or gravity. And once I found him, I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off of him, either.
He was talking to some of the other men in the group. There were three others, and they spoke rather intently to one another. So intently, in fact, that I jumped when one of them cocked back and punched Creed right in the jaw. I jumped, a small noise of empathetic pain filling my mouth. But Creed didn’t even seem to notice anyone had hit him. With a wild grin, he hit the other guy back in the face.
A warm hand closed over my wrist, forcing me to glance back. It was Pearl, a smile on her pretty face. “Oh, girl, I wouldn’t get in the middle of that for the world. Just let them figure it out for themselves.” Her smile widened as I started back at her; I couldn’t imagine what expression I had on my face, but it was probably just as lost and bewildered as I felt.
I felt a blush creep over my cheeks as I turned away from the tussle. It’s not like I could defend Creed anyway. I was as weak as he was strong. And Creed has no need for weak women. I blushed even harder, remembering that thrilling kiss. I could remember every line of his beautiful body pressed hard against mine. I could remember every inch of him, hot and wild and--
I forced myself to push those thoughts from my head, even though I knew they were just waiting in the back of my brain. Those sexual thoughts about Creed were just waiting until the worst moment to come out a pounce on me. It was odd; I hadn’t thought much about men during my lifetime. I’d always been too busy or too focused on building my business or being ruined to think much about the opposite sex. But it seemed my body all of a sudden had different ideas, about a man like Creed. A man who was too crooked for his own good. A man I could never be strong enough to stand beside.
“Do you know why most of the older members have wives or partners, Ivy?” Pearl asked unexpectedly, pushing herself up onto a workbench that was far too tall for sitting. She swung her legs like a child on a barstool, a soft smile on her lips. Her pretty eyes looked off into the distance, seeing things that weren’t there.
With no little grunting and too much effort, I climbed onto the table beside her. From here, we both had a good vantage of the whole place. My eyes went to Creed first, no longer fighting but laughing and patting his bleeding friend on the shoulder. Then my eyes found Josh. He was sitting with an older man, strangely at ease in this dangerous place.
“Why do they have wives?” I asked at length, unable to come up with a proper answer. “Because they are lonely?”
“Lonely can be taken care of with $50 if you know where to go,” Pearl said dismissively. I blushed again. “No, most of the boys have women because they remind them that they are human. That someone is at home waiting for them, and they aren’t just cogs or faceless Stormtroopers in the war.”
I stared at her for a moment. I wanted to say something, perhaps funny or clever, to rid the air of some of the tension at Pearl’s words. But I couldn't think of anything to say. My eyes locked onto Creed across the room.
Have you forgotten what it means to be human?