Page 24 of Lost Soul

Grabbing her bag, she roots around inside it, eventually pulling out a pocket mirror and a lipstick. “Look I really have to go.” She quickly draws the lipstick across her lips then snaps the mirror shut. “You girls help yourself, and be good,” she warns, popping her lips together before slinging the bag over her shoulder and bursting out of the door like a mini tornado.

I look from the door and then back to Maddy, who is awkwardly chewing her thumbnail.

“Your mom’s really cool," I tell her, unable to disguise the shock in my voice. Maddy turns down the sound system before responding with a half-smile and a shrug.

“Yeah, she’s fun I guess.”

“Where does she work?” I ask Maddy as she leads us up the stairs to her room.

“She’s in sales.” Her voice is almost snappy, and the uncharacteristic sharpness tells me that she’s keeping something from me. Something that I know I’ll get out of her eventually, just like I would everything else.

We spend the rest of the afternoon gossiping and listening to more of Maddy’s shitty music. When I finally manage to get us onto the subject of boys, the atmosphere shifts to borderline uncomfortable, but I push past it.

“So what’s the furthest you’ve ever got?” I flop front first on to her bed and grab one of her fluffy pink cushions.

She’s sat across from me with her legs crossed looking embarrassed.

“I haven’t,” she answers, looking down to where her fingers twiddle the laces of her converse.

“What not even a kiss?” I ask, surprised. Sure, Maddy isn’t exactly popular, but as much as it kills me to say, she is gorgeous. Even I know that it’s criminal for her to have never been kissed. I decide not to share that the furthest I’ve ever got myself is watching Jessie get his cock noshed by one of the club sluts. Maddy will assume, like everyone else, that I am beyond experienced in that department and I, of course, will let her.

“Not even a kiss,” she confirms. “I always figured it would happen when the right guy came along, and that hasn’t happened yet. I want it to be special… No offense,” she quickly adds. Assuming.

“None taken,” I shrug it off. “Is that why you didn’t kiss the guy at the party?”

“I didn’t kiss the guy at the party because he was a jerk…” she tells me flatly, and we both giggle.

“I guess I don’t see the point in kissing someone just for the sake of it. I want it to be with the right guy. Everyone remembers their first kiss, right?” She moves off the bed changing the subject before I can press for more.

“So, what should I wear to Katie’s party Saturday? Figured now that I’m hanging out with you I’m sure to get an invite.” Her eyes roll, and I laugh again, but only half-heartedly. Her words from before are still stinging. The only guy I’ve ever imagined kissing is Jessie. He’s the only guy I’ve ever wanted to. It’s looking more and more unlikely that I ever will. I try to shake off the constricting feeling crushing at my chest, brought on by the thought of only ever watching. It might never be me.

I smile at Maddy, containing the tears that threaten my eyes as I watch the girl in front of me. Wiggling her ass to crappy music, comfortable, carefree, and completely unaware that she holds the potential to have everything I ever wanted. Then I piss myself off by thinking that the more time I’m spending with her, the harder it’s becoming to hate her for it.

Everything went to plan last night when we raided the Bastards’ storage container. We cleared the lot, taking back what was ours, and a whole lot that wasn’t.

We did leave them with something though. The mangled body of their rat, propped against the wall of the now empty storage container. It was a clear enough message that trying to fuck us over was a real bad idea.

Despite the success of our evening, I can’t shake off the feeling that something isn’t right. They still have a source of information, and I know this is far from over.

Roswell is still at the compound when I get back from dropping off Hayley. We all know how important keeping him onside is, not having the law constantly on our backs is critical to keeping things running smoothly around here. It helps keep ATF off our backs too. Now that the Bastards’ shit is popping up in Manitou Springs, Roswell is getting curious about what we plan to do about it.

“We’re workin’ on it,” Prez tells him, sipping at his expresso and rubbing his temples. We all celebrated a little too hard last night when we got back to the compound, turns out what the Mexicans supply to the Bastards was pretty good.

“We just had a few problems of our own to take care of.”

“I get that Jimmer, but I have people to answer to, and those people are starting to climb down my neck. Manitou Springs has always managed to keep drugs out of town, and all of a sudden we’re getting more and more reports. Teresa Monroe’s boy had to have his stomach pumped two nights ago. So now she’s on a one-woman mission to resolve the drug problem in town herself. You guys don’t need me to spell it out to you where everyone’s gonna assume that shit’s coming from.”

“I hear ya, and be assured my boys are onto it.” Prez reaches behind the bar and slams down one of the blocks we took from the Bastards’ lock up last night.

“As you can see, we’ve already worked on shortening the supply.”

Roswell smirks. “You know I should really take that in for evidence.”

“Nah-ah,” Prez shakes his head. “Finders keepers.” He returns the block to where it came from, and Roswell shrugs his shoulders.

He gives us some details of the incidents that have been reported, and we promise to take care of it. When he stands up to leave, I walk with him to the door. I like Roswell, despite the fact he’s a cop. When the last chief retired five years ago, the club worried we’d lose our relationship. But Roswell proved he was a sensible guy and decided to follow in his, very successful, predecessor’s footsteps. It made his job a hella lot easier to work with us, rather than against us.

I see him out to his patroller and watch him pull off just as Screwy and Squealer cross the yard from the garage. Squealer raises his arm to Roswell and Screwy tips his head in a recognition that could easily be missed.

---