"That was a good sermon." Huxley grabs my hand as we walk out of the tiny church with white flaking paint bordering the edge of the woods in Pelican Bay.I nod with a smile. "It was." The pastor talked about commitments and how we all take leaps of faith. I'm almost positive he didn't direct it at me, but it felt like he did. I've been nagging myself with this decision over the last two days, but the answer is out there.I need to take a leap of faith in Huxley. No more going back on my decision. He is it for me and there's no room to waffle any longer.Friday night at the club we faced one another on the dance floor as the music lowered. The strobe lights reflected off Huxley's face, and he told me to say the words.And I did. Using confidence I haven't quite found since, I stared into his eyes and said, "Stay with me."His smile grew, and he leaned forward placing a soft kiss against my lips. "Okay."And then... Nothing.We danced the rest of the night, I broke up an ar
The bikers go about their visit like the tension isn't boiling in the room. They smile, chat with Anessa, and purchase coffee they're sure to specify goes in to-go cups. And then they leave. I'm not quite sure how the alliance started, but it's been going on for a few months now and no one seems to notice or care. I guess it's one of those weird Pelican Bay things. Small towns, man.No one except my very tense former Marine watches the entire thing go down with his eyes narrowed, waiting for one of the bikers to make a wrong move. The two men, who are too far away for me to read the names on their leather vests, don't seem to mind Huxley at all. They barely look in our direction, but Huxley only relaxes his disposition once they've left the bakery and the doors are closed securely behind them."This is where you sometimes pick up shifts in the cute little pink bakery?" he asks still on edge.I smile, trying to dissipate his mood. "Yup. Isn't it great?"The first few times you e
I love Mondays.Well... that's not entirely true. I used to hate Mondays. After working all weekend, Mondays were usually the day when I slept in and then did the laundry and cleaning I left behind from the weekend. But for some reason Mondays in Pelican Bay are different. Maybe it's this particular Monday and I'll be back to hating them next week, but for whatever reason I'm going to keep enjoying today."Have a good afternoon, Melissa." I pass the small bag of donuts over the counter and smile at what was once a high school nemesis. Seventh grade she made my life a living hell, but then her parents got divorced and she had to move to Ohio. Now she's back, and she's either completely forgotten who I am, doesn't recognize me, or she isn't quite as big of a bitch as she used to be. Whatever — I don't care. As long as she's not calling me Mini Winnie, we can both live our lives in peace.Sometimes being an adult rocks.If you look past the bill paying, the job, and having respons
"Everyone likes butter." The muffin inches closer and this time she reaches out and quickly plucks it from my hand. "And besides, if you eat a cupcake now you won't have enough calories left to eat a brownie later."Pearl loves brownies."Don't give me any of that calorie-counting shit," the older woman says waving her hand in my direction as if I'm a fly set to land on her teacup. "I haven't counted calories for at least thirty years and I'm not about to start now. When I die I want to be so fat I take up two caskets.""Pearl..." I say shaking my head. She's anything but fat and could probably eat thirty brownies without gaining a pound. Some people are blessed like that. I'm not one of them. I eat a brownie on Monday and by Tuesday I have an extra roll on my hip."All the young people in this town are dying way too early in life. It's wasteful, so eat the brownies now before they find your chocolate-deprived body somewhere." Her words on the outside don't seem to have an inne
"Coming out!" Katy yells as she pushes through the swinging metal doors with her back, carrying a large tray of the chocolate goodness. The tray gets placed on the counter and I quickly grab three or four... Okay fine, six, and place them in one of the brown paper bags we use for the customers.The best thing about working for the bakery? Anessa doesn't care if we eat as long as we don't eat everything. She put in that small stipulation after Tabitha and Katy ate an entire batch of cookies one afternoon. I don't mean an entire batch like you make in your house on the weekend. These are industrial sized batches of chocolate chip cookies. The two of them didn't eat anything with sugar for the next week. It was like a drunk who drinks too much and promises they are never going to drink alcohol again. And like a binge drinker, they eventually fell off the wagon, but no one has dared to eat so much in one shift since.Katy pops one of the warm cookies in her mouth and then has to leave
Huxley nods as he puts the car in reverse and backs out of the parking spot. He's blissfully unaware of the turmoil his words created.Huxley didn't fly to the Pelican Bay airport on his way here. He rented a car and drove from the larger airport in Portland. He's never been to the Pelican Bay airport, which means he doesn't realize the place is barely an airport. I'm not sure if it's even legally called one. One of the landing strips is just dirt and grass. It's not even paved. Only a few planes ever fly in and out of the airport — if I'm forced to call it that — most of them local small prop planes flown by residents in the city for fun. I saw a FedEx plane there once, but not a real plane. The plane I was expecting to ride in. A big one with seat belts, and oxygen masks, and a drink cart.Images of James, the pilot who flew me to the small island on my trip to Hawaii, come back to memory. He's also the reason I'm currently going to church every Sunday because I made a promise on
The city lights of Vegas stream by like one of those slow-motion pictures sold at all the tourist traps. Huxley slows the car and turns to the right when I point out the driveway to the apartment complex. One building down, at the end of a short little hallway, I shared a one-bedroom apartment with Archer.It feels weird being back. Like my past and present are colliding and there's nothing I can do to get out of the way. I have to brace for impact and hope no one walks away with a broken bone or worse — a broken heart.The sky is dark and many of the apartment lights have shut off for the evening. This end of the city away from the strip feels weird as well. There are no bright glowing lights and nobody is pumping in the sounds of coins hitting on slot machine trays. They moved to audio equipment to create the same feel of winning for people even though all the slot machines in Vegas now work on a credit system. You put in your money, but all you get out is a slip of paper that te
It's not that people in Vegas are more suspicious of cops than other people in the country. It's that the cops here... leave a bit to be desired. I'm sure it's because they live in the world full of sin and have their hands full, but most people in our apartment complex aren't going to willingly give out information or turn someone over to the police. We don't work that way. Even the law-abiding ones of us know what it takes to survive in the desert."Yeah, I saw Archer the other day." One of the neighbors leans against his doorway not letting Huxley see inside his apartment as he answers. I'm surprised he gives this much. My ears immediately perk up to hear better. Robert shared a wall with us for the last two years but we never really talked to him. Archer helped one of them move a couch once, but that's about it."He say anything to you last time he saw him?" Huxley asks."He borrowed thirty bucks from me and said he was going to... Somewhere on the East Coast."Huxley's onc
ElliotFive years later"No, sweetie, we only get one puppy today." I squat getting on the same level as my daughter, Brandise.The round ball of fluff she squeezes onto with all her might so he doesn't run away licks her across the face and she giggles. "Daddy, they're twins just me and Bray. They have to stay together."My eyes flick back and forth between each dog. One held in the tight grip of Brandise and the other being sized up by my son. Their mother, Harley, a woman who took too long for me to figure she meant everything stands between the two of them with her lips pinched together not helping me in this situation. She's left me out in the cold on my own.The two puppy siblings look alike, but in my eyes every Yorkie looks the same. How can you tell them apart? The puppies my babies held both had a lighter colored face than Rocky, but other than that they were big puffballs of fur."Sweetie, Rocky only needs one brother," I try again hoping to talk sense into her.
Elliot's steps are slow but sure as I hold open the bakery door to let him get through the space. Once he's cleared the way, I stand beside him in case he needs me for support as he makes his way to the first table in the busy sitting section. You wouldn't expect a shoulder injury to cause issues walking, but with each movement his body makes, his shoulder sways with the force and his face grimaces.It's too soon for him to be up and moving, but I couldn't make him listen to reason.He finds his seat and plops in it heavily, the chair legs scraping on the tile. The people around us stop what they're doing and turn before a small round of applause starts from behind the bakery counter and then picks up including people from every space in the bakery. Elliot turns to the noise, catching everyone in their adoration, and scowls until the clapping fades."Cupcakes for everyone," Anessa says smiling from her spot at the counter. "Especially for our new hero."Elliot's scowl deepens.
Dominick releases a breath and sucks in another one as if preparing himself for this new life. "Are you positive? Because there are very eligible bachelors in my club. A brother could keep you safe."I don't argue with him that Elliot kept me safe. Well at least until he got shot, and no one can blame a man for that. He literally stuck his body in between me and a loaded weapon. How much more could he have done?Plus I could never live life in the club again. Now after experiencing life on my own. "Yeah, and then they'd cheat on me or go to prison."Dominick shakes his head. "My men aren't that way. They love hard and deep. I changed the club here, Harley. It's different from how we grew up in Colorado."There's honesty in his words, but it will never be enough to bring me back. "Elliot is mine."Dom shakes his head once, admitting defeat. "Fine. Onto topic two. I met your father," he says father accusatorily like I've been keeping something from him.Which, in a way, I hav
Without warning there's another harsh pop in the air like someone shooting off a firecracker, and then red blossoms in the middle of Pete's forehead. His body falls back hitting the ground once again. The thud is too far away to hear, but I swear my body feels the vibration.Holy fuck.My ears ring from the gunfire as men pool around us each of them yelling things back and forth. It's coordinated chaos. An ambulance with its lights flashing speeds over the highway."That man took three bullets to the chest," Huxley mutters to himself shaking his head. "I haven't seen anything that crazy since Thailand."... The steady beat of Elliot's hospital machines lulls me into a restless sleep as my head rests on Elliot's hand."Harley," a deep voice whispers in my ear, shaking my shoulder. "Har."In a start my head pops up and my eyes search Elliot's face, but his hand still rests underneath my head, a pool of my drool sticking between his fingers."Still drool, huh? I wouldn't
"Dominick won't pay anything for me," I lie.Pete laughs. "Don't want money. I'm looking to trade you for a free get-out-of-town card. If he won't offer me his protection, you'll be a going away gift to my men. They're upset with having to leave. I'm sure you understand.""What?" Fear causes me to choke out the word as a hundred images flash through my brain of what he could mean, but only one is sick and depraved enough for this man.He smirks. "They'll love you if the Impaler doesn't."I fall to my knees against the back of his seat. "No, please don't." I'd rather he shoot me now than do what his smile promises. He means I'm to be a sexual gift given to his men and passed between them. I'd never survive. Sure, Dom trained me in basic self-defense skills, but my mother sheltered me from club life so I only heard the evils of the world through others. Until now, I never once felt concern for my safety. Not the way I do now.The cargo van travels on the highway, passing a bill
"Stand up, Fucker."Elliot scoots away from me as I claw deftly on his leg trying to hold on and keep him close. He turns, not making any sudden movements and puts his body in front of mine to shield me once again from the nasties of life."Let's not do anything drastic, Pete." Elliot takes a step forward with his hand held out defensively.I twist seeing the old man wearing a pair of board shorts, a blue Hawaiian shirt with palm trees, and flip-flops on his feet standing in the middle of the beach. He resembles a tourist who belongs in Florida not a man running a drug ring in Pelican Bay. He sneers at me taking the tension from Elliot for just a moment and waving the gun in his direction as if either of us could forget it's there."She's the only one who can name me. Without her I can pick up shop and start somewhere fresh and there's nothing you can do about it. You guys don't have shit on me.""You're standing in the middle of a public beach during the day, Pete," Elliot t
He flinches as of my question has hurt him, but I'm the child who didn't have a father. "I got out early for good behavior and I looked up your mother. I learned what happened. Sorry about your loss," he says. The words are stagnant as if he knows what he's supposed to say but struggles with the meaning. Yet, something in the inflection makes me believe he means each one. His eyes turn soft, possibly remembering his time with my mother.My life has never been cupcakes and cookies, but the last month has been indescribable except for the word surreal. First, I had no father, then I picked up a club president for a stepdad, lost him, and now gained back the original. What is happening to my life?"What will happen now?"My father shakes his head and stares at me with a touch of a smile tweaking his lips. "I'm out of the club life. Plan to take the straight and narrow from here on out."I hold back the cringe at his promise. It's one I've heard from club brothers my entire life. E
Elliot shakes his head, his fingers curving around the handle of his gun. His face pinches together as if he has so much to say, but is staying silent for me.Until he doesn't anymore."Would someone mind telling me what the fuck is going on?"He's not the only one looking for answers. "Me too. Mom said you died in a motorcycle crash. Drove your bike over a mountain ledge one night." She hadn't said he'd been drinking, but I've filled in the blanks for myself as I aged.My father's teeth come together hard making a gnashing sound I hear even from my position. "Yeah well. She thought it would be better than the true story. Easier for both of you to move on rather than wait around on me living only a half-life.""Then what is the true story?" After my mom left Dominick's dad, it was the three of us together. I always believed we never hid any secrets from one another.My father shakes his head and stares at me but looks past me as if he's reliving the memories himself. "She s
My gaze and thoughts flip to the back door, but I'm too far away to reach it before he could shoot me.The man is younger than Pete and not the person I saw put a bullet in someone earlier this month, but he's old enough to be my father. His skin is leathered and wrinkled as if he's spent a lifetime in the sun. His jeans are loose and a leather jacket lacking any MC cut is wrapped around his body. Not a Bloodhound.I stand next to the kitchen island breathing heavily while trying to come up with an escape plan as the two of us stare at one another unmoving.He speaks first. "Now, Harley, is this any way to greet the old man who named you?"His words scatter in my brain, startling me into paying attention, all my plans of escape lost. "Excuse me? My father named me."It was one of the few stories I had of the man who shared such a brief relationship with my mother. "He wanted to pay homage to the best...""Damn motorcycle company the US has ever seen," he finishes my sentenc