MICHELLE
Maddie is snuggled up against me, falling in and out of sleep when we hear the noise. Thumping footsteps on the stairs coming closer to the room make both of us jump from our place on the bed. We watch in horror as the doorknob attempted to turn before the person realizes it’s locked.
“Maddie! It’s Grandma Bernice! Can you open the door?” I look over at Maddie, who has a relieved smile on her face.
“Grandma Bernice is my mom’s mom. She never comes here. Not since mom died. Dad must’ve told her the story to get her over here.”
She walks quickly towards the door and places a hand on the knob. I have just enough time to ask her, “Are you sure, Maddie? Your dad said not to answer it for anyone but him. He didn’t mention your grandma.”
“No, it’s cool. I recognize her voice.” She is plenty self-assured – I’ll grant her that – but I've had enough danger for the night.
I leap out of bed and walk towards the corner, eying the open window as an escape route. I’m certainly not going to die because someone has decided to play a sick head game with a little girl and her teacher.
Maddie opens the door slowly and peers out. Confirming the person’s identity, she opens it wider and runs to an older woman dressed in black, holding tight to a cane. “Grandma! What are you doing here?”
“Your dad called me. He’s out on a ride with the rest of the club and asked if I would take you home with me for a few days. How could I say no to that?” She’s sweet, the total package of a grandma. It’s hard to picture this woman raising a girl who later got killed because she rode with a dangerous, drug dealing motorcycle club. Grandma Bernice looks more like she’s ready to bake some cookies – not sit on the back of a Harley.
“Here, Grandma, I want you to meet someone,” Maddie says hurriedly, motioning in my direction. “This is my teacher, Miss Springer. She was staying with me while they had their meeting. She was here when they shot off at the house!” Maddie says it so proudly, as if it is a badge of honor to wear. I more wanted to run off into the darkness screaming in fear rather than be here – but, I have to admit, it’s kind of sweet to be introduced like this.
I walk over slowly, outstretching my arm towards her. Grandma Bernice looks me up and down, staring at my outfit. It’s obviously not what she had in mind for a teacher to wear – especially one doing house calls. It’s obvious she knows why I’m here and how I ended up becoming Maddie’s caretaker. It’s equally obvious that she doesn’t like it.
“Maddie,” her grandma says, “why don’t you run downstairs, grab a few snacks from the kitchen, and then wait for me there. I want to thank your teacher before we go.”
Maddie obeys, running quickly down the stairs. We’re left alone, just the two of us. Something tells me this isn’t going to end well.
“So,” she began cautiously, “you’re Maddie’s teacher? What were you doing here tonight so late?”
How did I end up on the interrogation seat? She’s already shooting daggers at me, like she knows exactly what kind of person I am. I quickly slip into defense mode. “Maddie got into some trouble at school earlier this week,” I explain. “Her father and I were discussing her school performance and making plans on what we should do. That’s when we got shot at. I’m only here because he won’t let me go home.”
“I see,” she says, a frown of disbelief on her face. “Well, let me give you a warning about Cal, Miss Springer. My daughter was his old lady for over five years before they had Maddie. And in that time, she transformed into something dark hearted, evil. It’s no secret I blame him for who she became when she died. And even more so, I blame him for her death. His club and their war was the reason why she died in the crosshairs.”
I don’t see why this matters. I already knew about Maddie’s mom dying, and her personality change seemed totally unimportant. What does it have to do with me?
“Listen, young lady,” she continues, connecting the dots for me, “You run with a motorcycle club man, you risk it all. You saw those girls down there. I heard one got shot. They get brainwashed and sucked in. And then they are the ones who pay for their man’s mistake. And Cal’s girls get the worst of it. You look like a nice girl, Miss Springer. I suggest tomorrow morning, or whenever Cal lets you go home, you stay there. Don’t get involved with him. Don’t get involved with Maddie. Do your job, and forget about both of them.” With that, she slowly turns and heads back down the stairs.
I stand still, motionless. Inside me, a million cogs turn rapidly as I tried to make sense of it all. This woman knows the dangers; she saw it firsthand with her daughter. And she saw it through to death. She knows exactly what she was talking about.
I stumble back towards Maddie’s bed, unsure of what to do. The house is silent now. Not a soul in the house remains. I pull the curtain back from the window to see a few motorcyclists still lingering. They nod to Grandma Bernice as she, as quickly as she could, walks Maddie to her car. They let her escape, but me, I knew would be a nonstarter.
I lay back down, curling up to Maddie’s pillows. It is late. It has to be at least midnight. Normally, I would be in bed with a cup of tea and a stack of papers. Now I am trapped in the worst safehouse in the world waiting for death or salvation. And now I have to think of the long term on top of all that. My mind drifted silently to the world I wanted to go back to as I hold back the tears I long to cry…
“Michelle? Michelle?” I'd fallen asleep and woken up to a commotion. I can hear the voices of men shouting loudly. They were celebrating. Cal tousles me some more, forcing me to roll over to face him, “Come on, get up.”
My eyes struggle to focus, but the dim sunlight from the window forces them alert. I make out his face, the stubble on his chin, the way his eyes lit up wildly. His black shirt is dirty, covered in what looked like mud. It’s caked onto his jeans and boots. His brown hair has pieces of whatever it was matted into the strands.
He looks back at me frustrated. I haven’t moved quickly enough for him. His arms scoop under me and lift me by my knees and shoulders. He carries me down the hallway towards his bedroom, shutting Maddie’s door with his foot. Once in his room, he places me down gently on the bed and begins to remove his clothing.
I scoot back towards the headboard, unsure of what to do. When he takes off his top, I immediately spot the red, bloody marks up his chest, bruising his skin. They mingled with his black tattoos, making it look like some horrible modern art piece on his body. I sit up and lean in towards him, placing a hand on one of the bruises, “What happened to you?”
He withers away from my touch, clearly in pain. These are fresh marks, totally new. Taking a few steps away from me, “Nothing. Just riding stuff.”
“Cal, what happened? That’s not normal riding stuff.” The bruises were in circles concentrated on his chest and stomach. Some looked deeper than the others, but the worst were right on his ribcage. He would've had to crash his bike several times to get marks like those.
He looks back down at me, totally devoid of humor as he commands me, “Don’t ask questions.”
I cross my arms, completely and totally pissed off. I've had my fill of this secret cult gang. “Why the hell not? You lock me up in your daughter’s room for hours only to get a warning that I was gonna die if I stayed with you, and then you come back here covered in bruises and I’m not supposed to ask what happened? How in the world does that make sense? If I'm forced to stay here, I at least want to know what the fuck is going on!”
Cal bursts into a smile as he heads down next to my spot on the bed. He places his two arms on either side of me as he looks into my eyes, “I’ve never heard you cuss before, Miss Springer. I've got to admit that it’s kind of hot.”
I push him off me as he leans in to nuzzle my neck. “Don’t play games with me, Cal! I want to go home or at least get some answers. Are you gonna tell the truth or not?”
He stands up, irritated that I rebuked him. “No. I’m not. The less you know, the safer you are.”
“More like the less I know the more you control me, right? After all, that’s what happened to Maddie’s mom.” He takes a step towards me, his hands turning into fists. “That’s what her mom told me. She said if I stayed here with you, you would turn me into her, or at least what became of her.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” His breathing is hitched, as if it is trapped in his throat.
“No! I don’t!” I shout back to him, “Because you won’t be honest with me, and tell me why the fuck I'm here and what happened tonight!”
“You wanna know what happened, Michelle? You really want to know?” I nod my head at him slowly. I could tell I was about to get some reality check that I maybe didn’t want to hear. “We dug up a dead body – one of our brother’s who was shot and killed by the Coyotes. Then we raided their clubhouse and did the same thing they did to us. But this time we made sure the job was done.”
My mind stopped thinking about the bullets spraying through the drywall and windows. Glass everywhere, my mind screaming. “No…”
“Yeah, Michelle. Because that’s how these things work. An eye for an eye. Blood for blood. We do what we gotta do.” He sounds just as upset as I am. Unlike the guys downstairs clinking bottles and hollering wildly, Cal seems just as affected by this as me. He’s different, at least, he's acting different. Still, he ads, “Those fuckers deserve whatever they get. They killed my girl, Michelle. They killed her, and I’ve wanted to get them back ever since. Now I have my revenge.”