Page 4 of Vex

Taja is busy with orders when I take my seat again, so I sit quietly and watch her work. After completing several drink orders, she makes her way down the bar and stops in front of me.

“Thank you, Vex, for stepping up and getting that man out of here,” she tells me while looking me directly in the eyes. I note she’s calm and not visibly upset over being grabbed.

“You’re welcome. That’s what I’m here for, Taja.”

“We have security at Zero, but they’re not a lot of help, so us women usually have to deal with the jerks on our own.”

“Not here, doll. We look out for our own. How’s your wrist?”

“It’s fine. Thanks again, Vex,” she says before tapping the bar in front of me and walking off to get back to work.

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After helping Pooh patch the roof at New Horizons, a domestic violence shelter for women, I get cleaned up at the clubhouse and ride my bike to Dreams for my shift. Walking through the door, I catch myself looking for Taja. Annoyed at myself for doing that, I deliberately walk the opposite direction from the bar and get right into doing my rounds.

After a few hours, and numerous sly looks to the bar area, I make my way over there and take a stool. Taja immediately places a shot of Crown Royal in front of me, gives me a slight smile, and moves away.

Once again, it tweaks me a little that I’m not getting the usual female response from her that most give me. I’m used to getting a lot of attention from the female half of our population. Sometimes from the males too, but I pretend not to notice that shit.

Not trying to be conceited, but I know I’m a good-looking guy. I know this because everyone tells me this shit constantly. It makes getting laid very easy, too easy, but it gets old sometimes too. Looking like I do, women seem to think it’s okay to grab my ass, or worse, my junk, anytime they feel like it. Add in being a biker, and it seems to make them think there is a permanent green light for my cock.

Maybe my interest in Taja is simply her lack of interest in me. I think about this for a moment and realize that may very well be why I’ve been thinking about her a lot since meeting her last night. My ego is bruised, and that’s all this is about. My eyes shift to her again, and I drink her in. Nope, this isn’t all about my ego. She’s caught my eye, but I do know it’s a temporary thing. That’s all it ever is, and that’s all I’ll allow this to be. She’s an itch that I need to scratch, and then I can move on as I always do. One night’s all I ever allow with anyone outside of the club sluts. While thinking this, I realize I’m already forgetting my lesson about not dipping my pen in company ink. Hmm. Maybe since she’s temporarily working here, I won’t actually be breaking my own rule. My male brain is already finding ways around the obstacles.

Chapter 3

Taja

I’m running on fumes tonight. I’m exhausted, grief-stricken and worried about leaving Tessie home alone again. I’m trying to balance the need for money against the need to be a good sister. Tessie doesn’t really know how dire our finances are because I keep her in the dark so she doesn’t worry about something she can’t change. As the older sister, it’s my responsibility, not hers. She knows money is tight and offers constantly to get a job, but I won’t let her. She deserves to be a teenager, to enjoy high school and not to have to grow up too fast like I had to do. I don’t resent that I had to, not in the least, considering why that was the way things were.

When I was eight, and Tessie was one, Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. We were too young to understand what that meant exactly, but I wasn’t too young to see Mom struggling when our worthless father split. He left her sick with two small daughters to raise. He also left her broke. He took every penny they had with no regard to how she’d feed his kids.

Dad leaving made things very difficult for Mom financially, but other than that, it was good riddance. He was a shit father and husband anyway. He worked when he felt like it, ran on mom constantly and generally saw us girls as a waste of sperm. He wanted a son and got two girls instead. He made sure I was aware from a young age that I was worthless to him. I’ve always been grateful he left before he could poison Tessie with his opinions too.

Part of the reason I didn’t follow Suki to working at Dreams right away is because it’s owned by the Devil’s Angels MC. She understood my reasons, but she’s told me a thousand times that they’re nothing like my dad’s club, the Spirit Skulls. But I’ve only known one type of biker and have never wanted to spend time around any of them.

Dad’s the president of his club, and the club’s filled with men just like him. They are lowlife scum that think they’re complete badasses, when in reality they’re just criminals who are too lazy to work real jobs. Luckily, when Dad left Mom, he moved his club to Santa Fe.

“You with us tonight, doll?” I hear spoken in a deep, smooth voice.

My body jerks and I turn to see Vex sitting on a stool directly in front of me. My mind had wandered so far that I didn’t see him take a seat.

“Yeah, sorry Vex. Want a drink?”

“Beer, please. You alright? You seem distracted,” he says with a small smile that tilts up one side of his mouth.

“I’m fine, really. Just tired, I guess.”

“You need a drink and a break from behind the bar. You get two breaks a shift and you haven’t taken any of them yet. Pick your poison and I’ll get Ash to cover the bar,” Vex orders, and he walks off before I can decline.

I sigh, grab a Coke, and walk out the front door when Ash takes over the bar. I walk along the front of the building until I get to a low block wall and take a seat. Looking around, I notice the parking lot’s only about half full tonight. It’s a weeknight, so that’s not surprising. I have the feeling I’m not alone, but I don’t see anyone else at the moment.

I enjoy a few moments of quiet when I hear a bike roar to life and see a headlight shining from the back of the lot. I warily watch as it creeps my direction. I stand and start inching back toward the front door of the club when the bike comes to a stop next to me. Turning to face the rider head-on, I take a step back so I’m out of reach. I know who this is, and I’m not happy to have him approaching me. He’s the same biker that was at the cemetery and the same one I spot occasionally around town watching Tessie and me. His road name is Popeye, and he’s one of my dad’s club members.

“Call your dad, Taja. He wants to talk to you, and he wants to do that now. Not tomorrow, not an hour from now,” Popeye barks at me while holding out a burner phone for me to use.

“What dad? You mean the one who walked out when Mom got sick the first time? That one? Fuck him! I have nothing to say to him that he’d want to hear. Tell him to stay out of my life like he chose to do years ago,” I spit back.

“Not up for debate, Taj. Do as you’re told and be a good little biker brat. Your dad’s not happy that you’ve chosen to associate with the Devil’s. He wants to speak with you. Call him or he’ll show up here, and things will get ugly,” he responds.

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