Ooh it was kinda quiet on the chapter 2 upload. I hope I haven't scared you away! Serious question, are the scenes too abrupt and choppy?
Chapter 3 The Shark Smells Blood
Being eaten alive. I wonder if it's painful, or just painfully slow. Am I stuck here, or just lazy. Maybe it would feel better if I could experience zero gravity. I wonder what it's like being a balloon filled with helium. Maybe I should try weed. I squint my eyes up at the wall clock.
It's break time, and for the first time in a while, I sit at the bar. Cutting through a stack of pancakes is what I call comfort. Strawberry syrup is what I call sticky happiness.
Or maybe a hot air balloon, it sails higher. It would take me farther away. Can you be happy if you're fueled by fire, full of hot air?
"Hey Bella!" My fork clatters down to my plate. My oxygen stuffed balloon has popped.
"Hi Ms. Webber, how are you?" I force out between a mouth full of pancake. She comes to sit on the stool next to me.
"Please Bella, I told you to call me Anita. Those pancakes look yummy." She leans into my side and playfully whispers the reason why she's here. "Your handsome father back in town yet?"
"Nope he's still in Alaska. I'm surprised he hasn't called you. Then again I'm always the one calling him."
Anita and my dad had a fling some years ago, but it fizzled out. She's still got a thing for him, I see.
Angela and I had parents sneaking around like teenagers. We were sad when things ended for them. Hmm, is this a rekindle? Maybe that would bring him home. Maybe then the house would be full enough for me to leave.
"Hey Anita my dad still has a tab open at your bar, right. And I saw you had a help wanted sign in your window."
Anita's bar sits on the border line between forks and the reservation. It's that somewhere in the middle of nowhere. When you want to get lost in your own town sort of thing.
"Oh no Bella, I couldn't ask you to do that. Don't worry about your father's tab. Let him figure it out for a change."
"No, no Anita, I really need another job. I gotta pay the mortgage this year. Dad isn't coming back for a while. He injured his wrist last season, and before that it was his back. Who knows if he can pull his weight this month. Somethings gotta give. There just aren't enough shifts here at the diner."
I rub at the edge of my sticky lips for a breath. I want to get lost and make the money at the same time. I want to loosen up those knots.
"Alright, Bella. Come to the bar on your next off day and I'll train you. I need another bar-back anyway. And unlike my baby Angela, you've got grit."
"Look what the cat dragged in. You sharking my staff Anita?" Peggy must've sidled her way behind me. The view from over my shoulder shows her hands planted firmly on her hips and ready to give a good birch.
"Of course not, Peggy. Baby Bella just wants a chance at a fair wage. If she works her way up to bartender by the time she graduates, I won't need to poach. Outgrowing the diner, is outgrowing the diner." Her teasing tone makes Peggy roll her eyes.
"Oh boy, oh boy you're still after Charlie? He ain't here Anita. Slither back to your 'hopping bar'."
"Sea urchin!" Anita sticks her tongue out.
"Barnacle!" Peggy tosses back.
"Bye Bella. Come on by when you're ready." She gives a quick wink before toeing down from her stool.
"Bella, Vanessa called in sick again. I need you to pull a double."
"A double on a weeknight? Between the last customers and clean up I won't be outta here till 4am, Peggy!"
"I give you a double and you complain? All you ask me for is hours, and now it's too much?"
"No Peggy, I'll do it." I force my hair into a ponytail and raise up from the bar.
•••• Hoping the night went fast was wishful thinking. Between working the bar and my usual section, I barely had any time to breathe.
The soles of my feet hurt and I'm glad it's only thirty minutes before closing. I've never been so happy to hear Gus shutting down the kitchen, his short whistle and plate clashing, piercing through the air. I close my eyes and let my neck and shoulders roll.
I work the bleach rag into the table tops in stiff circular motions. The soreness in my arms and wrist probably won't even let me hold a pencil tomorrow.
Looking out the foggy windows, the view outside looks dead, but it feels like something's coming. Rain, hail, thunderstorm, or something else. Whatever it is, stirs a calamitous vibe.
A black Range Rover cuts its headlights and I instantly know. Jacob, it's Jacob that I feel, but he's not alone. Two other men follow behind him like a pack. All covered in tattoos, all dressed in the finest wool, all graced with flowing black hair.
I watch them slink through the entrance and seat themselves. My heartbeat rises to my ears as I make my way over to their table.
"Yeah uh can we get the meatloaf special?" One of the two I've never seen before, skips all pleasantries. His form is riddled with tension. His aura is nothing like Jacobs.
"Sorry to rain on your parade but we are closing in thirty minutes. All I can offer you is breakfast and fresh coffee."
"Listen sweets, go tell the cook we're starving and that three kings are here. He'll know who we are. He thumbs the side of his face and looks me up and down.
I take a deep breath and swallow the waves of nervous energy. "My name ain't sweets and like I said—"
"Listen Rain Ms. Parade, just give me a stack of pancakes with a side of bacon." Oddly he concedes quickly.
"And what can I get the rest of you?"
"Hi Bella, just coffee for the both of us."
"Hi Jake." My voice sounds foreign, like a love sick school girl. We share a quick smile.
The other guy seated across from Jacob hasn't said a word, just watching our interaction.
"Hi Jake." A mockingly high pitched, over sweet and flowery echo comes from Mr. Meatloaf guy.
Jake shakes his head at him as I put my beet red face down and try to concentrate on taking the order, praying the snickers would die down.
"Add a plain waffle to that." The silent observer let's his voice be heard. He looks mature and sounds stern. He looks related to Jake but older with shorter hair, wider set eyes, and a stronger jaw.
I quietly come back with their order and look up at the sound of my name.
"This your new snag, Jake?" The stoic guy is far from silent now. "Bella, you seem like a smart girl, a good girl." He watches me pour coffee into their mugs, watching between me and Jake for a silent conversation, a signal, a twitch. Watching for something that just isn't there. We are both disappointed.
"You don't seem like you scare easily." He waves a hundred dollar bill that stops me in my tracks.
"Where is this going Sam? She ain't no snag. Leave the girl alone."
The one named Sam turns back to me. "Nah little brother, I really want to know what she thinks." I'm trapped in his stare, legs heavy as lead and tummy tight with knots.
"I got a question for you, Bella. If you can answer it, this bill is yours." His teasing is embarrassing, like he's sprinkling bread to a pigeon.
"Sam, she's working. Leave her the fuck alone." Jacob's tight lipped warning wasn't enough.
"Yeah and she's working for this hundred dollar bill. You talking your snag out of cash?" A challenging grin pulls at his sadistic mouth. "Like I was saying to my brother here, I want to show good faith in my 'subsidiaries' and 'independent contractors'. If one of my 'vertically integrated' businesses comes up short and their account has lapsed more than once, what would you suggest I do?"
He's speaking in code, like I don't know they're a gang. Organized crime or not, it's a gang. I don't know anything about criminals, but I know ruthless and aggressive tactics. The fishing business is just a bunch of assholes throwing their weight around and changing the rules to keep you broke and playing catch-up. A shark is a shark, whether you can see his fin or not.
"I don't know what all that means, but I think it would all depend on how much is missing. If it's too much to stomach, if you're at a loss, cut ties and liquidate … if it's not a big enough amount, provide incentive or starve him out. Everybody has a price, everybody has something to lose. Throw your weight or shut it down before you lose control."
I still can't break his powerful gaze. His eyes are encrusted with evil. His tongue licks out at his dry lips.
My face hardens to stone. Porous enough to receive the transference of cold energy, but hard enough to withstand its weathering. I'm not a coward. This is his intimidation.
I can't back away and something forceful won't let me back down. His chill caresses that dead place inside of me. This familiar chill breathes a renewed hot air into my chest. His stiffly blank expression reminds me of Mike, but more feral and murderous. Show fear or weakness and he will relentlessly attack.
I stare into his wild eyes and wait for him to let up. When you got a Mossback on hook you've gotta pull through until the end whether you catch him or not.
A laugh cuts into our staring match. "Oh shit, Sam, you've met your match. She's no Emily." Meatloaf waves a strip of bacon in Sam's face. "Like damn did it get a little cold in here?" And the silence has been lifted from the table.
" Paul, you know I was just fucking with her." He lets out a breathy laugh, chancing a side glance toward Jake.
He extends his hand holding the hundred dollar bill to me, but my dusty soul refuses to let me lift a finger. Accepting this money seems wrong, like reaching into a trick bag.
"Go ahead Bella. There's no robbery in fair trade. I've gotta pay you for the advice."
I look over at Jake and his expression is unreadable. His hands are balled up in shaking fists. His hair casts a shadow over his hooded eyes. I want to see. I want to take a peek at the animal. I want to know what it's like to be caught up in his grasp. I want to feel his fingers dig into my bones.
How would I look to Jake if I took his brother's money? Would I be seen as cheap and useless. Would I look emotional and out of control? Is this any different from taking money from Mike? Is one hundred dollars my price?
Am I just like every other girl clawing for a way out?
"Thank you, but no thank you, Sam." And I leave the table before my thrill seeking conscience wears me down.
What type of crime do you think Jake's gang is into? Is that something you guys would want to get into?