Harlow

 

 

The thin windows in the trailer rattle excitedly with the arrival of the bikes pulling into the yard.

Just as the sun is going down, Devo and Kill are coming home.

I’m nervous. I can’t even pretend that I’m not. I’ve been pacing the trailer all evening waiting for him to get back. I’ve been praying it’ll happen soon so I can get it over with, but now that I know he’s here, I wish time would slow down. I wish I had more time to think through what I’m going to say. What I’m going to do. Where am I going to go? I can’t stay here. Josh wouldn’t like it and Devo would be bumped into the club with Skeeze and Kill. He’d hate that. He can’t share a bathroom with Skeeze. Devo is a surprisingly neat person and Skeeze is… well, Skeeze is skeezy. He’s gross. No one should live like he does.

Crunch. Crunch.

I hear Devo’s boots coming over the gravel. They tread leisurely. Steady as a heartbeat and I try to match my pulse to them. I try to slow myself down but I’m too nervous. I’m too afraid.

I’ve never felt free to leave anyone before. Not my dad. Not Josh. Not Devo. There’s a terror that comes with separating from someone so deeply ingrained in your life. Like you’re considering giving up a kidney. It won’t kill you, but will you miss it? Will you regret losing it? Will you be the same without it?

I don’t have the answers to any of those questions.

And I don’t have time left to consider them.

Devo comes through the door the way he always does; quietly. For such a big guy, he’s impressively stealthy. I’m a light sleeper, a cricket queef enough to bring me around, and Devo has always been careful because of it. It’s considerate of him. One of the many, many ways he’s been good to me over the years.

It makes what I’m about to do so much harder.

“Hey, babe,” he grunts, hoisting his big duffel off his shoulder and onto the ground.

“Hey.”

“Do we have any brew? My back is killing me from that drive.”

“I think so. Yeah.” I got to the fridge to look. “If not, I’ll run over to the bar and get you one.”

“Nah, that’s alright.”

“We have one left.” I hand it over, the cold of the bottle biting into my fingers. They tremble slightly when he takes over the weight of it.

His eyebrows come together quizzically. “You okay?”

“I need to talk to you,” I blurt out.

He pauses, his hand frozen on the twist top of the beer. He studies me closely, from head to toe, before pulling it off sharply. “Good news or bad news?”

“Bad, I think.”

“You think?”

“I’m moving out.”

He hesitates again. His wheels are turning, taking their time assessing the situation. What he feels about it is a mystery. He has one of the best poker faces I’ve ever seen. Even Raw, who kills at the game, can’t read him.

“Where to?” he asks evenly.

I shrug, the movement jerkier than I mean it to be. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Tonight? You better figure it out fast, then.”

“I also don’t… I’m leaving because I’m…I’m leaving you,” I finally manage. “I’m leaving us.”

“You leaving the club too?”

“I don’t know. I work here so I hope not, but if you want me to I—”

“No, Harley,” he tells me quietly, sitting down at the small dinette. “I don’t want you to leave the club.”

I frown, unsure. “But you’re okay with me leaving you?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“You seem okay.”

“So do you. Do you want me to ask why you’re okay?”

My stomach turns sadistically. “You can. If you want to.”

“I don’t need to,” he tells me, taking a sip of his beer. He grimaces as it goes down. “I already know.”

“What do you know?”

“That you’re in love with Stratford.”

Oh, fuck.

I lick my lips. They’re bone dry and cracked. They taste faintly of copper.

Devo nods into my silence. “Thanks for that.”

“For what?” I whisper.

“For not denying it. You’ve never been a liar. I like that about you.”

“Devo, I—”

“Never meant to hurt me?” he asks before brushing the thought away with a wave of his hand. “You aren’t. You couldn’t. We’re not like that, babe. We both know that. This isn’t a break up. It’s a change of address. That’s it.”

“What about Josh?”

“What about him?”

“What are you gonna do?”

“You mean will I go after him?”

“Yeah.”

“No,” he answers easily. “I don’t give a flying fuck about Josh Stratford. You wanna be with him, then be with him. I’m just glad you’re telling me now and not bringing him into bed with me.”

I look down, my throat tightening painfully.

Devo reads my reaction so easily.

He slams his beer down on the table. “Goddamn it. You fucked him and then crawled in bed with me?”

“No,” I reply adamantly. But then I remember that’s a lie. “Not recently.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I slept with him the night before you brought me here. And then I left before he woke up. That’s why we didn’t talk for three years.”

Devo runs his hand over his mouth, his eyes darkening angrily. “It was just that one time? Before you moved in?”

“How many times have you gotten in bed with me after fucking other women?” I fire back, my temper flaring. “And I never asked you about it. Never.”

“This is different.”

“How?”

He stabs his finger through the air, pointing at the club. “I have to see him every damn day. He’s getting offered a cut tonight. Do you think he’s going to say no to that?”

My mind explodes in turmoil, unsure what to do with that information. Am I happy? Proud? Scared? All of the above?

“Yes,” I answer Devo. “He’ll say yes. Of course he’ll say yes.”

“He’ll be a Prospect and I’ll have to look at him and know he fucked you behind my back. I can’t trust him. That shit’s fucked up, Harley.”

I want to say I’m sorry. I want to apologize for making his life difficult after everything he’s done for me, but I can’t. I won’t. The first step toward owning my life and my happiness is to stop apologizing for it.

“I get it,” I tell him carefully. “I know it’s a mess and I know I made it, but this is what I want. He is what I want.”

Devo stands abruptly, but I don’t flinch. He’d never hit me. It’s not the way he is. Hitting Josh, on the other hand…

He tosses his beer bottle in the sink. It clatters inside, threatening to break before the contents go bubbling down the drain.

“I don’t have time for this,” he tells me coolly. “I have to go inside and congratulate your boyfriend on becoming our newest Prospect.”

“I’m already packed. I’ll be gone when you get back.”

“You better be in the bar when everyone comes out to celebrate.”

I blink hard, surprised. “You want me to stick around for the party afterward?”

“He’s your best friend,” he replies sarcastically. “It’ll look weird if you aren’t there and I don’t want to answer questions about any of this tonight. Go wherever you need to go afterward, but be at that fucking party. You owe me that much.”

I don’t know if that’s true, but I nod in agreement. “I’ll be there.”

Devo leaves the trailer without another word. He bangs the door shut loudly behind him, the sound punctuating the end of the conversation.

The end of us.