CHAPTER SIX
Starlet
I reach Shreveport by one o’clock in the afternoon via Greyhound. Though it’s not my first choice in transportation, I didn’t have an option. I made an anonymous call to a tow truck company to pick up the rental car before I bought a ticket for the bus. I step off the bus and look around. Light rain is falling and the sky is cloudy. The station is located on Fannin Street, in the heart of downtown, only a couple blocks away from the Red River.
I’m starving and spot a restaurant sign hanging on the front of the brick building. I wouldn’t mind grabbing a sandwich and soda before I call Juanita. She’s my only contact in the outside world, an ex-old lady like me. There’s an underground network that aids women who escape the life.
She used to live in Alabama, too, but after her old man got another woman pregnant, she fled the Devil’s Crusaders and never looked back. We secretly kept in touch all these years. Once she found out Sammy died, Juanita convinced me to leave. My future prospects were bleak. I couldn’t handle another ten years of being a punching bag for another brother. And what if I got pregnant this time? What if I talked back or did something wrong?
Nine years of marriage with Sammy taught me many things … I never want to be a slave again. I don’t want to be told what to wear, how to act, what to say, or who I can be friends with. I want to make mistakes. I want to live my own life. I want to enjoy myself, free to experience anything I want—like Brick. I shiver at the thought. Dangerous or not, the man could make me change my mind about being an old lady again. All the more reason to stay away from him.
I step inside the station and see the food court to the right. I rush to one of the counters and order a grilled cheese sandwich and a Sprite. My stomach growls as I take out a ten-dollar bill and hand it to the girl at the register.
“Your order will be ready in about ten minutes,” she says.
I find a quiet spot off to the side. My cell rings and I check caller ID. The number is blocked. I know who it is. One of the bothers is calling. I shouldn’t answer; I don’t owe them anything. But out of habit, I accept the call.
“Starlet?”
Checkers. I roll my eyes, he’s the meanest enforcer we have. “What?” I ask.
“Where the fuck are you?”
“Not there.”
“No shit,” he says. “You need to get back here. Now. We elected a new president. He’s already claimed you.”
I swallow the bile down, shocked at how quickly they’ve replaced Sammy. Usually it takes a week or two to fill a vacated seat. However, my husband was a dividing force. So maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. The chapter needs better leadership. “I’m not coming back, Checkers. I’m done with it. Done with you. Done with the club.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Did I stutter?” I don’t know where this inner-strength is coming from, but I like it.
“Jesus Christ,” he says. “Did you drink too much last night or something? I know you miss, Sammy. All of us do. Silver is willing to give you some time to mourn. It’s understandable. The wedding will be in August.”
Honestly, I can’t hold the bitter laughter in. It’s June, and he expects me to marry Silver in a few weeks? “Mourn? Who? Sammy? That sadistic sonofabitch deserved to die. I’m happy he’s gone.”
There’s a long moment of silence.
“If that’s how you feel, I can arrange for the wedding to be moved up to next week.”
“Checkers, listen to me. Fuck you. Fuck the Devil’s Crusaders. Fuck the life.” I’m just about to disconnect.
“Get your little cunt back to the compound, Starlet.” He gives me a humorless laugh, as threatening as anything I’ve ever heard. “You don’t have a choice. That property of the Devil’s Crusaders tattoo on your shoulder should be enough to remind you of where you belong. As the only living relative of our founder, you have a responsibility to carry on your father’s bloodline. Silver isn’t an older man like Sammy was. The brothers kept that in mind while we considered who to vote in as president. If I have to tie you down myself, you’re gonna marry him and have babies. Lots of ’em.”
I close my eyes and imagine Silver dressed in a tux. He’s tall and blond with blue eyes, twenty-seven years old and violent. Yeah, he’s good looking, but I’d rather shoot myself in the head than marry him. “Screw you, Checkers.” I hang up just as the woman at the counter motions for me to pick up my food.
After scarfing down my sandwich, I head outside and call Juanita.
“Where are you?” she sounds so worried.
“Standing on the corner of Fannin and Edwards.”
“Stay put,” she says, “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
A black Jeep Liberty pulls up to the curb. Juanita rolls down the window and smiles at me. “Get in. I don’t want you out in the open right now.”
I do as she asks, climb into the passenger seat, then twist around and give her the biggest hug ever. “I can’t believe I’m here.” Tears burn my eyes.
She returns the embrace with equal emotions, then pulls back a few inches and looks at me. “The last time I saw you, you were nineteen. Look at you now, all grown up.” She fingers a strand of my long hair. “Wow.”
In turn, I admire the thirty-three-year-old woman I always liked. She taught me how to cook, clean, and how to take a beating without crying out loud. Both of our exes were abusers. If you let them know they were hurting you while they were disciplining you, they’d hit you that much harder. We both nod our understanding of each other’s pasts. It takes another old lady to understand the challenges we faced, the real dangers, the threat we’d always have to live with if the club decided to try and get us back.
Juanita thumbs a tear off my cheek. “Don’t waste your precious tears on them. Okay?”
I nod. “Checkers called.”
“And?” She pulls into traffic.
“They’ve elected a new president already. Silver.”
“Silver?”
“William Hedeby, the prospect from Sacramento. Remember him?”
“Oh. My. God. That little prick that showed up when he was seventeen and half-starved?”
“Yep.”
“Let me guess…”
“He claimed me already.”
“Sammy’s body isn’t even cold in the ground yet.”
“I know.” The level of disgust inside me is growing exponentially. “Always thinking with their dicks.”
We take another right and Juanita turns into an ally and parks behind a white house that’s been converted into commercial retail space. “Welcome home,” she says.
The word home is foreign to me, because I’ve never really had one. “Thank you.” I climb out of the SUV with my backpack in my hands.
There’s a small, fenced yard with a covered porch. We walk up a cobblestone path, between two raised gardens with colorful flowers, and then she opens the screen door. “The back of the house is a three-bedroom apartment. The front is my shop.”
“So cute,” I say, stepping inside.
The kitchen is painted yellow with white trim. A large window overlooks the back yard. Framed pinup girl artwork from the World War II era is hanging on the walls, especially in the breakfast nook which is tastefully decorated with a stainless-steel dinette from the 1950s.
“You always were eclectic,” I say.
“You remembered? I like Rosie the Riveter in the kitchen and something else completely in my bedroom.”
“Do I want to know?”
“His name is Joseph Matteo—thirty-eight, hot, and very bisexual.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“For me, yes.”
I smile, genuinely thrilled Juanita has found someone that makes her happy. “Maybe I’ll find someone to share my life with someday.”
She squeezes my hand. “Didn’t mean to rub my relationship in your face at a time like this. I just wanted you to know sometimes there’s a man or two running around the house late at night. You’ll love Joe.”
“This is your house, Juanita.”
“Yours now, too.” She guides me down a short hallway off the kitchen. There’s a medium-sized bedroom with a private bathroom. “Here’s your room. Hope you like it.”
Decorated more traditionally, the Cherrywood furniture, including an antique desk and matching chair, is lovely. The walls are painted a muted blue and the bathroom has a garden tub I can soak in. Obviously, my friend doesn’t realize a closet would be an improvement from where I was living before. To actually have a chance to live outside the invasiveness of camera surveillance and a body guard who follows me everywhere, the only exception in the bathroom, will take some getting used to.
I drop my backpack on the bed. “I don’t have much to put away. It took an act of God to get out of the compound unnoticed. I only had time to grab a few outfits and a couple pairs of shoes.”
“Do you have any savings?”
“Fortunately, I’ve been stashing money in a secret account for two years. I managed to put away ten thousand dollars.”
Her mouth drops open. “How?”
“Skimming off the money Sammy gave me to pay household expenses. And… I sold half of my jewelry, too. No matter how much of an asshole Sammy was, he liked me to look good.”
“Never mind the bruises.”
“Yeah.”
She opens the closet and shows me a few dresses she bought for me. “We’ll go to the mall soon. And you can shop online.”
I had limited access to the internet at the compound, the brothers were always monitoring my activities. “I’ve never shopped online before.”
“What? Do you have a credit card, Starlet?”
I shake my head.
“Do you have any credit?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“Tell me you have a Social Security number.”
“I do.”
“Don’t worry, sweetie. Soon enough, all of this will seem like a fading nightmare. Do you want to visit the shop?”
“I’d love to.”
I follow her to the living room and through a set of French doors. Excitement slowly uncoils inside me. I’ve never had a real job. I’ve never earned my own money; just what Sammy gave me as an allowance if I was a good girl. Although he could be generous at times, he ruled our household and the club with an iron fist.
Once I’m standing inside the store, I slowly turn around, taking in the shelves of pottery, incense, and jewelry. There’s even a book section with poetry and romance novels. “You didn’t exaggerate at all,” I tease. “I can’t imagine a man ever wanting to walk through those doors.”
Juanita chuckles. “I planned it that way. And that’s why you’ll be safe here. The last place one of those Devil’s Crusaders will look for you is in a boutique that caters to women. Your room is over there.” She points across the aisle. “I got everything you asked for, Starlet. And let me tell you something wonderful, your schedule is already filled up next week. I even changed your name to Sarah. I think it’s better we don’t get too personal with the customers.”
“I agree. I just can’t believe my schedule is full already!”
“Absolutely. Five appointments a day, starting at nine. Women like having their fortunes told. Here.” She hands me a key. “Go check it out.”
Very slowly, I walk across the room and stand in front of the ornately carved door. This is where my new life begins. I stick the key in the lock and turn it, both afraid and delighted to see where I’m going to spend a lot of my time.