Rocky
The clicking of heels was the first thing that I noticed when she arrived. I was working on a bike, shirt off, sweating in the hot garage while trying to concentrate. The radio was on, some long forgotten rock song blasting out of faulty speakers. I didn’t care. I just needed something to distract me from the silence.
It had been three months. Three long months filled with carefully controlled rage and the suppression of vengeful thoughts. I’d never understood before, the appeal of the club. I used to hate my old man, a buried guilt that had festered exponentially since his death. The hatred stemmed from the club, no doubt about it.
Growing up, I knew that he was the club president first and father second. All my friends as a child used to talk about him like he was a god. I ended up avoiding everyone and everything, trying to find ways to escape the club that seemed to dominate every aspect of my life.
In the end, it was a cute little girl with pigtails that ended up saving me. These older girls were picking on her, probably because she looked so damn innocent and vulnerable. I didn’t even need to say much to the girls before they ran off screaming. I guess even then my reputation was enough. Or my father’s reputation.
Years later, I learned to accept my father and the club. I never wanted to join it though. Not in a million years. Or not until my dad died and I finally understood the appeal.
I signed up the day after his funeral, marching up to my uncle, the new president of Satan’s Wings. I knew we would be on the same page, wanting vengeance for his murder. In the past few months I’d had more family and support than I did in my whole life, but it was too late now.
Now I didn’t need or want any of it. I wanted to avenge my father and I wouldn’t stop until I did.
The clicking of heels was getting louder and louder until the front door of the shop opened and the telltale chiming of the bell snapped me out of my thoughts. It took a moment for me to look up, but when I finally did, I immediately raised a brow at the woman. To say that she was out of place was an understatement.
She was in a tight white miniskirt and a black fitted shirt with some lace frilly shit on the sides. She was tall, even taller because of the heels, and blonde. My kind of woman.
I felt the sides of my mouth twitch into my natural cocky smirk and stood up, wiping my hands on a spare rag.
She seemed familiar, but even though I couldn’t remember everyone I had ever seduced into my bed, I knew that I’d gone nowhere near her before.
Finally stopping before me, I noticed that she had the widest smile I’d ever seen plastered all over her face, something that brought a weird ache to my chest.
“Rocky!” she yelled, taking a step closer and wrapping both arms around my neck, drawing me close to her.
I froze at her touch. Who was she?
Her embrace felt strangely intimate, like we were reuniting after a long separation, or like we’d known each other our whole lives. I cursed myself again for not recognizing her.
I pulled back, oddly wanting to return to her touch, and took a step away from her.
“Have we met?” I asked, keeping my blunt façade intact.
She withdrew from me, smile still in place though slightly less restrained.
“Sorry, Rocky. I should’ve introduced myself; it’s been so long. It’s Daria. Daria Barrett?”
My eyes widened in surprise and I felt my face break into the first genuine smile I’d expressed in what felt like years.
“Holy shit! Daria?” Not knowing what came over me, I stepped forward and this time pulled her into my arms, her body flush up against me, her head in the crook of my neck.
I couldn’t believe that she’d come back after all this time, looking like a runway model. “What are you doing back here?”
Daria’s smile faltered slightly at my question but only a moment before she brushed it off.
“Mom and I decided to come back. Familiar territory, you know?”
I nodded, still completely enraptured by her. I always knew she was pretty when we were kids but now she was all grown up and damn she was gorgeous.
“I still can’t believe it. It’s been what, ten years?”
“Twelve actually. When did you open this place up?” She asked.
“Couple years back. How’d you know I’d be here?”
“I saw your ad this morning. I couldn’t believe that I’d forgotten you lived here so I came by as soon as I could. I wanted to see a familiar face.”
Without even noticing, I found myself raking my eyes over her once again. It was definitely nice to see a familiar face again but I knew without a doubt that Daria could be the biggest distraction of my life, especially now when I needed to be focused.
“I’m glad you came by. So how long are you staying in town anyway?”
“A while I think. At the moment, I’m just trying to look for a job so we can move out of the hotel.”
I frowned a little at that. The hotel was no kind of place for someone like Daria.
“I’m not sure if you’d be interested, but we do have a job opening here. It’ll be simple stuff mostly, just filing, answering phones, mail, cleaning up the office that I've ignored for the past two years. What do you think?”
“Really, are you sure? Do you want to interview me or something?”
I barked out a laugh at her innocence. “Darlin’, I’m sure you’ll be perfect.”
“Well can I think it over? I’ll call you today or tomorrow.”
I grinned at her again. “Perfect.”
We exchanged numbers and she eventually headed off, hips swaying as she sauntered out, and my eyes glued to her backside like there was no tomorrow.
I shook myself for a moment and thought back on what I just did. Was giving her the job really a good idea? Could I really afford someone to distract me from avenging my father?
Closing my eyes, the image of her radiant smile seemed to be burned on the inside of my eyelids, and something inside of me shifted. Yeah, she might be a distraction. But maybe I wanted a bit of goodness in my life. Maybe I wanted someone innocent and pure to distract me from my darkness.
Besides, it was just a job. I would still be dedicated to the club and going after the bastard that murdered my father, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t have something nice to look at when I was working.
Returning back to my bike, I smiled broadly to myself, probably looking crazy to anyone that might see me. This was going to work out great.