Ridin' Dirty: An Outlaw Author Anthology (OAMC Book 1) (54 page)

I became obsessed with finding out who that man was and I learned his name was H. That was it. Just H.

I knew my type as sure as I knew my own name and H wasn’t it. It sounded cliché to say but he was the strong silent type and by strong I mean every ounce of him was ripped. He stood well over six feet tall with bulging biceps, a wide chest and those little muscles that stuck out over his collar bone. He had to be a body builder or something close because there was no way he was built that way by accident. H was also quiet. I never heard more than a few words come from his mouth. His warm brown eyes told me that he had a kind soul however he didn’t take shit from anybody.

In the past, my type hadn’t been quiet and having a kind soul was something they’d never possessed. Users and abusers didn’t come equipped with that quality. Every time I’d left Jimmy, I wanted so badly to find someone who was good for me. The problem was men my age usually headed for the hills the minute they learned I had two kids.

H worked at the club that much I knew. However, what he actually did was up for debate. Mostly he sat at a table in the corner with various employees. Everyone gathered there to drink, gossip or whatever they felt like usually. Dancers would sit there between sets, kitchen staff and bartenders would hang around before or after their shifts. Sometimes when I came in H would be working security at the door, or filling in behind the bar. Other times he was interviewing applicants and hiring acts, just like he did with me.

He got plenty of attention from the girls and maybe even had involvements with some of them. There was one girl in particular, a pretty blonde who only came in when H was there. She looked like she came from money, with her fancy clothes and expensive shoes. I couldn’t help feeling like she didn’t belong there but a man as attractive as H would, of course, have women all over him, even classy one’s like her. It was none of my business but it didn’t stop me from wondering. I also couldn’t help noticing the way he looked at me, just the same as he did that night and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it.

***

17 days and counting...

I was making my way through the crowd with a drink in one hand and my guitar case strapped on my back, dancing along to the music. Donnie, the actual club owner and a dead ringer for Rick Springfield, had sent me out there earlier to mingle with the customers. While I turned out to not be a lousy singer and could even hold my own with some of their best acts, I was also comfortable talking to customers. Even though I had been hired as a performer he also created a secondary job for me as a hostess on busy nights. This meant between sets, I was to cater to the VIP’s and make sure their drinks were never empty, dance with them, and chat. It sounded worse than it was but at least I got to keep my clothes on. The clients that came to the Jumpstart weren’t the sleazy kind. The club kept a well-established and loyal clientele so I usually had a good time.

I was on the dance floor in mid-twirl when I noticed H staring at me from his table. Normally if I’d gotten that kind of attention from a man he would have already made a move. Was it possible that H was shy? When someone in the crowd came up and placed a hand on my hip, encouraging me to dance with him, I went along. I couldn’t resist giving H my best over the shoulder sultry smile. His eyebrows shot up in surprise then a brief grin spread across his lips, a reaction I took as approval. Feeling encouraged, I continued to keep eye contact with him and began to sway my body to the beat with my faceless dance partner.

I let my free hand roam over my body and through my hair. The appearance of confidence was how I earned attention. The more of it I had, the more money I made. When the music stopped, I side stepped the guy who was doing something that resembled a full body muscle spasm and flashed H another smile before disappearing into the crowd.

Shortly after that, I left the dance floor and headed to the ladies’ room. As I made my way down the corridor, a familiar Hall & Oates song was playing softly through the overhead speakers. My eyes fell closed as I listened to the melody and played the chords in my head. A few moments later, I felt an overwhelming sense of awareness, as if someone was watching me. When I opened my eyes, H was standing at the other end of the hall with his head cocked to the side in part confusion, part amusement.

“Napping?” He asked with a deep chuckle as he stood there with a case of beer in one arm and two bottles of liquor in the other. I couldn’t resist admiring the way his large biceps moved and flexed under the weight of what he was carrying.

Tickled by his question, I laughed, “No, just listening to the song’s melody and figuring out how to play it.”

He nodded again, “You’re good. I have no doubt you’ll be able to.” His unexpected compliment earned a smile from me.

“Thanks.”

“Well, I’d better get this stuff over to Tammy.” He smiled and gestured down to his hands.

“Okay.” I nodded and gave him an awkward wave and disappeared into the ladies’ room. After finishing in the stall, I tidied my unruly blonde curls and applied more lipstick. At least, my makeup was holding up and my head was feeling a little more focused. I stepped into the empty hall, peeked around to see if H was still there. I wasn’t sure why I was looking out for him or whether I was hoping he would be there. Indecisiveness was unfamiliar to me. After seeing the area was clear, I made my way back to the dance floor.

Several songs later, I looked around, breathless and searching the room. I wasn’t even aware I was looking for H until my gaze settled on him. He was casually leaning against the bar top talking to Donnie. Their discussion must have been pretty amusing because both men were laughing. H had the best smile I’d ever seen. It brightened his handsome face and looked a whole lot better than the scowl he wore most of the time.

I felt an incredible pull from his direction and the urge to walk over to him and say, well…something. The more I thought about things I was coming to the conclusion that the reason he hadn’t approached me was because he wasn’t interested. I also couldn’t figure out why his disinterest bothered me so much. I didn’t know what to do with that. They were always interested and it was usually me giving the cold shoulder.

Not able to stand myself and all the doubts in my head, I pushed through the crowd and walked to where I’d last seen H but he was gone. Scanning the area, I found him standing on the other side of the bar, pouring drinks and looking right at me.

“Hi.” He said, looking amused. By the smirk on his face, he knew I was looking for him. Heat rose to my cheeks as I stood there wondering what the hell was going on with me.

“Uh…hey.” I stuttered and shifted my eyes to the bar top.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I was just wondering if you had the time?” I asked, and then mentally kicked myself as we both glanced down at the watch on my wrist. “Oh, um. I think the battery is dying so I wanted to double check.” I replied quickly in an attempt to cover up my bullshit reason for standing there.

“It’s almost ten o’clock.” H said without looking up from his drink mixing. He leaned forward and shoved the glasses to the customer, even amid the smoky atmosphere of the bar, he still smelled amazing. Freshly showered with a warm, earthy scent, like sage.

There was an awkward silence; well it was awkward to me at least. I could feel him staring at me and I had no clue what to say.

“Right, well, I’m going to get ready for my set. See ya.”

“See ya, darlin’.” He replied then added in a low chuckle. “Oh, and thanks for the little dance earlier.” I inwardly groaned and pretended like I hadn’t heard him because, shit, what was I supposed to say? Suddenly I was all tied up in knots and I couldn’t figure out how to untangle myself.

I finished my set that night with Johnny Cash’s ‘
Ring of Fire
’, a crowd favorite as well as mine. It also seemed fitting for my mood, I didn’t know it then but something much hotter was brewing.

16 days and counting...

As had grown to be the routine, Donnie signaled for me to make my rounds, greeting the VIP customers, mostly businessmen and local celebrities. Though my job wasn’t to dance, it was hard not to, as an artist music appreciation was a given. I rocked my hips from side to side, moving through the crowded room and cringing at the occasional pats on my ass or hands groping my chest. I learned from Tammy to turn around and ask, “You gotta tip for that pat, sugar?” Most of the time the poor sucker handed over a few bucks and that was the end of it.

“Tip? Why the fuck should I tip you?” The customer slurred and stared at my outstretched hand with confusion.

“When the dancers are on the stage, you tip ‘em. The bartenders make you drinks and you tip them, too. You just smacked my ass and I’m lettin’ you know that privilege ain’t free.”

“Honey, you better jiggle it a little harder then.” Drunk guy stuck a dollar bill between his teeth then placed a hand on either side of my hips as he tried to shake me back and forth. Before I could say anything the man was gone. I turned around to see H pinning the drunk guy’s arms behind his back and frog-marching him to the door. A few minutes later he returned to the bar and asked me, “You alright, Annette?”

The seriousness in his expression caught me off guard. He wasn’t asking out of courtesy. He seemed to genuinely care. What made the whole exchange stunning to me was that not many people looked at me that way.

“Yeah, I’m fine, H.” I nodded giving him a small smile. He returned the nod then strode past me and into the kitchen. The metal doors swung in his wake while the scent of his cologne lingered behind.

***

8 days and counting…

I pulled the last dollar from the envelope Donnie handed me for tonight’s earnings, counted the bills, and stuffed my portion, two hundred and eleven dollars, into my purse.

Not bad for a Friday night.

I was almost to my goal and I knew I would make at least another five hundred over the next few days. I’d found a little place just outside the city limits that would make a perfect home for us. I already had the deposit money to give the owner on Monday morning, then a week to get the place furnished and ready for the boys. I hated that I was away from them but being so close to my goal eased some of the ache in my heart. It wouldn’t be long now.

After saying goodnight to everyone, I left the Jumpstart and walked the three blocks to the motel I’d been living in. I couldn’t afford to spend money on gas so my car hadn’t moved in the weeks since I’d checked in. Not even to visit the boys. It was too hard to see them and not be able to take them with me. I also couldn’t handle the questions and the agony of saying goodbye to them—again. While a month may seem like a short amount of time, to me it felt like an eternity.

Zipping up my denim jacket, I wrapped the long strap of my purse around my shoulder and started the trek. This was a lower class area of the city and probably wasn’t the safest place to be walking late at night but I always kept my head down and moved at a fast pace. Nobody ever bothered me and I was grateful for that.

The streets were mostly vacant with just a couple of gas stations, some abandoned buildings and a worn out looking dry cleaning business on one corner. There was a twenty-four-hour diner across from the motel where I sometimes stopped to grab a bite after work. The little diner had charming fifties-style theme and reminded me of home. Haventown had always been a few decades behind in the times.

After climbing the stairs to my room on the second floor, I unlocked the door, threw my bag on the bed and headed directly for the shower. After washing the daily grime and liquor smell away, I felt more relaxed. It was exhausting to be “on” all the time. Being chatty and flirty was my job but after a busy Friday night, I couldn’t care if I ever spoke another word again.

I went to the air-conditioning unit by the window, unscrewed the vent cover, then grabbed the envelope where I’d been keeping all of my saved money. Picking up my bag, I dug around for the night’s tips. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed several bills scattered across the floor. Confused, I inspected my purse and discovered a three-inch-long split in the seam. Panic set in as I gathered all the money from the bottom of the bag. After counting it several times then dumping everything out onto the floor, I sat back on my knees trying to process it all. Only seventy-two dollars of my two hundred and eleven was left.

Desperately, I jumped up and ran outside, barefoot and wearing a thin, oversized t-shirt that just reached my knees. I scanned the area like a hawk for any sign of my money but it was too dark to see. The pathetic lights in front of the motel didn’t help for shit.

I jogged a little further down the road and saw a few five dollar bills blowing in the wind. I quickly grabbed them and walked a little further. It wasn’t until I could see a group of guys standing at the end of the street did I stop.  That is when I realized I was alone outside in only a t-shirt in a terrible part of town at three o’clock in the morning.

“Hey!” Someone shouted from the group, and a few others began to whistle. Quickly, I turned around and went as fast as my feet would carry me without full on running. The motel overnight clerk stepped from the office just as I was scurrying by.

“Annette?” he called out. “Are you okay?” Joe had always been nice to me, a bit shifty looking, but nice. I turned around and saw the genuine concern on his face.

“Y-yeah, I-I’m okay.” I croaked, suddenly aware of the tears streaming down my face and soaking the collar of my t-shirt.

“You sure? You don’t look like you are. Can I help?”

I knew I wouldn’t be able to find all of that money and Joe couldn’t do anything to help me. So instead, I shook my head, “No, but thank you.” Then made my way up the stairs, holding the sobs in until I was inside my room with the door securely locked behind me.

The worst part is that I knew the damn seam was coming loose and I was too cheap to spend the money on a new purse or, at least, a sewing kit to mend it. Stupid. I didn’t know why I never followed common sense sometimes. It would have saved me so much heartache and tears.

Now what the hell was I going to do? The money I’d made over the past three weeks went mostly to the motel bill and sending Mama something each week to help care for the boys. Before I could bring them with me I needed to buy basic furniture like beds, and make sure there was food in the cabinets. Until tonight, I was on track to do all of that.

The realization that I only had a week to come up with nine hundred dollars made my heart sink. Five hundred was attainable, even seven hundred if I busted my butt, but not nine. Sometimes I wondered if Mama was right. Am I going to be able to care for my kids? Hell, I couldn’t even be bothered to sew up a hole that would’ve kept my money safe. How in the world was I going to look after me and them—alone?

I fell asleep that night full of worry and self-doubt. I knew I was strong but even the mightiest of spirits had moments of weakness.