VINCE
July 1st, 2014
I did my best to open my eyes and tried to focus on my surroundings. The unfamiliar room was dark, illuminated only by the streetlights shining in through the cracks between the blinds. After a few long minutes of my eyes adjusting, I tossed my legs off the side of the bed and attempted to stand.
With each breath I took, it felt as if a knife was being inserted into my chest. I sat on the edge of the bed and searched my mind for memories of what had happened. After a few more minutes of confusion, I recalled the events of the Sunday night that got me to where I was.
A disagreement about a parking spot turned into a fight, and the fight was over almost before it started. The mouthy – and very disrespectful – driver of the truck was put in his place with half a dozen quick punches and a short choke hold. The other three passengers in the truck were a totally different story. While holding the driver in a choke hold and doing my best to explain the benefits of being respectful – all the while attempting not to actually choke him – one of his three friends blindsided me with a punch. Before I knew it, I was on the ground being kicked and stomped by three cowboys.
As they laughed and turned to walk away, I cut the calf of one of them. Through the leg of his jeans – and from the back of his knee to his ankle – I dug my knife as deep as I could, dropping him to the ground as he turned to walk away. As his two friends carried him away, I crawled to my bike and rode the three blocks to the closest place I knew to go.
Assuming I was still at Sienna’s home, but not sure of anything, I once again tried to stand. As I moaned in agony and relaxed on the edge of the bed, the bedroom door opened.
“Don’t you dare try to get up,” she said as she opened the door.
Although I couldn’t see her clearly, her voice was enough for me to know who she was. After a short and almost blind stare on my part, the bedroom light came on.
“Got to, I got a job I got to do tomorrow,” I said as I shaded my eyes with my hand.
“Tomorrow being Monday?” she asked as she walked to the edge of the bed.
I sighed softly and nodded my head. “Yeah.”
“I don’t understand how in the hell you do anything without a phone, and it’s Tuesday, so you’re a day late,” she said harshly as she stood in front of me with her hands on her hips.
“Fuck. Tuesday?” I asked as I glanced upward.
She sat down beside me and cleared her throat. “Technically, yes. It’s about 1:30 am. And Monday’s passed, so yeah. It’s Tuesday. You’ve been asleep on and off for twenty-four hours.”
“Swelling’s gone down quite a bit, and the stitches look pretty good,” she said as she closely inspected my face.
“Stitches? You stitched me?” I asked as I reached for my face.
She slapped my hand away from my face and shook her head. “Don’t you dare touch it, it’ll get infected. And, fuck no, I didn’t stitch you. You’d look like some pieced together sock monkey if I did. I got a nurse and a PA over here and they took care of you.”
I gazed down at the floor, swallowed heavily, and nodded my head. At the time, I only wanted to get somewhere where I felt safe. Coming to her house was inconsiderate on my part, undoubtedly unexpected on her part, and troublesome at the least.
“Look, I don’t want you thinking I’m some weirdo, ‘cause I’m not. You live two blocks from the busiest intersection in this city, and although I don’t live close to here, I ride by here a couple times a day…”
“Save it,” she interrupted.
I shook my head. “No, just hear me out.”
“Some of the fellas run in packs, and some hang out at the clubhouse and do whatever comes up. I’m a loner. I mean, I’m loyal to the MC, and I love the brotherhood, but I run alone. I just don’t trust people. Not really,” I paused, inhaled a shallow breath, and winced from the pain.
She shook her head and tilted it toward my mid-section. “He said you probably have cracked ribs. Based on the boot prints, anyway.”
“Feels like it,” I coughed.
“How many stitches?” I asked as I raised my hand toward my cheek.
Another slap of my hand and a sharp exhale reminded me of her obviously protective nature.
“Thirteen on the big cut, and I think four on the small one,” she said as she leaned in front of me and inspected my wounds.
“You look a lot better than you did,” she said.
I shifted my eyes toward the floor. “I’ll pay for whatever it cost. You got friends in the medical field, huh?”
“Nope. I did my best to drag you in here, and gave up half way. I made a quick Craigslist ad in the personals. Got a lot of responses, too. It was the only thing I could think of that wouldn’t get the cops over here,” she said.
Still staring down at my bare toes, I nodded my head in shame. “Appreciate it.”
“So, as I was saying. No phone, and riding alone as always, I was up at Central and Rock. At Walt’s. Place was packed. I pulled in from the east, and there was one stall left. Some truck was just sitting there, and I sat there on my bike and waited for this prick to park, and he just sat there. So I parked and hopped off the bike. As I’m walking toward the bar, the driver gets out and calls me motherfucker for taking his spot. Ended up beating the shit out of his cowboy ass, but his buddies got the best of me. I’d have never made it to the hospital, and someone had already called the cops and an ambulance, so I left in a little bit of a hurry. I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “So, you’ve never said. Just what is it that you do? You know, for a living?”
I stared down at the floor and thought of the best way to explain my situation. After a short pause, I glanced in her direction. My eyes were swollen, I had a throbbing headache, and I was still a little dazed from the beating, but it was pretty easy to see that she was an extremely beautiful woman.
She looked different than she did when I met her. On that night, in her filthy sweats and half-drunk with her hair in a ponytail, there was no doubt she was an attractive woman. Tonight, however, she was even more so. With her hair down over her shoulders and her concerned brown eyes studying me, it was difficult not to stare at her. After a short time of enjoying her beauty, I once again shifted my eyes to the floor.
“Resolutions manager,” I said flatly.
“That didn’t sound very sincere. And what does that mean anyway?” she asked.
“I resolve things,” I said as I glanced toward her.
“Be more specific,” she said.
“Debt collector?” I said as I shrugged my shoulders. It came out with a hint of uncertainty, sounding more like a question than an answer.
She chuckled and turned her head in my direction. “What, you’re not sure?”
I glanced upward. “I’m sure. It’s just not something I have to describe very often.”
“Look, I’ve read enough books that I know club business isn’t up for discussion, so don’t worry about explaining anything if you don’t want to,” she said.
“What books?” I asked, almost bursting into laughter while I spoke.
“Lots of books. MC Romance books,” she responded.
I coughed a laugh and reached my aching ribs. “What the fuck is an MC Romance book?”
“It’s a love story about a member or members of a motorcycle club. Most of them are a series of books, each one about a different member of the MC. You know, one will be the president, the next the sergeant-at-arms, maybe a prospect, or the enforcer, or whatever. It’s a subgenre of books. They’re pretty popular,” she said.
“I’ll be fucking damned,” I said.
“You hungry?” she asked.
“Kind of,” I responded.
In actuality, I was starving, but I didn’t want to impose any more than I already had.
“Eggs, bacon and hash browns sound good?” she asked.
I did my best to smile and nodded my head.
“Be right back,” she said.
She stood from the edge of the bed and studied me with smiling eyes for a moment before turning away. There was no doubt in my mind that whoever ended up securing Sienna as a wife or girlfriend would have someone very special.
I just knew that person would never be me.