Glory (20 page)

Hypomania was a seductive thing. It changed you, made you impulsive, lowered your inhibitions, and made you feel free. Yet with that liberation came the slow process of self-destruction. What happened when I stopped feeling anything at all?

It was late in the afternoon, and luckily, the flares hadn’t taken the power down. This had been the longest we went without any flare action. In some ways, it was good. It reminded me a lot of the time before the flares where we lived our lives without worry and the threat of sun fever. However, there was also that impending sense of doom that followed me as time went on. What would happen if the flares stopped for good? Or was there another big series of flares just waiting to unleash and take our electricity and means of communication indefinitely?

Over the music, I heard the familiar rumbling sounds of engines in the distance. My anxiety spiked as if it was a pre-conditioned response to the stimuli. I turned to Hanna who was standing behind the bar. “Are Glory coming?” It had been days since they last returned, Newt’s death keeping them occupied. Hastie hadn’t told me about his death; I had actually learned about it from Hanna and it hurt more knowing that Hastie had that weighing on his shoulders as well when we fought.

Hanna gave a little sniff, ignoring my question as she placed the more expensive alcohol on the back shelf. I shuffled quickly to her, placing my hand over the bar and repeating my question again.

She turned and met my eyes, anger lingering in the deep pools of blue. “Yeah,” she finally answered. The one word held a world of bitterness.

“Hanna, what’s going on?” I asked carefully.

Sighing heavily, the redhead settled her hands on the neck of a Jack Daniels bottle. “We’ve stopped seeing each other.”

My eyes bulged out like a cartoon. “What? When did this happen?”

“A few days ago.” Wait. Was this why Glory MC hadn’t been rolling in as often?

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Hanna shook her head, sending tendrils of red falling out of its clip where she had put it up. “I don’t need to talk about him! He’s wasted enough time in my life.” She leaned over the bar. “I’m a smart woman, you know?” She paused, looking to me. I nodded vigorously. “I’m not just one of Glory’s groupies. I’ve got a bar to run. I don’t take any shit from anyone. So I left him.”

My eyebrows rose. “Why?”

“I’m not cut out for Glory life.” Her voice sounded tired, deflated. “Neptune’s is my home, my baby. I can’t afford to run wild like the rest of Glory MC do.”

I pondered this. Her words seemed unusually similar to my own thoughts about Glory MC and why life with a certain Green-Eyed Biker was an impossibility. Hanna took my silence as pity. “He asked me to marry him.”

This time, I didn’t bother to hide my shocked expression.
“Knuckle wanted to marry you?”
Marriage had crumbled into dust when the flares started, but people still did it from time to time as a way to bring sacred traditions back. That Knuckle Haste, prez of Glory MC wanted to dig up old customs sounded crazy!

Hanna laughed. “I know! Can you believe it? Knuckle Haste wanting to marry?” Then her expression sobered, turning morose. “I couldn’t do it. I said no. I told him that his life was too hectic for me. He took it badly and we fought.”

“I’m sorry, Hanna.”

She gave me a small smile. But I recognized that expression, had seen it in the mirror one too many times as I tried to hide my own pain from the world.

“With Newt’s death, his emotions have been all over the place. He’s not thinking clearly. I don’t want him marrying me to be a mistake when he gets over his grief.” She sighed, looking tired. “He’s free to use Neptune’s as his clubhouse. I realize that it’s as much a home for him as it is for me. But we aren’t together anymore.”

The club would be returning from Newt’s funeral so it was extremely considerate of Hanna to do this. I placed my hand over hers, offering comfort. “You have a big heart, Hanna. You’ll get over this.”

“He’s free to do whatever he wants. I can’t stop him. I realized I never held that power over him.”

“Glory men are hard to handle, aren’t they?”

“They are. But there are no other men like them.” Her voice held a tinge of longing and she looked at me as if trying to send an unspoken message. I wondered how much she really knew of Hastie and I.

Holding eye contact with her became too much so I looked away. She released my hand just as the sounds of rumbling grew louder and suddenly stopped. Hanna turned to wipe her hands on the rag before taking a deep breath. I recognized it for what it was; she was putting on her armor. My respect for her grew until it shone.

Stepping out from behind the bar, Hanna did what she did best. She greeted customers, took orders, and got swept up until it seemed that she was fine. I, on the other hand, held my breath as Glory members started pouring in one by one into Neptune’s.

My eyes zeroed in on Knuckle first as his big frame took up the entrance. Dark shades covered his eyes from direct view while the beard and bandana he sported covered the rest of his face. Dressed in black, Knuckle looked every bit the biker as he walked into the dive bar. But his stride lacked something this time. The powerful grace was still there, but he looked exhausted, his body dragging as he moved. He slumped into an empty seat and immediately ordered some hard alcohol.

Scanning the rest of the crowd, I saw Kitt. He shot me a wan smile that I returned. Lucky came in next and he nodded to me once before heading straight to the bar. Everyone’s moods were so grim and dark that my own heart felt heavy. It was no doubt the aftereffects of the funeral. Then Hastie walked in and my whole body clenched in fear.

I felt as if the whole world had disappeared. Time held its breath and Neptune’s shrank until it was only the two of us. His eyes met mine, but I didn’t recognize them. They were hard. Cold. Hastie looked at me as if I was a stranger.

I struggled to hide the pang of hurt that that look caused me. At least it wasn’t pity. Or even worse, disgust.

Steeling my spine, I broke eye contact first and finally turned away, moving towards the bar where Lucky drummed his fingers against the bar impatiently. “Indy,” he called out. “We gonna get some service here?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered as I grabbed a couple of shot glasses. Though I didn’t look up at him once, I could feel Hastie moving through Neptune’s, going over to talk with Kitt and some other guy I didn’t know. We spanned the room like two ends of a rainbow. But the only thing you’d find on either end were sour emotions and regret.

With Glory MC in the house, the bar became busy. Bikers and alcohol went hand in hand. It wasn’t until several hours later that I realized that Hastie wouldn’t come to talk to me. He hadn’t ordered any drinks from the waitresses either as if knowing I would be making them was enough reason to keep him sober.

I suddenly grew irritated with him all over again. Why did he have to be there to witness my latest fuck up? I couldn’t erase the image of pressing his gun up to my head from his mind as much as I wanted to. Or change his feelings when he witnessed it all. This whole mess was unsalvageable. But I wasn’t going to steep myself in regret while he stood there, not caring.

I poured another drink, this time shooting it back myself before I served another customer. Fuck it, if he didn’t care, why should I? Lucky caught it and laughed before I poured another two, slid one down the bar and toasted him. We drank in unison. The burn was deathly, but oh-so-good. If Hastie was going to avoid me, I might as well make the night a little more tolerable.

One of the new waitresses came up to the bar then. “Another one for Knuckle,” she said.

I raised an eyebrow at that. This was his twelfth one. Concerned, I shot a glance at the prez of Glory MC. He was still sitting in the chair I saw him in earlier. Only he had pushed it back from the table, giving him a wide enough space to stretch his legs. He didn’t look hammered, but plenty years of bartending told me that everyone handled alcohol differently. Maybe he had a high tolerance? I poured another shot, setting it on the bar, but as the new girl picked it up, I said, “Let him know that’s his last one.”

New Girl gave me a look like I had just told her to jump in front of a car. “No way! You tell him. There’s no way I’m fucking doing it.”

My annoyance doubled in that second. “Fine,” I snapped. “Then don’t give him the drink. We’ll see whose ass he comes after then.”

Eyes wide, New Girl snatched the drink, sloshing it over the rim and spilling it on the bar. I cursed but she hoofed it before I could yell at her some more.

Anger continuing to mount, I busied myself with mixing another set of drinks when I heard someone call my name. My head shot up and my eyes met the intense gaze of Knuckle’s.

Oh shit.

This was the first time he had ever spoken to me directly. The prez hadn’t moved from his chair, but had turned slightly so that he faced the bar. He spoke over the drone of music and chatter. “Gabi told me you’re cutting off my drinks for tonight.”

Gabi? Oh, right. The new girl. I’d cut the bitch for ratting me out like that.

“Just doing my job, sir,” I said as non-threatening and as non-confrontational as possible. Knuckle’s lips pulled into a wide grin when alarm bells started clanging in my head.

“C’mere.” Knuckle curled a finger at me. Like an obedient dog, I followed, stepping out from behind the bar. He was used to people following his orders. That was what happened when you were the kingpin of Ward Four. I’d be foolish not to follow.

As I approached him, he spread his legs open, those big muscular thighs encased in black leather widening to fit me. There was unrestrained power in his expression, leaving me feeling as if I was a submissive, willing to do anything her master commanded of her. Around me, people watched as I approached Knuckle with wary expressions.

“You’re a pretty one,” Knuckle said as he looked up at me. “Body like a dancer.” His eyes roamed my body, but I didn’t feel disgusted by his blatant perusal. Strangely, I felt the opposite. At least until he said, “Come sit on my lap.”

My eyebrows drew together in confusion. At my hesitancy, Knuckle’s gaze darkened, intensifying the power that seemed barely contained within him.

As if I had lost my backbone, I lowered myself onto him, keeping my eyes off Hastie where I knew he was watching. My heart beat rapidly in my chest, whether from fear or from adrenaline, I didn’t know.

A single finger tipped my head back and I reluctantly opened my eyes to look at Hastie’s father in his eyes. They were green, identical to Hastie’s, but they didn’t look at me with the same level of love and pride as his son did when he laid his eyes on me.

Hard lines made from experience streaked Knuckle’s face and the cut on his cheek looked stark against his tanned complexion. His next words startled me. “Got any moves?”

“Moves?” I blinked, unsure of what he really meant. What moves?

“If you’re not going to be serving me any more drinks, then you won’t be serving anyone else drinks either. Got a body like a dancer, so you must have some moves. Show me.”

Realization dawned and I almost cringed away from him. Knuckle wanted me to give him a lap dance!

My eyes darted around to find Hanna. I found her behind the bar, looking like someone had just slapped her across her face. She schooled her wide-eyed expression, that steely exterior back in its place. She nodded once at me firmly and I gaped. How could Knuckle lay a hand on another woman in her own bar?

I almost stormed off, not wanting to hurt Hanna in that way. But I’d be a fool to blow off Knuckle that way. The lingering gazes of the people around me, including Charlie’s, made it feel like I was backed up against a corner. I pushed my rising anxiety back, not allowing them the benefit of making me feel bad about myself for a second time. Though clubbing Charlie in the head with a stool was an accident, he acted as if I did it purposely. This time, I was absolutely positive I did nothing wrong. I wouldn’t be made into a spectacle all over again. There was no way I would let another man get the best of me now.

In a split second storm of emotions, I made the rash decision to go for it. While everyone was watching, I embraced the moment. If anything, this was my fuck-you to the world.

It was a fuck you to Charlie who made me feel embarrassed and useless. It was a fuck you to Knuckle and Hanna who had found love but decided against it because it was the easier thing to do. And it was a fuck you to Hastie for becoming more to me than I ever thought possible, shaking my brain up so that all my thoughts were consumed of him. I wasn’t giving up.
I was standing up.
This was me, putting on my armor. Just like Hanna did. Just like I always did. This time, I didn’t care what anyone thought of me.

I rose to my full height and cocked a hip out saucily, giving Knuckle a grin that would teach a siren a thing or two.

He seemed to buy my act because Knuckle grinned back, his eyes alight with a fire that burned from within.
Game on
, his eyes said. And he was all in. He settled back into his seat, resting his palms against his knees, waiting for the show to start.

As music poured from the speakers, I closed my eyes and began to sway to the beat. Like waves in a sea, my hips moved back and forth as I ran my hands up and over my body, liking the way Knuckle’s eyes followed wherever they went.

That was the thing about men. Whether they were young or old, you put your hands on your body and they immediately locked on it like a motion detector.

Time to give him one hell of a show.

I turned to show Knuckle my backside and got an appreciative groan in return.
Oh man. This was too easy.

At least until my eyes caught Hastie’s in the darkest corner of Neptune’s as he watched on with unbridled hostility in his eyes. His jaw was set in a tight line. I could see that he was just holding himself in with the way the veins popped out of his forearms, clenching his fists into tight balls at his sides. As if the people around him could sense his brewing hostility, they gave him a wide berth, giving him a way to come straight for me if he wished to. His eyes gave me a warning.
Don’t
, it said.