Page 69 of Straight to Me

“Red.”

“Right.” VP purses his lips, with a short nod of his head. They all understand what that means, but it washes over me. I shift in my seat uncomfortable. VP looks down at me. “You okay babe?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I smile. He leans down kissing me lightly.

“So, will Mads be coming to your party?” Travis asks.

VP turns to Travis, who’s taking a seat on an empty stool, then looks back to me questioningly. “I’ll be there,” I answer, nodding to them both. The corner of VP’s mouth lifts.

“Guess that means you’ve got to come this year. You miserable fuck,” Travis says, slapping VP’s back.

It makes me wonder how much these men know about his childhood. I can’t imagine wanting to celebrate a birthday the day before the anniversary of your mother’s death is something VP wants. He’s a lot stronger than I could have ever imagined.

I’m suddenly hugged from behind without warning. My arms are stuck to my side as the wind is knocked out of me from a crushing embrace. The man is as tall as me sat on the stool, short compared to the others.

Spying what I can from over my shoulder, he’s wearing his leather cut with a white t-shirt, a beer belly’s evident underneath. His hairline is receding, but what hair he does have is tied back on his neck. His cheeks and chin are covered in thick black hair. It tickles the side of my face as he hugs me tightly. He looks exactly like how I imagine bikers to look.

Aged probably in his early fifties, he still manages to show a childlike kindness to me. “Okay, Skitz. Let her go.” VP physically unhooks the man’s hands from around me.

“My future looks brighter with you around,” Skitz says, bowing rather dramatically in front of me.

“A fucking glowstick has a brighter future than you. Lasts longer too,” Travis spits, looking pointedly to Skitz’s crotch area.

The men around us all laugh. Skitz seems to like the banter, despite it being at his expense, and saunters off to the other end of the bar smiling and twirling round like a loon.

“Why do you call him Skitz?” I whisper to VP.

“Because he’s crazy.” VP widens his eyes for dramatic effect.

A low growl of a voice sounds behind VP and Travis. I recognise it instantly. “Dean.” My blood curdles as Rocco stands at the bottom of the stairs. When VP turns around, Rocco summons him with a silent hand gesture.

Frowning, VP stands. “Stay here with Travis, I won’t be long.” He kisses my forehead before walking away. Travis asks me a question, but I can’t concentrate. I want to know what VP and his president are talking about.

“Mads?”

“Shit, sorry,” I say blinking.

“Don’t apologise, my boy has that effect on all the women.”

I pause mid-reach for my beer. “That’s, uh, good to know.”

“I’m messing… He turns heads, but he’s never brought a woman here or introduced a chick to any of us,” Travis reassures me. I try my best to smile at him. It’s nice to hear, but I feel out of my depth with this crowd. Travis’s eyes widen suddenly.

“Fuck, I knew I recognised you. You’re the girl from that bar... the church or the chapel or something?”

“The Cathedral?”

“That’s it. Shit, now it makes sense. Deano crushed hard leaving you… no wonder he’s been MIA for the past few days. When did you drive up?”

He’s been MIA? “Tuesday,” I reply, my nerves completely shot.

“You here long?” I look to VP. He and Rocco are having a slightly heated debate by the look of things.

“Uh, yeah. Well, I moved here. For work purposes.”

Travis’s eyes light up a little patronising. “Sure you did,” he smirks.

Feeling like I have to justify myself, I elaborate, “My sister lives up here. I’m staying with her until I move into my new flat. I needed a new challenge and so I start a new job in three weeks. Dean’s been spending some time with me before that normal stuff takes over.”

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