Page 11 of Jigsaw
I grabbed a bottle of water from the tiny fridge and decided to snack on some popcorn before going to bed. The full-size bed was the only place to sit in the little space, and as I munched on my snack, I decided to scroll social media, not that my presence was very big.
In high school, most girls didn’t want to give me a chance because of who and what my father was, and the boys were either too scared to ask me out or they thought they could bed me since my father was a biker and I was ‘easy’, accouraging to the bitchy girls and asshole guys who I either turned down or ignored.
I never fit in—not at home with my father, and not at school. My mother was the only one who seemed to understand me, but she died when I was sixteen. That’s when I moved into my father’s house and under his authoritarian rule. It didn’t help that my brother was following in his footsteps and was quick to tell if I broke a rule.
Sometimes, I thought it was my brother who had hired that person who followed me and captured the pictures of me and Dean, but I couldn’t prove it, so I never made the accusation. Reliving the past wasn’t going to do me any good, and after my brazen move tonight, I was pretty sure thinking about the future wasn’t a good idea either.
Countless nights since Dean left me in that motel room, I’d thought about all the secret and personal shames we had shared with each other, and how nothing I said turned him away. He accepted me, and I accepted him. It was rare, had an end date, and was now in the past.
So, why was I so insane to follow him into the unknown?
There were no answers to be had tonight, so I slipped under the thick blanket and turned off the speaker before slipping my earphones on. When the volume was just right that I couldn’thear the Phantom Renegades raising hell outside, I allowed sleep to pull me under, hoping for good dreams.
THE FIRST THING I THOUGHTwhen I woke up before sunrise was that hope is for suckers. All night long, I dreamed of Dean, and each time, he would turn his angry eyes to me and tell me I wasn’t worth his trouble. That I should leave since no one wanted a wasted, used-up whore. He had never given any indication those were his feelings, but the fear of rejection and the worry of being alone kicked my brain into the wrong gear, resulting in no sleep.
Slipping out of bed, I got dressed and pulled on a red ‘Property of Willow’ shirt for the day. I didn’t want any misconceptions about my status when I was surrounded by horny men. After using the extremely small bathroom, I pushed my feet into a pair of tennis shoes and unlocked the camper. When I opened the door, I looked out and shook my head at the scene in front of me.
There were beer bottles everywhere, cigarette butts littered the ground, and there were a few passed-out brothers propped up or lying on whatever surface they’d passed out on last night. Closing the door to my camper as quietly as I could, I made sure it was locked before I stepped over a snoring body. Ghost wasn’t to be seen this early in the morning, and I was glad he wasn’t an early riser. I didn’t want to get into it with him today, so I decided to play peacekeeper.
There was a prospect sitting in a camping chair near our lines of bikes, and when I approached him, he jumped up and turned to face me. I wasn’t a member of the Phantom Renegades, but I was the daughter of the former president and the sister of the current, so respect was given to me.
“I need the keys to the pickup. I want to go get coffee and donuts to surprise Ghost,” I explained. He glanced over the area where we were camping as the sun began to turn the sky from gray to peach. “Everyone’s asleep, and if you hurry, I’ll be back before he knows I’m gone.”
He didn’t seem sure, but he eventually reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out the key to my brother’s SUV. He’d had it towed over with the campers so he would be able to ‘handle business’ if necessary. I had no idea what that meant, but I knew I couldn’t balance one coffee let alone ten on my bike.
I took the keys, raised my phone to the prospect, and said, “I’ve got my tracker on, and I’ll be right back.”
I knew that information was for Ghost and not the prospect, but I hoped to be back before Ghost knew I had taken his precious car. He loved his bike, but he doted on his SUV. He was weird, and I didn’t understand him, but he was raised in the club while my mother made sure I was raised as far from the Phantom Renegades as possible.
Cranking the engine, I gave it a moment to warm up while I punched in the address to 7 Brew in Rapid City. It would take me about fifteen minutes to get there, and they’re always fast, so at most, I’d be gone forty-five minutes. Pulling away from the campgrounds, I let the turn-by-turn guide me into the city. Traffic was slow this early in the morning, and as I drove down the interstate, I saw bikes parked everywhere.
It was a beautiful sight to see, but I knew this would be my last Rally. I loved riding, but this wasn’t the life for me—or so I kept chanting in my head every time Dean popped into my brain. The line for coffee was only one car deep, so I was able to order, pull forward after paying, and be back on the road within five minutes. There were no lattes for this bunch, just lots of black coffee and a bag filled with cream and sugar. Next stop wasdonuts, and after getting eight dozen assorted, I was on my way back to the campgrounds.
Whatever the day was going to bring, I had to face it head-on. The chance of seeing Dean or Sinners Revenge again was slim to none. The Rally was enormous, and not every club traveled into Sturgis every day, so if there was any kind of good luck still on my side, I wouldn’t bump into him in the next four days before I left to go back home.
Chicago was calling my name, and I was ready to be back in my apartment with Felix, my rescue cat. That was the life I’d created for myself, and no matter what fantasies may have popped into my head, that was my reality.
Pulling back into the campground and parking the SUV in its spot, I checked myself in the mirror before turning off the motor. The prospect jumped from his seat at the end of our line of bikes and ran to the truck.
I opened the door and gave him an exasperated look. His eyes cut over the hood of the vehicle before he rushed out, “Ghost is pissed you took his truck.”
Rolling my eyes, I got out and walked around to the back to open the tailgate. “Then help me get his coffee and donuts over there so he’ll calm down.”
He picked up the stack of donut boxes and lowered them so I could place two of the six boxes of coffee on top. I followed behind him carrying the other four boxes and the bag of condiments stuck between my teeth, hoping my peace offering would smooth my brother’s ruffled feathers.
Ghost was sitting in a camping chair, looking hungover with bloodshot eyes and more wrinkles on his face than I remembered. When he saw me following the prospect, he jumped up from his chair and began to yell.
“What the fuck do you think you were doing taking my truck?”
The prospect placed the boxes onto a picnic table someone had moved over to our area and took the coffees off the top. I walked up to him, and he removed the bag from my teeth as I placed the other four boxes of coffee onto the table. Ghost was approaching, so I grabbed a cup before turning to offer it to him.
“I wanted to make sure everyone had coffee and something to eat. I didn’t think you’d be mad since it was for the Phantom Renegades,” I answered and handed the keys back to the prospect. Lifting my eyes to Ghost, I added, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
He took the coffee from me and grumbled as I stepped to the side, then he began to open the boxes of donuts. After taking one and shoving half into his mouth, he looked at me and spoke with little pieces of pastry flying out. “I guess it’s okay this time but ask next time. I woke up and you and my truck were gone.”
I offered him a partial smile and grabbed a few more donuts for him as he turned and walked back to his chair. Placing the donuts onto a napkin, I sat them on the table next to his chair as I took a seat next to him. When he was sober and I was around, he seemed to expect me to be close to him out of some kind of misplaced loyalty. But when he was drunk, he wanted me as far away as possible, so whenever he was quasi nice to me, I made sure to soak it up.
My mom had been gone for over a decade, and our father for less than four years. My brother was the only family I had left, and most days, I felt like a burden to him. That’s why I moved away from his club and started a life for myself in Chicago. It wasn’t glamorous or even lucrative, but it was all mine.
