CAL
I place my hand on her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin, the hard bone of her jaw. And I do something out of the box for me -- I kiss her again. It’s not because we are having sex or because I want to seduce her. It’s because I want her to know I am here, that she is safe, and that we are together.
I kiss her again and again until I feel like I am falling back in. But she pushes me back before we can get in too deep again. She leans against the steering wheel and picks up the slinky black tank top off the floor, throwing it on her. As she gathers her things, she turns back to me and asks, “What about Maddie? What about the club?”
“When you arrived, the Coyotes were retreating. The Mustangs were holding them off. There’s no way they got into that basement.” I don’t sound as sure as my own words. The truth of the matter is that I abandoned my club and my daughter in battle to make sure Michelle got out of the line of fire. I cringe to think of what was going to happen to me when the dust settles.
“But what if --” Michelle senses my fear and doubt. She’s got that way about reading people, but it’s a gift that overwhelms her. She takes on everyone else’s emotions as her own, but this is especially true with Maddie. Why else would she come all this way to the clubhouse knowing the danger she would face when she could have easily just called the cops? “Cal,” she says interrupting my own thoughts, “You need to go back. You need to go back right now. I can’t be here with you making love when your daughter and your, uh, home is in danger!”
I don’t care that she has called the motorcycle gang a “home.” I’m more stuck on us “making love.” Were we? Was what I doing to her even in that category? I can’t deny that I’m starting to feel something for her beyond annoyed resentment over all that’s happened with Maddie and school. But have we gotten to that place?
I can’t dwell on this, though. She’s right. There’s something so much more important to think about than our feelings or desires. And that thing is potentially trapped in a clubhouse unable to defend herself. I had to get back to her.
I reach for my pants as Michelle moves back to the passenger side to put on her own jeans. I start the car up as she gives me directions the rest of the way to her house. Neither of us talks. What else is there to say? Our bodies have done enough for one night.
Her house is just as I imagine it to be. It’s neat, clean, precise. The lawn has been recently cut and there isn’t a leaf to be seen. Unlike the clubhouse, the home itself is in pristine condition without a shingle missing from the roof. As I park, she shrugs a bit nervously as she thinks of what words to leave me with. “This is my place. Thank you for the ride back. How are you going to get back?”
“I’ll take your car. It’s of no use to you with the busted out windows. I’ll have Marco, our repair shop guy, look at it tomorrow.”
She turns slowly towards me and looks at me hard. Her head tilted to the side as she asks slowly, “Repair shop? Did you hear about that repair shop burning down this afternoon? They found four guys there, maybe dead.”
I slink down in the seat. She knows it was me. I look down at my hands as if I were a child again caught stealing. “Yeah, I know.”
She reaches out a hand and lifts my head up and over ‘til I am eye to eye to her. She kneels in the passenger seat so our heads are level. “That was you, wasn’t it? The fire? The bodies? The fire trucks? All of it?”
I don’t look away. I don’t pretend to be more honorable than I am. That fire and the men on the ground was part of who I am and the life I lead as a Mustang. She won’t understand it or want to understand it, but it’s the truth. There was no use of hiding from it now. “It’s my job, Michelle. It’s what I do.”
She spits back at me, completely taken aback, “It isn’t your job. Jobs are things people quit or retire from. What you’re doing is something much worse…it’s…it’s sport. You’re killing for a team.”
“Did you see them shooting at you? Did you see them come after us like we were nothing? Those Coyotes don’t give a fuck about who we are or what our lives are like. They want to hunt us down and kill us. I was only doing what I had to do to protect myself.”
“What about Maddie? Have you ever stopped to think about her? What if what you did today with the fire started this? What if she’s dead right now because of you?” She’s screaming at me, the little veins on her neck going purple and blue as they pop out. Michelle opens her door and exits. She runs over to my side to add one last shot, “You go back to your clubhouse, or whatever it is, and you fix this shit. Because if you think you are going to put that girl in harm’s way again, you’ve got another thing coming for you.”
“Michelle, come on…” I stop myself. I don’t want to fight with her. I know every word she is saying is true. I am selfish. I am unstable. I am nothing without stability like her in my life. I am the catalyst and the last spark, the reason Maddie and I both need her so desperately.
I reach out my hand to gently touch her face and to brush away the hairs from her eyes, but she pulls away. The tears falling from her eyes are making puddles along her jawline as she quivers. She sniffles as she says, “I’ll need my car back for Monday.”
I nod and turn on the car again. I am only halfway out the driveway when I see another woman run out from the house. She’s dressed in a pair of loose fitting pajama pants. Her sleek bob is messy from being slept on, but she looks as if she has been up for hours. She gathers Michelle in her arms and holds her closely to her chest.
The woman yells something at me, and I stop the car. She runs towards it again, Michelle following slowly behind, unsure of what to do. “Listen, asshole! Don’t you dare come back here again. Ever! Take your fucking motorcycle gang and your henchmen and get out of Michelle’s life! She doesn’t need you!” She opens the driver’s door and slams it back for emphasis. I sit there stony and silent as I process exactly what is going on. I look towards Michelle, but her face is buried in her arm as she pushes back another sob. I don’t know whether to move or to defend myself, and my reluctance to go is only angering her more as she shouts, “Don’t think I haven’t already called the cops on your ass! And tomorrow, I’m calling child protective services. If Michelle can’t do it, I will!”
“Erin, no.” Michelle lets out a small cry. She looks at me nervously, her eyes growing from the shock.
I’m stunned, “What did you say?”
“You heard me. You’re not fit to be a father, let alone a man. Michelle’s told me everything including what you did to that repair shop. I’m sure CPS won’t let you get within one hundred feet of your daughter after hearing that you’re a murdering arsonist who sells drugs on the side!” She spits at me, coming close to my face. If she were a man, I wouldn’t hold back. But I can’t touch her. She’s someone important to Michelle. And even though I am furious at Michelle for telling her my, and our, business, I’m still not ready to jeopardize what’s between us over this bitch.
I ignore her, turning my attention back to the person that matters, calling her name out for her to say it isn’t true, that she would never try to get Maddie taken from me. She looks away and heads back towards the house, her friend following behind her with her head held high. As the door shuts, I know this may be the end of our chapter. There was no going back from what she is supposedly going to have to do.