The VP
1707 Words
(Mira)
The next day started like any other. I woke up, showered in the tiny bathroom, and got dressed for my shift. My phone stayed off. I wasn't ready to deal with whatever messages Tyler had left overnight.
Downstairs, Hank was restocking the bar. He nodded at me when I walked in.
"Morning," he said. "You good to open today? I've got a supplier meeting at noon."
"Yeah, I can handle it."
"Good. Dane's stopping by around eleven. He wants to talk to you."
I paused. "The VP? Why?"
"Didn't say. But when Dane wants to talk, you listen." Hank went back to his inventory. "Don't worry about it. He's not like the others. Quiet, but fair."
I tried not to worry about it. Failed completely.
The morning shift was quiet. A few regulars came in for lunch. I served them, cleaned tables, and kept checking the clock. At exactly eleven, the door opened and Dane walked in.
He was bigger up close than he'd seemed last night. Tall, built like he could break someone in half without trying. He had dark eyes that didn't miss anything and a scar running down his left forearm.
"Mira," he said, sitting at the bar.
"Dane." I grabbed a glass. "Beer?"
"Coffee. Black."
I poured him a cup and set it down. He took a sip, watching me the whole time.
"You settling in okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. Everyone's been good to me."
"That's because Ridge said you're under his protection. You know what that means?"
I shook my head.
"It means nobody in this club touches you. Nobody disrespects you. Nobody gives you trouble." He set down his cup. "It also means if you've got problems, they become club problems."
My stomach turned. "I don't want to be anyone's problem."
"Too late. You're already Ridge's." Dane leaned back. "I've known Ridge since he was a kid. His dad and I go way back. When Ridge took over as president three years ago, he made it clear he was running things different. Smarter. No unnecessary risks. No drama."
"Okay."
"You're drama, Mira."
I stiffened. "I didn't ask to be."
"I know. That's the only reason I'm here talking instead of telling Ridge to send you on your way." He picked up his coffee again. "Cassidy likes you. Says you've got backbone. And Ridge doesn't help people unless there's a reason. So I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt."
"I appreciate that."
"Don't appreciate it yet. I need to know what we're dealing with. You running from the law?"
"No."
"You got debts? Drug problem? Crazy family?"
"No."
"Then what?"
I could lie. I could tell him it was nothing. But Dane didn't look like the kind of man who'd believe a lie even if I told it well.
"An ex," I said finally. "He's looking for me."
"He dangerous?"
"Yes."
Dane studied me for a long moment. "He put those bruises on you?"
I didn't know what he was talking about until I realized he meant the faint yellow marks still visible on my wrist. I'd thought they'd faded enough that nobody would notice. I was wrong.
"Yeah," I said.
"He know where you are?"
"Not yet. But he's trying to find out."
"Does Ridge know about this?"
"Some of it."
"Some?"
"He knows I'm running. He doesn't know the details."
Dane nodded. "You planning on telling him?"
"I don't know."
"Well, figure it out. Because if this ex shows up in Crosswell, it's going to get messy. And Ridge doesn't handle messy well when it comes to people he cares about."
"He doesn't care about me. He's just being nice."
Dane almost smiled. Almost. "If that's what you think, you're not paying attention."
He stood up, pulled out his wallet, and dropped a twenty on the bar.
"Keep the change," he said. "And Mira? Whatever you decide, decide fast. Waiting only makes things worse."
He left before I could respond.
I stood there staring at the twenty dollar bill, thinking about what he'd said. Ridge doesn't handle messy well when it comes to people he cares about.
Did Ridge care about me? Or was I just another problem he'd decided to fix?
The lunch crowd started to pick up. I pushed the thoughts away and got back to work. A couple came in and sat at a booth near the window. I brought them menus and took their drink orders. Two beers.
When I came back with the beers, the woman smiled at me.
"You're new," she said. "I'm Beth. This is my husband, Tom."
"Mira."
"Nice to meet you. How are you liking Crosswell?"
"It's good. Quiet."
"That's one word for it," Tom said, laughing. "Small is another. Everyone knows everyone's business around here."
"Tom," Beth said, elbowing him.
"What? It's true. Give it another week and the whole town will know your life story."
I forced a smile. "Good to know."
I took their food order and headed back to the bar. The idea of everyone knowing my business made my skin crawl. What if someone mentioned me to the wrong person? What if word got back to Tyler somehow?
I was being paranoid. Tyler didn't know anyone in Crosswell. He had no reason to look here.
But he was looking somewhere. And he wasn't going to stop.
Hank came back from his meeting around one. He looked at the twenty still sitting on the bar.
"Dane leave that?"
"Yeah."
"He talk to you?"
"Yeah."
Hank waited, but I didn't offer more details. He nodded like he understood.
"He's a good man," Hank said. "Tough, but fair. If he's asking questions, it's because he's looking out for the club. And for Ridge."
"I know."
"You gonna tell Ridge what's going on?"
I looked at him. "Does everyone know I'm hiding something?"
"Don't take much to figure out. Girl shows up with nothing but a backpack, scared of her own shadow, won't talk about where she came from." Hank shrugged. "We've all seen it before. Question is, are you gonna trust us to help, or are you gonna run when things get hard?"
"I don't know yet."
"Fair enough. Just don't wait too long to decide."
He went into the back office. I wiped down the bar and tried to think.
Maybe Dane was right. Maybe I needed to tell Ridge everything. But what if telling him made things worse? What if the club decided I was too much trouble and asked me to leave?
Where would I go then?
A guy walked in and sat at the bar. Young, maybe mid twenties, wearing a leather vest with a different patch than the Devil's Reach members.
"What can I get you?" I asked.
"Beer. Whatever's cold."
I grabbed a bottle and set it in front of him. He paid, tipped decent, and started drinking.
Everything was fine until he called me over again.
"Hey, sweetheart," he said. "You new here?"
"Sort of."
"Thought so. I'd remember a face like yours." He grinned. "You got a boyfriend?"
"Not looking for one."
"Didn't ask if you were looking. Asked if you had one."
"The answer's still no to whatever you're about to ask." I picked up an empty glass from the bar and started to walk away.
He reached out and grabbed my wrist. Not hard, but enough to stop me.
"Come on, don't be like that. I'm just trying to be friendly."
I looked down at his hand on my wrist, then back at his face. "Let go."
"Or what?"
"Or I'll make you let go."
He laughed like I'd told a joke. "You're feisty. I like that."
I twisted my wrist out of his grip and stepped back. "You need to leave."
"I just got here."
"And now you're leaving. Finish your beer and go."
His smile disappeared. "Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?"
"The person who decides whether you're welcome here or not." I crossed my arms. "And you're not."
He stood up, getting in my space. "You know who I ride with?"
"Don't care. This isn't your club's bar. It's ours. And I'm telling you to leave."
For a second, I thought he might actually try something. But then Hank's office door opened and Hank walked out, saw what was happening, and headed our way.
The guy looked at Hank, then back at me.
"This isn't over," he said.
"Yeah, it is."
He threw some cash on the bar and left.
My hands were shaking, but I didn't let it show until he was gone. Then I let out a breath and picked up his empty bottle.
"You okay?" Hank asked.
"Yeah. Just another asshole who doesn't know how to take no for an answer."
"You handled that good. But next time, call me before it gets that far."
"I had it under control."
"I know. Just call me anyway."
I nodded and went back to work.
About thirty minutes later, Ridge walked through the door. It was only three in the afternoon. He never came this early.
"Hey," I said. "You're here early."
"Finished my meetings early." He sat at the bar. "Dane said he stopped by."
"He did."
"He give you a hard time?"
"No. He was just asking questions."
Ridge watched me. "What kind of questions?"
"About why I'm here. What I'm running from."
"What did you tell him?"
"The truth. Mostly."
"Mostly?"
I didn't answer. Ridge leaned forward.
"Mira, if there's something I need to know, tell me now."
I wanted to. The words were right there. But I couldn't make myself say them.
"It's nothing I can't handle," I said.
He didn't look convinced, but he didn't push. "All right. But if that changes, you come to me. Understood?"
"Understood."
He ordered his usual and settled into his seat. I brought him his food and went back to work, feeling his eyes on me the whole time.
I kept thinking about what Dane had said. What Hank had said. What Ridge kept saying.
They all wanted me to trust them. To let them help.
But trusting people had gotten me hurt before. And I wasn't sure I was ready to risk it again.
Not yet.
- Writer
