"Do you want one?" I asked after lighting up my second cigarette. I was starting to feel better as the nicotine coursed through my veins. Happy shook his head. "That's new."
"Haven't smoked menthol," he paused and looked at the rings on his hands. "Just haven't smoked them in a while."
I told myself not to look much into what he had almost said. Menthols could get old pretty quickly. He had been smoking regular red labels when I met him but would frequently smoke some of my menthols. Stop, I told myself. I checked my watch, wondering how much longer it was going to take.
"He's probably fine." Happy offered. He hadn't said much since joining me on the ground. I nodded and took a long drag. I didn't know what to say to him. He had ridden almost an hour from Charming to bring me a pack of smokes? It didn't make any sense. He had been such an asshole since I saw him riding onto the lot of Teller Morrow. I paused my thoughts. That wasn't right. I was the one who left and ignored his calls and texts. Aside from accusing me of getting Kip to prospect with SAMCRO, he hadn't done anything overly rude.
"Why did you come here?" My voice came out as a whisper. I was torn about starting a conversation with him. There was a good chance it would bring all of the pain crashing back down on me. Happy looked up at me, his brow furrowed.
"When I found out where you were, I figured you wouldn't be able to get them yourself." He took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. "I also remembered finding you in the middle of an attack one night. Just doesn't seem like something you should go through alone."
My mouth fell open just enough to drop the cigarette onto my leg. I immediately regretted wearing shorts as the cherry burnt my leg. Happy chuckled as I jumped up and smacked my leg. I was embarrassed and still trying to process what he'd said.
"It's not fucking funny." I slammed my palms onto the hood of Kip's truck and lowered my head between my arms. The wasted cigarette was still smoking on the ground by my feet. "Why? Why do you give a damn about what I'm going through, Happy? After you left like that? After you made sure that you leaving me hurt like hell? Do you know what that was like for me?"
"Kat, stop yelling." Happy's tone was even. He didn't stand up or move to try and stop me from continuing. I smacked the hood of the truck again.
"You know how when you're riding and it's pouring rain? You pull over underneath a bridge and everything stops? Shit is still going on in front of you and behind you but not shit is touching you. When you left, I was right back in that down pour." Happy stood up. "It was always there, all of this shit. It was just easier with you there. Do you understand? When you told me that it meant nothing, that everything you'd said had been a lie, I felt like I deserved that shit. I felt like it was the world's way of paying me back for things I had done."
I knew I was rambling. It was something the therapist had told me I did when I was agitated. I probably would have kept going if I hadn't felt Happy's arms wrap around me. I pushed away from him, my palms on his chest. He didn't let go. I balled my hands into fists and pounded them on him. He pulled me closer. Finally, my fight ran out. Happy put his hand on the back of my head and slowly started to stroke my hair as I cried into the side of his neck.
"I'm sorry, Kat." He whispered. I gently shook my head but I couldn't pull away. I finally felt safe. Despite the pain, despite wanting to hate him for how he left, I never felt safer than in that moment. I was able to relax and let go of all the stress, all the anxiety that had been building up inside of me. The moment lasted maybe two minutes before my phone started vibrating. We pulled apart slowly, neither quite ready for the moment to end. As the receptionist told me that Kip was out of surgery, Happy took a few steps towards his bike.
"Thank you." I said. Happy paused for a moment and looked at me. He didn't speak or wave goodbye. I watched his back as he walked away and got on his bike. I felt myself begin to smile as he rode away.
"Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?" Kip had just begun to wake up when I sat down in a chair beside the bed. He grunted and closed his eyes again. I didn't rush him. I leaned back in the chair and let my mind be still. Kip was okay. That was all that mattered, everything else could wait.
By late afternoon, I was pulling the truck back into Kip's driveway. He was doped up and had not stopped talking since we left the doctors office. He talked about his ex girlfriend Cherry, his motorcycle, how he felt his prospect year was going and everything in between. I didn't have to do much beyond nod occasionally and throw in a random yeah or oh. Despite how annoying he was, I knew that once the initial meds wore off, he would be in a much different mood. For that reason alone, I let him go on and on.
"You could stay, you know? In Charming. I don't like that you live in Seattle. It's too far away." Kip declared as I helped him inside the house. I nodded. "Will you think about it? Please?"
"Yeah, I'll think about it. Right now, we need to get you to bed, okay?" I guided him down the hall and pushed his bedroom door open with my foot. He sighed dramatically but sat on the bed without fighting me. "I'm keeping the door open so you just have to yell if you need anything, ok?"
"Thanks, Kat. You're the best." He yawned and started squirming around on the bed. I sat at the foot of the bed for a little while, just watching him sleep. An irrational part of my brain thought that if I walked out of the room he would stop breathing. It reminded me of what some women said they thought after they had their first child. After my back started aching, I quietly left Kip's room, making sure to leave the door open. I checked the locks on both doors and settled in on the couch with a heated blanket. It was particularly cold but when I laid on top of the blanket, it seemed to soothe my back.
As I stared up at the ceiling, I tried to make sense of everything. My emotions were all over the place. Amongst the happiness of spending time with Kip, I was also sad that I would have to leave soon. Where I was relieved to have had a decent conversation with Happy, I was also scared that it would end up making me miss him more. Underneath every emotion, there was also anger. I was angry at myself for choices I had made leading me to be unemployed and three months behind on rent. I was angry at Happy for hurting me and refusing to leave me alone after seeing me in the parking lot of TM. I was angry with Kip for not recognizing what he was capable of in life. I was also mad at the damn Army for chewing both of us up and spitting us out. I hated being so angry. I missed being carefree and easy going.
Kip was sore and irritable for several days after the surgery. He wanted to get back up on his feet so he could help the club with something that was going on. I didn't bother asking what it was, I knew he couldn't tell me. After a week, he was back on his feet. He still couldn't ride, so he took the truck and spent more and more time at the clubhouse. I knew that he didn't need my help anymore when he spent three nights in a row in the bunk room.
"Kat, you can stay here as long as you want." Kip said over dinner on one of the rare nights that he came home. I set my fork down and looked up at him. "I've just been busy. The club is dealing with a lot right now and we're a little shorthanded after Tacoma went back up to Washington."
"It is time for me to go, Kip. I've got things I need to take care of back home." I pushed my broccoli around my plate. He didn't know that I had lost my job. He thought I was just taking some time off.
"You're probably right." His voice wavered a little and I wondered what he was hiding from me. I hadn't asked about the cut above his eye or why had was moving a little stiffer than usual. I had spent enough time with Happy to know that being part of the club came with inherent risk. If he wanted to tell me about it, he would. He must have seen the worry written all over my face. "Don't worry, Kat. I'm safe."
"Safe is a relative term when you're in a criminal gang, Kip." I offered him a small smile to let him know I was half joking. He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know. You're just a group of motorcycle enthusiasts."
"Exactly." He said with a chuckle followed immediately by a wince. If my presence in Charming would have kept him safe, I wouldn't have thought twice about staying. Unfortunately, I had to accept that he'd made his decisions about the club and everything that went with it long ago. It wasn't my place to judge him or try and convince him otherwise. "When are you leaving?"
"In the morning. The weather is supposed to be pretty mild." I explained. He nodded with a slight frown. "We'll do better about staying in touch, okay?"
"Good." He offered me a half smile as he pushed his chair back from the table. "I've got to get back."
"I guess this is goodbye then." I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around him. He kissed the top of my head and gave me a little squeeze.
"Nah, I'll make my way up to Seattle soon." I highly doubted that considering how things seemed to be going with SAMCRO, but I smiled and nodded as though it was a done deal. His grin was toothy and bright as he walked out of the house. I felt my chest tighten a little, wishing I could convince myself to stay.
Just as I told Kip, I left the next morning. My heart was heavy but I just rode harder to keep my mind off of it. I lucked out and didn't run into any police or state troopers. If I had, I probably would have been arrested, or at least heavily fined for how fast I was riding. Aside from an hour nap at a truck stop, I rode straight through. Seattle weather was only predictable if you thought it was always raining. I wasn't going to miss a chance to ride completely dry for a couple more hours of crappy sleep.
"Hey. I just wanted to let you know that I made it home. You're probably busy so just text me when you get this." I ended the voice message and slid my phone back in my pocket as I stared at the red eviction notice on my door. I wasn't surprised but the timing wasn't great. I only had one more day to get my stuff out. My bank account had less than a hundred dollars in it, so I didn't have many options. The lights didn't turn on after I tried flipping the switch a few times. Defeated, I dropped my bags by the front door and headed to bed. There was nothing I could do about my situation after eleven o'clock at night.
The next morning, I started packing all of my clothes and what few personal belongings I had into duffle bags and back packs. My stomach was growling loudly but I didn't have the time or money to deal with it before I figured out a place to stay. After racking my brain for options, I started going through the contacts on my phone. I made a couple calls but no one answered. Finally, I tried my old boss from the job before last.
"Hey, Emily. It's Katerina." I sat down on the couch and was thankful it had come with the apartment so I didn't have to find somewhere for it to go.
"Kat! How are you?" Emily was always nice and had tried her best to keep me employed at the restaurant. She looked the other way when I was routinely late after fighting traffic across the city from my therapist's office. She always told me how important it was to go to the sessions. One night after closing we shared some cake that the kitchen had left over. Emily had told me about her brother who had been a Marine. She said that he told everyone he was fine and kept them in the dark. They didn't know how bad he was until they found him after he'd hung himself in his garage. So, she overlooked my tardiness on days I had therapy. It wasn't until an incident with a guest that she had to let me go. I never blamed her and she stayed in touch for several months after I was fired.
"Not that great. I had to go to California for a few weeks to take care of my brother. I came back and found an eviction notice on my front door." I left out being fired from the bar that I'd been working at and being flat broke.
"Oh no. I hate to hear that. Is your brother okay?" She always cared so much about other people. She reminded me of my mom in that way.
"Yeah, he's fine. He just had surgery and needed some help for a while. I was just wondering if you still had that storage building off of Central." I tried to keep it casual.
"I do but there's hardly any room for furniture." She sounded genuinely deflated from not being able to help.
"No, no. I don't need to store any furniture. This place was furnished. If I could just keep a couple duffle bags there for a week or two until my new place is ready, I would be super grateful." I felt a twinge of guilt about lying to Emily but I knew if she had the whole truth, she'd be offering up her guest room and the whole nine yards.
"Oh! Yeah! That's not a problem at all. I'll text you the combination to the lock. I'm swamped at the restaurant or I would meet you out there." I heard her kids calling for her in the background.
"Not a problem. My schedule is pretty crazy at the bar. I'll just swing by and drop those off today before my shift. Thanks so much, Emily." I was really racking up the lies on the one phone call. I told myself it was to keep Emily from worrying. Really, I was just embarrassed. Emily sent me the combination almost immediately after we ended the call. It was going to take more than one trip on my bike, so I went ahead and headed down with the largest of the four bags.
I missed a call as I was riding over with the third bag. Riding with duffle bags on a sports bike was precarious so I didn't risk answering the call on my headset. I needed all of my attention and energy on balancing the weight of the bag and navigating some of the less maintained streets of Seattle.
"Not blocking your number anymore?" I asked Happy, pulling the storage unit door closed.
"Nah. What was that noise?" He sounded like he had just woken up. It used to be my favorite time to hear him speak.
"Storage door. Just doing some Spring cleaning." The last thing I needed was Happy knowing that I was struggling. I had to keep some of my pride intact. "Did you need something?"
"Just seeing if you made it back to Seattle yet." He said with a yawn. I told him that I'd gotten back the night before. "You doing okay?"
"Yeah, I'm just busy catching up on stuff that I couldn't take care of from Charming." I took a deep breath and looked up at the clouded sky. "I appreciate you checking on me but please don't call me again, Happy. It just confuses things."
"It doesn't have to be confusing, Kat. I know I messed up." I closed my eyes tightly, wishing I wouldn't have called him back. "There was-"
"Happy. Please. Stop." I felt my heart rate starting to climb quickly. "I can't do this. I'm sorry." I ended the call and turned the phone off. I kicked the storage unit door and screamed. There was no way I could think about picking things back up with him. I was going to be homeless in less than twenty-four hours and had no job. I was quickly becoming a PTSD statistic and there was no way I was going to also become a woman that relied on a man for everything.
Two weeks later, I walked out of a motorcycle dealership with my head hanging low. I had been staying at a homeless shelter and parking my bike in garages that I could ride around the gates of. I had interviewed for a couple jobs but was still waiting to hear something. I was desperate. I knew that my bike would go for at least a few thousand, despite the higher than average mileage. It pissed me off that I had to resort to selling the one thing that still gave me some happiness but I was out of options. When the dealership offered me four-thousand dollars, I was insulted. After a lot of back and forth, including me begrudgingly using my veteran status, they agreed to forty-five hundred. I couldn't bring myself to do it but the guy seemed to feel sorry for me. He gave me twenty-four hours to change my mind.
I knew what I had to do. Since I didn't know when I would ever be able to ride again, I headed out to the mountains. I wanted to have one last run through the switch-backs and sweeping turns before giving it over to the dealership. I was on my second run up the mountain when I saw a chopper behind me. It was rare to see anything beyond sport bikes and touring bikes running the pass. I knew there was no way he would keep up through the twists and turns, so I sped up to get away from the droning of his exhaust.
"What the fuck?" I yelled, throwing my visor up and looking over at the rider who had shown up on my left. He was way too close to my bike and I knew he was pushing his chopper. One bad lean angle and he could take us both out. He didn't seem to care. I shook my head and dropped a gear, pushing myself through the turns faster than I normally cared to. My right knee dragged across the asphalt on one particularly tight turn. Once the road straightened out for a couple hundred yards, the chopper caught back up with me. I was coming up on a black work van fast, so I had to hope that he wouldn't run into the back of my bike as I slowed down quickly.
He stayed right on my back tire and the van wasn't speeding up any time soon. I flipped him the bird and moved to pass the van, double yellow line be damned. The van swerved to the left, cutting me off. I knew something wasn't right. My vision started to tunnel. I didn't have many options for at least another mile when the road opened up to four lanes. I decided to back off the van, taking my chances with the chopper. We were about two car lengths off the van's back bumper when the rear door opened.
There were two men standing in the back of the van. One had a large metal pipe while the other one was holding a rifle. I ran through every prayer and every curse word I could imagine as the van slowed down. The last thing I saw before being thrown into the air off my bike was the metal pipe flying out of the man's hands. The pipe hit me somewhere, maybe in the chest or the head. I lost control of the bike and came down hard on the ground. I saw my bike flying in the air above me just before everything went black.