Glory (3 page)

“It’s okay. If you ever change your mind, let me know.” He flashed me another one of those dazzling smiles as if to show me what I was turning down and then he moved to the doors. “So will I be seeing you around here then?”

“As long as Hanna doesn’t fire me after today, then yeah, I’ll see you around.” I shot him what I hoped was a schoolgirl smile. “I really appreciate the help.”

The biker didn’t reply as he left. Once he was gone, I finally allowed myself to breathe.

Something scared me about him. His eyes saw entirely too much, and it jarred me to think that maybe he knew my biggest secrets with just one look. I left too then, carrying the bucket and the mop in either hand.

It didn’t occur to me until later that I didn’t even know his name.

* * *

Later, the power was restored, and suddenly, the world was back in working order. People were out and about, enjoying the cool air and the music in Neptune’s for as long as they could before another wave hit us.

Ever since the flares started happening, the world had turned into two different types of people: The recluses and the reckless.

The recluses were those who hid within their homes, never once venturing out into the sunlight for fear of exposure. Even when it was dark out and the power was on, they still protected themselves. I guess in some ways, it was smart. Being protected wasn’t always a bad thing; it meant survival. And yet I felt sorry for those people who always hid in the shadows, forever fearing the unknown. I had lived there for too long myself and in some ways, the start of the solar flares saved me. It forced me to get out and survive.

The reckless were people like Hanna and Glory MC, those who lived in the moment. They said fuck the threat of exposure; they were untouchable. Even amidst a flare, Glory MC rode their Harleys through the red mist that coated the sky without their anti-radiation blankets to cover them. The black leather jackets often did more harm in that they caused them to overheat easily, but since the cuts offered protection from more than just the harmful UV rays, the club still wore them with pride. When you were a member of Glory MC, there was always a threat of danger, no matter if the sun went down.

The first of the flares marked a new ruler in town. With the destruction of power structures, different societies and leaders were seizing control. The world was slowly climbing back from its ruin and as we formed different societies, or Wards, as we called them, each Ward gained a new ruling authority. The current vicinity we lived in was dubbed Ward Four and the top dog was no other than Roth “Knuckle” Haste, president of Glory MC. With his access to resources and the way he emanated power, people listened.

Seeing him with my own eyes convinced me that all the rumors of him were true. He was as big as they said he was. And as bad and as deadly, too. There were only a few things that mattered to Knuckle—money, loyalty, and the club and if you messed with any of those three, there was a hefty price to pay.

My best friend, Seven Douglass, was so intrigued by the motorcycle club lifestyle that she had made it her business to know everything about them. To her, it was no different than staying on top of political news. Except these weren’t politicians you were listening to, it was old world criminals.

The encounter in the men’s bathroom left me rattled more so than it should have. Who was this Green-Eyed Biker with the tats and lip piercing? The question nagged me until it became all I could think of. If anyone knew though, it would be Seven. She knew details about the MC like an encyclopedia. I wanted to ask her, but I also didn’t want to tip her into thinking that something was going on with me and this mystery biker, no matter how much I wished that were true.

After my first shift had ended, I spent another half hour in Hanna’s back office signing a bunch of employment papers. Following that, I headed straight home for some rest. My feet were rioting against me in my ruined heels. I wobbled as I walked from my parked car to the house and sighed as soon as I kicked off the instruments of torture. The empty canteen of water I brought with me everywhere was tossed on the nearby counter, along with my car keys.

I called out for Seven, hearing a responding holler from the upstairs bathroom. Taking the steps two at a time, I climbed until I reached the door and slammed it open.

Seven let out a yelp. “Jesus, Indy. I could’ve cut myself!”

“Oh, please. I called your name from downstairs. You knew I was coming up here.”

She shot me a smile in the reflection of the mirror. With her back towards me, I could see one exposed leg propped up against the sink, covered in shaving cream. As our eyes met again in the mirror, my smile faltered just for a second as Seven ran a razor over her calves, the foam piling up on the edge.

The thing in her hands brought me back to a bad place and I struggled to mentally push it back. I couldn’t go back there right now.
Not ever.

Seven smiled sadly at me as if she could sense my train of thought. “How’d your day go?” she asked cheerfully, choosing to ignore the big elephant in the room.

I jumped back on track, happy to be escaping the dead end. “I got a job,” I told her.

“Really? Where?”

“At Neptune’s.”

There was a small jingle as the razor Seven dropped clinked against the ceramic basin. Her eyes were wide, the cerulean blue brighter than any ocean. “You’re kidding me!”

“I shit you not.”

Shaving long forgotten, she crossed the distance between us. A plop of shaving cream dropped on the rug as she settled beside me. “Was Glory MC there?” She was practically buzzing with excitement.

I nodded. “That’s actually why I want to talk to you. I met someone but I don’t know who he is.”

“Is he hot?”

I laughed. Of course that was the first standard question a girl had to ask. “Kinda.”

“Was Knuckle there too?”

My mind drifted back to the scene Hanna and Knuckle made as Glory MC had rolled in. Hanna looked like a small nymph compared to Knuckle’s immense size, and as he curled Hanna around him, the heat they gave off was enough to rival the flares. “Yeah, he was there.” But he wasn’t the one I was interested in.

“You’re not telling me something . . . ”

My lips curled into a smile. “All right,” I began, heart beginning to thump loudly in my chest, another odd reaction that was so unlike me. I was normally so blasé about men. But for some reason, I couldn’t get this biker out of my head. “I met one of them and we chatted a bit.” Although the word “chatted” seemed far too tame to describe what happened between us.

Seven’s eyes sparkled with interest. “And?”

I recounted the entire “conversation” to her. After I was done, Seven was clutching at her head as if all this would make her head explode. “It’s Ian!” she exclaimed. “It has to be Ian Haste.” At my confused expression, she added, “Knuckle’s son.”

I tested his name on my lips. “Ian Haste.” Of course he had a sexy name to go along with his sexy body.

“Yes!” Seven exclaimed, dimples flashing as she grinned. “The club calls him Hastie. I’m a little jealous that you got to meet him before me.” She spoke of Glory MC as if they were celebrities or gods worthy of worship. I guess if anyone were considered to be celebrities in Ward Four, Glory MC would fit that bill. They were recognizable and well known, but I wouldn’t say they were godly.

Devils.

They were devils, capable of tempting women straight into hell.

“So now that you’re working at Neptune’s are you going to turn into one of those sweet butts?” Seven asked.

“What?”

“A sweet butt,” Seven said again. Yeah. That was what I heard the first time, but I just wanted to make sure. Sweet butts were women who hung around or lived at the clubhouse. They were often considered property of the club.

“I’m not going to become a sweet butt.”

Seven looked skeptical.

“Oh, come on. We talked.
Once.
In a men’s bathroom, no less. I doubt I made a good first impression.”

“Hey, you never know. He may have some kind of fetish,” she said with a wink. Laughing, I elbowed her. If Hastie did have one though, I was interested to know.

“So can I come to Neptune’s with you tomorrow?” The question shouldn’t have surprised me. How could I tell Seven that I worked at Glory MC’s clubhouse and not expect her to want to see it for herself?

“No way. I have to actually work, you know.” With her presence there, that would be impossible. I had to show Hanna that I was serious about this job.

Seven stuck her tongue out at me and returned to apply more shaving cream to her unfinished leg. “You suck.”

“You swallow,” I countered as I left her to finish, shutting the bathroom door between us.

Her voice echoed through the door. “Only because I’m too lazy to change the sheets!”

Hooting with laughter, I turned towards my bedroom, thinking of the information I just received.

So Green-Eyed Biker had a name. Ian Haste.

Hastie.

It was really a shame that that was all I knew about him.

* * *

I didn’t see Hastie again the next day or even the day after that. And that was a damn relief. Our encounter had unsettled me and I didn’t want anyone, not even Seven to know that it had rattled me so much.

Neptune’s turned out to be not as bad as I thought despite the encounter in the men’s bathroom. Hanna was nice enough to show me the ropes and by the third day, she allowed me to man the bar myself. It proved that hard work really did pay off. And now my ruined Louboutins wouldn’t be for nothing.

Music was playing in full swing now, blaring from the speakers. The a/c was finally on, bringing much needed cool air to the entire bar. I sang along with Hanna as I served my latest customer, and she and I even did a little dance to Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me” when body shots were called. Hanna didn’t seem to mind the shots I was knocking back as quickly as I was dishing them out. It brought excitement to the night, and to be honest, it made the long work hours tolerable. I was quickly learning that I could love this job if it was always this carefree and wonderful.

However, there was still that trickle of unease knowing that Glory MC could roll in at any moment. Why hadn’t they returned yet? Was it normal for them to come and go so easily? I’d been meaning to ask Hanna about her relationship with Knuckle, but bringing the subject up wasn’t a simple thing to do with your new boss. I jumped in anyway figuring I could blame it on being drunk if she refused to answer. “So, how long have you been seeing Knuckle?” My question seemed to take Hanna by surprise because she paused midway of bringing a beer to her lips and laughed like I had said the funniest thing. “What’s so funny?” I asked, half laughing myself.

“Nobody is “seeing” Knuckle if that’s what you’re saying.”

I let my confusion show clear on my face.

She sighed, wrapping her arm around me and pulled me close. “I’m just fucking him, darling. No one owns that man.” Hearing the crudeness in her words set me back at bit. Did she not love him? And if not, why let him use her beloved dive bar for his own endeavors?

“But he comes here often to see you. Neptune’s acts as his clubhouse. Don’t you think that gives you some say in his business?”

Hanna shook her head, red tendrils spilling over her face. “It’s not as easy as that. With the flares, space is limited. I think of it as an extension of the business. Glory MC provide the means to supply my bar and kitchen and in return, they use it as their clubhouse. But that doesn’t give me a way into the club. I don’t ever get involved in their business.”

“Then how did you two, you know . . . get together?”

“We have a natural chemistry,” she admitted. “But it’s not love.”

Not love, huh? That was a little more anti-climatic than I was expecting. “Seems a little bit lonely . . . ”

Hanna sighed. “Look, you haven’t worked here for long so you don’t know me yet. But let me tell you that I don’t need a man to make me feel complete. And neither do you. This partnership is working for me at the moment, but I’m not stupid enough to believe it’ll last.”

“Are you talking about Neptune’s as Glory MC’s clubhouse or your affair with Knuckle?”

“Is there a difference?”

That was enough to have me shutting up and dropping it.

Hastie

The last three days had to be the worst of my life. Club business was a brutal thing, but last night proved to be one of the worst nights in Glory MC’s history.

We discovered a snitch amongst us and the thing about Glory MC was that we had zero tolerance for rats. The guy’s name was Fletcher and he had been one of our own. When word got out that he was badmouthing Glory MC behind our backs, gathering evidence of murder with the intent to take us down, the club had been forced to act. It seemed that Fletcher believed that Knuckle was responsible for the murder of one of our own and had covered it up, not wanting the rest of the club to know about it. None of us believed our prez was capable of such a betrayal.

Since the start of the solar flares six years ago, the world ceased to have any government. There were no more cops trolling the streets to keep people in order, so people turned to us because we kept living as we had been. We held no fear. We weren’t governed by any rules. We lived our lives our way, regardless of what anyone else thought. It was just that now people were finally experiencing our way of living. And actually
enjoying it.
If you wanted to survive in this post-flare world then you had to do whatever it took, and sometimes, it wasn’t always about being good and right. The club had never shied away from threats, and we weren’t going to start now.

Glory MC wholly embraced the outlaw motorcycle club lifestyle. We lived and breathed for the patches on our back. And nobody was ever going to change that for us. Especially not some traitor.

Knuckle found out about Fletcher’s betrayal and suddenly, he was a walking dead man. Fletcher fled, causing us to chase him down. The club went on the road for three days despite the blistering heat to hunt him.