Page 16 of Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

Chapter 8

Liza

(2 weeks, 2 days ago)

Home sweet home was the stuff of biker compound wet dreams apparently. When we rode up into the parking area, after passing through a gate system, we were greeted by eight bikers, one woman, and more bikes than I could account for if our welcome party were the only riders. That told me there were still a handful or two inside or elsewhere out of sight. I have to say, that knowledge made me a little nervous.

The minute Tango turned the truck off and stepped out, two bikers and the woman with the bright red hair damn near ran over to him and hugs were banded about as if he’d gone off to war for months and just returned home. I was a bit confused by the dynamic, but assumed this was Whiskey and Fox, the best friends that he had served with. He had told me about them on our three-day trip to South Dakota from Reno. I also assumed that the woman was the one the two guys apparently shared. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around that one, but to each their own. The woman, I think he’d said her name was Amy, stood up on tiptoes and attempted to plant a kiss on Tango’s lips that he dodged, forcing her to land her thin lips on his cheek instead. I had to stifle a laugh, because he seemed annoyed by her attempted too-familiar kiss while she was put off by him not allowing it. The men he’d described as his best friends each gave the other a questioning glance as it happened to. I wondered if they were questioning her forward and familiar behavior or his rebuff.

“You getting out of that truck any time today, lady?” One of the other bikers asked of me. He was older with paler skin than the men around him; short cropped blond hair, and alert, watchful blue eyes that were pinned on me. Glancing down, I noticed that his patch stated he was President and that his road name was Iceman. I simply nodded to him, gathered the things I had in the front seat with me, and went to open my door. Tango beat me to it though, having made his way around to get the door and offer me a hand getting out. I took it since the truck was on the high side, and while I wasn’t a tiny thing, I was still short enough that it was a task getting down with my hands full of stuff as they were.

“Everybody, this is Liza Rossi, she’s going to be staying with us a while until we figure out what to do about the situation with the King’s Demons.” From what Tango had told me, he had already informed his club about everything concerning me, including the story I told him about my kidnapping by the KD before. The redhead looked on questioningly as he spoke though.

“If she’s in trouble with another MC why is she here?” The ‘with you’ seemed to be implied in her question.

“That’s club business,” he damn near snapped at her. She stepped back, clearly affronted by how he spoke to her. Whiskey and Fox flanked her sides and scowled in Tango’s general direction.

“It will remain club business only, for now, and until I say different,” Iceman reiterated, as he too must have noticed the interactions concerning the other woman present. She continued to scowl along with the other two men while Tango tossed his arm around me, and started guiding me to the front door of the building that I was just now realizing had very few windows on the ground floor.

“Come on, let’s get you settled in with your things. Ashton brought your luggage already so all your stuff is waiting on you,” Tango told me as one of the other men stepped in front of us and did some bippity-boppity-boo shit to the panel on the door before it managed to open up. We all packed into a smallish room that barely contained all the large, hard-bodied bikers as once again another control panel was accessed before the next door was pushed open with a snick and hiss of air, leading into a huge, open floor room that looked like something you would find when walking into an old school honkytonk. Wooden floors predominated the space. The far wall held a bar that ran damn near three quarters the length of the room. Beyond that in a back corner were several pool tables and other tabletop games. To my left high top tables surrounded a stage off in the corner and a few couches and lounging chairs interspersed all willy-nilly. A set of stairs led up to a balcony that connected to what appeared to be a long hallway that seemed to match one right below it. The lower hallway was located between the stage and pool table areas, effectively splitting them into separate spaces within the large common area.

While I was surveying the space it wasn’t lost on me that there were bikers lounging about here and there. It seemed relatively laid back, but then again, it was only 2:30 in the afternoon. According to Tango, things could get pretty wild around here and they did have club whores that were generally known as sweetbutts, but that his club jokingly referred to as BRATs. When I’d asked what BRATs meant, Tango had chuckled before informing that it meant ‘Bitches Relinquishing Ass and Tits’ or some such nonsense the oversexed idiots of his club had come up with. All that really mattered was that each of the women who fell in that category were here willingly to service the members who chose to use them. Yes, I did throw up in my mouth a little when he described it. Mostly, because I remembered the girl with no name from when I had been taken by the King’s Demons. She hadn’t been so willing to service anyone, and it made things very difficult for me to process why any woman would knowingly consent to putting herself in that situation. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the freedom aspect after having my only interaction with that sort of situation coming from a dark and horrible place. None of the women I saw in this place, so far, appeared to be bothered by a single thing though.

Actually, the more worrisome thing was that I was receiving a few appreciative looks from some of the men lounging about when Tango glared in the general direction of his President. “Did you send out the memo?”

“I did,” he offered on a chuckle. “I told them hands off, that doesn’t mean they can’t appreciate the scenery, T.” Tango grumbled something in response that I didn’t quite catch, but it didn’t matter, because he grabbed hold of my hand and started pulling me to the right, and down one of two halls I hadn’t even taken notice of yet, because I’d been too busy orienting myself with the other half of the large space.

“Your room is down this hall for now, but I will be sure to get you moved over near mine as soon as possible.”

“Why? What’s wrong with this hall?”

“This is where the BRATs stay. We have some visiting members from another chapter in right now, so most of the rooms were taken up where the members and guests are usually placed since we haven’t finished renovations downstairs yet.”

“Will there be an issue with people trying to get into my room?” I asked the question quietly so as not to offend anyone, or give out ideas, but my words stopped Tango cold in his tracks.

“You know what? I think you’d be best taking my room for now. I can bunk with one of the guys, or take this room down here for the time being until the guys from Cedar Falls head back home.”

“I don’t want to put you out,” I told him.

“Fuck that! I’ll never get any sleep if I’m worrying about some asshole trying to get in your room thinking you’re another BRAT.” Just then the prospect I had seen briefly, and from a distance, in Reno strolled by. “Hey, Ashton, grab Liza’s bags from the room you put them in, and bring them to mine.”

Ashton’s face grew a little pale then as he glanced between Tango and myself guiltily. Tango immediately went on edge, waiting for whatever the younger man had to say. “Well, I just came from there, and the thing is, I didn’t have a key to the room when I went to put her stuff in there before.” Oh damn, I think I already knew where this was going and I was sick to my damn stomach over it. Before he could say another word one of their whores came out of a different room wearing my Vintage Rolling Stones t-shirt that my dad had given me. It was an original t-shirt he had gotten for my mom many years ago, and she had never worn it, because it wasn’t her thing.

“You thieving ass bitch, get my fucking shirt off your nasty ass body, right now!” I yelled out, causing the entire room behind us to go dead silent. I did not give a single fuck though. This whore was wearing my shirt. It still had my mom’s name on it, and was signed by Mick, himself.

“This isn’t yours, you crazy cunt!” The woman screamed back at me.

“Turn around. I bet it says, ‘To Katie, Love Mick” on the back. “The Katie in question was my mom since the shirt was signed for her.”

“Listen, you stupid whore, just because you don’t know how to lock your shit up…” the girl started, but her eyes widened at something over my shoulder. I didn’t bother to turn and look.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Iceman bellowed from just behind me.

“I was just telling Tango that when I put Ms. Liza’s things in the room meant for her, I didn’t have a key, so I had to go find one.”

“Why were you just now finding a key to the room today when you got back three days ago with her shit?” Iceman asked.

“Her things were in the brother’s wing before, but when we got company Rabbit told me to shift her room down here until they left,” Ashton explained. “I brought her stuff down, but didn’t even think about the key situation until after I went to close the door and realized it’s one of the two rooms down here with a key lock only.” That put a chill in my bones. It’s a good thing Tango had already offered up his space, because I’d be damned if they put me in a room that could be locked from the outside with a key.

---