Hard Rider

Hey, Doll, it’s Clyde.

Listen… heard about all that fuss last night, and I’m sorry to hear that you wound up in a little trouble. Happy to say that it’s all been taken care of.

I can’t have this kind of thing happening in my restaurant. I won’t be needing you to come in again.

If I’m not being clear, you’re fired.

Don’t bother trying to use me as a reference in the future.

“Well, at least that’s not a fucking surprise,” I groaned as I sat back in bed. “That place was a piece of shit anyway… Good riddance to that asshole and his stuck-up crew of waitresses.”

“I’m sorry that you lost your job,” Grizz spoke as reassuringly as he could manage. “Maybe if I hadn’t shown up…”

“Don’t be stupid,” I muttered. “If you hadn’t been there, it could have been worse. I’m still trying to figure things out with you, but I can’t ignore that you fought off a bunch of fucking thugs for me.”

He quietly smiled, but the grin was gone as quickly as it had shown up.

“The timing sucks, though,” I complained. “I’m already behind on rent as it is, and the fridge needs some groceries soon…”

“What if I help?” Grizz offered.

I looked at him like he’d lost his goddamn mind, which he must have if he thought I was going to become a charity case anytime soon.

“I can handle my own shit, Grizz. Just like I had to before, after you left.”

Grizz looked hurt, but he didn’t contest the point.

“Well,” he thought aloud, “I can start by making things as easy as possible on you. What if I treat you to lunch later?”

“You already cooked me breakfast in bed,” I waved to the empty plates. “You don’t have to be so goddamn heavy-handed. I’ll just find something else to do. Lafayette’s not small even by Louisiana standards. There’s work to be had here.”

“Will you be happy?” He asked.

I didn’t have an answer for that.

“Not going to get my last check if I don’t turn my work uniforms in,” I muttered. “Might want to go ahead and do that part and just get it out of the way.”

“The checks a waitress gets are zeroed out from the tips,” Grizz said. “Even if there’s a few dollars left, they’ll just subtract off damages from the fight. You’ll never see another dime from that place.”

“And when exactly did you become an expert on the food industry?” I asked.

“Our headquarters are a bar out in El Paso. I used to keep the books straight and managed the place when the boss was away. I’ve signed enough paychecks to know how things work.”

“You managed a bar? That doesn’t sound like the Grizz I know.”

He smiled knowingly. “Doesn’t it?”

“I… guess I don’t know.”

“There is plenty that you do not know, Kate,” Grizz smiled as he rose from the bed, taking our dishes. “But you will, soon enough…”

“Yeah?” I asked. “Aren’t you leaving?”

Grizz paused, reflecting on that. “Yes,” he answered, before repeating: “Soon enough.”

He turned away, leaving the room with his arms full of plates. While I heard the kitchen faucet run from the other room, I wondered what he meant by that…

And why I found myself smiling.

Grizz

Kate and I were working in a gray area. An unspoken quiet fell over us while we rode around town for a few hours. While she ran a couple of errands, I stood out by the bike, my arms firmly crossed.

Louisiana was rarely anything close to “cold”, but there was a surprising crispness to the air.

I was enjoying the fresh autumn sun as Kate wandered outside from her local bank. As she approached, I noted that her head was shaking with irritation and grief.

“Energy bill was high last month,” she groaned. “This fucking cold snap could have come, you know, a little earlier.”

“September’s usually a bit warmer I take it?”

She flashed me a glance. “It’s Louisiana. The only two goddamn seasons this place gets are Sweaty Summer and Christmas.”

I chuckled, but she didn’t care that the joke landed. “I’m down to the skin of my fucking teeth, Grizz. Never gonna make rent like this.”

“You’ll find a way,” I told her. “You were resourceful back in the day. I’m sure you haven’t lost your edge.”

“Maybe,” she groaned. “Wanna grab a bite?”

“Sure,” I nodded, helping her onto the back of my motorcycle. “Let’s get lunch.”

We settled on another diner in town. Over our toasted club sandwiches and chips, I was hoping to avoid more questions about my past.

That could wait.

“So, you said you guys did your biker shit out of a bar?” Kate asked, ignoring my hopes as she took another bite. “Tell me about this place.”

I turned away. “It was a temporary gift from a client we protected. She’s back in town, and we all knew it wouldn’t last forever. It’s only right we give the place back to her, and besides, there’s nobody out there looking for protection these days.”

“Wait, isn’t that good?”

“It’s bad for business,” I curtly smiled. “We did our job too damn well and there’s no bad guys left to protect people from. Criminals aren’t stupid. When word got out that the Devil’s Dragons were shining the light on the filth, the roaches scattered and got the hell out of our kitchen. Must have made one hell of an impression, because even here, our reputation precedes us.”

“You mean how Mark recognized your club?” she asked

“Like I said, we haven’t done business this far out before. It makes me wonder if it will be easier to find leads in New Orleans… or harder.”

“What exactly did you guys do?” Kate demanded, forcing my gaze to meet hers with the insistence in her voice. “Why does he know who you are, and why are you so surprised?”

I chewed on my words.

“That biker gang he’s joined,” I started to ask. “Who were they again, the Bayou Boys?”

She nodded agreement.

“Never heard of them. Far as I’m aware, we haven’t come across their club during our little adventures… But it’s not impossible that the things we’ve been up to have made their way out here. Particularly if they have anything to do with the arms dealer we took down…”

“Arms dealer?” She lifted an eyebrow.

She thought she was being coy, but I had been watching her carefully. Kate’s face had been growing flush during the conversation, and I could pick up on all those little signs…

Kate was an open book when we were teenagers. I knew all of her tells, and exactly when she was turned on.

Listening to me, trying to not stare at me… I knew that she was turned on.

So was I.

It was true. I still carried a torch for her, after all this time. I’d lost a lot of sleep at night, thinking of the days long past… and just being near her fucking did something to me all over again.

If only I can get her into my arms again…

“Arms dealer?” She repeated, lifting an eyebrow as she started to realize that this sexual frustration between us was a two-way street.

I opened my mouth to answer, but the waiter brought the check by. Glancing around, he quietly lowered himself down.

“Kate, right?”

“Yeah,” she replied cautiously.

“I used to wash dishes at Waffle Shack…” he said, but his face made it clear this wasn’t just some kid catching up with a long lost co-worker. I looked to Kate and saw a small spark of recognition.

“There’s someone looking around for you,” he told her. “You didn’t hear it from me… but they were in here first thing asking if you’d put in a job application. They said you might be with someone… Dangerous…”

He glanced up at me, trying to square his shoulders and look tougher than he was.

“Do you need my help?”

It was at this point I noticed the steak knife he was holding with a white knuckle death grip. I’d already had enough fucking knife fights in this shithole town, and I wasn’t about to take down a goddamned kid. Even so, my hand instinctively gripped the edge of the heavy table, ready to toss the thing into his face if he made a wrong move.

“He’s with me, and he’s not dangerous,” Kate said calmly. “But thank you…”

I slapped a few bills against the check and pushed it to the center of the table. “We appreciate the warning. Keep the change.”

The waiter nodded and quickly left us, having successfully completely fucked up the atmosphere. I put Kate on the back of her bike before mounting and heading off.

We headed straight for her home.

While I hung back as a lookout, she quickly unlocked the door. I followed her inside, walking into complete and utter chaos.

Furniture lay upended.

Books were torn and scattered.

Broken dishes lay across the floor.

It looked like we’d just missed the human typhoon that ran though this place. The same typhoon that was in town looking for us now…

“Mark,” Kate muttered in defeat. “Mark did this. Him and those meatheads he brings along wherever he goes.”

“Yes,” I agreed, lifting a broken plate to mindlessly examine it.

I wasn’t sure what to do.