Own Me

2. Barker-1

Barker“Ainsley Palakiko…” I whisper to myself as I watch Biggs hover over the girl with the knife in his hands. I’ve watched him do this a thousand times before. I wasn’t about to see anything different now. Still, her name was stuck to my lips. “Ainsley Palakiko?”

“What the f**k are you muttering over there, Barker?” Biggs looks at me as if I’ve lost my damn mind. Maybe I have. My business isn’t about saving anyone’s life here. But that girl in her innocent little jean skirt and her perky little t**s looks more significant than the usual character sitting in that metal folding chair.

And then, like lightning, it dawns on me.

I stand up and charge over towards them, both staring at me with piercing eyes. I kneel before the girl, gazing directly into her eyes. “You said you robbed Vice. How the f**k did you pull that off, lady?”

Biggs’ squinty eyes peer down at me before releasing the blade against her throat.

She coughs, a strange impulse you get when you think you’re about to be slit from ear to ear, and sits up a little straighter. She purses her ruby red lips together before smirking. “I don’t give away my secrets.” She pauses, her arms struggling to shrug while being bound. “I know how to get what I want. I am very good at what I do.”

Thinking back to the first time I heard her name, it was when Crazy Ezra was talking about this lady who was daring to approach men at the hotels outside Cheyenne and Fort Collins.

“Word is that you seduce rich men at bars. You play the w***e and take their money before they even get their pants down. You’re out of there so fast that no one can catch you.”

“Then you have heard of me,” Ainsley replies. “It’s good to know that word gets around. Though I guess I’d rather be anonymous with my line of work.”

“Who the f**k cares?” Biggs cuts in. He was always a lug of a guy who couldn’t see past the words on the page. He leans back on the table, the knife still wrapped in his fingers. In addition to being nutty, he’s not known for his patience.

“I think we should care, boss.” I stand up and join Biggs at his place. It’s a maneuver I’ve used with him ever since I joined the Gravediggers. It’s a sign of respect to join a man at his place. So I stand beside him as I offer up a solution that could benefit the club. “We both know that this chick is hot. She’d score a good price if we pimped her. Tan, good rack, lean legs—she’d be our top moneymaker. We talked about getting more into the business if we stayed in town or moved closer to Denver.”

“You don’t think that would actually work, do you? You boys can’t be that stupid.” Ainsley leans her head over to look at us. Her long, brown hair floats down the back of the metal chair where dried blood has stained the rust.

“Shut the f**k up, girl.” Biggs reaches over and smacks the back of the chair with the boot, so she flies forward. The chair falls to the ground with a loud metallic crash.

She rolls her face to the side in defiance, staring us down with those steely green orbs of hers.

“She wouldn’t be good for s**t in bed. It’ll take the whole club to break her in.”

“We could do that,” I say as I try to hide my annoyance. “But then again, she might be of better use to us. At the last meeting, we were talking about the NARCO division being on our back and our police contacts falling through. If that’s true, the Feds will be on us any day now, and we’ll be on the move. We’re going to need money for that—more than just the pawnshop deal netted us in petty cash.”

“So, what are you suggesting, Barker? How the f**k is this b***h supposed to help us?”

“We let her do her thing. We put her to work doing jobs with the other clubs in town. We know that the Firestorm Riders and the Eastside Boys are doing hits on businesses this week, and we’ve got Intel on a few others—when and where they do their deposit drops. We send her out and make her earn her keep.”

Ainsley suddenly laughs as she shifts around on the floor, clearly uncomfortable. “You think I’m going to go to work for you? You gotta be kidding me! I’m an independent contractor here. You can’t buy me.”

I squat down beside her, my face only inches from hers. “You’ll work for us because it’s the only thing keeping you from being put out on the streets with our brand on your backside or that knife dug straight through that skinny little neck of yours. Do I make myself clear?”

While she digs daggers into my chest with her eyes, I spin the chair back upright so that she faces Biggs and myself.

“And what if she f***s up? She’ll get us in trouble with another club, and we’re not ready to deal with an ambush. There’s a reason why we’re not settled in. And how do we know she isn’t already working for Vice or Diego or any of those other suckers looking to move in on us? This could all be part of the plan—send a leggy chick with a death wish to get caught so she can bring back info on us.”

Biggs’ has a point. While he may not be great at the big picture stuff, he knows his risk management. He always seemed to be one step ahead of the impending doom, always alert for signs of someone watching or following us, and always ready to make a move when we needed to get on the road. It wasn’t the best way to run a solid, established club. But for nomads like the Gravediggers, it kept us alive against all the odds.

“If she f***s up,” I say, my back turned to the girl, “then she dies. We don’t go in and save her. She’s just a casualty, and we go about our plans like usual. If anyone asks, we can be honest and say she tried to pull the same s**t with us and she managed to escape. Done.”

“Fine. But if she’s a spy, you’re going to be damn well responsible for it, Barker.”

“What the hell does that mean? I wasn’t the one that let her stiff me out of a diamond necklace. She’s not my responsibility. I don’t babysit.”

“Good!” Ainsley chimes in with that smug little voice of hers. “We’re in agreement. I don’t need one either because I’m not working for you.”

I turn back towards her and roar with frustration, “You will f*****g do what the hell we tell you to do! Do you understand me?”

Biggs is back on his feet as well, the knife out and ready. She slithers back into her chair, her head bowed again.

Biggs spins, holding that knife up to me now. “This is your idea, Barker, and you’re going to be the one that watches her and makes sure she doesn’t pull any stupid shit.” I don’t have time to protest before he adds, “You’re off enforcer duty. Henry can pick that up for you. Starting tomorrow, you and this chick are making some money for the club.”

I don’t even bother to argue again. Biggs’ words are the law around here, and I’m not in a good enough standing as it is to play the fool. The only reason why I’ve got the enforcer title is because the man I was an apprentice to ended up in the hospital with a broken neck after a skid on a patch of black ice. I wouldn’t have gotten promoted with my loose lips and tendency to not always follow the rules.

And for his part, Biggs doesn’t repeat it either. He snaps his fingers and his guy, Louie, who has been a ghost up against the back wall until this point, opens the door for him as he strides out.

Just like that, and I’m left with my ward in an icy silence that’s almost as horrible as her dead stare.

“Can you at least untie me?” Ainsley moves her leg slightly so that it kicks up against the tied rope.

I groan before slinking down in front of her. Neither fast nor slow, I untie the binds while willing myself not to say anything about the old, pink scars around her knees and thighs or the green bruises dotting her arms. They disappear out of my sight as she shakes her muscles out.

“If I’m supposed to stay here,” she says, “can you at least get me a blanket and some supplies?”

“I’m not your slave,” I bark. “You can live without a blanket and a toothbrush for the night.”

“So I’m supposed to just sit in here until tomorrow when you force me out on the streets to rob one of your rivals? How the hell is that meant to work?”

“It’s going to work because if it doesn’t, you’re going to kill us both. So I suggest you turn off the damn lights and go to bed.”

“On the floor? Here? I don’t even get a real room?”

She continues to protest as I walk off, turning off the light switch for her. The door shuts behind me, and I use the long chain I’ve used in the past to keep men in and out to lock her in. As I walk away, I hear her fists banging up against the glass windows as she screams.

“Hey! Barker! You can’t f*****g leave me here! BARKER!”