CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Tuesday afternoon
Manda sat at T's side in his pickup truck, looking out at the high prairie west of Spokane.
Since this was her first trip to the Spokane area, and Tim had been intent on getting through on their way to North Idaho, she'd never seen the small communities around the city.
She was thrilled to be out of the hospital room, and to have this drive through a new area to take her mind off of the huge, gaping hole that was her future.
Not to mention the distraction from T-Bear's revelation that he—and possibly his Flyer brothers, but she had the horrible suspicion it was all him—had paid her bill at the hospital. She didn't know, but suspected it must be in the thousands of dollars, maybe even as much as ten thousand.
And how an unemployed clerk-slash-cleaning lady-slash-stock clerk was going to reimburse him ... she couldn't begin to imagine.
Please God don't let T-Bear’s 'brothers' decide the fastest route to payback was on her back.
As this had her breaking out in a clammy sweat, Manda forced her attention back to her surroundings.
"So, Airway Heights, huh?" she chirped, her voice shrill.
Luckily, accelerating on the straightaway between industrial developments, T-Bear didn't seem to notice. "Yeah, we got the Spokane airport and Fairchild USAF base, so I guess the city fathers figured they best pay homage. Us Flyers fit right in."
Other than the airport control towers to the south, Airway Heights looked like any other small town in the west. The main street had a big farm store, grocery store, some fast food chains and other small businesses.
Low hills lined the horizon to the west, scattered with evergreens. A tall water tower rose to the north, industrial buildings to the south.
Manda was glad the country out here was open. She loved trees, she loved being in them, especially in the summertime. But right now, that would be too much like being back at the Pine Cabins. She shuddered at the memory of the cramped, chilly and damp cabins, and the smell of mildew and old dirt.
As they rolled through the middle of town, T proudly pointed out a white building with a red-blue-and-white sign proclaiming it The Hangar Brewpub & Grill. Owned, he said, by his bro Pete and his fiance. "We'll have supper there soon. You'll love it. And I'll show you JJ's Auto another day."
He turned left, away from the brewpub. They headed south along a narrow paved road with fields on both sides. T pointed to a long, low one-story building coming up on the right. "There's the clubhouse . I'll give you a tour around later."
He pulled through an open gate into a paved parking lot. A row of gleaming motorcycles had been backed in before the building. They were big, shiny, and Manda recognized the Harley insignia on the nearest one. T parked next to a jacked-up, white pickup truck, and a silver sports car.
On the north end of the building, she could see a strip of privacy fencing. Other than that space, the complex was surrounded by open fields, one with a few horses and cows grazing in it.
As for the clubhouse itself, plate glass from the one-time flooring showroom still made up the front doors and the big windows beside them, but were now reinforced with steel bars, and heavy shutters, now open.
Continuing the aircraft motif prevalent in the town, a big, old airplane propeller had been mounted over the club house's front doors. As Manda stepped down from the truck, she blinked. "Is that a bra hanging up there?" she asked.
T chuckled. "Yep. Used to be a thong with it, but the wind blew it off. Now, come on in, and we'll get you settled."
Feeling a bit like she was being admitted to a fraternity house, Manda followed him into the building.
The interior was shadowed, but she could see they were in a big room, with a bar running along the right wall, pool tables and foosball along the left, and tables and chairs scattered throughout the middle. Ceiling fans moved lazily overhead, wafting the scents of lemon cleaner, beer, and cigar smoke.
The biggest flat screen she had ever seen took up a good portion of the back wall, with speakers on either side. Big sectional leather sofas slouched before it, along with low tables.
A couple of men in club vests sat at the bar, while the young man-bunned Streak stood behind it, leaning on his elbows. They all turned as T and Manda walked in, and Streak nodded.
Manda smiled back, hesitantly because the two strangers did not look welcoming.
One, a chunky man with a scraggly beard and hair, a cigar in his hand, scowled at her like she was a questionable intruder. The man with him was the skinny, hard-faced biker she'd seen at the restaurant with T Friday evening. He eyed her with open speculation.
"Hey, Bounce, Knife," T called. "This here's Manda. Streak, you already met," he added more quietly, to her.
Manda lifted one hand in a little wave. "Hi."
Streak grinned. The other men said nothing. T did not, to her extreme relief, steer her in their direction. Instead, they continued on toward the back corner of the place, where a wide hallway yawned.
"Bedrooms are back here," he told her. "First one on the left there is Stick's. Rocker's is next, I'm on the other side, right there. Kitchen's across the hall here. There's a women's bathroom farther back too."
He paused and opened the door of the second room, revealing a small room mostly taken up with a queen-size bed, a sturdy bureau and a bedside table. A narrow door stood open, revealing a bathroom.
On the bed lay a stack of clothing, a shoebox, and two shopping bags.
"Great," T said. "The old ladies came through for you. I told 'em you needed some things to get you started, an' since I don't know what you gals need, I turned them loose on it."
Manda sniffled, tears pressing against the back of her eyes. "That's so nice," she said, a hand to her mouth. "I can't... I don't know what to say."
He laid a warm hand on the back of her neck, and pulled her gently to his broad chest. Despite her good intentions to keep her distance, Manda went. It felt so good to be enfolded in his powerful arms.
He smelled of man and leather—and of old beer, honestly. He needed to do laundry. But right now she didn't care. She could feel his heart beating and his voice rumbling under her ear.
"Don't have to say nothin', just go with it. Now, I gotta get back to work for a few more hours. Left Moke holdin' the fort at JJ's. You want anything before I go? A soda, something to eat?"
"No," she mumbled. "I'm fine." She wasn't, but she refused to admit this. Again, he'd seen her at her weakest, and that was enough of that.
"All right. How bout you lay down for a while? The doc said you needed to rest up as much as you can for a few more days. I'll bring supper back with me, and you can meet some folks."
Manda looked at the big bed that took up most of the small room, and nodded without meeting his gaze again. Guilt suffused her, nearly as painful as her returning headache, because she should be smiling, thanking him, and such. But she couldn't deal with one more decision, one more kindness. Not now. She wanted, needed to lie down, pull the soft quilt over her head, and hide from the world.
The rest of it, she'd deal with when she had to.
He seemed to understand. "Right, then. See ya later."
After T closed the door quietly behind him, Manda stood by the bed. Then slowly, she looked around. At the tidy bathroom that smelled of cleaning products. At the dark red quilt, worn but smelling of fresh laundry.
At the stack of clothing and shopping bags.
She picked up the clothing and set it on the bureau, stacking the shoe-box next to that, and the shopping bags on the floor next to the bureau. Then she stepped out of her shoes, crawled onto the bed, put her head on the pillow, and pulled the quilt over her, until she was cocooned in it with only a small opening to breathe through.
She was safe here, she told herself fiercely. She was in T's clubhouse, where Rezan, Jere and any other disgusting allies dare not tread. And if they did, there were several big, scary guys loyal to T between them and her. She was safe.
Thus armored, she finally relaxed. And if her face was wet with tears when she fell asleep, no one but her knew.
She slept... but her dreams were far from sweet.
She'd had bad dreams at the hospital, and awakened in a cold sweat with her heart pounding and shadowy menace receding under the bright, fluorescent hospital lights. One of the nurses who happened to come into her room as she lay there miserable and panting had told her sympathetically that opiates often caused bad dreams and interrupted sleep.
Upon looking at Manda's chart, she'd said they had counselors on staff, and would Manda like to speak with someone?
Manda had agreed to do this, but her appointment had gotten lost in the shuffle, and she'd left the hospital with an apology from a flustered woman with a hospital badge, and a handful of brochures and phone numbers of local women's shelters and free counseling centers.
Since Manda had no way to get to these places anyway, she'd shoved the papers in the plastic bag her clothing had been in, and put off any such calls until another day.
Now, Manda was no longer on the strong IV painkillers, but her dreams only seemed more vivid.
In this one, she was back at the Pine Cabins. Rezan and Jere loomed over her, holding her captive and laughing as they told her everything they would do to her. She struggled feebly, but in the way of dreams her feet refused to move, and when she cried out, Rezan banged his fist against the wall near her head, and told her he'd hit her next.
She woke with a gasp of terror, sweating. Her heart racing, she fought her way free of the covers, and sat up to stare wildly around at the strange room. Where was she? Over a bar, or something? Loud country music played, a steady beat thumping, while a man sang about 'another drinkin' song'.
But something really had banged against the wall outside the room. Oh, God, had they found her? Was Rezan here now, to take her?
Then T's voice rumbled outside the closed door. "Hey, keep it down. Got a woman tryin' to sleep right there."
"So? Ain't like it's the middle of the night," another male voice replied.
"So, she's recovering from a head injury, for Chrissake."
“Ah-huh. And she’s gonna sleep through you bellowin’ at us how?”