Page 5 of The Biker and the Gamer
Stumbling sleepily through the sunlit apartment, stripping my clothes off as I go along, I head straight to the shower, making it cold and brain-jolting. That’s the only way to convince myself that I’m still alive these days, to galvanize myself to live another routine 24 hours all over again.
Half an hour later, I’m showered, dressed and heavily made-up for work. I’m in the living area throwing crap into my backpack when I spot her coming toward the pool-house, balancing a covered dish and a glass of orange juice.
This happens at least three mornings per week. She brings me breakfast even though I’ve told her it’s not necessary. We’re not friends, but I've warmed up to her somewhat since moving in. She’s a little weird and gazy, a loner of sorts. But, for the most part, she’s the most giving and nurturing person I’ve ever met. Of course, she’s also private and secretive, so it’s difficult to tell what her intentions are, what she truly wants from me—because let’s face it, nobody’sthisnice.
A cool breeze hits me as I flip the lock on the French doors, smiling to myself as she approaches. She’s got the sexiest walk. An evenly paced roll-and-sway saunter, almost as if in slow motion. Her small waist and Latina curves don’t help either. Endowed in all the right places. Long, waist-length dark hair. Leyana’s just…sexy. Even I, a straight-as-an-arrow woman, can admit that.
“Morning, Kenny!” she chirps as she enters my apartment. “Crepes, spinach rolls, and fruits today.”
“Mornin’, Ley,” I return, shrugging on my leather jacket. “Thanks. 'Preciate it.”
“Oh…” She sets the contents down on the small eating table and withdraws a little baggy from her back pocket. “I got some of Kathy’s Grade A stash for you.”
“Sweet,” I say, snatching the bag from her hand. Kathy is her stepmom. Leggy, blonde, privileged, and perpetually high. Don’t know who’s her weed connect, but I love it when Leyana steals her stash for me because it’s no exaggeration when she says it’s Grade fucking A.
Stuffing the stash in my pocket, I plop down at the table, uncover the dish and begin eating. “So, what’re you up to today?”
We’re the same age, pushing twenty-four. But while I have to work my ass off to survive, Leyana just…lives. I have no idea what she does or really if she does anything at all.
“Well, it's great that you asked,” she says slowly, “because I want to ask you a favor.”
“What's that?” I ask around a mouthful of crepes.
“So, Kathy doesn't want me to get a job. She doesn't think it’s ‘necessary right now,’ or whatever. Plus I have to be here to take care of her and make sure she doesn’t OD anyway.” She mutters the last part more to herself than to me. “But, her sister is flying in from Europe in a couple of days and she’ll be staying for a few months. When her sister is here to distract her, she usually doesn’t pay much attention to what I do. So, I’m thinking about getting a part-time job!”
WhatI’mthinking is that there’s a whole lot that’s wrong with all she just said, but it’s none of my business. “Good idea. But what do you want me to do about it?”
“Um, maybe you could ask Toni or Cookie if they’d be willing to hire me?”
I give her a dubious glance. “Not sure Toni’s gonna want you around her man, Ley.”
Toni is Grunt’s woman and the mother of his child. During a brief period when Toni and Grunt were “sorta” broken up, he claimed Leyana as his Steady. (A “Steady” is the Den of Heathens MC’s term for “exclusive girlfriend.”) After Toni and Grunt’s predictable reconciliation, Grunt, of course, had to drop Leyana.
Now Toni owns a wine-cream shop in town, “Tipsy Scoop”, and has joint ownership of the pastry, “Cookie’s Treats”, with her close friend Cookie, who’s also the sister of the president of the Den of Heathens MC, Judge.
So, yeah, there’s a problem with what she’s asking.
“Oh, Come on!” She throws her hands up. “That's been like what, three years? I'm totally over that. And believe it or not, our relationship was not at all what you think. He was a good friend, that’s it. He only claimed me so no one would bother me.”
Yeah, right.“Didn't seem that way.”
“Well, it’s the truth. Anyway, I'm just tired of sitting around all day doing nothing. I need something to do, anything. So even if you can pull some strings and get me a job at The Metal House, I’ll take it. Whatever. I just need your help.”
With a shrug and a sigh, I tell her, “Fine. Lemme see what I can do.”
“Thank you! Thank you!” she squeals.
Sure.
I finish up breakfast, then get out the little baggy of Grade A weed and prep two small joints to last me throughout the day.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m zipping through traffic on my Ducati, riding the wind to work.
~
It's chaos as usual when I arrive at The Metal House. And, as usual, everyone’s “happy Kenny is finally here.” It’s as if not a single one of the staff is able to function without me here to direct them and sign off on everything.
Kenny, can you check this? Kenny, is this right? Kenny, can you ‘okay’ something for me real quick? Kenny, Lisa messed up again. Kenny, what did the client request again?
