Chapter 16

 

Ava

 

CRAP. HE’S MAKING his move.

“I don’t know. You seem like a nice guy. You’re obviously handsome, too. I thought that maybe we could get to know each other a little more. Especially since we’ll be spending a lot of time together in the next couple of days.”

“True. Handsome, huh?” he said as another waitress stopped at our table.

I smirked. “A little.”

“You two doing okay, or would you like another round?” she asked.

“How about one more?” he said, looking at me.

I nodded.

He ordered the drinks and then the waitress walked away.

My cell phone went off, startling me.

I reached into my purse to see who was calling. It was Millie.

“My mom,” I offered without thinking.

He gave me a puzzled look. “I thought you said you had no family?”

“She’s my foster mother,” I explained, kicking myself mentally. “My blood relatives are dead. She’s all I have.”

“You grew up in foster care?”

I nodded.

“What was that like?”

I laughed dryly. “A nightmare.” I took another drink of my cocktail and decided to tell him about my past, without giving anything else away. I explained that my birth mother had lost custody of me because of her drug addiction and I’d hopped from foster home to foster home up until meeting Millie.

“You moved around a lot. Why?” he asked, studying my face.

“Let’s just say that some of the foster parents were either assholes or just far too ‘nice’… if you know what I mean,” I replied, finishing my drink.

“They abused you?” he asked angrily.

I nodded and looked up from my empty glass. “I survived though. It’s true what say, ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. I can certainly vouch for that,” I said with a brittle smile.

“Fuck, I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he replied, a look of disgust on his face. “Did anyone get in trouble for it?”

“No. Nobody believed me. Or, decided not to because it was easier,” I replied, remembering the first time I told the wife of the first degenerate who’d touched me. I’d only been eleven. She’d accused me of lying and trying to get them kicked out of the foster program. I told Jayce about it and he looked like he wanted to murder someone.

“That’s fucked up,” he said, reaching over again to grab my hand. “Really, really fucked up. I wish I’d known you back then. I’d have done something about it. See, that’s one reason why I’m with the Gold Vipers. If they found out something like that was going on, they’d stop it.”

I smiled.

“Do you know if these people are still involved with foster care? The ones who did it to you?”

From the look on his face, he looked like he wanted to pay them a visit.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you remember the neighborhood the asshole who touched you lived in or anything like that?”

Of course I did. One never forgot the places they were abused. At least I couldn’t.

“I appreciate you wanting to help, but I’d rather just forget about it,” I said, moving my hand away from his as the waitress returned with our drinks.

“Here you go,” she said, setting our cocktails down in front of us. She included two shot glasses filled with orange liquid. 

“What’s this?” Jayce asked.

“Fireball. Compliments of Len,” she replied, nodding toward the table of Gold Vipers. “He said something about you two needing something to heat things up over here.”

We both looked over and Len raised his beer.

Jayce smiled and shook his head.

 

WE DRANK THE shots and talked for the next hour about the club and how ‘great’ they were. It was hard to listen to, but I kept a smile on my face. He also told me about his stint as a model, which intrigued me.

“How did you go from modeling to being in a biker gang?”

“Biker club,” he corrected. “And I’d wanted to belong to one long before I modeled, especially after attending some of the parties with Brass.”

He explained that his chapter used to be called the Steel Bandits before getting patched over. I’d already read about it online, but pretended to be clueless.

“Now the club is stronger and part of a bigger unit,” he said with a glint in his eyes. “People really take notice when you’re wearing Gold Viper colors, even as a prospect.”

“And that means a lot to you?” I mused.

“Respect means a lot to me. But, it’s more than that. It’s about the brotherhood and representing something we take pride in. You know, outsiders only know about what they see on the news, and everyone knows that the media will write anything that sells—bullshit or not. They don’t ever talk about the good things our club is involved in, like volunteering and raising money for local charities. Last month we raised twenty-thousand dollars and donated it to a homeless shelter up the road. Was that ever on the news?” He snorted. “Hell no. Because they’re only interested in making us look like criminals.”

The Gold Vipers didn’t need any help there, I mused.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” I replied. “Do you do this all year ‘round, then? Raise money for those in need?”

“During the holidays is when we do the majority of our charity work. It’s a hard time for people during that season and we’re committed to helping families who need help. Last year some of the clubs had guys dress up as Santa Claus and visit nursing homes. Tarot volunteered for our chapter. We all got together and delivered cookies Lily and some of the other Old Ladies made. You know, some of those people never get visitors, let alone presents.”

“I bet. It’s sad. I’m sure it was very special for them,” I replied. It still didn’t excuse the fact that they were a bunch of criminals.

He smiled. “Anyway, enough about me. What about you?”

I hadn’t really learned much about him other than he was affiliated with the club, had modeled once, and was now a tattoo artist. For all I knew, he was a cold-blooded killer with a bad temper, a drinking problem, and dog he kicked around when he got home.

“There’s not much to tell,” I said.

He asked me what I did for a living.

“I’ve waitressed here and there. Nothing like this place,” I said with a smile.

Jayce chuckled. “Obviously. Tell me about your foster mom. Millie.”

I gave him the basics, explaining that she’d saved me from the system, provided me a loving home, and helped me to move forward.

“You love her very much,” he stated, studying my face.

I nodded. “I don’t know what would have happened if she hadn’t come into my life. Like I said, before living with her, I’d been transferred from home to home. Of course, not all of them had been horrible, but none had been terribly great, either.” I stared off into space, smiling wistfully. “The thing about Millie was that she actually cared from the get-go, although it took me awhile to figure it out. Thank goodness she had the patience to deal with my anger and stubbornness.”

“She sounds like a great lady.”

“The best.”

“So, what is it that you’re running from then?”

Surprised, I looked at him. “Why do you think I’m running from something?”

“Because you don’t know where you’re going and you’re leaving behind a woman who supports and loves you. Coming out this way isn’t work-related and you haven’t mentioned anything about a psychotic ex hunting stalking you.”

“Maybe I’m just trying to find myself?” I replied, smiling.

He raised his glass. “I can appreciate that.”

I laughed and raised my drink, clinking it against his.

“Little did you know that you’d find yourself here. At a strip-joint with a total stranger,” he added.

“Little did I know,” I repeated. A stranger who I had to keep remind myself was the enemy, no matter how pretty he was.