CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Website where all photos of all outfits mentioned is on my profile.
With the last dozen or so miles passing faster than the rest of the ones we've just travelled I figure it's time to give Al and Cam a heads up as to what's happening in Charming, and find out how long they are in town for.
"So, you guys need a bit of info before we get there, you've heard a bit from blabbermouth over there," I look affectionately at Donna who has been telling them all about small town life, and slipping in details about my connection to both local law enforcement and government. She's also managed to fill in a lot of the holes that I left in my story about how and why I had left Charming in the first place.
"I have you booked into a room in a hotel, but at the moment it's for a week. I didn't know how long you'd be here for..." I trail off, hoping that one of them will let me know and I'm shocked speechless with the answer I get.
"Well, that depends entirely on how we like the town. Both of us decided that we have grown tired of New York and want a change. That's why you keep complaining that the trailer feels like it weighs a tonne. It has most of our stuff in it as well, the rest is in storage at a moving company's yard, if we don't like Charming we're going to go on to San Francisco. But if Charming is as great as you've sold it to be its population might be about to increase by two." Cam tells me, her voice set with the decision I knew she'd been thinking about for months, not the moving to Charming part, but the leaving New York part.
I wonder, briefly, about how this will shake things up with the crow eaters and sweet butts, neither Al nor Cam will put up with any bullshit from any of them, and I know that the skanks that hang hopefully around the clubhouse won't like the 2 new pieces of eye candy that are about to appear to 'their' men.
The three of us were once told we were like 3 parts of a perfect puzzle. Of course the person that told us that was trying to bed all of us, at the same time, but he was strangely accurate. Al, with her blonde hair and blue eyes, pale skin and the curves that seemed to go on for days was the All-American girl where Cam was the almost polar opposite, pin straight black hair, which she'd always worn in long layers framing her face, the brown eyes that seemed to move like liquid, her figure almost looked boyish, apart from her surgically given boobs, the 21st present she'd gotten 2 years before. Then there was me stuck in the middle. I always thought that my best feature was my grey eyes, but apparently in New York the fact that my hair was naturally waist length shocked people, as did the fact that I'd had no plastic surgery and never went to a tanning booth, the figure that I'd ended up with as an adult could have come straight out of an old school pin-up tattoo. Many times in the first months of our friendship Al threatened to turn me into a pin-up on canvas.
I shrug to myself, ignoring the questioning glance I get from Donna as she notices the movement. Heading past the 'Welcome to Charming' sign I know the second Al sees it as she grins, proud that we'd managed to get it perfect from the few images we'd found of it on Google.
Following the guys into the Teller-Morrow lot I'm not really sure if I'm ready for the shit storm that could hit the second Al sets her eyes on Jax, but I don't have a choice in where we go. It almost feels like I'm being herded to my doom, and I know it's stupid. I have Happy and Opie who will be there, Juice will sit back and wait till he can say something idiotic to break tension, and the prospect will vanish, like good prospects do.
I know that the best place for the massive trailer of furniture, clothes, ornaments and electronics is behind their gates I can't argue, well I could, but I am not able to find a reason that would sound anything other than pathetic.
As almost a blessing when I take an inventory of the bikes in the lot I spot the empty space where Jax's should be. I breathe a sigh of relief which is caught by the trouble makers in the back seat.
Al leans between the seats, having undone her belt the second we were off the road "He's not here, is he?" She's craning her head trying to spot the blonde head she's seen in many photos.
"Nope, so you can just keep yourself sedated for a while longer." I grin, knowing she won't take the bait.
"Pfttttttttttt."
She's blown a raspberry at me, like the mature adult she always claims to be. But I can't blame her, I feel like I'm going to be sent to the principal's office, and the nerves don't lessen till I spot Clay, sitting on the edge of a picnic table, cigar in hand chatting away with Bobby.
I can spot the exact second that Bobby has seen the airbrushing down my car, his mouth drops open and he shoves Clay in my direction.
"Now or never." I mutter, mainly to myself, but also to let Cam and Al know that they're going to meet one of the 2 people who they know not to piss off.
The four of us get out of my truck, well Donna seems to jump down, while I use the running board to make a, slightly, more graceful departure. My 2 friends stick legs out and can easily plant their feet on the ground and I'm reminded again that I really hate all my friends being so much taller than me, it's not like my 5'7" frame is short, it's just with Cam at 6' and Al at 5'11" I feel like a kid beside them sometimes.
"Clay, this is..." He walks right past me, going to the front of my truck and starts to walk around it.
I can see him analysing the motorcycles that run in a formation down both sides from the front of the vehicle towards the boot hatch, the Anarchy A that's the only part of the logo I allowed myself to add to the imaging, that without looking closely at the surround of the key holes no one would notice...but of course Clay does.
Returning to the front, he takes note of the flames that curve from under the car, over the bonnet and down the roof, fading to smoke haze on the rear doors.
He looks over at me, motions me over and makes me name the bikes that are permanently etched into my mind, so were painstakingly recreated via airbrush on my car, riders in solid black helmets so no faces were in the imagery.
"You, of course, you had to be at the front. Big Otto, Bobby, Piney, Happy, Tig, Jax, Opie." The images of 4 bikes and riders on each side of my vehicle seems to have shocked him into a silence that I hope he'll break soon, or I might just run away back to New York, regardless of what waits for me there.
He pulls me to his chest hard and hugs me, "We never let you leave our hearts either sweetheart."
I didn't know till this second how much I'd missed the hard man that was my dad's friend during their time in the army, and the man who saved his life at least once in Vietnam and used to visit us at least 4 times a year at home in Palm Springs. A couple of tears leak out of my eyes at the realisation that I didn't just leave my friends behind when I ran away and I look him in the eyes "I'm sorry..."
He doesn't let me say another word; I guess he knows what was coming, the explanation that he doesn't want about why I left, and more excuses about my behaviour on that last day. He doesn't need them, and thankfully he doesn't want them either.
Turning back to my friends I continue the introductions, finally getting to put names to the faces that Cam and Al had been analysing since our arrival as they worked on getting the U-Haul off the truck and pushed into a corner. I can't help but wonder why they didn't just back in into the corner, but with me tied up with Clay they wouldn't have wanted to interrupt to get the keys that are tucked in my pocket.
After sorting out names and laughing at the guys as they all clicked that the 2 people that seemed to have Jax so steamed up about are both in-fact gorgeous women we snap into action when Clay shouts that it's time for everyone to go home. Pointing at me he very sternly stated "Not you."
Oh shit, I am in trouble. That's the first thought that instantly shoots through my brain, but not wanting to argue I hand my keys to Al, double checking I still have the Challenger key tucked in my pocket before I direct her to follow Opie to where we're eating that night.