Stella

 

Stella came home from an errand one day to find three members of the Marauders waiting on her front step, each of them holding several plastic bags from a local grocery store. “Uh…What are you doing here?” she said, feeling apprehensive enough to clutch her keys between her two fingers, ready to gouge out eyes if any of them got aggressive with her. It wouldn’t be the first time she had to get creative in a fight with a man, and somehow she figured it wouldn’t be her last, either.

 

“Just wanted to do you a favor,” Dylan, one of the more intelligent junior members of the MC said. “Got all your favorite foods. Cocoa Crispies, some cinnamon rolls, some pasta…”

 

“How did you know all that?” Stella said, feeling her anxiety spike as she looked into one of the bags to see a brightly colored birthday cake with her name written across the top. Her birthday had been the month before. Since she’d just broken up with Cameron at the time, she only celebrated with Nicole, whereas before it’d be a huge party with the entire MC.

 

She’d be lying to herself if she said that she didn’t miss it a little bit, being surrounded by that much welcoming energy. The MC really could be like a family at times, even if most of the time it was a dysfunctional, rotten family. But seeing the cake now, she felt a little chill go up her spine. What was this all about?

 

“We did our research,” one of the other members of the MC said to her, a guy whose name she couldn’t really remember even though he had a distinctive pock-marked face. “We also trimmed the bushes out front and brought some stuff you could use to plant your garden if you want.”

 

Stella was tempted to repeat herself, asking what the fuck was going on, but she got the sense that she wasn’t going to get a straight answer out of these guys. So instead she just grabbed a bunch of the grocery bags out of their hands and stuck her key in the door, telling them to stay out of her apartment while she put the groceries away. They waited on the steps the whole time, peering into her window while she put the perishable goods in her freezer and fridge.

 

She stepped back outside a few minutes later, holding a knife in one of her pockets just in case one of the guys got rough. She wasn’t going to be attacked in her own fucking apartment. She’d waited too long to have her own place, and she worked too damn hard to have it just ripped away from her because the MC decided that she was their property.

 

“What is this all about?” she asked, keeping one hand in the pocket of her pants, wrapped around the handle of the knife. She tried to keep her breathing as steady and calm as possible, unwilling to betray her fear to these random fuckers she barely knew who were intruding on her personal space.

 

“Just trying to do something nice for you,” Dylan said with a shrug. “We know you work hard. You deserve a break now and again. Hey, if you let us, we’ll do a couple loads of laundry for you today. Ain’t got nothing else to do right now.”

 

“Why are you doing this?” Stella said more firmly, glaring at them with as much malice as she could muster. “What do you want from me?”

 

The MC members looked at each other, wordlessly asking each other if they should be honest or not. Finally, Dylan turned back to her and spoke up. “Cameron would like to have dinner with you.”

 

“Dinner?” Stella repeated, flabbergasted. What the hell was Cameron up to now? Throughout all their break-ups, he’d never behaved like this, even once. Hell, he’d never even asked her out on a date before when they were together. Why was he doing this now?

 

“Yes. A nice dinner, just the two of you,” Dylan said. “He says he understands if you’re too busy, but he’d really like to see you. Just as friends.”

 

Stella was silent for a long moment, stewing over the information that Dylan had just shared with her, letting it sink in and trying to find the hidden meaning lurking within. There had to be a catch, right? Other than the obvious one that Cameron was trying to get back into her life any way that he could.

 

If there was a gun to her head, and she had to give her honest answer, the real thing that she wanted to do, she would have rejected them out of hand and marched back into her place to enjoy her groceries. She didn’t owe Cameron anything, not after so many years of mistreatment, not after she’d given him so many chances to turn his life around and stop acting like a dick.

 

But…the Marauders knew where she lived. They probably knew how to break in. With a snap of his fingers, Cameron could make them do other things, other not-so-nice things to make her feel unsafe. And it wasn’t like there was anything that Stella could do about it, either. The cops in this town were terrified of Cameron. He was the closest thing this community had to a judge, jury, and executioner. What could she do?

 

“Fine,” she finally said, practically spitting the word out of her mouth as if it was poison. “Tomorrow night. But we meet at the restaurant, okay? None of this showing up at my apartment unannounced bullshit. Tell him to text me.”

 

She turned on her heel and stormed into her apartment, locking the door behind her and drawing the blinds down so that the Marauders couldn’t see inside. She leaned back against her wall, away from the windows in case they could peek around the blinds. Stella wished she could call Nicole and tell her to come over, just so she’d feel less scared.

 

But she didn’t want to be weak. She didn’t want to be soft. She had to be strong. That’s how she’d survived this long, and it’s how she’d survive tomorrow night as well. She’d be tough. She had to be.

 

# # #

 

Stella

 

Stella dressed as conservatively as possible for her “date” the next night, wearing a thick black sweater over her dress so that she didn’t show any cleavage, as well as putting ill-fitting leggings on so that she didn’t run any risk of turning Cameron on inadvertently. She was waiting outside the restaurant for about five minutes when Cameron showed up, dressed in a sharp dress shirt and tight black slacks. Clearly he’d put in a lot of effort to look nice, dressing very differently than his usual uniform of a leather jacket and torn-up jeans.

 

“Good evening,” Cameron said as he approached, leaning in to place a friendly kiss on her cheek. Stella flinched back from his touch automatically, but if Cameron noticed, it didn’t show on his face. “Shall we go in? I’ve reserved us a table near the back. I know you like to be close to the bathrooms in restaurants.”

 

“Uh, thanks,” Stella said, her body stiff as she walked beside Cameron into the restaurant, following him back to the reserved table.

 

Before she could sit down, Cameron pulled out her chair for her, smiling at her calmly until she took her seat. He sat down across from her and immediately ordered a bottle of the most expensive wine possible, politely thanking the waitress before she walked away. This was not Cameron, at all. Usually he was rude and crude, ordering people around like he owned them. Where the hell was this polite act coming from?

 

“You look lovely tonight,” Cameron said, taking a breadstick from the center of the table and breaking it in half before handing part of it to Stella. “Dip it in the olive oil. It tastes great that way.”

 

Stella put the piece of bread down on her appetizer plate, staring down at it for a long moment rather than eating it. She had this awful, painfully paranoid thought that maybe the food was poisoned or something, as if Cameron went to such great lengths just to roofie her. Honestly, this whole “date” was so disorienting, so completely different than all of her other experiences with Cameron that she had no idea how to react.

 

“So. What have you been up to?” Cameron said, continuing to smile warmly at her as the waitress returned to pour them both glasses of red wine.

 

Stella allowed herself to take a couple huge gulps of wine before answering. If there was ever a time when she needed some liquid courage, it was now. She almost preferred it when Cameron was rough and mean. At least then she knew what to expect. But now she was so completely out of her depth, unsure of what to say or do to make this night go as smoothly as possible. “Um, just working a lot,” she said, hoping that would be the end of that discussion.

 

“Oh, so your new job is going well, then?” Cameron said in between little sips of wine. “That’s great! I’m so happy for you.”

 

“Thank you,” she said stiffly, shifting uncomfortably in her seat and avoiding direct eye contact with her ex.

 

“Is it a nice place?”

 

“It’s nice enough,” Stella said with a shrug. “I mean, it’s a bar. How nice can it really be?”

 

“Well, I don’t know. There are dive bars, like Stormwatch, and then there are more upscale places. You know, like in the city, when you have to pay a cover charge just to get in. Is your new place like that?”

 

Stella shook her head. “It’s a lot like Stormwatch, only…cleaner,” she said, laughing despite herself.

 

“Good, that’s good,” Cameron said, ripping off another piece of bread and dipping it in oil before placing it in his mouth. “And the crowds? Are they bad a lot of the time?”

Stella shrugged. “It really depends on the night. Like any other bar, I imagine. On weekends things are rough. They get really busy, but every other night it’s fine. Plus, I’ve got other people working with me who help me out, so it’s never a huge deal.”

 

“What kind of clientele do you tend to serve there?” Cameron asked, returning to his glass of wine to wash down the bread.

 

Stella was about to answer when the waitress returned to take their food orders. After the waitress walked away again, she said, “Well, mostly it’s just nice people who want a drink, you know, like anywhere else. A couple of the girls who used to hang around the MC and lost interest with whoever they were dating over there show up now and again, and they recognize me, which is nice. But sometimes, well, there are guys who get creepy and weird.”

 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Cameron said, his forehead wrinkling up in concern as he stared across at Stella. “Are you safe?”

 

Stella nodded, and for a brief moment she felt a little bit warm inside, thinking that Cameron still worried about her, and not even in a totally selfish way. Maybe there was a part of him that loved her, even if he was still a pretty fundamentally broken person deep inside. But within a few seconds she pushed those thoughts away, uncomfortable with the familiar part of her that always used to defend Cameron and make excuses for him.

 

That was the part of her that allowed her to be treated so badly for so many years, the part that allowed Cameron to cheat on her and emotionally manipulate her and control her. Well, no more. She wasn’t going to let herself care about him, not after knowing what the consequences would inevitably be.

 

“It’s fine, though. The crowds are nice. They tip well,” she said, trying to dismiss the topic. She would be more comfortable if they stopped talking about her. She was about to turn the conversation back around and ask some stuff about the MC, but Cameron cut her off, suddenly firing off questions much faster than before.

 

“Oh, yeah, the tips are good? Do you know what the turnover is for a place like that? Do you get to look at the books at all? I’d be so curious to know if stuff on that side of town is profitable, you know. Do you know?”

 

Stella shook her head, feeling a little bit dizzy from hunger and fear and uncertainty. Luckily, the waitress returned with their food, putting the lamb chops that Stella ordered earlier down in front of her. Stella immediately dug in, grateful for an excuse to focus on anything other than the questions that Cameron asked her. What the hell did she know about the financial operations of a bar? She had never even been to college, for Christ’s sake. And why did Cameron care, anyway? He was making more than enough money over on his side of town.

 

“So who’s the owner? You know, who’s your boss?” Cameron asked, twirling his spaghetti around his fork without actually putting the food into his mouth. There was a fire in his eyes, an intensity behind his words that made Stella uncomfortable, freezing her in her tracks and preventing her from swallowing for a few seconds until she finally realized that he was waiting for a response.

 

“Um, his name is Wesley,” Stella said, even though she regretted answering the question as soon as the words left her mouth. “Yeah, um, I don’t know him very well, though. He keeps to himself.”

 

“Where’s he from? Is he new in town or does he have family here?” Cameron asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Stella said slowly, stabbing her lamb with her fork and bringing a huge chunk of it to her mouth, chewing on it for a while to keep her mouth occupied and prevent more conversation. God, when will this night end? When will it be over? Stella silently prayed to God or whoever else was listening in on her thoughts.

 

But Cameron didn’t let up, apparently still encouraged by the fact that she was acknowledging his questions at all. “Is he affiliated with anybody?”

 

“What do you mean?” Stella asked, even though she figured she already knew the answer to his question.

 

Cameron looked around the restaurant for a bit before leaning in over the table and dropping his voice to a low volume. “I mean, any other MCs? Are the Thunder Rebels behind him?”

 

“I don’t know!” Stella said, even though she was pretty sure the answer was no. Still, she was beyond irritated at this point. Why the hell did Cameron care so much? What was his game here?

 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Cameron said, finally scooping up some of his pasta and transferring it to his mouth. He kept talking, his mouth full. “I’m sorry for pushing. I’m just so curious about what you’ve been up to, that’s all.”

 

“Are you sure?” Stella asked, feeling her skin prickle with anxiety, her hairs standing up at attention like they were getting ready to jump off her body entirely.

 

Cameron nodded and finished chewing. “I just like to know that you’re okay, you know. That you’re safe. Protected.”

 

That last word made Stella’s stomach turn over, the lamb she’d just ingested threatening to make a comeback. She didn’t know why it bothered her so much, but for some reason it felt sinister coming out of Cameron’s mouth, like it had an entirely different meaning, one that intended to hurt her rather than keep her safe. Stella shoved her plate away, the idea of eating any more meat repulsive to her at this point.

 

“Are you okay?” Cameron asked, his voice dripping with concern. Too much concern, honestly, like he knew exactly what kind of effect he was having on her.

 

Stella shook her head, breathing deeply to calm down. “I think I need to go home,” she said.

 

“Okay, I’ll give you a ride on my bike,” Cameron said, throwing a wad of twenty dollar bills down on the table and reaching for Stella’s hand. “Come on. Come with me.”

 

Stella hesitated for a moment. “I think I’d rather walk, if that’s okay with you.” She inwardly berated herself for adding the last half of that sentence. It shouldn’t have to be okay with him, she told herself. I’m the boss of me now. I’m the boss. He doesn’t get a say in what I do or don’t do.

 

But if that were true, Cameron apparently still hadn’t gotten the memo, because he shook his head and scoffed at her. “Nonsense, it’s thirty degrees outside. It’ll take you half an hour to walk home from here. I’m taking you home. End of story. Now, come on.”

 

Stella slowly got to her feet, briefly considering bolting out of the restaurant and screaming for help. She wondered what would happen if she did that. Would anyone actually help her? Would anyone listen? Would everyone just let Cameron carry her off anyway, knowing that he was the boss in this town?

 

In any case, she didn’t attempt it, too nervous to do anything to piss Cameron off while she was so vulnerable. She wished she’d at least brought her kitchen knife with her. Even if she couldn’t really do any damage with it, it made her feel better, like she had a fighting chance to stand up against Cameron if he tried something. But as it was, she was utterly weaponless, completely weak compared to him. There was nothing she could do.

 

She slowly followed Cameron out to the parking lot, where his bike was propped up against the outer wall of the restaurant. “Come on, get on the back,” Cameron said as he straddled his bike, revving up the engine until Stella did as instructed, shivering as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She used to feel so free doing this. She used to feel so rebellious and careless and wild, riding on the back of Cameron’s bike. But now it was the opposite. She felt like she was in chains, tied to him no matter how hard she tried to break free.

 

She breathed deeply, forcing her lungs to work like they were supposed to as Cameron’s bike soared out onto the streets, revving past all the traffic to get on the backroads. This was Cameron’s domain, his kingdom. He ruled these roads. The cops were too scared to patrol on them, knowing that Cameron likely had boys camped out in the bushes, ready to fire their guns off at the first sign of trouble. Out here, nobody could hear her scream, and anybody who did certainly wouldn’t care. She was trapped. She was stuck. She was fucked.

 

What’s he going to do me? Stella wondered as Cameron sped up, taking a sharp corner on a road that she barely even recognized. Is he going to kill me? Rape me? Take me back to the Marauders’ compound and never let me go? Any of them seemed like viable options, honestly.

 

But finally he turned off of the backroad, suddenly arriving in Stella’s neighborhood. She was taken aback by the sight of her own apartment as they rolled to a stop. She’d never taken that path before, but here she was, right on her own front lawn.

 

As soon as Cameron shut the engine off, Stella jumped off the bike. “Thank you,” she said quickly. “For taking me home. Goodnight.”

 

She turned quickly and headed toward the front door, her heart pounding in her throat as she heard Cameron’s footsteps follow her. “Stella! Wait up a second,” he said.

 

Stella shut her eyes and froze on the spot, praying silently that he wouldn’t force his way into her apartment. “I just wanted to give you a hug really quick,” Cameron said as he came up behind her, turning her around before wrapping his arms around her shoulders, chastely brushing their bodies against each other. “Goodnight.”

 

She couldn’t force herself to move for the longest time, screwed into place as she watched Cameron get back on his bike and ride off into the dark night, far away from her.

 

What the hell just happened? Cameron acted like a gentleman the whole night, save for the brief period when he asked intrusive questions about the Haven. What did he want from her? And what the hell was she supposed to do now?