Rachel Wallace watched as Jules, Fish, and Bell joined the rest of the Forsaken 99 Motorcycle Club members already in her bar. He’s Not Here, a local watering hole started by her grandfather back in the forties, was a favored hangout for Forsaken 99. Judging by their dour faces, they must have run another intercept this afternoon.

 

While not a member of the club, Rachel heard things... things that most of the people of Vallecito de Grande, Texas liked to pretend wasn’t happening – like the killing of drug mules and Coyotes running illegals. But as far as she was concerned, Forsaken 99 was the best thing to have happened to the town in years.

 

Nestled into the “U” between Big Bend Ranch State Park and Big Bend National Park, less than ten miles from the Mexican border, and with a natural shallow in the Rio Grande River, Vallecito had once been a warzone. With the desolation afforded by the parks and surrounding ranchland, Vallecito had been a natural exchange point for the drug and illegal alien traffic flowing into the United States from Mexico.

 

Then, ten years ago, Forsaken 99 had moved in and set up shop. They had made a tacit deal with the town. If the town would give them a home, and not hassle them too much, they would work to push the drug and illegals traffic around the town. Forsaken 99 had lived up to their end of the bargain, and more. As they added new members, their sphere of influence had spread, and they had taken in the surrounding community, providing protection that the police could not.

 

Later, a group of ranchers had banded together to provide funding and support for what Forsaken 99 was doing. It was a working relationship that had lasted for ten years to the benefit of all. Officially the police were getting the credit for keeping the town safe, but everyone knew it was Forsaken 99 doing the heavy lifting. They had a…freer hand…to deal with the problems, and so long as they kept the violence out of the town, the Vallecito police tended to look the other way.

 

Rachel smiled as she drew up beers for Jules, Fish, and Bell. Forsaken 99 could be a little rowdy sometimes, but they were all good guys. Each member of the club was ex-military and having them in her bar made her feel just a little closer to her brother.

 

***

 

Jules sighed as he settled into his chair and stretched out his legs. He’s Not Here, or HNH as the locals called it, was the best place in town for something cold and wet. And the food was pretty good, too, with Rachel serving up the best burgers and fries in town. It also didn’t hurt that she was easy on the eyes…very easy on the eyes. Jules, Fish, and Bell placed their orders and watched as Angie, the waitress, flounced to the bar. Angie wasn’t exactly hard to look at either.

 

Jules watched as Rachel drew their beer with an expert touch. Rumor was she took over HNH less than a year before he arrived, but she moved behind the bar with an easy grace and comfort that spoke of years of experience.

 

She looked up and caught his eyes as the beer poured down the side of the final mug, rewarding him with a smile that made his cock tingle. There was no arguing that Rachel was sexy as hell, with her dark hair pulled up in a ponytail, but there was something much more than just her good looks. She was smart, witty, tough, and he liked talking with her. She stopped the fill just as the beer reach the top of the mug and set in on the tray, her eyes never leaving his. He snickered to himself as he broke eye contact with an admiring shake of his head.

 

***

 

Rachel caught him watching her, and she smiled. She liked all the Forsaken 99 guys, but Jules was her favorite. Clean cut, quiet, and soft spoken, he was always good for a funny turn of phrase or interesting conversation. She held his eyes with her own, showing off a little by stopping the fill of the mug at just the right moment without looking down. Her smile widened as he chuckled at her showmanship and looked away. He looked so much better when he smiled…and she wished he would do it more often.

 

Being that it was Saturday, HNH was hopping. The townspeople had mostly accepted Forsaken 99 into their midst and didn’t mind sharing bar space with them, especially since Jules was elevated to Vice President. He had gone out of his way to give the club a more upstanding image and had been instrumental in getting the club involved in various charity events. He also functioned as the spokesman for Forsaken 99 and gave a speech each year to the new eighth grade class about the evils of drugs and how the kids should be true to who they are. Riding his bike into the cafeteria and up a ramp onto stage in full Forsaken 99 regalia, his speeches were the highlight of the school year.

 

Rachel grinned as she accepted the next order. For a bunch of average guys, the fifty-one members of Forsaken 99 had done more good for this town than all the politicians in the last twenty-five years. The town was a haven, and growing, as was her business. Her dad wouldn’t even recognize the place now.

 

***

 

Jules sat down at the bar. “Draw me another?”

 

“Tough day?” Rachel asked as she snagged another mug from the freezer and filled it.

 

“Yeah. Illegals. Looks like some of the women may have been raped.”

 

Rachel lips tightened in disgust. “But those responsible won’t be doing it again, I assume?”

 

“That’s a safe assumption.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Yeah. Thanks,” he said. As he accepted the mug, his eyes searched the head for answers.

 

“Jules… you’re doing a good thing here. You know that. It’s not like you go into Mexico, you know? They don’t have to come through Forsaken 99 territory.”

 

Jules stared into his beer. “Yeah. I know.”

 

“Look, it’s Saturday. You should be celebrating. I’ll make you a deal. If you can give me a genuine smile, that beer is on the house.”

 

Jules’s smile formed without conscious thought.

 

“Enjoy the free beer,” Rachel said with a wink as she moved off to serve another customer.

 

***

 

Jules was about halfway through his second beer when an angry voice captured his attention. “Don’t give my any of that shit! I saw you hanging all over her last week at the chili cook-off! I want to know where Vicky is!” a twenty-something shouted while getting into Fish’s face.

 

“Whoa there, hot-rod,” Bell said, positioning himself between Fish and the guy, placing his cue in the kid’s chest like a baton.

 

“Back off… skunk,” the kid said, sneering at Bell’s black hair with the white streak down the center. “My business is with this asshole!”

 

Jules slid off the stool to intervene, but he wasn’t fast enough. When Bell started pushing the kid backwards with the cue to get some space between him and Fish, the kid threw a punch that connected solidly with Bell’s face, causing Bell to stagger back. Before Bell could recover, Fish’s pool cue came around in a swishing arc that caught the kid across the back, sending him to the floor with his back arched in pain.

 

The rest of Forsaken 99 rose from their places to square off on the downed guy’s friends, but before the fight could proceed further, the sound of a shotgun being pumped stilled the entire room.

 

“Alex!” Rachel shouted, calling the one person she recognized by name. “Y’all stop this shit right now before I fill you full of birdshot!” When nobody moved, Rachel continued in a calmer voice. “Pick him up and take him home before I call Chief Council and tell him you boys are in here starting fights. Now get!”

 

As the three pick up their downed man and help him out, Jules moved to Bell. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah. I’ve had women slap me harder than that. He just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

 

“From the look of that eye, you must have been slapped by a hell of a woman, then,” Fish teased.

 

“You okay?” Rachel asked as she walked up, the shotgun still in her hand.

 

“Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry about that. I didn’t intend to start a fight.”

 

“Not your fault. At least you didn’t break the furniture this time. Let me buy you a beer?”

 

Bell chuckled. “Sure. Thanks.”

 

Fish slapped Bell on the back. “If I let Jules punch me in the face, do I get a free beer too?” Fish asked Rachel with a grin.

 

Rachel grinned. “No, sorry. I don’t want to be responsible for Jules breaking his hand on your hard head.”

 

Jules snickered as the rest of the Forsaken 99 crew roared their approval over Rachel’s remark. As Rachel escorted Bell to the bar for his free beer, Jules leaned in close to Fish. “Thanks for holding back on that kid and not breaking the cue over his head.”

 

Fish grinned. “I’ve had enough of that for one day. Besides, he was just in here trying to prove how big his dick is.”

 

“I guess he found out, didn’t he?”

 

Fish spun the cue like a staff and laid it on the table. “Yeah, I guess he did.”

 

“Do you know this Vicky?”

 

“Fuck no! I don’t know what the kid was talking about.” Fish paused before he gave Jules a sly smile. “But you know me. I have so many women throwing themselves at me all the time, who can keep them all straight.”

 

Jules snickered again and steered Fish toward the bar by the shoulder. “Because I don’t feel like dressing up for your funeral, I won’t tell Kristen you said that.”

 

“You doing okay?” Fish asked as he sat down next to Jules later that evening.

 

“Yeah, why?”

 

“Because you look like you could use a friend. I just wanted to make sure you are okay before I leave. Mags is at home... and I’m in the mood for some comforting of the female persuasion.”

 

Jules chuckled. If he had Kristen waiting for him at home, he would be in the mood for some comforting, as well.

 

“Go. I’m good. I’m going to finish this beer and head out myself.”

 

Fish looked at Jules a moment and then stood up. “All right, brother. But if you need anything tonight, you call.”

 

“Thanks, Fish. But I’m fine. It just bums me out to see people treated like…animals.”

 

“Is that all it is?”

 

“That’s it, man. I’m good. Really.”

 

“Alright, then. You take care tonight.”

 

“Thanks, bro. I will.”

 

***

 

Bell was the only Forsaken 99 left in HNH, besides himself, when Jules finished his beer. Bell was busy talking up a sweet thing and looked like he would be a while.

 

“Thanks, Rachel,” Jules said as he rose and tossed a pair of twenties on the bar. The two bills were far more than required to cover his tab.

 

Rachel nodded at his generosity while she prepared another order. “Thanks, Jules.”

 

Jules gave her a wave and a wan smile as he walked toward the door. Outside he breathed deep, taking in the cooling night air. He debated going for a ride to clear his head, but decided that with four beers in him, it would be best to just go home. No point looking for trouble. He mounted up and thumbed his Fat Boy to life. Pulling out of the parking lot of He’s Not Here, Jules dropped the hammer on the bike and bellowed away into the night.

 

***

 

“All done!” Angie crowed hours later, sticking her head into the kitchen.

 

“Thanks, Angie… you can go ahead and leave if you want,” Rachel said as she loaded the glassware into the giant washer.

 

“Thanks, Rachel. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

 

Rachel nodded as Angie whipped off her money pouch and picked up her things. The kitchen closed two hours before the bar so the kitchen staff had time to clean up and get out at a reasonable hour. With Angie cleaning tables and sweeping up, and Rachel wiping down and oiling the bar, unloading the dishes and reloading the washer with the remaining glasses, it only took thirty or forty minutes to whip HNH into shape for the next day.

 

Rachel slid the trays into the washer and pressed the start button. She gave the machine a pat when it clicked and hissed as the scalding hot water poured into it. Her dad, when he ran the place, had the staff wash all the dishes by hand. Having done her share of washing herself, the first thing she did when she took over the bar was to buy the commercial dishwasher.

 

While the machine sanitized the glassware, Rachel counted out the register drawer in her office. Deposit made up, she returned to the kitchen and began to empty the dishwasher. Even through her gloves, the dishes were still almost too hot to handle.

 

As she quickly stacked the glasses, she let her mind wander and she wondered what was eating Jules tonight. He was always a little moody after he had been out on an intercept, but he had seemed almost depressed tonight. He would brighten briefly when someone spoke to him, but then return to staring into his beer. She could understand that. No matter how richly deserved, killing a man had to be hard. And Jules seemed to go out on more intercepts than anyone else.

 

What he needed was a break. He needed to get away from the stress of the intercepts and the resulting death for a while – go into the rotation with the rest of the guys so he wasn’t always on the line and avoid burning out.

 

Finished unloading the glasses, Rachel surveyed the kitchen to make sure everything was clean and ready for Tuesday. It was. She didn’t even know why she bothered to check anymore. Ever since Tim had taken over the kitchen, the place positively gleamed. Between Tim, Angie, Rachel, and herself, they had a smoothly working team.

 

Satisfied that all was right and the bar was ready to open again Tuesday afternoon, Rachel returned to her office and picked up her purse, the deposit, and the keys to her truck. Flipping off lights on the way out, Rachel locked up and climbed into the bright red 1950 Chevy pickup with the He’s Not Here logo, the bar’s name in an art deco script inside a decorative border, painted on the doors.

 

As she turned the truck out of the parking lot on her way to make her deposit, Rachel decided she would have to talk to Jules about working too hard. HNH is a happy bar, full of fun and laughter. If he is going to sulk, he needed to go to Shots. But she liked Jules too much for him to leave, so she was just going to have to convince him he had to straighten up and learn to relax.