Bringing his eyes back up to mine, he just stares at me, the silence of the room and the cold look in his eyes piercing my confidence.
“Well, let me show you where you’re staying.” He points toward the front door that’s just behind me. Thankful for the distraction of us, I unintentionally sigh loudly.
“That sounds awesome, I’m exhausted.” Moving the hair off my neck, and adjusting my hat, I follow him to the door. The back of his leather cut now in full view, the colors of his club and name are on full display. Fallen Gods MC of Georgia.
Walking outside, the sun is fully shining, the heat instantly making my forehead and upper lip sweat. It’s way hotter here than LA, maybe it’s because of the humidity? He turns left, catching me off guard, I thought I would be following him in my car to a place I’d be staying but he walks across the street toward an old-looking gas station. Two old rusted pumps sit out front. Passing them, it looks like they haven’t been used in years.
He raises his hand toward the garage attached to the station and I peel my eyes away from the horror movie gas pumps.
“That’s the painting bay, it’s nicer inside than the outside gives it credit for.” The garage doors are gray and rusty and haven’t looked like they’ve been opened in a while, I can only hope the inside is in better condition. “And just above that is a living space, it’s small but cozy.” He points upward and my eyes follow in the direction spotting a couple windows just above.
Pulling out a set of keys from his jeans, he unlocks the front door to the station, and we both walk in. The first thing I notice is a desk with papers spread all over it. There’s nothing else in here, not racks of junk food or drinks that you would normally find in a gas station. I mean, there’s a counter to the left but it’s bare.
“How long has this gas station been closed?”
“Awhile. There’s no gas in the pumps, so anybody that lives around Forsaken Springs knows it’s shut down,” he explains while walking into a hallway.
He stops at a wooden door and unlocks it, opening it, a set of dark stairs await. There’s no light helping you make the climb but at the top, there’s some brightness, that must be where the apartment is. A bunch of motorcycles roar by, the old windows of the station rattling like they might pop out any second.
“Some of the brothers from the club hang around here, most are harmless but keep your head down and you’ll be fine.” I can’t help the raising of my left brow, he’s basically telling me his club has some assholes in it. Doesn’t sound anything like my father’s club. None of the men would mess around or hurt someone that was working for them.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure him. I was raised by a club and have seen other bikers come and go during trips. I tend to stay away from those that have a bad vibe and it’s been working for me since.
“Right, I forget you know how it is.” He waves his hand toward the stairs that look like something out of the old house of Beetlejuice, before raising a set of keys between us.
I take them and look at the cobwebbed stairs. I’d find a broom and clean out the spiders but I’m so tired I don’t think I’d give a shit if a spider slept in my hair at this point.
“Thanks,” I say behind a yawn, attempting to stifle it behind my palm. I don’t know how my brother and dad ride for days like they do because I swear I’m about to die of exhaustion. They must have cocaine or something because I feel like I’m going to be sick if I don’t lay down now.
“Well, I’ll let you settle in. If you need anything, just ask for—”
“Shivs?” I cut him off with a sassy smirk, and that cute smile I remember from when we were kids crosses his face and hits me in all the right places. I bite my cheek and look away, I haven’t felt this type of way in forever.
“Yeah, Shivs,” he says with amusement. “I got you, D.”
Hauling a bag over my shoulder and two boxes stacked in my arms, I carefully feel for the steps in the dark, taking one by one until I come to the top. I slide the boxes down the front of my body until they hit the floor and shift the bag off my shoulder, letting it plop down. Fucking everything hurts, I just want to sleep. Hands on my lower back, I try and stretch the muscles while looking around the apartment. There are two windows with blinds to the far left, letting slits of sunshine slip through and give the room a rusty-looking color. It smells of stale cigarettes and dust. I jerk the blinds up so I can see the apartment better. Dust flickers into the air like dancing bunnies and I can’t help but cough. Waving my hand around to clear the air, the room comes into better view. I’m standing in a small kitchen with an old-fashioned fridge, sink, and counter with a stove next to it. There’s a glass table with two chairs that look like something from the seventies, and a bronze chandelier hanging just above. I look to the walls for a switch to turn it on and notice the walls are brown panels stretched with cobwebs across them. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a switch just by the doorway to the stairs. Finally. The floor creaks beneath me as I walk across the room and flip the switch. The chandelier flickers before finally turning on and illuminating the kitchen in a yellow glow.