CULVER: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel (10 page)

“I guess,” she said.

“Um, no, morons. What do you think your parents will
think if they see a ladder on the side of the house reaching up to your window?
You did lock your door before coming down, right? They’re supposed to think
you’re sleeping,” Becky said, rolling her eyes. I bit my lip and shook my head.

“I didn’t really think to do that…” I said. “You guys
kind of totally surprised me, you know.”

“Okay, okay, fair enough. Alright, one of you hold the
bottom for me,” Becky said with a groan. She started climbing up; Becky had
never been afraid of heights. Becky was afraid of a lot of things: getting
arrested, dying alone, being mugged in an alley, failing her classes…but, when
it came down to it, Becky could be downright courageous when the situation
called for it. Alicia and I watched her climb up the ladder quickly and slip
through my still-open window.

“You guys know that you’re total psychos, right?” I
asked, turning to Alicia, who gave me a wicked grin in return.

“Um, no, we’re you’re best friends,” she said. “You’re
the psycho. We’re just playing along because that’s what good friends we are.”
I punched her, playfully, on the shoulder, but wrapped her in a hug right
after. We swayed in the embrace, both knowing that I would do the same for her
if the situation called for it.

“Okay, okay, I’d be jealous but we have miles to make,
ladies, let’s go,” Becky said, hopping off the ladder. “Your door is locked,
your parents never have to know you’re gone. Now help me hide this ladder.”

We hid the ladder in a far corner of our property, and
in the darkness it was really hidden. Becky had driven over in her little Saab
so we piled in, me in front and Alicia in the back.

“Cord,” Alicia said, thrusting her hand through the
seats.

“No way, you don’t get to pick the soundtrack,” Becky
scoffed.

“Um, I’m sitting in the backseat and NOT complaining
about it, so, please, cord,” Alicia repeated, making a grabbing motion with her
hands. Becky sighed and passed back the cord that attached to the car’s stereo.
It all reminded me of how we’d been right before leaving for Vegas: excited,
happy, so totally unaware of what the future awaited us. I guess, in
retrospect, this was a little like a road trip, too: it wasn’t nearly as long,
but I definitely wasn’t going to come back the same girl I went in.

“This one is for all the star-crossed lovers out
there, and to all the ships at sea,” Alicia said in a mock-grandiose tone. I
groaned as the song started playing. It was Dolly Parton, “Touch Your Woman.”

“Really, Alicia? Could you get a little more obvious?”
I asked, turning back to her. She shrugged, a grin on her face.

“You guys! Stop teasing me! You know I’m a sucker for
this stuff,” she said.

“What’s the address?” Becky asked, all business. I
read the address from the cover of the matchbook and watched as she plugged it
into the GPS. It was outside the city, on the entirely other side. It was about
a 45 minute drive.

“Off like a herd of turtles,” Alicia said from the
backseat. And so we were.

~
19
~

It wasn’t necessarily easy getting the night clerk at
the motel to give us Boon’s room number, but it also wasn’t as difficult as it
should have been. I guess three young, beautiful girls have some sort of power
over elderly, overweight night clerks at sleazy highway motels. He wrote the
number down and slipped it across the counter, begging me not to do anything
that would make him regret it.

We drove around the motel, twice, before parking near
his room. We went around twice, mainly, to give me time to stop panicking. He
hadn’t answered my text; I’d tried to call him again on the road, but his phone
went straight to voicemail again. I was a total wreck.

My hand was shaking as I raised it in a fist and
knocked on the door. The do-not-disturb sign swung on the handle. Somehow, the
solid sound of my fist against the door calmed me down: it brought me back to
the present, to reality, away from all the dangerous places my mind was trying
to take me.

“Fuck outta here,” Boon called from the other side of
the door. He sounded like he’d been drinking. I knocked again. There was a
crash, the sound of angry footsteps, and then the door swung open violently.

“WHAT?” He screamed into my face. I flinched, bumping
into Becky and Alicia behind me. I think some of his spit flew into my eye. As
soon as he saw me, he drew back.

“Shit,” he muttered, not quite under his breath. He
swayed as he stood, holding the door open. He looked bad. Well, that’s a lie,
he looked hot as hell in his ripped t-shirt and tight jeans. But he looked
rather unhappy. And definitely drunk. I could smell whiskey on his breath, and
peering behind him I saw a bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on the floor beside
the bed.

“I suppose y’all want to come in,” he said, slurring
slightly. I was more than a little taken aback by this greeting; I understood
he wasn’t expecting me, and I understood him screaming “what” in my face, but
I’d hoped, after that, he’d warm up. At least seem…excited? Maybe this
forbidden trip would be worth something, after all, even if it only proved he
really was a jerk who didn’t deserve my time.

“That’d be nice,” I said pointedly.

“It’d be nicer if you were happy about it. C’mon, man,
we went to a lot of trouble to get your girl here!” Alicia blurt out from
behind me. I could have killed her. Boon’s eyebrows raised.

“My girl?” he spoke the words slowly, looking me over,
a change coming over him, softening his features. “I wish.”

The sadness in those last words…I could never describe
it. It broke my heart. Even Becky looked like she felt the weight. Boon stepped
aside and we filed in. There was a single chair across from the bed, and I took
it without invitation. Boon half-stumbled to the bed, sitting down like he was
carrying forty pounds on his back. He reached down for the Jack Daniels, took a
slug, handed it out to me. Impulsively, inspired by my growing anxiety, I took
a swill, coughing it down. I put it down on the floor, out of his reach.

Being in that room, though it was a far cry from the
hotel he’d taken me to in Vegas, brought back a rush of passionate memories, of
yearning that I’d buried. Just being close to him, even in his drunken state,
made my heart beat quicken. His blue eyes drifted over me, my own longing
reflected in them.

“How did you find me, Boon?” I asked, not sure where
to start. I figured that was as good a place as any. “And why?”

“Your phone number. Sheriff’s daughter. I have high
friends in places,” he said with a mirthless chuckle.

“But why?” I pressed, not wanting to let the budding
conversation lapse into half-hearted jokes. This was serious. This was my
life.

“Why? Why, why, why. You tell me. Aren’t you just
another girl? Isn’t there nothing special about you at all? That’s what I keep
thinking. That’s what I keep trying to think. It’s not working,” he said,
rubbing his eyes with open hands, scowling.

“Guys,” I said, turning to the girls. I raised my
eyebrows and motioned towards the door. Things were going to get even more
serious than they already were, and I assumed Boon didn’t want an audience.

“No way. I’m sorry, but no way. I’m not going to be
sitting outside in the car while…while who knows what goes on in here. Now, we
brought you here, and you’re our responsibility,” Becky said, puffing herself
up like a momma bear. I was embarrassed but knew there was no use in arguing.

“Anything you can say to me you can say to them,
Boon.” It was true, anyway; even if he swore me to secrecy, Becky and Alicia
would probably manage to get it out of me, anyway.

Boon looked doubtful, withdrawn. I turned back to the
girls.

“Sit down, will you? Jesus, you’re like cops standing
behind me like that,” I said. Becky grunted and uncrossed her arms. They both
looked around the room; there actually wasn’t any place for them to sit. I was
in the only chair, Boon on the bed.

“Come on, Papa Smurf,” Alicia said, plopping onto the
carpet and pulling Becky down with her. “Comfy cozy,” Alicia said with a giggle
that was far from appropriate considering the situation.

“Please, Boon. I came here to listen to your side of
the story,” I said, turning back to him. He still looked distrustful, on edge.
I wished that the girls would leave but knew it would take a hurricane to move
them: Alicia wouldn’t leave because she loved drama, Becky wouldn’t leave
because she was basically a walking, talking ball of worry.

“First, tell me,” Boon said with a sigh. “What did
your father tell you?”

“He told me about the cop, Giordino. About your mother
and father…that he thought your father killed him. About the business your
father was doing in town. About the murders,” I said, glazing over the details.

“That cop was crooked, Samantha,” Boon said, looking
up at me, his eyes belying a desperation for me to believe him. “He was helping
my father, covering his tracks, for a cut of the profits. And it was all
profit, Samantha. He was getting loaded off our dirty business. My dad’s dirty
business.” I noticed how quick he was to push the blame onto his father.

“I was just a kid. I didn’t know what was happening. I
mean, I knew, I knew what we were doing, whatever it was, was wrong. I knew we
were basically in hiding. I knew my mother was afraid. I knew my father didn’t
give a shit about my mother.

I remember when the cop came knocking on the door.
Giordino slamming that door like he wanted to break it down. My father wasn’t
there, was getting ice in the lobby. My mother was so afraid; there was almost
nothing left of her at that point, just a bundle of fear and anxiety. That was
all she was. The drugs my father pumped into her left her that way. She opened
the door. He barged in, gun out, screaming for my father.

I don’t know what he wanted. Probably more money
before the operation shut down. I hid in the closet. I watched through the
door. He pushed her, he pushed my mother. And all she was doing…she was trying
to get to the money, a stash we kept in the room, in the bible. I saw her
trying to get to it.

And then he shot her. He shot my mother. Right in
front of my face, Samantha, right there, I thought I’d never hear anything
again, the sound was so
loud,
and she
just…she smiled. She
smiled,
and the
blood started coming out but she was
smiling
and I thought she’d be okay, I thought, she stood up, even,
smiling,
and then…”

Boon trailed off, his voice cracking. I wished,
fervently, that I’d forced Becky and Alicia wait outside. I didn’t want him to
have to go through this in front of them. This was too much like how my father
had sounded. Boon shook his head, coughed, gathered himself. He seemed
considerably more sober than he had just a few minutes before.

“And then my father came. Shot him right in the back.
No questions asked. After that…well, then it was just the road. I blacked a lot
out after that. Next thing I remember, I was in a different city, a different
hotel, staring at the ceiling, seeing my mother’s smile in the pattern on the
ceiling. In the drapes. In the shadows from passing cars. It was everywhere.
And I was alone,” Boon said, coming to an end. His eyes had dropped from mine,
were staring down at his lap.

“Jesus. H. Christ,” Alicia said from the corner. I
snapped my head back to her, giving her a death glare to end all death glares.
She covered her mouth with her hands and turned to Becky, who rolled her eyes
and grabbed Alicia’s arm, pulling her towards the door.

“Sammy, we’re gonna be right outside, okay?” I was
thankful Becky was there to keep Alicia in line. It was obvious, at this point,
that I was in no real danger from Boon, and that we needed the time alone. If
Becky hadn’t been there, though, Alicia would have stuck around just to watch
everything play out. The door closed quietly behind them.

“And here it is, now, after all these years. You know,
it’s fucked, Samantha. It’s really fucked. I finally…I met you. You were
amazing, and beautiful, and you lived in the one place on earth I knew my
father would never return to. I didn’t think anyone would recognize me. I
thought I could disappear. I thought I could…”

He seemed to lose steam as he spoke, deflating even
more than he already was with each word. I reached out, not even thinking about
it, and grabbed his hand. It felt warm in mine. It felt familiar, like I’d held
it a million times before. He looked up at me.

“Samantha, you’re not the only reason I came here. I
mean, you are, the main reason. I could have gone a lot of places, I guess, but
I chose here. For you. But…I want out. I love my boys, I love the club, but I
can’t deal with my father anymore. He’s running it into the ground. He’s gone
rogue. I want out before he really hurts someone. Before…before my mother, it
was all pretty harmless. I mean, sure, drugs and money, but no one…no one got
hurt
hurt. Now it’s like…it’s almost
like he’s
trying
to leave a string of
bodies behind, no matter where we go.

And I’m scared of him. I’m scared to leave…so is
everyone else. None of us agree with the way he’s running things, but we’re all
too damn scared to do anything about it. I thought, maybe, if I came here,
where he wouldn’t follow…I could start over. I could be a new man. I could
maybe try to do something good with my life.

But it’s not in the cards, Samantha. This will follow
me. Forever. Wherever I go. I’m fortune’s fool.” He was speaking quickly,
almost as though he needed to say it all fast or else never say it at all. It
was like just saying the words scared him; I could see the anxiety in his eyes.

“You’re a good girl, though, Samantha. You don’t
deserve to get dragged down into my…my mess. Go home. Go home to your mother
and father and your pool and your friends and college. You have everything in
front of you. Don’t let me take that away,” he said, closing his eyes and
pulling his hand away from mine. I could feel him drawing away, into himself,
shutting me out.

“No. Come with me. We’ll talk to Daddy, we’ll tell him
everything, he’ll help you, he will!” I blurted out, desperate for him to
return from whatever dark place he was going. If he wanted to escape, start
over…if he just
told
Dad, we could
help. Dad might not like the idea of Boon, but I was sure that if he could just
think of Boon as that 12-year-old boy in that hotel room, he would change his
heart.

“Your father will shoot me right between my eyes if he
ever sees me near you again, and you know it. This is it for me, Samantha. I
have to go back to L.A. I have to face my father or…or just keep going. For as
long as I can. No matter what he asks me to do…”

Boon’s voice trailed off, his eyes distant and glazed.
I reached out for him again, but he pulled back even further. I didn’t know
what to do. I’d never had to comfort a man like him before. I could only think
of one thing. Reaching up to the straps of my tank top, I started to pull them
down, my breath coming heavy. Boon looked up, shook his head.

“Please, don’t. I…fuck, I want you, but it’s wrong.
Not here. Not like this. See, this is why I’m bad for you. You think you need
to do that to make me feel better? Make me stay? You didn’t come here for
that,” he said. I blushed.

“You don’t know what I came here for,” I whispered,
letting the straps stay down but not pulling them further.

“You came here for answers. You’ve got them. Now you
can go,” Boon said, flopping down onto his back and throwing an arm over his
face.