Game Changer (Hell's Saints Motorcycle Club) (24 page)

“Well, this is new.” Glory was looking out the window of the lake house.

I went to stand behind Glory. We both stood at the window watching Claire ride up to the house on the back of Reno’s bike.

“Yep, that’s new alright.” I nodded in agreement.

I put the palm of my hand on the small of my back and stretched. Glory and I turned to the door as a very flushed windblown sister came bouncing through the door. And she was smiling. As a matter of fact she was all smiles. She was smiling and bouncy.

This was not good

Glory and I looked at each other then looked at Claire. I opened my mouth to say something and the words were stopped just short of coming out.

“I know. I know. I know. I know. I KNOW.” Claire made the stop sign with her hand.

She ran upstairs and came down with the rest of the twinkling lights we had bought for the party.

Then she bounced back out the door only pausing once to look at us and throw another “I KNOW” at us as she scurried past.

Glory and I turned to each other.

“Well, I guess it could be worse.” Glory said.

“How?” I answered.

Glory just smiled.

We went back to putting the finishing touches on Prosper’s cake. Pinky had planned a big blowout for Prosper’s 60
th
. We had been cooking mountains of food for days and the boys had dug out three deep pits where pigs would be roasting. Brothers were coming in from Nevada and Willows Point to join the festivities. All available space at the compound was taken. Tomorrow I knew there would be a small but impressive show of federal and local police enforcement lining the street going up to the private driveway. They always did that when there was a large gathering of the MC.

While I loved Prosper I was not looking forward to this party. I knew Diego had been stuck to the compound lately like white on rice and besides that, no brother wanted to miss the opportunity of raising a glass to Prosper on his birthday. The brothers had been arriving all day and it was to be a weekend long celebration. My plan was to go over early to the ranch house to deliver the cake and food. I thought this would the best way of contributing to the festivities without actually having to take part in them.

Claire, Glory, Dolly, Jules, Reno and I had chipped in and bought Prosper and Pinky VIP tickets to the Nascar Sprint Cup Series and the plane tickets that went along with them. That gift would be presented to them at the party.

But I had another gift for him.

A little something special that I wanted to deliver myself. Weeks before I had made an appointment with a jewelry designer in town. We had worked together to come up with a necklace for Prosper. A tiny sterling silver harmonica hung from a soft leather chord. On the same jump ring as the harp, hung a teeny roughly hewn angel wing set with two diamonds. One for me and one for Claire. It was beautiful and perfect and I knew he would love it.

The MC womenfolk had been cooking up a storm all week. I knew the kitchen house had been a sea of activity because Jules had taken to showing up at the lake house early in the morning for coffee and spending a good part of the day with us complaining about it. It was kind of funny really. Big bad Jules, six foot four inches of muscle bound mountain. This scarred, tattooed warrior was sitting in our kitchen kvetching about women taking over his pots and pans. Glory complained to me every night about Jules “barging in” and prayed that the preparations for the party would be over soon.

On the fourth day of Jules’s unsolicited visits, Glory read in the local paper that the lake had been stocked for the season. When he arrived she was waiting for him on the front porch. Glory handed Jules a tackle box, a fishing pole, and a cooler containing a six pack and three liverwurst sandwiches. Then she sent him out to the dock. He came back hours later smiling with a bucket full of bass. The next day when he caught a large trout, we took a picture of him holding it up in his massive paw and smiling.

A fisherman had been born.

Jules love of fishing continued long after the disruption of his kitchen had ended and he showed up several times a week to drop a line. Glory took to having sandwiches ready for him and she seemed to delight in thinking up different combinations. It had been months since the
incident
but Glory still stayed pretty much at home. The first time she had ventured out completely on her own was to go to a delicatessen fifteen miles away to stock up on various condiments, meats and cheeses that she thought Jules might like.

A couple of weeks later I noticed two fishing poles instead of one leaning against the shed door.

“I’ll go if you’ll go.” Glory was standing in the door of my bedroom.

“Go where?” I was putting away my laundry.

“Prosper’s party.” Glory said nonchalantly moving to help me with the clothes.

“Prosper’s party?” I had stopped what I was doing and was looking at her.

“Yeah.” Glory was moving to hang up my shirts.

“You would consider going to Prosper’s party?” I felt like an idiot but the question bore repeating.

“I dunno, maybe just for a few minutes.” Glory was hanging another shirt.

“You would go to Prosper’s party?” I asked again.

“Raine.” Glory stopped what she was doing and looked at me. “Yes. I would consider going to Prosper’s party.”

“You…” I began.

“Stop that.” Glory said.

“Jesus Glory, forgive me but it’s not like you’ve been exactly jumping to go anywhere lately and now you tell me the one event you think you may want to attend is an outlaw biker birthday party with a greeting party of federal law enforcement?”

“Well, if you put it that way…..” Her voice trailed off.

I immediately felt guilty. Who was I to discourage Glory from going to the first thing she had felt any interest in attending in months? Shame on me. Glory was my friend and I should support her in this first valiant attempt at venturing forth.

“Well, I ‘m not going,” I said.

“You can’t hide from him forever Raine.” Glory said softly.

“I’m not hiding.” I said softly back.

But she was not wrong.

I
was
hiding and it couldn’t keep going on. I was tired of it. Tired of looking over my shoulder, tired of having to call Pinky to call Prosper to call me because he was old school and refused to get a cell for anything other than club business. It had been months since I had dialed the number to the compound. Months since I had stepped foot on club property. I missed it. I missed dropping in on Prosper and taking walks with him on the wooded paths, I missed the French toast that Jules insisted could only be made properly in his own kitchen, I missed dropping off outrageously expensive rich creamy French pastries for the brothers and watch them gobble them up leaving mustaches of Bavarian Crème and powdered sugar on their scruffy hard faces. I missed all of it.

I sighed heavily and looked at Glory with care worn eyes.

“The things he said Glory. I hear them.
I still hear them
. And I don’t know how to look at the man who said them to me.” I said sitting down heavily on the bed.

Glory sat down next to me. “You don’t have to see him honey.”

“But he’ll be there. Not just today, or tomorrow. He’ll be
there.
This club is his family and now we’ve made it ours. He will always be
there.
I’ll always have to see him.” My shoulders were slumped.

“There’s a way of looking at a man without seeing him, Raine. You can look right through him.” Glory took my hand “I’ve been doing it for years.”

I looked down at our clasped hands and looked sadly up at Glory. This time the sadness was for her and not for me. I had watched Glory. I knew, like Pinky, her darkest secrets were about things that had been done to her. I also knew that unlike Pinky, some of Glory’s secrets were about things she had done to herself.

I squeezed her hand and held her eyes.

“Raine.” Glory began uncomfortably. “It hasn’t been lost on me what you and Claire and everyone else has done for me. The things you don’t say, the questions you don’t ask and the scars you pretend not to see. I thank god every night that when I finally fell, I landed here.”

“You saved my life, honey.” I held on tight to her hand and then added, “More than once.”

Glory’s eyes were wet. “And in doing that, Raine, I saved my own. You’ve taken me in and treated me like a sister. You’ve never asked. You’ve done for me what I couldn’t do for myself. You have given me back me.”

She smiled a little then.

“I was a dancer. Yeah,
that
kind. Not always, not in the beginning but eventually, yeah it came to that.
All nude. All the time
. That was me. It wasn’t something that I planned on Raine. It wasn’t supposed to happen that way, but it did and I was.”

She searched my eyes before going on. I was careful to keep them open and clear.

“Sometimes the shame of it almost killed me. Every time I went out there I felt the humiliation grow and grow until I thought it would swallow me whole. ”

“There’s no disgrace in doing what we need to do to survive, Glory.” I moved in closer to her so our bodies were touching from knee to shoulder. I would not leave her alone in the telling.

“You might think it strange, but the naked part didn’t bother me that much. My parents were throwbacks, left over from the days of free love and clothing optional solstice celebrations.” She smiled a little at that and I smiled a little back.

“It was the hunger in the eyes of the men when they looked at me that made me sick inside.” She held my gaze.

“It was an exclusive club.” She added quickly.

Then she laughed derisively, “What does that even mean? I used to wonder that. We danced buck naked for men just like any other stripper. They leered at us just the same, went home and jerked off to us just the same. Guess it meant no lap dances, no fat sweaty hands putting money in a G-string. The dark and the stage separated us from them. We wore golden headpieces and body jewelry and a strategically place sparkle now and again. But really, we were just naked dancers like the rest.”

Glory went on, “I didn’t escort but some of the girls did .There was a private lounge too. This area had its own private setting. Private stage, private bar, private cocktail waitress and private dancers. I worked that room a lot.
A lot
. Good money. Great money. Unbelievably fantastic money. There was that. The money part of it. I did it for the money, Raine.”

I nodded understandingly. That made sense but I wondered why Glory felt she needed all that money. If she felt so debased doing what she did why did she need the money? But I had learned long ago not to cast judgment. Someday we would know the whys of Glory’s sad story.

For now I would listen while Glory talked.

“I performed on stage while those disgusting men jerked off or got hard while the escorts wiggled in their laps getting them ready for the “later on”. And I could see them. They were right there. In the public stage downstairs, we usually performed together, parading in and out with ridiculous synchronized acts. The stage was so brightly lit you couldn’t really see the customers. This was in Vegas did I tell you that? Did I remember to tell you that?” Glory eyes were looking at me bright with tears.

“No honey, you didn’t.” I answered.

She nodded and continued, “Well, it was. When I danced downstairs it wasn’t as bad. But then after the act, they would often request a private show and the deal was we had to go. Had to dance privately. But anything else, that was up to us. They were real good about that. It was up to us. I never did any of the other stuff, but the private dancing was bad enough. I could see them. I could see their faces. I could hear their thoughts. It was revolting. But I had to do it. It was something that, at the time, I had to do. So I learned how to hide my revulsion. Revulsion was bad for business. So I taught myself to look right through them, see right passed them. I learned to be where they were but have them disappear.”

“That’s how I know you can do it too.” Glory focused on me and was back.

Then she looked horrified. “Oh god, Raine I know it’s not the same. Diego isn’t that guy. He isn’t that leering disgusting guy, I didn’t mean it that way. Not at all. Not at all.”

“I know that honey. I know you didn’t mean that.” I was quick to reassure my panicked friend

“I only meant that there is a way of avoiding seeing him when he is where you need or want to be. Doing that may make it easier for you until you are ready to deal with him again.”

I doubted if that would ever happen. If I ever would be ready to deal with him again. If I could ever look at Diego without hearing the words he threw at me. If I could ever see him without revisiting the fury in his eyes at the news I was carrying his child. Maybe there would come a time when I could look at him and not feel that pain. That absolute total pain that presented itself like anger. Maybe there would come that time.

But until then, I had to find a way to be where he might be. To stand where he might stand and not be effected. I needed to not see him. I needed to have him hidden from me when he was in plain sight.

“Teach me how, teach me how to make him disappear.” I said to Glory.

And she did

After Glory and I talked I felt better. And I think she did too. We were both afraid and that made us both braver in the long run. Strength in numbers or something like that.

Anyway, like the misbegotten princesses in some old forgotten fairy tale, Glory and I were going to the ball.

And it was time to get dressed.

It was fun actually. Glory did my hair and I did her makeup. We both chose sundresses. Hers was a beautiful soft cotton blue that was long and stopped midway on her pretty toned calves. It had a strapless bandeau top that crossed tightly over her breasts and fell into soft drapes around her. She wore thin flat white sandals on her feet. The look was sexy without being trashy and the cotton made the dress casual enough for the party. Honestly with that cute little pixie cut of hers, when she didn’t sex it up just a fraction, she looked to be about twelve years old. A fact we lovingly teased her about often. But Glory didn’t seem to mind. Once she told me the newly shorn hair felt like it gave her a chance on a newly shorn life.

Nothing wrong with that.

My dress was a flirty little thing. It was black rayon with tiny little pink flowers sprinkled liberally throughout the fabric. It was one of my new maternity dresses so the waist band was set empire and it flowed nicely over my little round tummy. It had an eyelet trim peeking out from the hem and bodice which gave it a country look. It stopped just at my knees. I was going to wear a thin pair of strappy sandals but then thought about the unevenness of the field and dirt road of the compound and decided on my new cowboy boots. They had been expensive and were beautifully stitched with pretty designs. They were feminine without being clunky. I kept my hair loose but tied it with a pretty pink ribbon.

When I looked in the mirror, I thought I looked beautiful. My skin had deepened to a golden tan, and the prenatal vitamins had added luster to my hair. At this stage of the pregnancy I had lost the chubby no waist look and it had been replace by a definite baby bump. Thankfully most of the weight had gone there. So far there had been no puffing out of my ankles or face. I still looked like me, I thought, only a better me. A prettier, healthier, happier me. A braver me. A mommy me.

Claire was behind the food tables when we got there. They had gathered the half dozen or so picnic tables and set them up end to end. The tables were covered with cloths and those heated disposable foil trays. In between the trays of ziti, and meatballs and sausage stood mountains of desserts. I counted four kegs of beer already set up, and there were three pigs roasting in the three pits. A band had set up further out in the field and they were tuning and doing sound checks. I chuckled to myself as I thought that this was the bikers’ version of wine, women and song. It was men, music and meat.

I was still smiling when I almost walked straight into him. Still smiling while I remembered what Gory had taught me. Still smiling when I looked straight through him.

The afternoon had been progressing pretty well. Mostly Claire, Glory and I hung back and stayed behind the food tables, serving up it up to the masses, keeping things hot, getting rid of the cold stuff and bringing out the fresh stuff. We knew we didn’t have to do it but it was where we all were most comfortable. We fit in but we didn’t. You would think that a biker club like this one who had such disregard for the law or anything mainstream would not give two damns about labels and where folks belonged. But they did. There was a definite pecking order and hierarchy of the way things went down.

Glory, Claire and I fell under Prosper’s umbrella. Everyone knew at this point that the baby I was carrying was Diego’s but that I was not his anymore. They knew Glory belonged to no one and what was happening between Claire and Reno was anybody’s guess. And the knowing of this stuff mattered to them. It mattered to the women who were interested in being owned by Diego or Reno and it mattered to the men who were interested in laying claim to one of us.

So while we got the respect of belonging to Prosper’s family (and that respect went a long way), we didn’t get the entitlement of being hands off either. Plainly speaking, the three of us were fair game. So we stood where the tables would separate us from the wolves.

And we stayed together. For the most part, we stayed together.

But the first time I saw him again, I was alone.

I had been moving toward the door with two handfuls of cold cuts trays. I was thinking about how I was going to manage opening it with both hands full. I laughed at myself for being so dumb as to fill both my hands knowing I was going to have to open the damn door. I was almost upon it when it opened for me.

I knew it was him. I smelled the clean smell of soap wafting through the screen. I knew the muscled shoulder and the tattooed bicep that held that door open. I almost lost my lunch when squeezing past him caused my protruding belly to brush against his in a long motion while I tried to navigate the door, my balance and the two trays on my hand.

I knew it was him.

But I didn’t look up.

Not once.

My eyes never moved past my line of vision. I heard him call my name softly as I passed him. Then as my eyes lowered to fasten on those trays, I muttered a quiet thank you and walked on.

I walked right passed him.

Then I busied myself in the refrigerator and felt him leave.

Only when I heard the screen door snap close, did I breathe again, putting my palm on my belly and a hand to my head.

Glory was right, my eyes had rendered Diego invisible.

But my heart…well, that was another story. My heart had known he was there.

My heart had known. It had shown me it had known by skipping a few beats and sending a drumming to my ears and a sweat to my palms. But it had also shown me that it had recovered. That the pain from being near Diego had not stopped my heart from beating.

The pain of seeing him had not and would not kill me.

I rested a little easier after that. Glory, Claire and I were spelled from our duties and we grabbed something to eat and went to sit closer to the music and Prosper.

“Hey, grandpa.” I leaned down and kissed his cheek.

“Hey Lil Darlin’” Prosper patted the side of my face as I leaned in to him.

“How’s that grandbaby of mine doing?” he asked.

I smiled at him and patted my tummy the way pregnant women do and I said” Baby is loving him some meatballs and reggae.”

“Him?” Pinky leaned in.

I laughed at that, “Just a pronoun, Pinky. Not an indication.”

“So you still don’t want to know what my grandbaby is gonna be?” Prosper asked with just a slight slur beginning to form around his words. The day had turned into dusk and he had been nursing his brews all afternoon, pacing himself. The empties in front of him constantly being replaced.

“Don’t know, don’t care….”

“Don’t matter!” Pinky, Prosper, Claire and Glory finished the sentence in unison for me. We had had this conversation a few times before.

I laughed good naturedly.

Suddenly I felt the air change around me and a shadow stand next to me. His big arm reached around me to put another round in front of Prosper.

“Happy Birthday, boss.” Diego did the man arm shake thing with Prosper. Crow was behind him and did the man arm thing too.

“Thank ya brotha.” Prosper’s slur a little more pronounced now and he staggered on his first attempt to stand up.

“Sit down, old man. And drink the fuck up.” Crow set down a sterling engraved flask with the Saints insignia on it, Prosper’s name and the date he founded the MC.

“What the fuck is this?” Prosper roared.

“It’s your goddamn birthday present you ungrateful sonofabitch.” Crow rejoined.

“Jesus, look at that date.” He was holding the flask in his somewhat unsteady hand. “Been doing this a long time. Guess I don’t look too bad for an old fuck.”

“Oh yeah, you’re one pretty bastard, Prosper.” Crow said. Then he put a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label in front of him.

“Whoaaa hooo hooo hooo! What we got here?” Prosper’s bleary eyes were focused.

“Just a little something to put in the flask from my man, D and me.” Crow said.

“Thank ye boys. Thank ya vewwy muxh.” Prosper was slurring steadily now.

“Jesus.” Pinky pushed the bottles away from him and shoved her cup of hot coffee in front of him. “If you don’t want me to have the boys bring you home and tuck your drunken birthday ass into bed, you better drink up.”

“S’okay.” Prosper said with a grin and reached for the coffee cup.

Crow looked at me and caught my eye. “How’s it going Raine?”

I nodded at him.

“Glory, Claire.” Crow nodded at them.

They nodded back.

I turned to go and Diego was in my path. I did what Glory told me to do and did not look up past his chest. Did not look into his eyes.

“How are you, Raine?” He asked me.

I felt my heart race and the baby move.

“I’m okay.” I responded.

“Good. Glad to hear it. You look okay.” He said.

Okay? I looked okay?

I glanced up at him then. Big mistake. Big stupid mistake.

Because he didn’t look so good. Oh, he looked
good.
He always looked good. Diego was a big badass good looking guy. No getting around that. So it wasn’t that he didn’t look good, he looked damn good but he also looked worried. He looked sick with worry. He looked like a man who hadn’t slept in a long time. Stubble filled his hollowed cheeks and he had fine lines around his eyes that I didn’t remember seeing before.

Well, join the club I thought. Join the goddamn club.

I raised my eyebrows.

“I mean you look okay, but better than okay. You look uhhhh…you look uhhh.” Diego was looking at me from head to toe, his eyes lingering on my rounded belly.

“You look uhhhh…” Diego was still stuck.

“Pregnant. Diego. I look pregnant.” I thought I would help the idiot out.

Then I walked passed him. Again, straight passed him.

Then my girls got up and walked straight passed him too.

Crow scrubbed his hand over his face, slapped D hard on the shoulder and said, “Jesus, D. You look….uhhhhhh? What the fuck was that?”

“I was gonna say beautiful.” Diego said watching Raine walk away.

“Yeah, well that probably would have been a fuckload better.” Crow was watching Raine walk away too.