Delilah
“Stay here?” What the hell? I’m not going to stay here, locked in this office, after all of… that. That’s some bullshit! Race just waltzed me into headquarters, screwed me in public, put a claim on me… and then, he expects me to stay put? He has to be out of his mind.
I want to call him out. I want to chase him down as he closes the door and pound my fists into the glass until I can make him listen, but the truth is that I am exhausted. My entire body feels spent after – after what he did. After he took me like that. My legs quiver slightly and my chest tenses around my ribcage, my heart still beating hard, threatening to burst out. The taste of him lingers in my dry mouth, and his scent feels permanently etched into my nostrils. I realize I’ll have to sit back down from the haze he’s put me in just to bring myself together.
The room grows silent. It’s the kind of deep, dark lack of noise that makes your mind wander. Where the hell did he go? Why is he taking so long? Those men peeked in on us doing the deed. They saw it was the real deal, and that I was consenting. Could there be more questions to if Race could put a claim on me? And if so, how much more would I have to do to prove that I am willingly giving myself up to him? To a man I’ve only known for a short period of time. To a man I’ve only slept with twice now.
I don’t know if Race is his real name or what. I don’t know if he’s from Colorado or New York or Australia! I don’t know where he’s gotten all those scars on his body – the ones I try to pretend to ignore but am oddly fascinated by the pattern they make along the lines of his tattoos. I know nothing of that or of him, but I’m forced into giving myself away on the hopes and prayers that he, of all people, can figure out who is trying to take me.
The kind of quiet I find myself in right now gives a girl some time to think and reflect. It’s been a long time since I’ve had enough silence to sort through my thoughts. If I’m not working or drinking, I’m spending time listening to Ariel cry about her man being gone from home for so long. There’s never time for me to process the details of my life like I need to do now.
Enemies? I’ve got a few. I got some bad blood going in high school, and during the year I tried to get through community college for a nursing degree that never worked out. I remember one girl in particular – snooty nose, bubblegum pink backpack, and blonde hair down to her flat ass. She would look over her shoulder at me and sneer for absolutely no reason. Later, I found out that the only reason why she knew me was because I slept with her ex one drunken night. But a girl like that wouldn’t put a hit out on a long-ago grudge. He wasn’t that good.
Speaking of lovers, there are not many on my list that would be capable of this. Not frequently sleeping around with club guys has gotten me a pretty straight reputation within my circles. It also means that the men in my life are harmless. They are flies compared to Race – easily squashed and completely harmless besides buzzing around when they shouldn’t be. There was only Mitch, the guy who disappeared on me, who could fit the description of running with a club, but he was loyal to the Bad Devils. I couldn’t see him trying to turn over on me after all this time.
So no boyfriends, no friends, and little family to speak of… meaning I was left with absolutely no one. Whoever is hunting me down is a ghost to me. I can’t see them, but I can damn well feel them creeping around my life, shaking me to the bone. If his or her’s goal was to chase me straight into the arms of the Bad Devils, they could call it a success, because after all these years promising myself that I wouldn’t end up like my mama with a broken heart and broken ties to the Devils, I’m here sitting on this couch waiting for a MC man to tell me my fate.
I’ve got to get out of here. I’m going stir-crazy as the minutes’ tick by and there’s no sign of Race anywhere. I walk slowly towards the window, being careful, so my shoes don’t make any noises on the cement floor. I push the large blind to the side just a hair, enough to let an eyeball stick out. I see the men in the warehouse still sitting around drinking near the bar. The ladies grind and dance on those holding them down while other men watch with hungry eyes. Behind them, a smaller group goes to work unloading and loading boxes of merchandise. They’re peons, most likely, and thus will probably never get a seat on the couch.
What I don’t see are the men who were supposed to watch out for Race and me. They’ve vanished; hopefully satisfied that they got their fill of me spread wide for Race. When he left, I didn’t hear Race give them their marching orders or to stay on guard in case I tried to escape. Maybe they wandered off on their own, too bored to care about the laid up girl that was now some other man’s property? Who would want to stand around watching someone they couldn’t get their dirty, greasy hands on?
I’ve got to go for it. If anything, I’ll make up some excuse, like needing to use the bathroom or wanting some fresh air. I’ll play dumb if need be. I can turn on those sweet, innocent girl charms when I’m forced to. But nothing is going to stop me from finding out what is going on with Race.
Luckily for me, my captors are too occupied to care when I slip out the office door. Looking back over my shoulders, I watch two women leaning their half-naked bodies over their laps as they linger in lounge chairs off to the side. Some golden liquid in a label-less bottle is passed between the four of them. Like them, no one seems to care that I’m wandering out in the open, darting between the dusty and stained furniture and the large pile of cardboard boxes.
Behind me, a familiar voice yells, “What do you mean, Race? You actually think that bullshit is true?”
I run off towards it, careful to not bring any more attention to myself. I head back towards an attached garage, waiting in an unlit hallway around the corner. Peeking around the small passthrough wall, I see the backside of Race as he hovers over someone else’s bike. A man lies at his feet, turning screws on the engine. I recognize him vaguely as one of the old dogs. He’s been around since my daddy and mama were part of the club, but he was never anyone important. He couldn’t be now. Most of the guys my mama’s age were retired out or back to civilian status. But there he was, wearing colors and hassling Race like he owned the damn club.
“Yeah, Tony. I do think it’s true. Someone’s after the girl, and I have a suspicion it has to do with her past, her history. You know her family, so I need to know every detail. Got it?”
The old man sighs and gets to his feet. He dusts the dirt off of his crusty looking jeans and leans slightly against the bike he’s fixing up. I try not to stare as he studies Race. The last thing I want is to be caught at this point; I want to hear what the old man has to say about me and my lot.
“Her daddy was a Bad Bastard. But I think you know that, or you wouldn’t be talking to me. Her mama was a claim too. He got her knocked up and put a ring on it before her daddy could come after the club with a shotgun and the boys from his neighborhood. Jacob, her dad, he was a son of a bitch – rough guy with a plan always in the back of his head. He’d attempted a coup one time, but it failed, and he was pushed back down the ranks. He deserved the punishment, so he didn’t say much about it. Took his lot and worked up again.”
“Then why did he disappear?” Race jumps in. “What happened to him?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it? The rumor was that he got in bad with the club president again. He pulled some shit or tried to take over but failed to get enough support. If that’s true, he would have asked me to join in. I had the ear of everyone, but he didn’t ask me shit. The other rumor, well, some think he got taken down by the Road Knights on some hush-hush supply run outside of L.A. County. Devils covered it up to avoid paying the widow what she was owed.”
“What about you? What do you think happened to the guy?”
“I’ve got my theories. Most of them are about the girl’s mama. She’s a feisty one – or was, anyway. Like Jacob, Shannon had her plans. She was always meddling with the girls of the club, making drama or trying to gain some power for herself. I think she thought herself the Queen of the Bad Devils. She didn’t get her chance. Without Jacob around, she was done with the club. No claim meant no protection. And if you’re a girl who’s used to MC lifestyle, you sure as hell are gonna be pissed when you’re not offered so much as a night call by the security rounds let alone the money the club owes you when your man goes down on the job.”
My breath hitches in my throat hearing someone speak about my mama that way. To me, she’s always been this kind of frail creature, too delicate to touch. Since my dad’s disappearance, she always felt a million miles away from me. I knew at the time, even being so young, that she was having a hard time with it. We had to move homes, and my mama had to go back to work at the diner her friend owned. It was sad shit to see her come home late at night, mascara streaks on her cheeks and sweat stains on her white shirts. I had become used to seeing her in tight black dresses and leather boots.
Race knocks me back to the present as he asks, “Then what about the local clubs? Is there any connection to her family now? Anyone who may want to get at her to get to her mom or her dad?”
“Not that I can guess at, son.” Tony walks out of my line of sight to light up a clove cigarette as he adds, “No, the person you need to be asking isn’t me. I’m not the expert or the historian, though most of the younger boys like to think of me as some Bad Devils scholar.”
“Then who?” Race growls, frustrated.
Before the man can answer, I let out a loud, unmissable squeal from the hand grabbing me around the shoulder. The person spins me towards them, but in the dark, I only hear the slurred words exclaim, “What the fuuuuuck are yous doin’ back here, Del? I woulda thought that Race woulda sent ya home. Ya needda ride or sumthin’?”
I can smell Seb’s breath better than I can see him. How he managed to get drunk in the short time between us last seeing one another back in the warehouse is beyond me, but he’s lit enough to not realize I’m actually hiding in the shadows. I don’t even bother trying to get the man to lower his voice. He’s already given me away.
“What the hell are you doing out here, Del? Did I not tell you to stay put in the office?”
I can’t help but respond, “I didn’t think that being your claim meant that I had to give up my free will, Race.”
“It means you do what’s fucking good for you and stay put and out of the way.”
“You’re discussing my past, am I right?” I ask, knowing the answer. I swivel my head around Race’s shoulder to get a glimpse of the old man. He gives me a soft smile through the wrinkles and gray beard, but there is a warning in his eyes.
“Yeah. I’m trying to save your damn life and get this club out of danger. I don’t need you messing around with it, ya hear me?” Race practically pushes me over with his roar. He paces a few steps, clearly debating between marching me back through the warehouse or letting me be. Finally, he settles on another command I don’t expect. “Head upstairs to the apartment. This fool can show you the way. I’ll be up behind you in a few minutes. And this time, I expect you to stay put.”
“I’m not a dog or a child,” I shoot back as Seb takes me by the arm. “You don’t get to bark out orders and expect me to follow.” It’s the bravest I’ve been all night, and I know I’m testing boundaries here, but he needs to know that I am not my mom or my dad. I’m my own person with my own backstory. Their story has nothing to do with mine – at least, I don’t think it does.
Race takes a step towards me, an inferno burning in his eyes. He turns down the volume of his voice as he whispers, “Get the hell out of here before I pick you up over my shoulder and force you into that apartment. And I can promise that you won’t like how I punish you from there.”
“You promise?” I chide him on. Every part of me tingles with anticipation to see just how far he’ll let this go.
“It’s not a promise, Delilah; it’s a threat. And it’s one I would take seriously if I were you. You just saw what I was capable of back in that office.”
My throat goes dry as I take one last, long defiant look at him. This was going to be no fun at all, but it has to be done. I stamp my foot on the ground, pulling away from Seb. With eyes tearing daggers through him, I call his bluff. “I’m not moving from this spot, Race. Not until you make me.”
And as he threatened, or promised, I don’t even realize my feet are up and off the ground until they are dangling down his chest and heading straight through the warehouse. A hundred eyes watch as he carries me up the steps and to the second-floor doors. The metal fire door slams behind us with a woosh.
Everything goes silent again.