Nightmare Warrior's MC

Chapter 2

Shawna

I move around as the sounds of X Ambassadors Unsteady booms around the room.

I place my hands in the air as I enter into my last step and freeze the pose. My body is sore, ankle especially, but I welcome the large smile that accompanies my face.

I did it. I finally finished my routine and I couldn't be happier.

I blow out a few deep breaths and do a little shimmy of celebration. I walk over to my small metal chair and sit on top of it. Drinking my water, I begin rubbing my ankle a few times. It's been a few days since I have been here in the studio to practice and my ankle is letting me know how unwelcome the feeling is.

I lean my neck back, to help get some blood rushing back to my head from the constant bowing I had just done. I jump out of the chair and place my hand on my heart when I hear someone clapping as they walk up the stairs and enter into the studio.

"Well now, I thought I heard someone up here." Miss O'Neal says walking in the room, the echo of her cane bouncing off the walls as it hits the hardwood floor.

"Sorry Miss O'Neal, I couldn't sleep and thought I would come out here and get a little practice in." She nods her head as she moves closer and closer to me.

"You know you won't be able to do this when they tear down this building and make it a coffee shop or a parking lot?" She tilts her head until her thick glasses stop just above her nose and opens her eyes wide. The pose would be hilarious if the dagger she threw into my heart didn't sting quite as bad.

"I'm not going to let that happen remember?"

"Honey please. It's been almost two years and you still haven't even paid off half the damages done have you?"

"No."

"So, how in the world do you plan on buying this place by then?" She throws her small arms up in the air and dramatically pulls them back down with a thump to her thighs.

"Ever heard of positivity Miss O'Neal?" I smile and place my hands on her shoulders. I know she is worried I won't have the money by the time the owner is ready to sell to anyone that is willing to finally rid him of this dump, but I have a contingency for that. Well, sort of.

"Girl, when you get my age, and can only see out of one eye with your glasses on, you tend not to have too much positivity." I laugh at yet another of her cracks at getting older.

Pushing seventy-three, Margarette O'Neal was always more of a parent to me than my own foster family. My earliest memories are of growing up being shipped to foster family after foster family. I was never made aware of how I got there or who my parents are, but I know I experienced something traumatic because I had nightmares as a child for years. Sometimes I would get images pop in and out of people hurting my parents right in front of me and other times, I would see my father dropping me off at a foster home.

By age fourteen, I was barely in school, and hanging around the wrong crowds. One day, a friend of mine had an idea. She wanted to break into this old building that was rumored to have retail chains brand new merchandise inside. It was a stupid thought, but we were young, so we did it. Turns out, it was this building, and a woman was fixing it up to be a ballet class for children. I fell in love with it instantly. We obviously got caught and our punishment was to do community service. I opted to do it at the studio. I would come in after class every day and help with cleaning. I would scrub and mop the floors, clean the mirrors and help recruit little kids to join up. Everything about it called to me.

Miss O'Neal was the owner by then but knew she couldn't afford to keep it afloat without making the rent much higher on the current teacher, Mrs. Knowles. She eventually had to let it go as a wash, but unfortunately no one wanted to buy. By then, a social worker had gotten a hold of me and told me I would receive my parents life insurance when I turned eighteen. Mrs. Knowles promised to let me rent it as soon as I turned twenty-one, as long as I graduated from high school. Until then, I would help her out as I had been doing, only she would hire me as her assistant. I made the deal and the week after I turned twenty-one, I ran over to Miss O'Neal with a check for the deposit. She would still own it, and I would make the payments. Win-win.

The studio was mine and I welcomed it with love and passion. I immediately had students to teach and couldn't be happier. The night Max and I broke up after he returned back home from his last tour, was the worst night of my life and unfortunately was a domino effect to where we are now.

"You know, you could solve this whole thing with one quick phone call. You know those club boys have the means." I am shaking my head at her before she can even finish her thoughts.

"No, Miss O'Neal, we have talked about this already. I can't do that to him. His mental state probably wouldn't even let him cope with the guilt he would have. Besides, it's not like he would listen to me anyways. Remember when I tried to find out about his club being involved in drugs again?"

Last year the Nightmare Warriors went through some pretty horrendous s**t. They were set up by a business mogul named Nicholas Cole and almost killed. I had called Max to make sure he was safe and he basically hung up on me.

"That may have something to do with a certain lie you told the man."

"It doesn't matter anyways. What's done is done and Max and I are done." I say, then grab my water, towel and change of clothes.

"Plumbing is out."

"Seriously?" I say slumping down. Great, now I have to drive all the way home in this heat with no air conditioning while smelling like a sewer. "Guess I'll head home then, you need some help going down Miss O'Neal?"

"No girl, you get your butt home and don't keep coming here. You know as well as I do, you are just setting yourself up for failure." Did I mention Miss O'Neal can be a bit of a downer?

"Don't you worry Miss O'Neal, when I own this baby again, I'm going to make sure you have your own office here. Your powerful words of wisdom should be heard from all corners of this place." I'm met with a finger in the air as I walk out laughing and head to my car.

My beat up old Toyota meets me outside in all it's horrible glory. With the left-over money I had after my down payment, I got myself a car, although not a very good one. It may be legally ready to die at any moment, but it gets me from point A to point B and I couldn't ask for more.

I don't have to be at work until two today and it's at May's bar. I began working there, right after the night Max and I broke up. I knew I needed some cash and there weren't many places wiling to hire someone with no college degree. I had worked at a bar before so they allowed me to work there with open hours, and decent pay and tips. Last night I had worked at the bar and came straight home after my shift around three o'clock. I couldn't sleep much so after tossing and turning for hours, I finally gave up and headed to the studio to finish the routine that wouldn't leave my mind. I never gave back the key I had and haven't regretted that decision once. Fortunately I don't work at the diner today, so when I get home I am able to just crash.

Once I found out about the cash flow being even more depleted to get back the studio from the bank whom now owns it, I knew I had to take in another job. As exhausted as I am, the pay helps. Miss O'Neal makes a good point when it comes to telling Max about my problems but I stand by what I said to her. I hate what Max has put me through and every time I get angered by it, it makes me want to storm over to the compound and tell him all about it. But I know what it will do to him. I know it will kill him to know what really went down that night. No, it's best he believes the lie I gave him. Even if I don't get the studio, at least it's something I could potentially live with. Him finding out the truth is definitely not something I could.

There is not a day that goes by that I don't miss Max. His strong arms carrying me whenever I was too tired. His excitement every time he finished a chopper and wanted to show me. Even after his dad died and we visited his mother once a week. He has always been a loving and caring person, able to wear his heart on his sleeve and still be a badass. Whatever went down overseas, it changed him.

I pull up to my house and see the two cars of my roommates parked as well. After everything went down with Max and I, I had to move into what I thought would be a temporary place. I frequented a coffee shop often before work and became close to the woman that was there just as early as I was. Inette Tucker was a miracle standing there in coveralls, a white tee, and loads of long dark blonde hair. She offered me a room in the house she rents along with her little brother Ivan.

I place my keys in the small ceramic bowl and head straight to the fridge. It's a small house, perfect for the three of us never being home. It's a three-bedroom, two-bathroom cottage house with a bright red door. There are white boxed windows and a small white gate that separates it from the road. I fell in love with the house the moment Inette brought me here.

"Shawna?" Inette calls out and comes around the corner from the hallway wearing her glasses that she only puts on if she is reading or has been on the computer too many hours. It's normally the latter for my best friend.

"In the kitchen." I yell back out to her and grab an apple and kiwi.

"Did you work all night and start an early shift at the diner again?"

"No, I couldn't sleep when I got in this morning, so I went down to the studio. I finally finished my routine so it was worth all the soreness I feel."

"You're going to pass out again girl."

Why does everyone say I passed out that day? I didn't necessarily pass out. I may have kind of swerved a little then fell over a mop. Benny, my manager at Burgen's Diner, freaked and called an ambulance thinking something serious might have happened even though I told him I was fine. They took me to the hospital and told me I was exhausted and a little dehydrated. To be fair, I did work both jobs that day. Something neither of my employers will ever let me do again.

"I'm fine Inette. What are you doing here anyways? Shouldn't you be at work?" I ask as I begin dicing my fruit.

Inette works at a local newspaper. She is a dedicated reporter and loves her job. She is also dangerously good at it. She is the kind of person that does not rest until she has all the details of the juiciest topics. Including the illegal kind.

"Technically, I am at work. The building is being renovated so we were told to work from home these next few days."

"That will be nice." I say walking over to the blender and placing my cut-up fruit, ice, and milk in the machine.

"Hell yeah. By the way, I got some more info on your boys club." I roll my eyes at the description she always gives the Nightmare Warriors MC.

A few months ago, Inette gave me some info on the club when she was chasing down a rumor that had to do with the drug business and some business typhoon. She had told me about the guys having a shooting at the clubhouse. I was worried and decided to call Max, figuring he had kept the same number from when we broke up. He answered, told me it was nothing and hung up.

I won't lie and say it didn't sting my heart when he did it, but I put on a brave face in front of Inette and told her that he confirmed it being nothing.

"I mean it, this time it sounds pretty serious. One of them was arrested." This stops me before I can turn on the blender and I spin around and face her once again.

"Which one?"

"You know I don't know their club names or whatever the hell you call them, but his real name was listed on the arrest form."

"And how the hell did you get that?" I cross my arms knowing what my best friend and roommate most likely did, or who she most likely did, to get it.

"Don't give me that stance. For you information, I kept my hands to myself. One of the cops owed me a favor. Besides, they like to work with us because sometimes since we solve the crime for them."

"Sure you do." I say sarcastically.

"Ha-ha. His name is Robert Ortiz." I shake my head knowing who it is but can't understand why in the world why someone would arrest Dipp.

"You know him?"

"Yeah, his club name is Dipp. But that doesn't make sense. Why did they arrest him? He is an old timer, club is his life and lives alone."

"Supposedly they found some drugs at his house. Lots of them. Form didn't say how much, but the product was ecstasy."

"That doesn't make any sense. Club doesn't deal in drugs anymore, and they never dealt with ecstasy." I blast the blender, and sit and watch the fruit, milk and ice morph into the perfect concoction one should always have after a workout.

"So you've told me, but ever think maybe they are going back?"

"I wouldn't think so. Austin and Max lost their father to a bad drug run. They all have families and kids now. They wouldn't get back into it now. It's not like they are hurting for money."

And they weren't. As far as I knew, the club owned many places, including a mechanics shop, a strip club, and a dance club. I wasn't a complete i***t and knew they most likely still sold guns but it wasn't like it used to be. It also wasn't something I was going to mention to Inette.

"Hmm. I don't know. But I couldn't make up the arrest if I wanted to. This Dipp character has never had a past with drugs. In fact most of the time any of the Nightmare Warriors were arrested in the past, was for suspicion. Seems like cops just bring them in to see if they will break."

"It does sound strange, but I'm sure they will handle it." I was positive they would. Austin Stone was a strong leader who surrounded himself with strong men. Max being one of them.

"I was thinking of going down there and asking a few questions." I nearly spit out my shake when she finishes her thoughts out loud.

"Don't Inette. Promise me you won't. These guys won't like someone whose sole purpose of their career is to find out the truth."

"Oooh, think they will lock me in their dungeon and do naughty things to me?" I laugh at her vivid thoughts. Inette has always been a little on the seductive side when it came to s*x. Something she never had a problem with when it came to a partner.

"Speaking of naughty, where is your brother? I saw his car outside but I thought for sure he would have emerged from his room when I started my blender."

Ivan Tucker was the younger brother of Inette and if you asked her, the bonified pain in her ass. He was also very much her twin. Despite the six years apart, they looked exactly alike. Ivan's blonde hair was long, although he often wore it in a man bun. They had the same brown eyes and small framed face. They moved in with each other when he moved out here from California, intent on being a model. Within a few months, he was all over magazines and catalogs. Ivan is what you might call gorgeous, and is ironically humble about it. He is the majority bread winner on behalf of our trio.

"He's in Maine again." Inette says rolling her eyes and doing a fake gagging sound with her throat.

"Again? Wow, I guess your dad really wants to see him."

"Guess so."

"Have you thought of going up there to see him yourself?"

"And then what, be with his family like some kind of step child?" I giggle at her dramatics. My best friend can be a little much at times.

Inette and Ivan's mother passed away of cancer two years ago, and soon after their father admitted to having an affair on her years ago. They were upset and hurt, and rightfully so. None of them have any idea if their mother knew about it or not. His father now lives in Maine with his wife and twelve-year-old daughter. Ivan has recently rekindled with his father, but Inette still holds in a lot of pain and guilt. She hates that she misses the man that didn't have enough balls to tell his wife about his secret life but told his children on her deathbed.

She has asked my opinion plenty of times, but I always tell her the same thing. I never had parents, but I can understand wanting to never be hurt by them. As angry as she is, if her father were to die tomorrow, she would regret not letting him back in.

"I am still so angry with him, but above all that, I feel like I would be telling him I am okay with him never telling my mother. It's like all is forgiven if I start speaking with him again. And how is that fair to my mother you know?"

I nod my head understanding the situation and lean over to lay my hand gently on top of hers. "I'm here for you if you need anything, you know that right?"

Inette nods her head, then clears her throat before she can tear up. She has always been the strong one between the two of us. I'm the opposite, I tend to show my emotions easily. At least a certain blonde haired, sexy badass biker could always read them.

"Enough of this dramatic cry fest." Inette says shaking her head and wiping just below her eyes. "You seemed to be in a good mood. Did you finish your routine?"

"Yes. I finally finished it and love the ending. I finally have something to open up with."

"I'm proud of you honey. Really I am, but don't you think it might be time to let Max in on what happened? Your dreams could come true a lot faster you know."

"You sound like Miss O'Neal."

"A smart one she is." I laugh once again and finish off my smoothie.

"No, I need to do this on my own. Max doesn't need to know anything because I already know what will happen when he does find out. We're history and if he were any other man, I would have hunted him down and made him pay, but he isn't."

"Why, because you still love him?"

"No. Because he isn't the same person he was when he came back home."

We sit in silence both reflecting on what I just said when Inette breaks the silence first.

"Well, since you insist on making those non-appetizing smoothies, can I at least offer you some real food."

"Yes, please. But first, I am going to shower." I laugh.

"By the way Shawna, you sure you don't have any words of advice to offer me since I plan on sticking to this MC for the next few weeks about this drug bust?"

"Yes. Stay away." I say then head to the bathroom to take my shower.