...or something: Ronacks Motorcycle Club (2 page)

"Is that so?" He started heading toward the main entrance to get her moving.

"Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't want to be a man." She walked at his side, slightly behind him. He let her have the time to get used to seeing him, and next time he came by she'd be more receptive.

"You're a pretty girl, Bree." He glanced at her. "I'm glad you're not a man, too."

She hurried to keep up with his longer strides. "Are you a wobbly?"

"A what?" he said.

"You know, hanging around trying to get hired on with the carnival."

He shook his head.

She skipped to keep up with him. "Do you know someone here or are you trying to get into the backyard where all the carnies stay to go to the party later?"

"Nope." He stopped within fifty feet of the concession stand. "Do me a favor and do what you need to do and get back to the trailer you're staying in."

"Why?"

"Cause it's a dangerous place for a sixteen-year-old girl," he said. "Someone needs to take care of you."

"What's your deal?" She stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. "If you're not part of the carnival, and you're not here to party, what do you want from me?"

"Tonight, I want you to go to bed and get some sleep."

Her hip came out, and she shifted the box again to her side. "What kind of pervert tells me to go to sleep?"

"The kind you should listen to and do what he says because he cares." He pointed away from him. "Get going."

With the light coming from the main booth, she studied him closely. He leaned toward her lowering his brows and letting her get a good look at his face. She rolled her eyes, and he almost smiled at the bravery she displayed by standing up to him.

"Whatever. It's not like I didn't notice you watching me for the last hour or so. You've got some real hang-ups, dude. I know a creeper when I see one." She walked away and damned if her little ass didn't mock him, swaying side by side.

With that attitude she gave him, he made his decision. He'd send the other members of Ronacks Motorcycle Club back to Montana, and he'd stay at the motel in town a little longer. He wasn't quite satisfied with her living with a carnival, and she wasn't old enough to be on her own.

B
attery showed up outside Bree's booth an hour ago. Bree recognized him right away, and he'd held her attention since. There weren't many men showing up at the carnival in a rural community in Washington sporting black jeans, black T-shirt with the arms cut off, and a black leather vest with the words Ronacks Motorcycle Club on the back.

Around here, the men were mostly farmers and wore flannel shirts rolled up to their biceps to beat the warm weather. Battery appeared to flip off Mother Nature and wear exactly what he wanted to uphold a bad reputation and scare people away.

The temperature hovered at ninety degrees. She sweated in a pair of shorts and a thin tank top, and Battery stood there without a drop of perspiration on his weathered skin. He'd barely said hey before he settled in at the end of her booth and crossed his arms in the hot midday sun.

"Come on up and try your hand at throwing the darts." She leaned against the counter, getting her ballyhoo on to take advantage of the innocent, and pointed to a teenage girl walking with a group of her friends. "I've got teddy bears, puppy dogs, and any animal you'd like to take home with you."

The girl looked away and kept walking. Bree sighed and gazed at Battery. "You're frightening people away standing there looking all scary and mean."

"Not my problem." His dark gaze traveled down to the bare skin above her tank. "I'll be right back."

"Oh, don't worry about me. I'm not going anywhere. I have this thing called a job," she mumbled to his back.

A young boy holding his mother's hand pointed at her booth. She pulled one of the large overhead stuffed animals down and set it on the counter. Behind on sales for the day, she needed to take advantage of Battery's absence and make some money to keep her position as top moneymaker.

"Step right up and win this big guy." She knocked on the plywood counter going right into her jam. "Five dollars gives you three darts. Pop three balloons and be the big winner of the day."

The child tugged his mom in Bree's direction. She set the giant teddy bear to the side, picked up a dart, and tossed it toward the balloons with a satisfying
pop
. "How about you, young man? Do you want to try your hand at the easiest game at the carnival?"

"Can I, mom?" The boy looked to his mother.

"Only once and then we have to meet Travis at the burger barn for lunch." His mom set a five-dollar bill on the counter.

Bree shoved the cash in her pocket and slid three darts toward the boy. "Feel free to climb up on one of the stools and lean closer to the balloons. It takes a steady hand and good eyes."

On the boy's second throw a balloon popped. Bree cheered and took a step back out of the line of an excited throw that decided to go wide. She grabbed a small size stuffed animal.

The third dart missed. Before the boy could get defeated, she picked up a medium sized dragon. "I'll tell you what I'll do. Buy three more darts and I'll let you trade one of the smaller animals you won for this awesome dragon if you get one more balloon. I don't give that offer to just anyone, but I like you. What do you say, do you feel lucky today?"

"Please, mom," said the boy.

The mom sighed and dug in her purse. "One more try and that's it."

Bree scooped up the money, handed over three more darts, and smiled. "All right, you can do it. Concentrate and give it your best try."

Miss.

Miss.

Miss.

"Oh, maybe next time." She took the dragon off the counter and tossed the kid some round Pokémon creature. "Thanks for playing and come back later to try again."

She grabbed the stool she rarely sat on and climbed up on the seat and hung the giant teddy bear back up out of reach. Jumping down, she pushed her hair off her overheated face and found Battery back outside the booth.

He set a large pop on the counter. "Drink. You're going to get dehydrated. When do you get a break?"

"Five o'clock. I get an hour off and then I work until eleven when the carnival closes." She sucked on the straw and moaned in sweet, chilled relief. "Thanks for the pop. It's so hot out here."

"I'll buy you dinner," he said.

She shook her head. "I usually go back to the trailer. It's got air conditioning, and I can make myself a sandwich before I'm due back at work."

"We'll find some shade. Then, you'll eat, and tell me more about yourself." He moved off to the side out of the way of the counter without giving her a chance to decline his offer.

A group of teenage boys swaggered over to the booth to play, brag, and flirt with her. If she wanted to stay in the top carny position, she'd need to hustle and bally her ass off.

Two hours later and caught up in sales, she walked away from one of the food trailers with a corndog, curly fries, and a strawberry shake following Battery behind the caravan of carny trailers to the grassy knoll behind the grandstand where the rodeo would happen tomorrow night.

By the time she sat down in the shade and leaned her back up against the support for the bleachers, she'd eaten half her corndog. Usually, she only splurged once a week on a meal from one of the food vendors. The jacked up prices too much to dish out on a daily habit.

Battery stretched out on the ground and leaned back on his elbow and drank his milkshake without a straw. She wiped her mouth off on the back of her hand. His light brown hair swung down, half covering his face.

She dipped a fry into the pile of ranch dip in the corner of her paper tray. "Why did you buy me dinner?"

He set his cup in the grass. "You needed to eat."

She eyed him carefully. "Do you want sex or something?"

"You're sixteen years old. You shouldn't even be talking about having sex with anyone, especially me." He ran his tongue over the corner of his mouth. "Is that how you talk to everyone?"

"It's not like you're hanging around the carnival to make sure I eat and get your jollies off scaring people away from my booth." She set her tray down, crawled over, and picked up his cup.

Scooting back to her food, she dumped the remains of his milkshake in her cup and stirred it with her straw. He'd ordered banana flavor, and everyone knew bananas and strawberries went together. After it was mixed, she dumped half of the milkshake into his cup and stretched across the span of grass separating them and handed him his drink back. "Go ahead and try it now."

Battery pushed the straw to the side, tipped back his head, and drank straight from the cup. Wiping off the ice cream that clung to the bottom of his mustache, he nodded. "Good."

She smiled and drank from her straw. "So, what do you want a blowjob? A quickie?"

Battery's mouth hardened. "If you don't shut the fuck up, I'll teach you a lesson someone else should've taught you before. You shouldn't even be thinking about sex at your age."

She laughed. "Look at you being all..."

"Bree," he said, the warning clear as a bell.

"Loosen up. All men want sex. It's how you stay alive and keep breathing. Without sex, you'd die." She ate a few more fries. "So, for the hundredth time, why are you hanging around me?"

"Because I want to."

"Do you always do what you want, even if the other person doesn't want you to?" she asked.

"Pretty much," he muttered.

She thought about that and nodded in acceptance. "You're like me. I do what I want too," she said, suspecting there wasn't much he wouldn't do.

He ignored her statement and looked out over the carnival grounds. "There's nothing here for you."

"What do you mean?"

"This place. Washington," he said.

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. In a week, I'll be gone. Bill—he's the owner, decided to move the carnival to Kansas after years of working this spot. I've never been there or anywhere, really, and Kansas sounds boring. Like Hicksville where the killer comes out of the corn field and stalks the town."

"That's in every town," he muttered.

"Well, it's a job, and I'm good at doing what I do." She wiped her hand on her shorts, playing his game of conversation with him. "Where are you from?"

"Montana." He gazed back around to her. "Got a house that's used as the clubhouse for the motorcycle club. I'm the only one living there. Everyone else has their own place unless we get members from out of the area visiting, and then they'll crash for a few days. I bet you'd like it there with the Rocky Mountains, the lakes, the freedom, the club."

"I like being a carny." The condensation from her cup dripped on her bare leg, and she wiped the moisture away. "I already told you, I like being by myself. I don't need anyone."

"Everyone needs someone, Bree," he said quietly. "It sounds like nothing is holding you here. You could come with me to Montana. You'd have a good life."

"You don't know anything about me," she said.

His gaze softened, and he looked away. She forgot about the food. The sadness in his eyes came and went, but she'd seen it. She recognized it. She'd felt it.

"I know enough. You're living with a broad who doesn't give two-shits about a young girl or her safety. The owner of the carnival, Bill Watkins, is in debt up to his eyeballs. By this time next year, CrazyTown Carnivals will no longer exist and then where will you go? What will you do at sixteen years old?"

She snorted. "You don't know anything. You just want me to think you can solve all these imaginary problems that aren't going to come true, and I'll be overjoyed with the help and give you a blowjob."

"Trust me, carny-girl. When I want a blowjob, it's not going to be from a teenage girl, no matter how pretty she is." He pushed himself to his feet. "I'll be back later."

She put her tray down on the ground and stood. "Where are you going?"

Battery continued walking in his steady stride down the knoll and into the crowd. Rejection overwhelmed Bree, and she kicked out at the tray with her leftover fries and sent the garbage away from her.

He was wrong.

The carnival wasn't in trouble. Bill hadn't told any of the employees about money problems. The move to Kansas was a way to drum up new business at a new location. She hooked her thumbs through her belt loops on her shorts and walked toward her booth. Battery was crazy. And, he had a stupid name.

He probably never even rode a motorcycle before. She dragged her sneakers through the grass. She was sick of liars. All the carnies lied. Even Delilah tried to convince everyone she was married, and her husband lived in Wyoming or Wisconsin, some W-state. She knew it wasn't true because she'd overheard Bill call Delilah a bitter old woman who'd never had a man.

That same day she listened in on the conversation from her fold-out bed in the trailer and learned a new word. Cocksucker.

"Cocksucker," she whispered, drawing out the word cock. The more she said cock, the more she liked it. She only had to find the right occasion to use the word.

She approached the back of her booth. With her luck, Delilah would rub off on her, and she'd never have a boyfriend or get married. Life in the carnival ruined many people. She wasn't going to let anyone mess up her life.

"Bree," said a male voice.

She turned and found Bill hurrying toward her, followed by a woman wearing high heels and navigating the field at a slower pace. Pushing her hair out of her face, she crossed her arms and waited for her boss to complain about her taking too long of a lunch break, when she knew she'd made it back in time to open the booth.

"You're done for the day." Bill held out his hand. "I'll need the key to the cash box."

"What are you talking about?" She dug in her pocket and handed the key to him. "It's Friday night. Our biggest night and the crowd is just beginning to arrive. We can't shut down the booth."

Bill handed the key to the woman beside him. Bree's lip curled at the bikini top wearing carny.

"What are you giving her the key for?" asked Bree.