Breath on the Wind (17 page)

It would be the first run of the year.  It would mean riding through Alabama.  It would mean riding through some memories.  It was his life, and it wasn’t a choice.

“Yeah.  I’m good.  I’m in.”

“Good.” 

With that, Samuel turned and left the room.  With a heavy sigh Chiz put a sandwich together, and then headed off to the garage to lose himself in the finer workings of a Harley engine for a while.

~o0o~

They took over the escort of the truck, containing the drugs disguised in boxes and the hidden illegal immigrants, in a rolling handover from Dizzy and the Texas Charter, at midday.  The two charters joined briefly on the highway as the Louisiana charter caught up with the cavalcade of the Texas charter, before Dizzy led his crew off at the next interchange, so that they could head back to Ravensbridge.

The truck driver, probably figuring there might be less traffic and less of a police presence on the highways on a Sunday, was pushing hard to fit as many miles as possible into his allotted driving time.  Chiz didn’t mind, traffic was light, but the increased speed required extra concentration.  He’d be tired by the time they were done, but for now it was keeping his mind occupied.  Not so occupied that he didn’t notice the turnoff to the motel he’d stayed at.

The handover to the crew from the Rojas family, who would then begin distributing the people and drugs to their next destinations, went as smoothly as it ever did, but Chiz was on High Alert.  From the moment they spotted the group of men waiting for them, Samuel had become tense. Chiz fed off his president’s state of wariness, and paid careful attention to the men and how they conducted their operation.  He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but obviously Samuel had.

It was late by the time they were done.  Although it wasn’t unheard of for Samuel to want to push to get back to Louisiana in the same day, he voiced no such desire to do so this time.  Instead, they found a motel with a diner nearby, where they could eat and sleep briefly before making their way home.  Chiz tried to resist drawing any parallels with the place he’d stayed at in Alabama, but it was difficult to keep his mind blank.

Instead, as they settled down to eat their meal, after the waitress had delivered their food and moved on to her next customers, Chiz decided to find out what Samuel had noticed, and why he was still so preoccupied.

Chiz took a bite of his burger, chewed and swallowed, before asking, “What’s up, boss?”

Shark didn’t look surprised at the question.  He’d probably noticed Samuel’s unease, too, as had Terry.  But Sinatra’s head snapped up.

Samuel ate a little more of his own burger, then put it back on his plate with a disregard that suggested he’d lost his appetite, and leaned back in his seat.

“I recognized one of those men.  I can’t remember his name, not sure if I was ever given it, but he’s Rojas. Family not crew.  It’s not usual for someone so directly connected to get involved with the handoff.  It’s grunt work, in case the cops hit it.  Somethin’s not right.”

Terry looked intently at Samuel.  “You think we’re gonna have some trouble?”

Samuel scrubbed a palm over his goatee.  “I think we should give Dizzy a heads-up, and I think we’d be foolish not to take a long, hard look at our operation, and make sure we’re solid.  Anyone can get complacent over time.”

Chiz decided he might as well throw his two cents in.  “I think it’s time to fill some seats at our table.  We’re short on bodies.  There’s a couple of hangarounds that I’ve been lookin’ at, soundin’ out.  I think it’s time to take on some more Prospects.”

“Good.”  Samuel nodded.  “We can put the word out cross country, but Dizzy’s still recruitin’ with an eye on full patches.  Anyone who’s lookin’ to join us is headin’ to Texas.”

“There’s two or three guys who are solid, not all kids, either.  They’ll be extra hands for now.”

“Okay.  They’ll need sponsors.  We’ll bring it to the table when we get back.  I ain’t waitin’ ‘til Friday to start people movin’.”  Samuel picked up his burger again, apparently having recovered his appetite now that the beginnings of a plan of action had been decided.

Later, alone in his room, a sense of foreboding blocked out thoughts of Elmo as Chiz fell asleep.

Chapter Fifteen

“Hi, Shane.”

The massive doorman was already on duty at the Pumpkin Patch.  Andy had come straight from the gym, thinking she could make use of the spare hours before her early evening appointment with Selene.

“Hey, boss lady.”  Shane nodded along with his greeting, then leaned closer, and said in a friendly, conspiratorial tone, “You want I should ride out and drag him back?”

Andy paused, then shook her head.  “No.  Thanks for the offer, but no.”  It was as much as anyone had said to her, or that she’d said to anyone, on the matter in two weeks.

Shane grunted and nodded, but didn’t say anything more as Andy made her way into the club.  She bypassed Jackie’s office without knocking, and headed up the stairs to her own office. 

After she’d woken up two weeks ago with the most painful hangover that she’d had for a while, Andy had thrown herself back into her work.  She’d remembered having the epiphany about her house, about the way that she’d constrained her personality, but in the cold light of the day she couldn’t find the energy to do anything about it.  There was nothing so very wrong with it, even though it wasn’t so very right, so she left it as it was. 

Chiz was a holiday romance, a blip, a fling.  She’d been happy with her life before she’d walked into the bar that night, and she would make herself happy with it again.  Andy was doing her best to ignore the fact that something about their week-long encounter had fractured her reality, had revealed something in her, had made her feel something.

It was working, kind of.

Where once Andy had felt contentment, now she felt only a gaping emptiness.  The absence of someone in her life who had come to mean something to her shone a spotlight on how alone she was.  The only thing not swallowed by the abyss was her work.  She was proud of her businesses, justifiably so, she thought.  Now she dedicated even more time to them.  When she wasn’t at the Pumpkin Patch, she was at the gym.  She virtually lived on the treadmill.  Running, with the music from her iPod playing loud enough to drown out every last thought, was infinitely preferable to staring vacantly around her so neatly decorated home.

Andy had taken several more clients on.  At first, after Chiz left, she had been overtly careful.  She’d rather have a small drop in her client’s satisfaction, which was easily rectified, than cancel appointments.  It was better to be too soft than too heavy, and for a short while, she had not trusted herself to have enough concentration for heavy play.

Although it had been obvious that all was not well in her life, for the past two weeks, all of her employees and co-workers had tiptoed around the likely cause.  Until now, it seemed. 

When Jackie and Emma walked into her office, not five minutes after she had settled herself into her chair, Andy knew that today was the day that they’d decided to hold an intervention, or just a general sticking of their collective noses in her business.

She sat back with a heavy sigh.  “I guess there’s no point telling you I don’t want to hear it, so spit it out and let’s get this over with.”

Jackie was the first to speak.  Her usually serene face was creased with concern.  “We’re just worried about you, Andy.  You haven’t been yourself lately.  It’s like you’re just going through the motions of living.  And the only thing we know, is that you met that Chiz guy here, which is the first time in the history of you that we have ever seen or heard of you being involved with someone, and then three days later it’s like someone switched you off.”

“We don’t want to pry.”  Emma scowled at Andy’s sarcastic huff.  “God knows you haven’t given us any reason to.  Everything’s gone on just like before.  But Jackie’s right, it’s like something’s gone out in you.  We’re worried about you, for your sake.”

“I’m fine, guys.  Really.”

“No, you’re not.”  Jackie stated.  “What Emma says is true.  Professionally you haven’t given us any concerns to bring to you, which is why we’re ambushing you like this.  You’ve been avoiding us, unless it’s something about the club.”  Jackie took a step nearer the desk.  “Andy, I like to think that we’re friends.  Everyone who works here likes to think that they mean a little something to everyone else, over and above being another body at the office.  You’ve been shutting us out.”

Emma joined Jackie at the edge of the desk, but she crouched down, folding her forearms over the edge of the desk and resting her chin on the backs of her hands.  It put her below Andy’s eye level.  “Did he hurt you?”  She asked quietly.

Andy closed her eyes and massaged the lower lids, under the lashes, with her fingertips.  It was the closest she could get to rubbing her eyes without smearing her makeup.  This was not a topic she wanted to think about, much less discuss.  She’d been trying very hard not to think about it.  She opened her eyes, and tried to give the two women her most earnest look, all the while hoping that the itch behind her eyes would not develop into actual tears.

“No.  He didn’t.  He was only ever going to be here for a short while.  He left.  That’s all there is to it.”

“No.  It’s not.  Or you wouldn’t be haunting this place like a freaking ghost.”  Jackie had her arms crossed over her chest, and her tone was belligerent.

Andy hadn’t had the energy for this discussion in the first place.  She certainly didn’t have the energy for a fight.  “Look.  It’s okay.  Really.”  Her sigh was heavy.  “I’ll be back to normal soon.”  Maybe if she told herself that enough times it would eventually ring true.

Emma pushed herself up, using the desk for support.  Jackie still didn’t look like she was buying what Andy was selling, but Emma’s expression hadn’t changed from genuine worry.  “Just know that we’re here if you need us.  If you want to get drunk and rave, or cry, or go out and dance your cares away… whatever.  We’re here.”

“Did you just make a Fraggle reference?”  The small movement of her lips as they began to form a smile felt unusual to Andy.

“Yeah.  What of it?”  Emma asked with a grin.

“Nothing.”  Andy shrugged.  “I just didn’t think you were old enough to remember them.”

“The Fraggles talked a lot of sense,” Emma said sagely.

“We’re here, okay?  Should you need us, for any reason at all.”  Jackie had relaxed her posture and thawed.  She was smiling, too.

The little twitch of her lips grew into a full-blown smile, and for the first time in half a month Andy actually believed that she might get her life back to normal.  “It’s the day for Henson references, then?”

“We’re all fans here, boss.”  Emma laughed.

“Yeah, well, find me Kermit, and maybe if I kiss him I’ll end up with the Goblin King.”  She’d smiled and cracked a joke.  Andy felt a little sliver of something like normal.

“Oooh, Bowie in those grey pants.”  Emma shuddered.  “Come to momma.”

“Come on, you horn dog.”  Jackie put her hand on Emma’s arm to give her a gentle push in the direction of the door.  “You’ve got to get ready to pee on someone, and I have a strip club to run.”

Andy gave them a mock salute as Jackie herded Emma out of her office.  Jackie gave her a small smile and a salute in return.  Emma was still waxing lyrical about the benefits of a pair of tight leggings on a well-endowed man as Jackie virtually dragged her down the corridor.

Andy felt a little less alone.  Whatever happened, she still had the abstract family she’d built at the club. 

~o0o~

It was late by the time Andy left the club.  Although Selene had arrived on time for her appointment, one of the other dominants had called in with stomach flu, so Andy had taken their two scheduled clients, rather than cancel the appointments. 

It was often the case that the people who used the dungeon were keeping their visits secret from friends, family or work colleagues, and they put a lot of effort in to making the time available for their visits.  It hadn’t been easy for many of their clients to come to terms with what they needed to find peace within themselves, and Andy felt the responsibility of her role in those people’s lives personally.  It was part of the reason that she was something of a workaholic.

Andy looked up and down the street as she stood outside the club, Shane was still a silent presence by the door, but she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“All quiet on the western front, boss lady.”  The gravel rasp came from her side.

“No trouble at all?”  Andy was becoming uneasy.  The Church had been quiet for a while now.  They hadn’t moved on, they still occupied their premises, and she’d heard the muted sounds of their services as she’d been coming and going, but they hadn’t been out with their placards shouting obscenities, or harassing her employees.

“None.  Not for some time now.”

“I want to be happy about that.”  Andy scanned the street again.

“Yeah, me too, but I’m not.”  Shane did not sound any more pleased than Andy about the voluntary détente that had come about with no apparent reason.  “Hey, you’ve got mine and Joe’s numbers right?”

Andy paused.  That Shane was asking made her think he was worried, really worried.  That gave her gooseflesh, and not in a good way.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Good.  You want some company to your car while it’s quiet?”

“No.  I’ll be fine.”  Andy pulled a small canister out of her handbag and showed it to him.  “I’ve got some pepper spray.  You stay here.”

Shane made a huff of disgust at the tiny pink cylinder.  “That won’t do shit if they want it bad enough.”

“Maybe not.  But it’ll buy me some time to get to my phone.

“I’d feel better if I walked you down.”

“It’s not needed, Shane.”  Andy tucked the canister back into her handbag.  “Joe’s on tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see you in a couple of days, then.”

Andy headed in the direction of the parking lot before Shane could argue further.  The Church was just a bunch of disillusioned crazies who’d gotten bored, and were probably persecuting some other poor bastard.  She’d take the blessing of peace while it lasted.  She wanted her life back to normal, and normal did not include a bodyguard.

She got to her car without incident, although she was alert the whole time that she was walking down the block.  On a Sunday night the street was busier than it was midweek, but it was noticeable that most people were concerned about their Monday morning alarms.  Only when she was sitting in her car with the doors securely locked did she realize that her heart was racing.

Fuck them.  Just fuck them all.  They weren’t going to take her life from her.  Not Chiz.  Not the Church.  Fuck that.  Andy was suddenly beyond angry that her life could be interrupted in so arbitrary a manner.  Not that there was anything she could do about any of it now, except hope that the Church kept their distance, and do her best to forget about Chiz. 

She did some breathing exercises to slow her pulse, and then set off for home. 

The drive home was uneventful, but Andy’s radar spiked as she turned onto her street.  Still feeling Shane’s wariness, she pulled over to the curb, and sat with the engine idling while she tried to figure out what had set her spidey senses tingling.

It took a couple of moments, but eventually she made sense of her instincts.  The street lights in front of her house were out.  There was an area of unusual darkness in the usual vista.

She turned her headlights onto high beams to pierce the ominous patch of night, and pulled out into the street.  She swung wide as she pulled onto her driveway, so that she could strafe the area with light, and hopefully scare away anyone who might be lurking in the shadows.  Sometimes the street lights failed, but it was rare that two consecutive ones would be out.

For a moment Andy sat, simply dumbstruck, in her car.  The first movement that she made was to check that the doors were locked.  Then she went for her bag on the seat next to her, and fished out her phone.  She hit 9-1-1, and waited for the operator to answer.