Beautiful Outlaw (4 page)

“You don’t need to be scared,” Jeremy says, seemingly reading my thoughts.  “Bowie will make sure you’re safe.”

“I know,” I reply, lying to help ease his mind.  “I’ll be fine.”

Taking one hand from the steering wheel, he grabs a large manila envelope from above his visor.  Handing it to me, he says, “Read that.  I want you to memorize every word of it before you get off the bus.”

I open it, with shaking hands and pull out the contents.  The first thing I notice is a driver’s license.  It’s something I have never had before and never thought I would get. Learning to drive was not something high on my list of priorities when my mother was sick.  After I married Marcus, he thought learning to drive was a waste of time when he hired a full-time driver to take me anywhere I wanted. 

I stare at it, shocked at what I see. The picture looks like me. At least it’s like the me I used to be, only older.  My hair is blonde and eyes are blue on the license, the way they were meant be. The only difference is my name: Shay Johnson.

“How did you do this?”

“I know a guy.” He explains, without giving me any real explanation. 

“The picture…, how did you make it look like me?” Even in my mind, the woman I’ve become isn’t me.  I’m still that girl I was the day I opened the door to Marcus Bell. 

He peeks over at me then looks back at the road.  “You have to change the way you look, so I figured you might want to go back to the old you.”

I use the back of my hand to wipe a stray tear from my eye, as I sort through the rest of envelope.  There is a birth certificate, social security card, and a stack of cash.  I’m not sure how much, but I know it is probably everything Jeremy could get his hands on. I slowly close my eyes and will my tears to stay in check; I can cry when I’m alone, but not here for my brother to see. 

“Thank you.”

He ignores the sentiment and carries on.  “Make sure to study it all.  I want you to know it like the back of your hand.  It’s your life, what you will tell everyone about you. I don’t want anyone, not even Bowie, calling you Laura.  From this moment on, you are Shay.”

I let his words settle in my mind, knowing there is no turning back.  After a moment’s hesitation, regretting the loss of the life I had once shared with my family, I open my eyes and start to read.  There is paper after paper of information, detailing every moment of Shay’s life. I shake my head at the thought; no, it’s my life.  At least, it’s the life I have now.

I grew up in a small town in Alabama; I was an only child, and my parents died in a car accident when I was twenty. I graduated from high school and have the diploma to prove it.  From there, I worked a few menial jobs, while traveling across the county.  Every stop was a place my real family had visited; I assume this was so I would have a basic knowledge of the place.  My last home had been in Nashville, Tennessee, and I had worked at a daycare there. 

“A daycare…” I mumble out, imagining myself surrounded by children. 

“I couldn’t fake college transcripts, not with so little time.  I know you wanted to teach, so I figured I would give you a background with children, just in case you still wanted to go to school.”

I look over to him, as hope blooms in my chest.  “I could do that; couldn’t I?”

A small smile plays on his lips, before he replies.  “You sure can.  I want you to give it a little while, six months maybe a year.  Then, you can enroll in school.   You’re going to a little town called Rich Hill.  It’s not far from Owensboro.  There are some good colleges near there, so you could get your degree.”

“Thank you.” I say again, hoping he can hear exactly how much I mean the words. 

He lifts his hand from the steering wheel again; this time bringing it to his chest to tap his heart two times.  The gesture brings a true smile to my lips for the first time in years.  It’s something he always did to tell me that he loved me, something I have missed desperately.

I lean across the seat and place a quick kiss on his cheek.  “I love you, too.”

Not in my Bed

Bowie

I take a drag from my cigarette, as I watch people start to unload off the bus.  One by one, they climb down looking haggard.  Just as the crowd starts to thin, I see a skinny red head step out and grab a suitcase from the ground.  As she starts to walk away from the bus, I get a closer look and have to shake my head. No way, no fuckin’ way.

Her hair is pulled back in a tight knot at the base of her neck, not a strand out of a place.  The black pants and purple turtle neck she’s wearing don’t even have a damn wrinkle on them, even though every other person looks like they’ve rolled around in their clothes for a week.  Even from a distance, I can see that her face is caked in make-up.  Not the kind the girls at the club wear.  No, this shit isn’t meant to attract a man; it’s meant to hide the person underneath the paint. It’s her mask from the world.

With each step closer, I know I’m right.  This uptight bitch is Laura, the same girl that used to make my dick hard as a rock.  Now, the damn thing is shriveling up at the sight of her.  Any dreams of having Laura in my bed quickly fade away.  This woman won’t be going anywhere near my bed or my cock. 

Wanting to get this over with quickly, so I can drop her ass off with Nina, I bring my fingers to my lips and blow.  The sound causes everyone to stop in their tracks and look.  My eyes meet hers and she misses a step, causing her to nearly the fall.  Catching herself just in time, she straightens up and turns away.  What the fuck?

“Laura.” I shout out, not wanting to chase her ass down. 

She stops, standing statue still for just a moment then slowly turns around and walks toward me.  In a loud voice, making sure everyone around us can hear, she says, “I’m sorry.  You must have mistaken me for someone else; my name is Shay.”

Looking down at her, my eyes narrow in on her pinched lips.  “You’re not Laura?”

She shakes her head and whispers, “Not anymore.”

Blowing out a frustrated breath, I look into her eyes. “I don’t give a fuck what you want me to call you.  I’m not chasing you across this place.  If you want a ride, you better follow me.”

Not waiting for her to reply, I turn on my heels and head to my bike.  I’m only a few feet away, when a shaking hand reaches out and grabs my arm.  “Are you Bowie?”

I may not want this woman in my bed, but she’s still Lock’s little sister and probably scared out of her damn mind.  I stop, looking over my shoulder at her. She looks up at me, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. Something about the way her teeth look digging into the tender flesh has my cock taking notice.  Maybe fuckin’ the ice queen would be possible after all. “Yeah, I am.”

She continues to stare at me for few seconds, before finally releasing her lip.  “What did the other soldiers call my brother?”

I crack a smile at her question, knowing her brother taught her well.   “Lock, he’s the reconnaissance master.  He could get a lock on the enemy from a mile away.”

She finally nods her head, looking away from my face.  “My name is Shay now.  Jeremy said it was very important that I let you know that right away.”

What the fuck is going on here?  Hiding her away, changing her name, all this cloak and dagger shit makes me wonder what the fuck her dickhead of a husband did to her.  “He also said he would tell me what the hell is happening, but he hasn’t told me shit yet.”

She looks around the parking lot, making sure no one is near.  “Can we talk about it somewhere else?”

I’m about to tell her no, make her give me the information that I want, but then I notice the tears in her eyes.  They’re not running down her cheeks; she’s not sobbing to get her way like most bitches.  The tears are just pooling against her eyelashes, as if she is holding them there by pure force of will.  I know that she’s holding on by a thread, and that thread is going to break at any moment. “Yeah, let’s get you out of here.”

Not wanting to watch her fall apart, I look away and continue the walk to my bike.  I can hear the click, click of her heels as she follows close behind. As I slide on, I finally look back at her and see her standing only a few feet away.  She is looking from the bike to her suitcase and back.  “Uhmm…”

I stop her before she can even start.  “There’s no room on the bike for that.  You either leave it behind, or you stay here with it.”

Something flashes in her eyes; it’s not quite anger, but I can tell my words aren’t making her happy.  When she steps forward, I assume it’s to chew my ass.  Instead, she shakes her head and says, “There’s nothing in it.  Jeremy gave it to me.  He just wanted me to carry a suitcase, so I didn’t look out of place on the bus.”

I laugh at her words.  “Darlin’, you couldn’t look more out of place if you tried.”

She looks puzzled as she asks, “What do you mean?”

I lift a hand, motioning toward her.  “Those fancy-ass clothes, the hair, all of it; no way you look like you belonged on that bus.”

She looks down at herself, inspecting her body.  She stays that way for a long minute, before finally lifting her head to mine.  Those tears that had been on the verge of falling are now trickling down her cheeks.  “I tried.  I wore my casual clothes, the ones I was only allowed to wear at home, and I didn’t fix my hair.”

I would laugh again, if it wasn’t for those damn tears.  I stare at her for a second trying to decide what to say, as her words replay through my head.  Then it hits me; what the fuck?  “What do you mean, you’re only allowed to wear them at home?”

Her face goes pale, and her mouth forms a straight line.  The tears instantly dry up, as she raises a hand to wipe the few that had escaped away.  The mask that I noticed when she first stepped off the bus is back with a vengeance.  “I misspoke; I meant to say they are the clothes I normally wear at home.”

I want to call bullshit, tell her that I know she’s lying.  Instead, I climb from my bike and grab the empty suitcase.  As I walk towards the dumpster, my thoughts are on the woman waiting by my bike.  There is something about her, something that pulls at me, even if she isn’t what I was expecting.  Knowing whatever I’m feeling isn’t something that I want, I have only one option; Nina.

Finding Home

Laura/Shay

I nervously climb on the bike and wrap my arms around Bowie’s large frame, as I settle in behind him.  He smells of leather and tobacco; something about the combination makes me feel warm inside.  I lean closer, bringing my face to his back.  His chocolate brown hair tickles my nose, as the wind catches his waves. 

“Keep your arms tight,” He says in a voice so gruff that I nearly jump, then he tightens my grasp on his waist.

I peek around, just as he releases my hand.  His tattoo covered arms look beautiful next my pale skin. I’m mesmerized by the markings.  Some are dark, almost gruesome; skulls, knives, the Grim Reaper.  Others are proof of his love for his club, the Savage Outlaws MC. Jeremy told me all about the motorcycle club that Bowie is part of.  He also told me to stay the hell away from the other members.  He reminded me that no matter how nice they seemed, the men were all outlaws. 

I am still staring down at the ink, when he pulls from the parking lot.  A moment of fear hits me, but it quickly fades away as his bike weaves in and out of traffic. It is replaced with something so foreign that it took me awhile to place.  I feel alive for the first time in years. I close my eyes and lean into his body, letting my new found freedom fill my soul. Joy, pure joy. 

I should feel terrified right now; I’m on the back of a bike with a man I’ve never met, but I’m not. Everything about Bowie screams danger, but something about having my arms around him as he rides down the road feels right.  It’s like I was made for this, made to be here with him.  As odd as it sounds, it is like I have known him my entire life.  I’m not sure if it’s my brother’s stories or the fact that he is so different from Marcus, but something about him makes me feel safe. 

After what seems like hours of riding, Bowie pulls into a driveway of a small house.  It’s covered in old-fashioned wooden shingles, painted country blue.  The windows are wrapped in white shutters, with small flower boxes perched on their ledges bursting with yellow and orange mums. This place isn’t just a house; it’s a home. 

He cuts the engine off and pats my knee.  “Here’s your stop, babe.”

I climb from the bike, having to hold on to Bowie to keep my balance.  My legs feel like jelly.  “You have a nice house.”

He shakes his head as he climbs from the bike.  “This isn’t my place, darlin’.  It’s Nina’s house. She’s gonna be taking care of you for me.”

“What?” I ask in shock as I stare into his blue eyes. “Jeremy said I was supposed to stay with you.”

For some unexplainable reason, I feel safe with Bowie and I don’t want him to drop me off with someone else.  With all the stories Jeremy has shared about their time in the Army, I feel like I almost know him. Almost. I knew I wouldn’t be with him forever, but I didn’t expect him to leave me right away. 

He shrugs and turns to the house.  As he walks away, he explains.  “Lock asked me if I had someplace safe for you to go.  Nina’s place is about as safe as you can get.”

I follow behind him, doing my best to keep up with his long strides.  My heart is beating a fast rhythm as we walk. I fight the urge to beg him to not leave me, when I ask, “Who’s Nina?”

“Family.” He answers simply, as he steps onto the porch. 

Before he can lift his hand to knock, the door flies open and a beautiful, middle aged Latino woman walks out the door.   She is wearing a fuzzy pink robe and carrying a cup of coffee in one hand. “Bowie, what the world are you doing here at this time of the morning?”

He looks over his shoulder at the still dark sky.  “It’s not morning just yet.”

She smiles as she turns away from us to walk inside the house.  “To me it is.  I have to be at work in an hour. Some of us have real jobs, you know.”

Bowie follows closely behind her, leaving me still standing on the porch.  I stare at the open door, not knowing what to do.  A second later, my question is answered when I hear Bowie call out my new name.  “Shay, get your ass in here.”