Page 22 of Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

“You think the other guys judge you?”

“It’s human nature to judge, but not in the way you mean. I think they just wouldn’t understand, because they assumed we were all one unit, and every time I’ve tried to talk to them about me not being a part of that, aside from an occasional romp, they all just give me that, ‘sure pal,’ look that I hate. So, I stopped trying.”

“And that meant that you had no outlet for your frustrations.”

“Yeah. My outlet became getting away from here as much as possible. If I wasn’t working to set up Liquid Lines I was out on runs for the club.”

“I know club business is what it is, but could you tell me about what going on runs means, generically speaking? You guys aren’t running people, drugs, or guns are you?”

I smiled down at the concerned look in her eyes. “Not in the way you’re suggesting. We do a lot of private security work. If a shipment moving via truck is carrying items that may be a high target item, we move with it as added security. Sometimes we’re hired out as bodyguards, other times it may be to guard a warehouse between shipments.”

“Ah, I get it. Muscle for hire, and the patches are an intimidation factor.”

“Yeah, but we run other legitimate businesses here too. We have the strip joint in town, Renegade Ruby’s. Then there’s Liquid Lines, and the automotive and body shop too. Each member who owns those businesses takes the lions share, but they also employ other club members, and a portion of profits go back into the club to help another brother establish their own business. We all take turns doing our part on the security end of things too so no one gets burned out or too overtaxed to do their own jobs.”

“That sounds like the best system ever. The fact that you help support the next endeavor, and they in turn help support the next. That’s awesome.”

“That’s a true brotherhood.”

“You guys are changing my minds about motorcycle clubs. I didn’t think I’d ever look at someone wearing a kutte as a good person.”

“The true assholes that would hurt women are the minority, Liza. I promise you that.” She nodded, and while I’m sure she was still uncertain of the validity of that statement, at least her opinions about my guys were starting to turn around more and more. Though, I’m certain the little incident with Amy earlier wasn’t helpful, and I would be addressing that with my friends later.

Just as I was thinking that my phone pinged. I moved away from Liza in order to reach it where I’d tossed it on the nightstand. A couple texts had come through while we were talking, but I’d been so lost in my conversation with Liza that I hadn’t heard any until the last.

A group chat with Whiskey, Fox, Amy, and myself was opened up.

Amy: I just want to say I’m sorry for the scene today. I really only wanted to talk to her.

Whiskey: You don’t need to apologize.

Fox: It’s ok darlin’. You’re all good.

Ten minutes had apparently gone by since the initial text.

Amy: Are you seriously not going to say anything, T?

Well, shit, she was going to force some ugliness out of me. I must have sighed out my frustration or grunted or whatever, because Liza sat up straighter. “Is everything okay?” She asked cautiously.

“Yeah,” I told her as I angled the phone so she could see the conversation. She rolled her eyes in response, but kept her mouth shut. I had to admire that, because if I were in her shoes, I’d probably have a whole lot to say considering she was most definitely owed the apology here. I smiled at her reassuringly.

Tango: I’ve been busy trying to explain your unusual reactions to Liza. She’s going through some serious shit, and didn’t need you coming at her like you did today. It’s not your business what her deal is here, but it is my business to tell you to keep your distance until you can apologize for your behavior and act like she’s someone your friend gives a shit about. She’s not some club whore to be treated like ass by you, or anyone else. And I don’t give a fuck what Whiskey or Fox just placated you with, you damn sure do owe her an apology for being a jerk while she was being considerate as hell and loyal to me. She didn’t know you. She didn’t know if you were allowed in my space. Hell, I’ve never once – since I’ve known you – invited you into my space, so I don’t know why you would think it was okay to go there without Whiskey and Fox being the ones to bring you, when I wasn’t around. And they shouldn’t be bringing you to my room without permission either. That’s something I’ve been meaning to address with all of you since before Liza got here. We’ll talk about this later, in person, and not through text.

I had angled the cell so that Liza could read over my shoulder as I typed, but she hadn’t invaded my privacy to do so. That spoke volumes to her character. “You can read my response, babe. You need to know that I have your back just as much as you had mine covered today.” I handed her the phone and as she read it I could have sworn I saw a sheen of tears in her eyes. She handed the phone back with a small smile and hopped off the bed.

“Thank you for that, but I’m still sorry to be mixed up in the middle of drama with your very best friends.”

“That’s not your doing though, so don’t take that burden on your shoulders. They’re heavy enough with the rest of your worries.”

“I’m going to shower and then go try to find something to eat. I haven’t been out of this room since last night.” That was a little alarming since I didn’t even get back until mid-afternoon.

“Babe, you don’t have to be afraid to leave the room when I’m not here. I promise, no one here will harm you.” Although, after being ripped into by someone who was supposedly my friend, in the doorway of our room, I could understand her reluctance. Fuck!

Another ping indicating another text came through.

Whiskey: Good job asshole, she’s crying again.

Fox: That was uncalled for!

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