I bite my bottom lip.
“Evie.” He reaches under his dirty mattress, bringing out his six-shooter.
“I want you to stay in your booth tonight. Don’t go wandering around while they’re here. I know Blade is trustworthy but the others I can’t be sure of.” He brings the cancer stick to his pale lips and inhales as if it’s his lover.
Unable to watch him without crying, I stand. “Whatever you want, Daddy. I need to get ready.”
I walk back out to the main room where Marina is straddling Benny. He seems to be fingering her as Pauly the prick watches, his gaze odd and disturbing.
“God.” I pretend I don’t see it or hear it even when her moans get louder.
The hacking and gasps from my dad’s room are what I focus on. I grab a clean top and my bag and run into the bathroom flipping Paul off as I go.
The bathroom light buzzes and the ugly fluorescent glow fills the small space. I dig in the bag, pull out some deodorant, face wash, and face cream. I keep everything with me. You never know who might jack you. After I scrub my face and moisturize it, I slather on some bright pink lip gloss and use my bag as a shield as I walk out hearing Marina’s loud obnoxious groans along with Paul’s sick grunting. I might throw up.
This can’t truly be my life, can it? I wish for the millionth time things were different, starting with my mom dying of an accidental drug overdose when I was twelve. She had sent me to the store for milk. When I got back, I found her staring blankly at the TV.
My dad never got over it. Truthfully none of us did. I mean, how do you move on after that? My dad’s grief was real. And suddenly I was alone. It was like I lost everyone that day. Even Benny… instead of watching TV with me or working in the booth, he was busy trying to find a girlfriend or doing drugs.
“Oh yeah, I’m gonna come, Benny.” Marina’s loud declaration snaps me back to my life.
“For fuck’s sake, do it and shut up,” I shout over her. Wasn’t she complaining about her sex life not two hours ago? I slam the door, thankful I have somewhere to go.
The ground trembles slightly before the loud rumble of bikes fills the air. And I can’t help but hesitate. Maybe if I tie my shoe long enough, I can see these guys. A quick peek wouldn’t hurt anybody. After all, these guys are treated like gods in this area. No man, in my opinion, is that great. But women lose their shit over the MC. So, the president of the Disciples is supposed to be hot? Like superhot, and his vice president and a couple other guys who ride with him are rumored to have giant penises and rock star good looks.
Squinting at the sun, which looks like a big orange ball making its descent, I twist my long hair into a ponytail. This is dumb—I’m late and my dad doesn’t want me around bikers.
I take off and head for my booth, hoping I don’t regret not changing into pants. My daisy dukes are fine right now, but later I might get cold. I usually take a bathroom break and change if that happens. But tonight might be different because of the bikers.
I’m almost ready to open when Pedro walks toward me carrying a Big Gulp, his old darkened face covered mostly by his black cowboy hat. He opens the counter and drags the weathered aluminum chair over, grunting as he plops into it. I frown at the groaning of my chair. His large beer belly hangs out of his red T-shirt.
“Really? I get you tonight?” I say, unable to help but smile. Pedro is ridiculous.
“Yep.” He looks down at his old dusty cowboy boots, takes a sip of his drink, and promptly passes out.
“Fantastic.” I sigh, catching the Big Gulp before it falls. I’d say from the smell of it it’s half rum and half Coke. His loud snoring almost becomes an attraction in itself. It’s busy tonight, so eventually I tune him out and focus on my business. Ninety percent of my customers have sucked at darts. So unlike last night, I haven’t given anything more than a handful of junk and a frog and a bear out. Rolling my neck, I almost grab Pedro’s drink I’m so freaking thirsty. This is stupid. These motorcycle thugs have to be gone. It’s been hours.
I’m about to bring out my “Be back in twenty” sign. I like to lay it on Pedro’s belly.
“Your brother said we can play for free.” I stiffen and feel a tingle start in my belly and travel to my core. I don’t turn around and face the smoky, gravelly voice. Instead I lean over, my hand reaching for my knife. After all, you never can be too safe.