Page 71 of Deserter

The hand fell away from my throat and I immediately began coughing as the speaker stepped into view. He was a little shorter than Jamie, but still over six foot, with dark brown hair that fell just past his chin. His dark eyes were hooded, and I couldn’t decide if he was high or if that was just how he looked naturally.

The bikers disappeared and the man shrugged. “Grey’ll deal with ‘em later, don’t you worry about that.”

“Thank you,” I said once my breathing returned to normal. “I’m Celia.”

His hand dropped from his goatee and wrapped around my shoulders. “Comedian, and unlike these jackasses, I know exactly who you are. So, Celia, you hear the one about the woman who went to her doctor?”

“Uh, no?”

He guided me toward the front doors. “So, this woman goes to her doctor and she’s like, ‘Doc, I’m twenty weeks pregnant. When will my baby move?’ And the doctor looks her dead in the eye and says, ‘With any luck, right after he graduates college.’ Get it?”

I smiled. “That’s pretty good, actually. Did you know I got fired from my job at the bank today?”

Comedian frowned. “You worked at a bank?”

I nodded. “Yeah. An older woman came in and asked me to check her balance, so I pushed her over. I don’t work there anymore.”

It took him a second, but then he let out a booming laugh as we walked inside. “Damn, Celia. You got me! I’ll have to use that one.”

“How did you know who I was?” I yelled over the blaring rock music, while searching for Jamie. The bass pulsated inside my skull, making it hard to focus.

“Oh, the Pres has us check in on you when he can’t be there, just like he checks in on my family when I’m on a run.”

He turned to face me, suddenly serious. “Look, my Ol’ Lady was out of line, taking you to Vik’s behind Grey’s back. I just want you to know she’ll never pull shit like that again.”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about that day and how it had ended. “It’s fine, really. If you could just tell me where Grey is.”

Preferably before I chicken out and go back to my car.

“He’s a little fucked up right now, but Slim is on it—”

“He’s what? Where is he?”

Comedian winced. “Okay, yeah, he’s a lotta fucked up right now and I don’t think you’re gonna want to talk to him when he’s like that. He gets mean.”

Okay, coming down here had not been my best plan. Calypso had never tried to get off the island and go after Odysseus, proving that she was much smarter than I was.

I’d seen Jamie’s mean and I wasn’t keen on the idea of a repeat performance.

“Please, I just need to talk to him.”

He sighed and pointed. “Back room.”

I exhaled slowly and straightened my spine. I was going to walk up to him and say…well, I was going to think of something really profound to say. My thoughts became jumbled as fear settled in my chest.

What if he’d had second thoughts about the baby?

Molly said she’d heard of bikers who dropped their Ol’ Ladies when they got pregnant. No, I wasn’t going to think like that. John had said he’d come around.

I took another deep breath and stepped into the back room. I was momentarily disoriented by the change in lighting and thick cloud of smoke, nearly stumbling right into the middle of two bikers sharing a woman on one of the large couches.

I froze as she picked her head up with a moan, but she remained oblivious to my presence. I watched from the shadows for longer than I cared to admit, while wondering if that was what men wanted.

A whore.

I realized that the rhythmic tapping wasn’t from the music in the other room, but from bodies coming together. Everywhere I looked, there were bikers engaging in sex acts; there were a few I hadn’t even known existed.

How was I supposed to find Jamie in this den of debauchery?

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