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.
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.
My salvation lies straight ahead.Exit number six — Pelican Bay.It took one week and 1,965 miles of driving, but I've successfully left my life in Westford, Oklahoma. I've had a full week to clear my head and leave my previous poor choices behind me. One hour south of the Canadian border rests the sleepy seaside town of Pelican Bay. The town where I'll begin my new life.A smarter life.A happier life.A quiet life.The small, discreet town on Maine's northern coast sits on rocky beaches surrounded by thick evergreen woods. It's almost cut off from the rest of the world. It's also about as far as you can get from Oklahoma while still on American soil. But those are added perks and aren't included in the reason I'm ultimately here.A short man in a brown uniform, the name John written on his name tag, delivered the final decision in the form of certified mail two weeks ago.My great aunt Gertie died.I'd known that. I didn't know she left me her two bedroom one bath n
"I'm looking for Miller Street, but I missed my turn.""There aren't many turns in Pelican Bay." The woman laughs and smiles back at me."No, but I've always used the big tree on Main.""The storm in 2013 took her. Blocked half the street when she fell. Had to divert traffic around both city blocks. A mess it was."2013? Has it been so long? I'd once vowed I'd come back to Pelican Bay every year. Of course, those promises were made before I met Mario. Before he swept me away into his lifestyle of fancy parties and what he called the high life. It's possible Mario didn't steal my innocent happiness. I merely left it here so many summers ago."I'm Pearl and this is Roland." The woman steps out extending her hand for a quick shake. "Where are you looking to get this late on a Sunday night?"I wasn't aware seven thirty was late, but there's no way I'll argue the point with either of these two. "Gertie Thompson's house.""Oh, sweetie. Gertie passed away about a month ago. Her
I release a silent scream that comes out as a gasp and then pull back from my now almost open window. My balance is off from the sudden movement, so I latch on to the rail to stop myself from tumbling over."What are you doing?" the disembodied voice asks again.There's a shadow a few feet past the stoop, the actual form of the man hidden in darkness. I am clueless to what I'm dealing with, but I imagine a cop would make themselves known, flashing a badge or pair of handcuffs by now."Um. I live here," I stammer over my words. Technically they're true. I will live here. Once I'm inside.The shadow shifts, stepping a foot closer. "You got proof of that?" he asks in a quick flat sentence like he's already decided I don't.He's right."Erm... no." Copies of the paperwork are in my mother's safe in Oklahoma. I'm set to receive an official copy from Aunt Gertie's lawyer here in the mail, but it's not shoved in a pocket somewhere. "I have a key." The useless key dangles from my p
"Yeah." Who doesn't like noodles?He slides a cell phone on the island separating the kitchen from the dining area and leans against the cupboard behind him. We're an entire room apart, but Ridge's presence fills the open space. Most of his form is hidden under his thick black winter coat, but I use my imagination. As if he read my mind, begging him to take off the thick coat, he tosses it next to his phone on the counter.A white long sleeve shirt covers his torso, the material stretched at his biceps when he crosses his arms in front of his chest. I catch myself ogling him before it becomes noticeable... I hope."What will you do for breakfast?""Breakfast?" I haven't decided on dinner yet. "I don't really need breakfast. Just coffee." My large metal canister of cheap coffee took up an entire corner of one box, valuable packing real estate, but worth it. Mario insisted we drink premium blends. Six months ago I tried to revolt and bought the economy sized version of my childho
I race around the track, drop off another package, and hit the buzzer as I pass. The ding from the victory bells turns into a hard knock, and I peek around questioning where the noise comes from. It happens again, this time bringing me out of my dream, and I open my eyes to the dark room around me.I'm wrapped up in the white quilt from the spare bedroom. It would make more sense to claim the master bedroom, but Gertie's possessions are still in there, looking like she'll return at any moment. This room feels like mine. It's the one where I spent summers curled up in the thick comforter and propped against the light blue familiar walls reading a book.The knocks come again, but this time there's a male voice yelling from somewhere out front. "You up, Tabitha?"It's another three point four seconds before I recognize it as Ridge's voice. Then I'm up and out of bed, tugging my brown hair back into a proper ponytail. I hightail it out of the bedroom to find him standing in my kitche
Mario.He's called repeatedly every day since I left. The constant interruptions to my GPS app added to my frustrations and made it difficult to forget him."There's signal here?" I yell the question back to Mack since we're the only two in the store.I turn and he's rounding the shelves behind me. "Oh sure. It depends on the carrier, but when the weather conditions are right, the fog's burned off for the morning, the moon's in the East kind of thing, you can pick up a signal on this side of the store. It's half the reason the young kids come in here to buy pop every day."Or ogle the hot guy. I don't think everyone is here for the pop or cell signal. Either way I hope it works out well for his business.My phone rings, Uncle Cracker, "You Make Me Smile" playing through the store. I really need to change the song. Mario is not that guy anymore. There's no smiling when I remember him, only scowls. He's more of a "No Scrubs" by TLC guy at this point."Important call?" he asks
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