Rocky Road: Sequel Book Three

Chapter 11

Elena

I’ve gotten much better on this motorcycle - Mike’s motorcycle, which I suppose is mine now – as I make my way to the clubhouse. It’s time to figure out who the lingerer and gift giver is.

The wind is warm, as is the sun while it beats down on me. My hands are burning – I should have put on sunscreen.

When I turn a corner at the plaza in town, I notice a young brunette woman huddled on the ground outside of a Subway restaurant. She’s wearing a red baseball cap which hides her face as her head is down and her body is slumped, as if she’s given up on the world. The woman is clothed in a pair of gray yoga pants, and a dark blue t-shirt. There’s a black sweatshirt that she’s cradling in her arms.

Something about her seems familiar; with inquisitiveness, I slow down and park nearby. After placing the helmet on one of the handlebars, I dismount and cautiously walk up to her. She doesn’t notice me.

“Excuse me. Are you okay?” I ask out of concern, since where I’m from, when there’s someone out on the street like this – they are far from being okay.

Her head turns up and those dark brown eyes pierce me. The makeup isn’t as heavy as normal, but she’s still very beautiful, even with tear-stained cheeks.

I never cared for her. She was always a thorn in my side, but I’m not one to wish bad wishes on my enemies. After all, karma can be a b***h.

Much like Kara.

The gasp that escapes from my lips is involuntary, but I was not expecting her to be sitting out on the streets like this. It is then that I notice she isn’t just cradling an old tattered sweatshirt, but also a black backpack.

Me and my big heart can’t help but kneel next to her as she sniffs a few tears away. “Kara, are you alright? What happened?”

Her eyes narrow. “Why do you care?” she bites.

She’s right. I shouldn’t care, but sheer curiosity wins. So, I sigh and take a seat next to her on the hard cement. “Kara. Maybe I can help.”

Kara shakes her head and wipes a tear. “They kicked me out.”

My brows knit together. “The club?”

She nods. “There was no vote or anything, Jace just threw me out. He said that Mike would have wanted me thrown out for what I did.” She wipes her nose with the collar of her t-shirt. “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. I just wanted him to love me and now he’s gone, and I have nowhere to go.”

“Did they give you any money at least?”

“No. He took the money back that Mike left for me.”

Wait. What? “Mike gave you money?”

She nods then blubbers in a crying fit, “He left it for me and the baby.” Kara hides her face in her hands as she continues to cry over her failed attempt at trapping Mike in her web of lies, and now dealing with the consequences of her actions.

Why do I care about what happens to her? My lips fall into a deeper frown as I recognize the fact that having such a bleeding heart erupts such conflicting emotions. “You don’t have anywhere you can stay? Friends? Family?”

Her answer pulls out the weed of regret for my asking when she replies with a “No.” Now I feel like I need to take care of her. I remember Viper telling me once that there’s an old bunker type room in the basement of the church, where he stayed while getting sober. Maybe he will let her stay there until she’s on her feet…

Just when I’m about to ask, she says with a glimmer of hope, “I mean, my mom is in Alabama but…” Her face falls. “I don’t have any cash for a bus ticket.”

“How much is the ticket?” I ask while mentally counting the dollars in my wallet.

“Forty-eight dollars,” she frowns and swipes a stray tear. Without any further questions, I pull out my wallet from my back pocket and rifle out a hundred.

When I place it in front of her, those dark eyes stare at me like I grew a horn out of my forehead. “I don’t understand,” she whispers.

With a firm grip, I take her hand that was latched to her backpack and place the bill in the palm, then close it into a fist. “You don’t have to understand.” I sure don’t. Something is telling me to help her – I don’t want to ignore that. “Just take the money, get some food and a bus ticket. You should go see your mom.”

A certain type of understanding echoes between us as I give her a smile of sympathy before I stand and return to the bike. A blossoming feeling sprouts within my chest at the fact that I helped someone today – Kara – the last person I ever expected myself to have any compassion for.

Forgiveness, without even realizing I forgave her, is a powerful sensation.

Now, I just pray that she will use the money for what it’s meant for…

*******

“Elena! Wh-what are you doing here?” Squirrelly chimes with big eyes when I push through the door of the Devil’s Henchmen clubhouse. I’m not sure why he frantically looks around. The other men here seem just as flabbergasted that I’m here. Beer bottles are frozen halfway to their lips, pool cubes are frozen in mid action. It’s as if me walking inside caused a pause on their lifestyle.

It’s a little surprising, sure… but they almost seem guilty of something. What could they possibly be feeling guilty of around me? Are they hiding something even more illegal than black market guns or moonshine? Are they hiding a fugitive?

I let it go. “Hey Squirrelly, is Brent here?” I’ll start with Brent; he’s easy enough to talk to.

“Uh…” Squirrelly starts while darting his sights at Tick, who just looks uncomfortable – which says something. Tick is never uncomfortable unless emotions are involved… My eyes linger on him as I squint at the odd persona.

“Elena!”

I turn to my right at the deep bellow of my name. A smile involuntarily spreads across my face at the sight of Ron. “Ronald!” I greet and give him a hug as he hugs me back with his thick arms.

As he asks me, “What can we do for you?” I notice a little gesture is made by his hand before he puts an arm around my shoulder to steer me towards the bar. When I try to turn my head, he asks, “How are ya doin’ with that bike?”

Failing to look past my shoulder to see what his gesture was about, I answer him. “Fine. I’m getting better at it every day.”

“That’s good. Do you need any maintenance on it?” Ron pulls out a barstool for me; together we sit and a man I’ve seen around before, but don’t know his name gives Ron a shot.

He must think I’m here because I’m having issues with the steel steed. “No, nothing like that. I was wondering if I could have a little chat with your prospects.”

His bushy gray brows furrow at my request before he takes a shot of something brown at ten thirty in the morning.

Bikers.

“The prospects? What for?”

I decide to let him in on what’s going on. “Paul mentioned that someone relatively new in the club is keeping a close eye on me, but he’s also giving me gifts. I need him to know that he should stop.”

“Oh… uh. I’ll tell him for ya.” He nods reassuringly.

“It’s okay, I can talk to him if I just know who he is,” I offer. This is my problem and I’m more than okay to handle it.

“No, no. He doesn’t like to be seen. I’ll tell him. You don’t need to worry. Is it uncomfortable for you?” The last part is hesitant.

With thought, I answer him honestly. “Though the gestures are sweet. It is a little uncomfortable because I don’t know who he is, what his intentions are, and he needs to know that I’m not ready to move on.”

He nods once. “Understood. I’ll make sure he cools it down.”

The man behind the bar clears his throat and he and Ronnie share a look. A look that tells me that there is something going on in this clubhouse.

I’m not sure if I want to know…

****I am so sorry for the crazy delay. Life is kind of getting in the way of being able to sit down and write. I do hope to have chapter 12 up this week! I have a good hour to work on it right now.

Thank you so much for reading