Chapter 2: Snake In the Grass
Clay dismissed church, halting Juice before he got out the door. When Chibs turned around, Clay motioned for him to close the doors, "You stay, too. Who's the girl?"
"Huh?" Juice's auto-response earned him an annoyed huff from Clay, but the club's President didn't repeat himself, he just stared, waiting. Chibs shifted his weight from one foot to the other curious for the answer also.
"Oh, um…That was a girl I knew back…uh, back in New York."
"New York ain't exactly around the corner. What's she doin' here?"
Juice shrugged before he could stop himself. Shit! He hated doing little kid crap like that in front of Clay. He wished he'd had time to prepare something to say, to be more confident. "I don't know yet. We got called in before she said much."
"So, you didn't invite her?" It was more a leading statement than a question.
Clay tapped the table thinking, his big fingers thumping loudly. Juice tried not to shuffle his feet but standing still was not his thing, especially when all he wanted to do was get out of there and go talk to Ronnie.
"Think she's a plant?"
"What? No!" Juice averted his eyes under Clay's heavy stare. Turning to Chibs he saw the same suspicion on is face. "No way."
"How long has it been since you seen her?"
"Years, but-"
Clay sniffed, rubbing the new growth on his chin, "Then vet her out."
Juice's stomach lurched. Clay dismissed him with a flick of his wrist, "Do what you do. Dig into her. ATF's still sniffin' around and now she shows up? I don't like it."
When Juice didn't respond right away, Clay lifted his eyes to look at him, his brow and forehead folded into rolls. "There a problem?"
Chibs clapped Juice on the shoulder, snapping him out of whatever thoughts he was having. "No," he jumped into motion, leaving the room as fast as he could without stumbling with Chibs right behind him.
Chibs walked with him, his hand moving from his shoulder to the back of his neck squeezing roughly, "Ya alrigh' wit' this?"
"Yeah!" Juice frowned as if the question was ridiculous, a lousy cover for the tension Chibs could see in his jaw. "Pssh! Of course."
Chibs already knew he was having some sort of internal conflict with it, there was no point in pursuing him to admit it right now. "Ya goin' ta give her a chat, then?"
Juice nodded, heading for the crowded bar.
"Hey, sweetness." Trina came up behind him, happy to have found him again and even more pleased to see him alone. "Where are you headed," she asked, snaking an arm around his chest.
Juice peeled away from her distracted, his eyes scanning the smoke-filled lounge, "Just lookin' for somebody."
Trina sucked her teeth, "That Mexican chick?"
Juice frowned slightly at the tone. She's not Mexican. "Yeah."
"She left…right after you came inside."
"Oh."
"Yep, got in her ugly ass truck and left." She cooed, her smile at his disappointment was nothing short of jubilant. "Oh, don't look like that," she stepped closer, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can make you feel better."
"Uh, not tonight." Juice headed out for the garage. He needed someplace quiet to start digging up dirt on his oldest friend. "I got work to do."
0.o.0.o.0
Raniyah didn't know which noise actually woke her, her phone vibrating on the nightstand or the super light tapping on the door of her motel room. Picking up her phone, she squinted at the screen. The number was unknown. 8:06 am. She had slept in but it was too early in the morning for housekeeping. The weird light tapping had her scrambling into her leggings and reaching for her handgun, releasing the safety. She approached the door as the light tapping began again and her phone vibrated. The peephole was half painted over but she could see the distinct profile of Jay. Tossing her gun into a bag by the door, she haphazardly covered it with a head scarf. Ignoring the flutters in her stomach, she unfastened the locks and opened the door.
Juice raised his phone up for her to see it was him calling her, "You should answer your phone."
"That was you? How did you-?"
He let a smile toy on the corners of his lips, "Charming really is small." Ducking his head, he stepped past her into the dim light of her motel room. It wasn't the nicest place to stay in Charming and he wondered why she chose it. It was kind of stale smelling and had double beds. She clearly had slept in the one farthest away from the door and he could see that she brought her own pillowcases and blanket. Yanking open the curtains, she smiled at him in the brighter light, "What are you doing here?"
"You left last night."
"I know." Rubbing her face, she checked for any crust in the corners of her eyes.
"How come?" He sprawled out in the armchair by the bed, tucking his laptop carrying case under the table and unbuttoning his cut. Ronnie stared, last night she wasn't focused on his new look. The fact was, she had spent most of their brief time together not looking at him because of her nerves. The severity of his impossibly thin mohawk and the tattoos that were now visible on his arms below the sleeves of his shirt screamed 'bad boy in the house'. He carried a good 200 lbs on his frame, his chest standing up and out against the plain white t-shirt. Probably for the first time in her whole damn life she was speechless. Gone was her easygoing friend with the mop of curls that she knew and in his place was this grown-ass man, all hard edges and drive but still sporting the same dazzling smile. Also, at that moment, she remembered she was only wearing a sports bra for a top.
"So? Why'd you leave?" Juice was still waiting for an answer.
She clapped her hand over her mouth, her words slightly muffled, "Can a girl brush her teeth first?" She batted her eyelashes comically over the top of her hand, her cheeks high and he let a small smile tip up his lips in response, shrugging. Spinning on her heel, she gathered up her toiletries bag and a couple of clothing items, disappearing into the bathroom. His smile disappeared as he watched the door close, feeling conflicted. Damn, everything felt natural with her. Shaking it off, he got busy. Standing, he looked around the room - he had to do what he came to do.
Starting with her purse, he rummaged around, looking through her wallet for anything that would tell him anything contradictory about why she was there. He listened for the still running water before picking up her phone, it was locked. He tried her birth date and the last four of her social security number. No luck. But the screen did show the names from the last four texts and the first few words of each message - none of it looked suspicious. Grabbing her overnight bag, he riffled through it, feeling for thumb drives, notepads, or another phone. He felt like a piece of shit, checking the corners of her suitcase for hidden compartments, feeling the liner for a place she could store files. Going back to her purse, he searched her makeup bag and then patted down her jacket hanging on the rack, his guilty fingers digging into every pocket. Hearing the water stop, he wondered how much more time he had. A small bag on the floor near the door caught his attention. With one more pause to hear her movements behind the flimsy excuse for a bathroom door, he placed his hand inside the bag uncovering the 9-millimeter Sig Micro Compact. What the hell, Ronnie? It was a chick-sized weapon but it held enough rounds to put a guy away and he noted that the safety was off. The click of the bathroom door's lock forced him to toss it back in the bag before he could snap a picture of the serial number.
He was standing casually with his back against the door when she emerged, a little too beautiful for eight o'clock in the morning, especially considering that her makeup bag had been out there with him. Her golden skin was glowing and she never needed mascara for her dark eyelashes. She had pulled her thick hair up in a high ponytail, the natural loose waves coming down framing her face. The olive v-neck t-shirt she chose and her black skinny jeans presented her full chest and flared hips as perfectly as possible. Her old-school white Vans had black laces and small gold hoops dangled from all three holes in each ear. Her wrist carried a simple gold herringbone bracelet and her right hand a single gold coil-shaped ring covering her whole middle finger. She had brought an East coast vibe to Charming from head to toe and his dick told him that he missed it. Finding somewhere else to put his eyeballs he thought, I've been looking at these skinny ass crow eaters for too long.
"You hungry?"
She laughed, dimples popping, "Are you new?"
Juice smiled, remembering that Ronnie had the appetite of a grown man when she wanted to. "Let's go."
"Yeah?" Her excitement was obvious, her smile radiant.
"Yeah," he peeled himself off of the door, jerking his head. "Come on."
Outside, he walked straight to his bike parked next to her truck. She stood on the sidewalk and frowned at the helmet he held out for her. "I'm not getting on that."
"You'll be fine," he coaxed, jiggling the helmet at her.
"Nope."
"Ronnie-"
"Nope." Before he could say another word she doubled down, "Nooooooo."
"Fine." Putting his helmet back, he shook his head at her triumphant smile and opened the passenger door to the beat-up truck she was driving. "Where'd you get this piece of shit?"
"Maybe I just wanted to fit in when I got here, so…"
Juice's eyes went wide and then shook his head, biting back a smile, "Oh, so you're just gonna come into my town talking shit?"
"Well, if the dust fits-".
Juice chuckled, "Fuck you."
"Fuck you!" Ronnie's eyes shined with laughter, while she reversed out of the parking space. "Where are we going?"
Juice smiled broad and genuine this time. "Just drive."
Turning onto the main road, she sing-songed at him, "You know you missed me."
I really did.
Juice shifted in his seat, instantly uncomfortable. Not trusting himself to look at her, he turned his face to the window, "Turn left at the light."
0.o.0.o.0
Plopping down in a booth, Ronnie might as well have been a unicorn with the looks she got from the other patrons. Between that and his cut, if her presence in town hadn't already reached the local gossips, it would be now. When their server sidled up to their table, her eyes on him made Juice regret the choice to not leave his cut in the truck.
"Hey there," she smiled a little too hard at him, turning down the wattage considerably when she addressed Ronnie. "What can I get for you?"
"I'll have the number four with scrambled eggs and bacon." Looking up at their server, she grinned adding, "…aaand a side of bacon."
Ronnie's grin was infectious, and the server's smile back was genuine. "Nothing is better than bacon, right?"
"Amen!"
Turning to Juice she asked, "And for you?"
"Just coffee."
Ronnie balked, "Seriously?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
Flicking her hand at him, she conspired with their server, "I think he needs one of those muffins over there."
"Think so?" She winked at Juice, pen poised. Placing her attention back on Ronnie, she asked, "Blueberry?"
"Yep." She smiled at Juice, totally enjoying herself. Her tapping feet made her bounce a little in her seat.
"And a side of bacon?"
Ronnie's tinkling laugh filled their corner, catching the ears of a few other tables. "Jay? You're fired. Sherry here is my new best friend. Bring on the bacon."
Juice smiled faintly along with them, holding his hands up slightly in defeat. Sherry's smile was more friendly now than suggestive, "I'll put it in. Shouldn't be long at all."
Juice studied his friend for a second. Raniyah smiled, her nerves at not knowing what to say were obvious. "How's your mom?" he asked.
"Fine. She's gone."
Juice's eyes widened, "God, I'm sorry to hear that."
Ronnie looked confused by his response. "Oh! Oh no! I mean she's gone…like traveling!"
He put his hand to his chest, "Jeeeesus! I was like daaaamn! You said that like it didn't mean shit!"
Ronnie giggled at the look on his face, "I'm sorry." Looking sheepish, she explained, "She's on her honeymoon, right now. They're doing Texas, renting a lake house and everything. Husband number three."
Across the table, Juice nodded and then stared out of the window - it was easier than confronting her. Once his coffee appeared, he knew he had to finish what he started. "You never answered my question."
"What question?"
"Why are you here?"
Ronnie's eyes dropped from his face. This wasn't exactly where she figured they would have this conversation. She felt too vulnerable in the small cafe with cooks and patrons just feet away and Sherry glancing over every few minutes. "Do I really need a reason besides the obvious?"
He avoided looking at her, stirring sugar into his coffee, "If there's more to it, then yeah."
More to it? What does that even mean? Ronnie blinked, trying to decide what to say. She could feel the anger from her 17-year-old self rising to the surface. Maybe I'm here because I have missed you every single day and I hate you for leaving me! Maybe because you were my best friend and you fucking abandoned me and I wanted to see your punk ass face to make you tell me why! But those are not the words people spit out over eggs and toast.
"When did you get here?" He already knew that she checked in yesterday, that information only cost him 20 bucks to find out from the night clerk at her motel but it didn't mean she couldn't have stayed somewhere else in town first. The slippery old man had eagerly given up her room number and reservation dates along with a promise to keep an eye out for any guests she might have for 50 dollars more. That and the hope that the SONs would be nice to him somewhere down the line.
"I got here yesterday morning." She finally met his eyes again and he could see hurt there. "What do you want me to say? I'm sorry if me coming here is messing something up for you but I-,"
He didn't like how relieved he was by her truthful answer, "No, it's not that-"
"Here ya go!" Sherry delivered their breakfast with a flourish, but the changed mood at the table let her know not to linger. They ate in silence for a while. Juice ended up eating the muffin and bacon that he never wanted just to have something to do with his mouth besides talk. Every once in a while he caught her looking at him.
"What?"
"You look good." She tilted her head to the side with a hesitant smile, dimples dipping then disappearing. "I mean that hair is gonna take me a minute but I guess I like the bulk. Little Jay all grown up."
"Thanks," Juice all but blushed. Christ! Act like a girl has paid you a compliment before shithead. It just felt different coming from someone who knew him when he was younger. "And I was never all that little."
Ronnie burst out laughing, "You were like 90 pounds."
Juice frowned, "Fuck you. I was twelve."
"Still," she snickered.
"You were flat-chested," he smirked, leaning back in his seat.
"Hey!" She balled up her napkin and threw it at his head.
He batted it away, grinning at her reaction, "You started it!"
His phone buzzed in his pocket and his smile vanished, "Yeah." She watched him listen for a minute before ending the call with a simple, "Alright."
She couldn't read his expression while he dug into his back pocket. Raising a 20-dollar bill in the air, he got Sherry's attention. Dropping it on the table, he stood up, barely making eye contact. "We gotta head out."
Ronnie shoved her last piece of bacon into her mouth and had to hurry to catch up to him, talking around it. "Okay, big tipper. Is everything okay?"
He kept up his long strides, "Yeah…just, I need to get back."
"Oookay."
Juice was quiet on the way back to the motel, leaving Ronnie wondering if she had said something wrong. He answered his phone immediately both times that it rang but not saying much to whoever it was lighting him up. She could feel a tension that she didn't understand coming off of him as he sat staring straight ahead. Eventually, he glanced her way and she gripped the steering wheel to keep from questioning him, giving him a soft trusting smile. His stomach began to tighten, knowing he didn't deserve it.
.
A/N: Thank you for reading! See you in a few days with a new chapter! :) kjx
