“Well she was being a huge cunt!”
“Wow, okay, uhm…” April held back a bout of laughter threatening to surface based on the look on Carey’s face. Her sales associate, one of the newer hires, had gotten into a bit of a tiff with a customer that evening, which prompted April to have to sweep in and smooth things over so they could still get the sale. Carey, to her credit, wasn’t exactly wrong. The woman had been totally obnoxious and came across as one of those people who thought anyone working in sales or retail was below her.
To be fair, the boutique she worked at sold high-end makeup to wealthy clientele, and many, many of the regulars were huge snobs. Some had a particular shop associate they wanted to work with, while others would only take advice from management—or April if they really had to, but they were even snooty with her. Apparently, the “assistant” title on her silver magnetic name tag meant she was a few degrees below them socially. She could understand the wrath of each and every associate who worked in the store. Retail was seldom ever fun, and there were very few people who were cut out to love the job. Still, most of these girls were in college, and they loved the discount on high-end makeup, so they put up with it. Plus, in April’s opinion, they earned a pretty fair wage.
Only fifty cents less than April did, which was saying something.
“I know I shouldn’t have raised my voice,” Carey went on, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. April let out a small sigh; Carey hadn’t worked at the boutique long enough for her to know if the waterworks were real or not, but it was still difficult to watch one of her workers cry. “She was just being so awful, and she kept muttering things under her breath about me like I was some deaf idiot, and I just… I snapped!”
April nodded, knowing the feeling well. “I get it.”
She really did. She’d had a few trying customers that day too, and now that the boutique was in the midst of its closing routine, she finally felt like it was the right time to take Carey aside and let her blow off some steam. One of the other associates was still in the store, irritably doing all the closing jobs on her own so that they could all get out of there on time. Well, not April. April would be there an hour after the sales associates left, balancing the books, putting the day’s earnings in the safe, and doing sweeps of all the areas herself before finally locking up.
What a thrilling life she led away from Cascade Falls. Sometimes she missed lounging on her mom’s couch and watching TV all night, but her bank account was happy to be making a living again.
“Am I going to get written up?”
April took in Carey’s flushed expression, her teary eyes, and her quivering lower lip, and then decided that the girl was genuinely upset over what had happened. Sighing, she shook her head.
“No,” she replied. Carey’s shoulders slumped forward, her face relaxing. “No, I just wanted to get the full story, in case she comes back and tries to complain to Grace or Harriet. It’s fine. Just… try to keep it together until the customer leaves next time. If you need to, go scream by the garbage cans out back or something.”
“I’d like that,” the girl said, after giving a strangled laugh. Pleased they’d seen eye-to-eye in the end, April sent her out to help her co-worker close for the night, then she got started on all her duties. Sure enough, an hour after she checked both purses of the associates working before they left for the night, April was finally locking the doors and heading for home. Her feet ached after wearing her little kitten heels all day, and all she wanted to do was chug back a glass of wine in a hot bath. As much as she disliked her job, it was usually busy enough to keep her mind off Van.
Her dreams, however, were never safe territory. Just last night she’d dreamt that they were together again, and she woke up just as he started fucking her over a table at his bar while everyone watched.
Bit of a risqué place her mind went sometimes, but she chalked it up to being totally celibate since she’d broken things off with Van.
Wrapped up in a few layers to combat the evening chill, April gave the doors to the boutique a few good shakes before stepping away. Everything was locked. All the lights but one were off. Nodding, she stuffed her keys in her purse and turned away from the building. Just two days off until she was back here again, and she wasn’t sure what she was going to do with her time off. She’d been working eight-hour shifts for the last ten days, and it was time to take a retail breather.
As soon as her foot stepped off the curb and touched down on the parking lot pavement, a chill ran down her spine. It affected her so much that she froze, her hands tightening around her purse strap, and she did a full sweep of the semi-empty parking lot. The boutique, for all its fabulousness, was located in a little strip mall with a bunch of other business, and usually there were a few people around by the time she headed for home. There were still a few cars in the parking lot, but they weren’t what caught April’s attention. No, it was the stocky man sitting on a motorcycle in the wheelchair spot in front of her store that snagged her stare.
He pushed his visor off, as she tried to shuffle over to her car without making eye contact, and she heard him say, “You April?”
Fuck. Not looking back, she did a little half-jog to her car, and all but threw herself in the front seat. Without bothering to check her mirrors or any of the usual things she did once she got in the car, April shoved the key in the ignition and then whizzed out of the parking lot faster than she was legally allowed to go.
James swore he’d leave her alone. He said that if she broke up with Van and kept all his awful threats to herself, he wouldn’t bother her. Yet, there was a man sitting in the parking lot. On a motorcycle. Who knew her name.
And was currently following her. A single light reflected in her rear-view mirror, and April’s grip on the steering wheel tightened to the point of white knuckles when she clued in that he followed her. The telltale roar of a bike sounded behind her, a sound she felt in her bones. Of course he’d follow her. He’d said her name. There weren’t many cars on the road at this hour, and her little blue hatchback wasn’t difficult to spot in a crowd.
Biting her lower lip, she tried to take a few alternative routes home, turning sharply here and running red lights there. By the time she reached her apartment, she was in a full-tilt panic. Pulling into her usual spot in the underground parking garage, she turned off the car and let out a long sigh. Thus far, it seemed that he hadn’t followed her there—maybe all the security cameras would throw him off. Grabbing her purse with a trembling hand, she hopped out of the car and made a beeline for the elevator doors—only to find she hadn’t lost her pursuer after all. He was there. Waiting for her in a different parking spot, still seated on his bike with both legs on the ground.
“I have pepper spray!” she shrieked, digging through her purse for the little canister as he raised his helmet’s visor again. He held up his hands defensively, as she pulled out a little black can, which was actually hair spray disguised as pepper spray, the label colored over with black marker.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, stepping off the bike and removing his helmet. “Van Palmer sent me.”
Her arm fell to her side, which caused her purse strap to slide off her shoulder. It landed noisily on the ground by her feet, and she suddenly felt as though her tongue had lost its ability to move. Van had sent a ruffian after her?
Well, he wasn’t exactly a ruffian. Now that her brain wasn’t in complete panic mode, April took a second to notice that his bike practically sparkled in the awful overhead lighting, and while his thick gray hair made him look sloppy, he wore a sharp pair of dark jeans and polished leather boots—and his jacket had the emblem of the motorcycle club on the arm.
“Van said to tell you I’m the… the kind of guy who does parades and poses with puppies,” he said slowly, setting his helmet on his bike seat, but he stopped his slow advance on her when she raised her hand again, finger on the trigger. “My name’s Mike.”
“Well good for you,” she snapped, her eyes narrowing a little as she held his stare. “How do I know you’re from Van and not from…?”
The other one. She pressed her lips together, worried she might give too much away by finishing the question. Mike let out a long sigh.
“The parades and puppies comment didn’t do it for you?”
April shook her head. Even though she remembered Van saying something along those lines, she wasn’t going to drop her guard to this total stranger and let him in.
“What do you want to talk about?” she asked, eyes flickering up to the security camera nearby. If someone was watching, surely the scene looked a little suspicious.
“I’d rather do it inside.”
“You’re not coming inside,” April told him swiftly with a shake of her head. “Whether Van sent you or not… You aren’t coming into my home.”
That much she was firm on. Mike nodded. “Fair enough.”
He then turned and started locking up his bike.
“Is there a coffee shop around here somewhere?” Mike asked once he was finished, straightening up and running a hand through his thick gray hair. “I could use a cappuccino. Driving to my daughter’s place after this in Mellville.”
April slowly set the fake pepper spray canister back in her purse, keeping her distance as he stepped around the bike. “How old’s your daughter?”
“About your age, I guess,” he replied, and slowly they made their way toward the exit of the parking garage. There was, in fact, a nice little coffee shop just one street over from her place, and April took him there under the assumption that it would be good to do this in a public place. She’d forked out a lot of money in coffee shops since she’d returned from Cascade Falls, using them as her place to meet up with June and her other friends—and as an excuse to get out of her apartment.
“Look, he told me you two ended things before he was sentenced,” Mike told her once they’d received their orders and taken a seat at a small table by the window. They had about an hour before the shop closed, and April hoped to be home—alone—in half that time. Mike was a much smaller man without his leather jacket and bike, and now that they were in better lighting, he definitely looked like the dad-type in his polo t-shirt and jeans.
“We did,” she remarked, tensing. Some people thought she had been a little harsh on Van, what with leaving him as soon as he got arrested, but they didn’t know the whole story. Besides, it wasn’t like he was sick; he was locked up. If they’d found cancer and she broke up with him, then they had the right to call her a bitch. Thankfully, there was no resentment in Mike’s tone.
“He gets that,” the man continued, slowly stirring his drink with a little wooden stick. “He really does. He’s not trying to hound you or suck you back into whatever you guys had. He needs your help.”
“Not really sure what I can do out here,” she muttered, breaking off a piece of her lemon-raspberry cake and stuffing it in her mouth. She chewed for a few moments, not really tasting much and then cleared her throat. “I have a business degree, not a law degree. I can’t fight his case for him.”
She couldn’t do anything for him—not publically, anyway. Not with James looming over her shoulder, ready to dive in at any second and remind her that he had the power.
“Hey, I get that,” Mike said, holding his hands up again, “but April… He’s gonna die in there if we don’t do anything.”
Her heart stopped for a split second, and she was seeing stars. Blinking them away, she let her hands fall limply into her lap. “W-What?”
“He’s getting jumped by some guys on a pretty regular basis,” Mike explained, his expression darkening. “I’ve known Van since he was a kid. His dad’s a piece of shit, sure, but Van’s one of the good ones. Got a solid head on his shoulders and all that. But while he’s in there, all of James’s enemies are taking out whatever anger and aggression they have on Van, and I’m pretty sure he’ll be dead by Christmas.”
She fell back in her chair, stunned. Did her mom know any of this? Did James? When she vocalized her thoughts, Mike just shrugged and rolled his eyes.
“Wouldn’t count on James to do much, anyway,” he muttered. “He’s more focused on getting his bank accounts back in order.”
“Why are you in his club if you know he’s such a bad guy?” April asked. She’d always wondered why guys like Mike bothered with an asshole like James Palmer. Again Mike shrugged.
“There aren’t any other clubs in the area,” he answered, then he took a small sip of his drink. He hissed noisily, clearly finding it too hot, and set the comically small cup back down on its plate. “I’d say seventy percent of the guys in the club are decent. We just ignore the rest. James Palmer doesn’t exactly get involved in much lately anyway. We basically run the club ourselves. However, I’m not here to talk about James.”
No, of course not. James was never meant to be the center of her world, Van was, and yet somehow the awful old jerk had taken over. None of this was supposed to happen. If James hadn’t been such a psychopath, she might have been back in Cascade Falls now, enjoying her time with Van as they took their relationship to the next level. Daydreams about what could have been crossed her mind just as often as nightmares about what did happen: April had broken both of their hearts.
And now Van might die because of her—because of her cowardice. She swallowed thickly, unable to take another bite of her cake. This was all her fault. Van hadn’t done anything wrong, unless falling for her was wrong. She owed it to him to do whatever she could to help him, because he didn’t deserve the life was living. Prison—jail, whatever—was bound to be a rough ride for anyone, but she figured he’d be out next year and ready to move on with his life. Never had she thought things would spiral into such a terrible darkness.
Besides, he was technically family now. April would do anything for her family. To keep her mom safe, she let that psychopath dictate her life and let herself live in constant fear. No more. It was time to take charge of her life again. It was time to get the people she loved most to safety.
Clearing her throat, she looked Mike dead in the eye, and with an unwavering voice she said, “Tell me what I need to do.”