Chapter Six
“That’s fuckin’ classic. Isla Rose used to be your best friend in high school. Ella’s gonna flip over that one,” Skull said before taking a big bite out of his bacon cheeseburger.
“It’s fuckin’ strange. I knew there was something I recognized in her, but I didn’t figure it was Jordan. Damn weird.” Sangre stirred cream into his coffee.
“You didn’t know she was in a band?” Army asked.
“No. If I did, then I’d know the fuckin’ name of the band and know it was her.” He gripped his coffee cup and looked out the window. Sometimes Army asked the stupidest questions.
“It’s actually kinda funny ’cause you were hitting on her at the club.” Chains put a piece of banana cream pie in his mouth.
Sangre shook his head. “I wasn’t hitting on her.”
“Yeah, you were, dude,” Skull said.
“Big time,” Army added.
“For sure,” Chains mumbled.
“Fuck you,” Sangre replied as the men laughed and poked each other, him included.
“Admit it, bro,” Chains said.
Scrubbing his face, Sangre looked at his brothers. “I may have been hitting on her, but I didn’t know who the hell she was. What can I say? I like flirting with women.”
“And now?” Army motioned the waitress over.
Sangre shrugged one shoulder. “Now, I know it’s Jordan. She was my friend and still is, so it’s different.”
“I give this ‘just friends’ shit three weeks tops.” Army turned to the waitress. “Hey, Tammy, what kind of cream pie do you have left?”
“Chocolate, coconut, and lemon meringue,” she said while craning her neck.
“No more banana?” Army’s eyes darted to the counter.
“If there was banana, she would’ve fuckin’ said banana.” Sangre splayed his hands out on the table.
“Just checking, dude. Chill, will you?” He quirked his lips and kept repeating the choices under his breath.
“While he decides, do you want me to freshen up your coffee?” she asked Sangre.
“Sure. Thanks.”
Tammy came back with a fresh pot of coffee. She was the Night Rebels’ favorite waitress, and they always asked for her section if she was working. In her mid-forties and raising two teenagers on her own had to be tough, so the guys tipped her very well, and her warming smile whenever she saw them showed that she appreciated it.
“Did you decide on the pie yet?” she asked.
When Army didn’t respond, Sangre pushed the table toward him. “This isn’t a fuckin’ complicated algebra equation you have to figure out. It’s a damn piece of pie. I’m sure Tammy’s got other people to wait on.”
“Chocolate,” Army said.
“Coming right up.” She chuckled and walked away.
Army shoved the table back at Sangre and glared. “What the fuck’s your problem? Do you work for the goddamn union?”
“Maybe he’s just pissed that he can’t screw the rock star who is now his best friend,” Skull said, straightening out the table.
“Maybe you should shut the fuck up or we can take it outside.” Sangre’s nostrils flared as anger licked at his nerves.
“Overreacting is a sure sign that Skull’s onto something.” Chains pushed his plate away from him.
Sangre glowered at him and lifted his fist. “You want some of this too?”
The three men chuckled, and Sangre scooted out of the booth and jumped to his feet. “I’m outta here. When you assholes grow the fuck up, let me know.” He threw a twenty on the table and stormed away, lifting his chin at Tammy as he passed the lunch counter.
The early summer breeze carried the light scent of jasmine. Sangre jumped on his Harley, craving a ride through the backroads so he could clear his head. He had a few hours before he had to relieve Eagle at Isla’s house. Leaving the main streets behind, he increased his speed and rode the mostly deserted roads leading to Chaco Canyon.
After thirteen years, she was back in his life. He remembered how she’d left without even so much as a goodbye. To say he’d been hurt was an understatement. He couldn’t figure out why she hadn’t told him her family was leaving. He’d been taken off guard by her actions. And now she was back in Alina, singing in a kickass band, looking hotter than hell, and wanting to be friends again. What the hell am I gonna do?
The Harley turned and twisted up the steep mountain until he arrived at the top of one of the smaller peaks. Birds swooped in the crisp air against the backdrop of a clear blue sky.
Crouching down on his haunches, he peered out at the horizon: Carpets of green blanketed the mountains; bursts of colorful wildflowers painted the sides of the canyon. The rushing of the river below echoed against the canyon walls. He was the only one there, and when things became tough, or he just needed to get away from everyone and everything, this was his go-to place.
He and Jordan—Her name is Isla … remember that—used to come to this spot a lot when they were in high school. She had a real tough time at home with her tyrannical dad, so he shared his place with her, taking her on the back of a motor scooter way before he even had his driver’s license. He chuckled at the memory of the two of them on the open road on a scooter that barely went forty miles per hour.
Sitting on the ground, he pulled a needle from a pine tree and chewed on it, a spray of freshness filling his mouth. As he sat there, memories of his childhood flooded his mind. Front and center was himself—a nine-year-old boy in a new neighborhood, kicking rocks alone until the eight-year-old girl next door came out and asked him what he was doing. She’d shown him her frog and then the bugs she’d caught that morning. He couldn’t believe a girl wasn’t afraid of bugs. All of his sisters were, and his mom would always call his dad to kill the stray spiders and other insects that crawled into the house. From that day on, he and Isla had become inseparable.
Back then she’d been a tomboy, wearing jeans all the time, baseball caps, hair in pigtails, and keeping up with him and all the other neighborhood boys as they climbed trees, explored culverts, picked up worms, and played touch football. Isla’s curvy body, long hair, and heart-shaped face blurred the tomboy of the past. I can’t believe how fuckin’ hot she looks. But when he really thought about it, he knew she’d blossom into a real babe.
When she’d turned twelve, something happened: She grew breasts, and her straight lines were now round and curvy. Funny feelings had punched at his stomach whenever he’d look at her or see her in a bikini when they’d go swimming at the community pool. He’d changed too—he became taller with facial hair and muscles. He’d catch her looking hard at him when she didn’t think he was watching. When he’d brush against her, instead of stickiness and grit, her skin felt soft and smooth. She didn’t smell like dirt and fresh air but more like cotton candy and fruit punch.
Sangre ran a hand through his hair then glanced at his phone; he had less than an hour to get back to Alina and relieve Eagle. Pushing up, he took another look at the awe-inspiring vista and walked over to his bike.
The minute he pulled in front of Isla’s house, Eagle got out of his car and came over. He bumped fists with him.
“Anything suspicious?” Sangre asked.
“Nah. Mark said it was quiet last night as well.”
“Yeah, I talked to him.”
“Cueball said that he’ll be here at eight tomorrow morning. Do you need anything before I head out?”
“No. I know you’re gonna hear this when you get back to the club, so before the story gets all fucked up, I want to tell you that I know Isla. She went by the name Jordan back when we hung out.”
Eagle’s eyes widened. “No shit? You guys dated?”
“No, not that. We were really good friends. Best friends, actually. When my dad got promoted at Reland’s Candies, we moved out of our crappy-ass neighborhood and into the Sunnyside area. Isla lived next door to us. We hung out a lot and went to the same schools since I was nine.”
“What happened?”
“Her family moved to California and we lost touch. That’s how shit goes when you grow up.”
Eagle glanced at the house then back at Sangre. “That’s a small fuckin’ world.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “No shit. Anyway, it’s good connecting again.”
“Yeah. I never had a friend that was a chick. Wasn’t it hard like when you were in high school?”
“We were friends. I respected that.”
“You didn’t answer my question, so I’m gonna guess it was hard as hell. She’s a looker too. This is gonna be interesting.” Eagle sniggered.
“What the hell does that mean?” Once again, anger pricked his skin.
“I’m just saying that she’s hot, you guys have a past, and you just broke up with Skylar. You know?”
The muscle in his jaw tightened. “We’re friends and she’s a client, so no, I don’t fuckin’ know.”
“Hey, Steve. Oops … I mean Sangre.”
He looked at the porch and sucked in his breath. The early evening sun gave a rosy glow to Isla’s skin and a sparkle to her hair like a rare tanzanite gem. Jean cut-offs revealed legs that went on for miles, and a form-fitting, low-scooped T-shirt molded perfectly over her breasts. Damn. Waving back, he said, “Hey.”
“Come over here.”
“I gotta go. See you tomorrow,” he said.
Eagle clasped his shoulder. “Like I said, this is gonna be interesting. Later.” Laughing softly, he went to his car.
As Sangre walked toward the front porch, he heard Eagle’s car pull away from the curb. I don’t know why it’s so hard to believe that a man and a woman can be friends. “Hey,” he said again as he walked up the porch steps. He glanced at the wicker table and saw two beer bottles, a plate of cheese and crackers, and bowl of green olives.
“I made us some refreshments. I figured you may want a little break.”
“I just got here,” guilt hit him when he saw her face fall, “but I’m always ready for a break.”
Brightening up, she plopped down in one of the wicker chairs. “I slept so well last night. It was probably the first night I slept all the way through in a while. Not worrying about a psycho fan breaking in and hurting me goes a long way for a good night’s sleep. How was your day?”
“Busy.” He sat in the chair next to her and picked up the beer bottle. “Did you stay in contact with Madison?”
“Yes. She’s come out to visit with me in LA many times over the years. She even thought of moving there, but then her mom had a stroke and she had to stay here to help out with that. Don’t you ever see her?”
“Not really. I don’t really hang out with citizens.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Non-bikers.”
She leaned over and picked up a piece of cheese and nibbled at it, her gaze fixed on him. “How do your parents like you being in the Night Rebels? It’s an outlaw club. I mean real badass like the Insurgents or the Mongols. I looked it up online last night. It’s dangerous.”
He laughed. “You’re too funny. I know what it is. I’m a member.”
She busted out laughing. “That’s right.”
Neither of them could stop laughing, and the more they tried, the harder it was. This is good. Being with her, laughing about nothing. Just like we used to.
“You’re the only one I can laugh with like that, can you believe it? I’m going to tell you something.” After a slight pause, she announced, “People think I’m kinda weird.”
“Are you still telling people about haunted houses, trivial facts, and what strange combination of foods you like to eat?”
“But you never thought I was weird. Maybe your grownup side does now.”
“I think your weirdness is what I liked. When I was younger, I never wanted to walk to the same beat everyone else did. I liked that you didn’t either. It totally figures you’re in a rock band, have beautiful blue hair, and hold up a middle finger to your dad and anyone else who doesn’t get you.”
Her hazel eyes sparkled. “That’s what I liked the most about you—you got me. When I’d write dark songs, you knew where they were coming from.”
Sangre nodded. “I’m glad you did something with your music. You were in every musical at Jefferson. It’s cool to live your dream.”
“Are you living yours? I remember you had a badass vibe about you, even when we were kids, but I never heard you mention you wanted to join a biker club.”
“I was restless as fuck.” She nodded in agreement. “I needed something different, and when I met some dudes who were in the club, I thought I’d check it out. I hung around the club for almost a year before I decided it was the life for me. I prospected and then patched in. I’ve never regretted it. There was no fuckin’ way I was gonna end up like my old man, working for someone else, day in and day out. My brother Jim is at Reland’s, Connor works there, and my sister Nicole’s husband, Joe, works there. They’re all at the same damn place. It wasn’t for me. No. Fucking. Way.”
“We’re both unconventional. All I heard when I was growing up was that I had to go to college, get an education, and then get a good corporate job. My sisters and brother followed that road, but I ended up dropping out of UCLA my third year when I joined Iris Blue. Fiona and Katherine kept telling me I was crazy, my mom worried I’d never be able to support myself, my dad called me a loser and a lot of other names, and when Jerry and I talk once a year, he always asks me when I’m going to get a real job. They just don’t fucking get it.”
“I remember you’d told me that you had to be able to express yourself. That you didn’t care about money, just about respecting yourself and being proud of who you are. You did it, babe.” Red stains painted her cheeks and she looked away. What the hell? Did I embarrass her?
“Are you still friends with Jay?”
“No.” The mention of his old friend from high school pissed him off. Jay and Isla had dated, and it used to kill him every time he’d see them together, holding hands or kissing. The jealousy he’d felt surprised him, but back then it happened a lot whenever boys would gawk at her or ask her out. Shaking his head, he tried to dispel the memories.
“Does he still live here?”
“I don’t know. I’m not the public census.” He popped several olives in his mouth, chomping hard.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Wait … why are you mad because I asked about Jay?”
“Not mad. I just don’t know anything about him. Does Madison know you’re here?”
“Of course. She’s the only one who did until just recently. I needed the peace and quiet like I told you last night.”
“Right. You still wanna get those chili cheese fries?” The way her face lit up tugged at something deep down inside him. Pushing it away, he rose to his feet. “Let’s get going.”
Crazy shit twisted inside him, and he wanted no part of it. They’d go to Alfonso’s for some killer Mexican food, and he’d stop at one beer only. There was no way he wanted to have too much to drink and do something stupid. He couldn’t go there—didn’t want to. Not at all. He would keep his focus on the conversation, keep his eyes above her neck, and not inhale her intoxicating scent too deeply. That had to be the plan. He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes.
We’re friends.
“Ready to go?” she asked as she came back outside. She’d changed her shorts to skinny jeans, and he couldn’t help but look at her butt while she locked her front door.
“Above the neck. Above the neck,” he muttered the phrase like a mantra.
“What?” She put on a pair of sunglasses and walked to his bike.
“Nothing. Just thinking aloud. You okay with going on the Harley?”
“Yeah. I loved the ride yesterday.”
As they rode to the restaurant, she rested her cheek against his shoulder, her scent swirling around him. He saw Army and Goldie talking in front of the club’s tattoo shop. Both of them lifted their chins at him as he passed. He saw the smirk on Army’s face, but he didn’t give a shit. Having Isla pressed against him on his bike felt damn good. A lightness danced through him. After thirteen years, it was good to have her back in his life. She was the only person he could tell everything to.
He’d missed their friendship.
He’d missed her.