“I think we should do muffins, scones, and some puff pastries and tarts!” Her voice becomes animated thinking about baking up a storm in the back of the store and I can’t help but smile at her excitement. She has always been the baker in the family.
“Do you just need an oven to make those?” I ask, unsure if we have what it takes to make such things.
“I think so, but I mean hell, we cooked a lot of shit with a fucking lightbulb, Maybelline. We’ll make it work.” She stands, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
“What about your job, Dime? How are you going to work there and here?”
She rolls her eyes dramatically.
“I’m going to quit, duh!”
“Dime!”
“What? I’m sick of smelling like fried chicken all the time! It doesn’t matter how many times I wash my hair, I still smell like the shit!” She grabs the tips of her hair showing as if I can see the grease caught into the cuticles.
I get it, working there sucks but we have to make rent and I don’t know if this place will make anything let alone enough to help pay bills.
“You quit working at Starbucks for your dream—”
I hold my hand out to her. “Ruin didn’t give me much of an option.” The man is scary for one who in this town would tell him no.
“I’m quitting and making baked goods here, Maybelline.” She crosses her arms like a defiant child, a sly smirk on her face.
Sighing loudly, I know it’s not fair that I pursue our dream by myself. She should have a shot too.
“Fine, I’ll ask Ruin about getting an oven in the back and you can play Betty Crocker.” Giving in to her demands, I bend over and grab a couple more books to put onto the shelf. Of course they’re my books so the selection is only fantasy and romance. I think there’s a few horror in there too, all by Stephen King of course.
“Alright, well I’m out of here.” Dime yawns, her arms up in the air as she stretches out her slender limbs.
“Don’t forget to pick my order up from Target, I want those fairy lights!” I point at her, wanting her to make sure and not forget.
“Hey, that hot biker is still sitting outside watching.” She ignores my request but I overlook it, stopping what I’m doing to come see the man she’s talking about. Around the corner, I look out the glass front to find a dark, short-haired biker sitting on a motorcycle and staring at the building.
“You know he’s our neighbor, right?”
Her mouth drops with a light gasp.
“Shut. Up! That’s him?”
Looks like we’ve been ogling the same guy through the blinds. He works on his bike with his shirt off and that big ass tattooed crow on his back is so realistic you can’t help but stare at it and the muscles underneath.
“Yeah…”
“He’s a King,” she mutters, pointing out the obvious.
“Prospect as of right now, but nonetheless,” I huff, turning away from the window before he sees me watching him watch us. Why is he staring at us? Is he spying for Ruin?
“Speaking of bad boys, you know you need to get some security cameras in here, right? This street was just fucked up by a fight from the club.”
“How do you know that?” My tone sharp.
Her movements become erratic as she avoids eye contact and heads toward the front door. Gritting my teeth, I have to keep myself from lashing out like a mother. She’s been to one of the club’s parties, I know it, how else would she know that?
“I’ll bring it up to Ruin,” I mutter under my breath, returning back to my box of books. Sometimes I wish I could dip my feet into the pages and sink into a world away from here only to come up for air when absolutely necessary.
3
Crow
Taking a penny to the back tire of my bike, I make sure I check the tread. I better order another tire soon. I might have shown up knowing how to ride a motorcycle but on our first ride all together it took me a second to figure out there was a formation that everyone rode in. The leader in the front to the left, second being to the right side just behind him, and the third staggering back just a bit and so forth. But if we’re going around corners, we go in a single file. North might have given me a rundown before our first trip, I think he knows I’m new at riding but sees the devotion I have in me to want to be in the club. He’s a good sponsor so far. He still has plenty of time to make shit difficult.
“Crow!” Standing up straight beside my motorcycle, North is just outside the clubhouse looking around the area for me.