Page 22 of Spyder
She laughs. “First of all, it’s called a kutte, not a vest. If you’re going to be a biker’s girlfriend, you need to learn the lingo.”
I can’t help but join her laughter. “Okay, first of all, I never said I was his girlfriend. He invited me for a drink. That’s it,” I say. “And second of all, how do you know so much about motorcycle clubs?”
“I watch TV,” she replies smugly, making me roll my eyes.
“So, tell me about this club. He said that it’s mostly veterans and it’s just a way for them to bond. I think he called it a brotherhood. A support group of sorts.”
She nods. “I don’t know everything about the Pharaohs, obviously. They’re definitely not in my social circle. But from what I’ve heard, yeah, it’s filled with veterans. Most of them have been to war and have come back with some issues. Things that those of us who haven’t been in the middle of a war will never understand or be able to relate to. So, yeah, I can see it being something of a support group.”
I drain the last of my glass and the waitress swings by and refills it. I’ve already had a few and should probably decline, but I don’t. It’s my day off, so to speak, and if I want to get a little tipsy, I will. I’ll sober before I get home so I can better care for my mom, but I don’t see a problem with having a few so I can relax right now.
“But?” I prompt her. “You have that look like you want to say something more.”
“Well… I mean, when you get right down to it, they’re a biker gang. I mean, they deal in drugs, they kill people… they’re probably not good guys, Bell.”
“What? That’s not true. Where did you hear that?”
“It’s just common knowledge. People around here talk.”
A frown touches my lips as I consider her words. I’m not naïve enough to not know that there are biker gangs out there who do some bad things. Violence. Murder. Drugs. Yeah, I’ve read about them. But that was not the vibe I got from Derek. Yeah, he’s got that bad boy thing about him, but to me, it’s more of an edge. Just an aesthetic. He certainly didn’t give me the impression that he’s a gun and drug runner. And he certainly didn’t make me think he’s a stone-cold killer.
“Do you actually believe these rumors, Rube?”
She pauses for a moment then looks up at me. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think about them. I mean, some people think they’re like the guardians of the town or something.”
“The guardians?”
She nods. “From what I understand, most of them are local boys. Grew up here or have claimed it as their home. And some people think they keep the streets clean. Free of drugs and the like.”
“And do you believe that?”
“I’m not sure. I will say that before they moved in here, Blue Rock did have a bit of a drug problem. And that’s gone away. But like they say, correlation does not equal causation. It could be that one thing has nothing to do with the other.”
“Or it could be that people are simply looking for reasons to demonize their club by stereotyping them and casting them as villains in this TV show in their minds.”
“It could be that,” she concedes. “But I do know for a fact they beat the hell out of a guy once… father of one of the students at school actually… and ran him out of town. He never came back.”
“Do you know why they did it?”
“Well… he was abusive and sold drugs. According to gossip, anyway.”
We both fall silent for a moment and I try to reconcile what she’s telling me with my impressions of Derek. I know I’m not the most street-savvy girl to ever walk the Earth, but I like to think I’m not a complete naïve idiot either. I think I can get a read on people pretty well and that my initial impressions are usually right. But I’m not infallible, so could I be wrong about him? Could I be looking at him through nostalgic, rose-tinted glasses?
Ruby gives me a tight smile. “I don’t want to be a total buzzkill here—”
“Too late.” I give her a smile to let her know that I’m joking.
“Sorry. I’m only telling you all of this because I don’t want to see you put into a position where you might get hurt. Or worse,” she says. “And I also don’t want you letting yourself fall hard for this guy only to find out he’s not who he says he is. Or who he lets you think he is. I think I owe it to you to give you the full picture.”
My smile grows wan. Like I said, Ruby is always going to give it to me straight and totally unvarnished. She doesn’t beat around the bush.
“I appreciate that, Rube. Honestly, it’s one drink. If I get a hinky vibe from him, I’ll take off.”
“Promise?”
“Swear it.”
She holds her hand up, extending her pinky to me like we used to do when we were younger. I laugh and hook my pinky through hers, gripping it tightly. It was always our way of making a solemn pact with each other that couldn’t be broken. It’s maybe a little childish and probably looks foolish to those around us, but I don’t particularly care right now. Being with Ruby and enjoying a day out together feels really nice.
