Blue: Motorcycle Club Romance (Dragon Runners Book 3) Page 6

  Mom was bustling around the kitchen, the salty tang of bacon and the sweet smell of fresh bread wafting in the air. She pulled a crusty brown loaf out of the electric oven, then turned and flipped the crispy strips of meat on the woodstove. The flat iron griddle had been the one my grandmother had used and was still in service. Nothing tasted better than bacon and buckwheat cakes cooked on that griddle.

  “Hello, sweetheart. Breakfast’ll be ready soon. Gotta finish the cakes, though. Grab them bowls over there and start dipping the cookie dough. Ain’t gonna make services today. Got too much to finish this morning. The Addison family had a death this week. The oldest boy passed on. Big shame. He was only seventeen. They say he got ahold a some drug been goin ’round over to t’the high school. Made his heart go too fast for his body. Emma Jean is beside herself and I cain’t blame her. Buck was her firstborn and was looking at a full scholarship over to NC State for football. She’s just plumb done in.”

  I dipped cookie dough into mounds on the old flat cookie sheets. The fragrance of ginger and other spices drifted up to my nose. “There was another drug overdose last night at the festival. Deputy Davis said it happened at the high school as well, but I don’t know who it was this time. Just that it was a girl. I’m sure you’ll hear soon enough.” I sighed. “I hope he can find out where this stuff is coming from and put an end to it.”

  “Lord have mercy!” Mom declared, shaking her short white hair. She was just as much a firecracker as my dad, always working at a project or doing something for somebody. “Betsey and Brick done raised a good boy. I never understood how he could marry that no ‘count Jonelle Mason. She had good folks too, with good raisin’ but Lord knows she turned out a disappointment. She’s done took up with some other no ‘count according to her mama.”

  I smiled as I listened to my mother rattle on about other relatives and families, people’s health, happenings at the church, and other gossip bits. Her hands stayed busy, pouring batter onto the well-seasoned griddle and flipping the bubbling pancakes. She was just as much an Energizer Bunny as my dad.

  “Call your daddy. Cakes are done.”

  I stepped out to the covered porch, put two fingers in my mouth, and blasted a short but loud whistle. I saw my dad start toward the house, accompanied by my dogs. My mom had taught me how to do this years ago but could still out-whistle me in both volume and duration.

  We sat down at the well-worn table. Dad said grace and we started in on the morning feast. The dogs sat around him, waiting for handouts. It was an age-old game my parents played. My dad would sneak bits to the dogs and Mom would scold him for it, but she would do the same when he wasn’t looking.

  Mom looked at Sam, who was plastered next to me. “That one’s got a story, don’t he?” she remarked. “Looks like he’s been rode hard and put up wet but seems real watchful. Gonna be trouble, you think?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” I explained Sam’s history of fighting and abuse. I also described his protective attitude around Cody and Michelle.

  Mom nodded. “Makes sense. He may come from a bad place, but he’s a good dog. Got a lot of loyalty in him. You can tell by the way he stays guardin’ next to you.”

  We spent the rest of the morning and afternoon working in the kitchen and playing with the dogs. Sam did finally join in and played with the other dogs, chasing the balls my dad threw and wrestling. They were tired puppies when I loaded them and several bags of fresh vegetables in the truck to go home. On the way, I got a call from Dr. Jackson. Someone had seen a photo of Buddy on the adoption site and was interested in meeting him. I asked her to text me the number since I was driving and I would call them later to set up a time to meet next week. Hopefully Buddy would find his forever home.

  As I pulled into my narrow driveway, I noticed Blue’s lights were on. He was home and I hoped he had a good day. I knew I needed the space of my parents’ place out of town from time to time to recharge my batteries. I was sure he did too.

  I got the dogs settled and started my pamper night. First, a hair mask of a bunch of oils, wild honey, and egg yolks. It was a messy affair I’d wash out later, but the deep conditioning made my hair soft and full. Once my hair was wrapped in a plastic cap and warmed towel, I put on a deep clay face mask. It was a powerful skin tightener as well as detoxifier. Sam stared at me with wide eyes because of the dark gray gook smeared on my face. Next, I filled the tub with the first round of water and threw in a bath bomb of lemongrass and ginger. The sphere spun as it fizzed in the water and filled the air with its citrusy scent. I had a plate of mom’s ginger cookies and a big cup of decaf coffee sitting on the side table next to the tub. Heaven!

  The heat of the water was soothing and I relaxed into its depths. I was starting to think about Christmas soaps, lotions, and new scent blends when my phone beeped. I looked at the screen and was surprised to see it was a text from Blue.

  Blue: I saved your number when you called me about the kids at the street festival. I hope that’s ok. I wanted to thank you again for your help with them. I was not in a good place the other night and hope I didn’t offend you. Thanks for being there.

  Butterflies erupted in my stomach at the message. I dried my fingers and texted back.

  Me: No problem. They are welcome here anytime. How is the girl from the festival? Still at the hospital?

  Blue: No. She passed a few hours ago. Doctor said there was just too much damage to her heart.

  This was bad news. Even though I didn’t know the girl or her family, I still felt their sorrow.

  Me: I’m so sorry. I’m sure her family is devastated. How are you holding up?

  I wasn’t sure what else to say. I held the phone a few more minutes.

  Blue: It’s rough but I’m dealing, or at least I’m trying. What are you up to tonight?

  I held my breath as those stupid butterflies shifted in my stomach. Should I be honest and tell him I was in the tub with a clay mask on my face and oily goop in my hair? Um… no. I finally texted back thinking I didn’t need to tell him all that I was doing.

  Me: It’s my pamper night so I’m lounging in my tub and reading a book.

  Blue: Pamper night?

  Me: Yup. All the girly things we women like to do that will remain a mystery.

  Blue: Like bubble baths and facials?

  Me: How do you know about facials?

  Blue: I have a mother who buys that stuff from you. Her two best friends do also.

  Me: I see.

  I was trying to think of something, anything to text in response when his next message came through.

  Blue: I meant what I said about going to court for me in a few weeks. I could use the help if you’re willing.

  Me: Again, no problem, Deputy. I just hope the kids can get through this mess. They’re the real victims. :(

  I waited for a few minutes for another reply. Maybe calling his kids victims wasn’t a good idea but it was accurate in my mind. Poor Cody was so confused and scared. I wished there was a way Sam could be with him. He seemed to bond with the boy and act more as a protector.

  My phone dinged in my hand again.

  Blue: Call me Blue. You got boxes tomorrow? Coffee tomorrow morning?

  Those butterflies twirled through my stomach.

  Me: Always have boxes. See you then, Blue. Sleep well

  The bath water was getting colder now and I had been planning on a two-tub night but decided I was done. The water gurgled down the drain as I slathered on a moisturizing body butter. Mom always called it my hippie cream, but I called it my fool’s cream as the oils were known to firm skin and reduce or eliminate wrinkles. I wasn’t an old person and I didn’t mind aging, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to put up a fight. Besides, it was one of my best sellers. Betsey usually bought three jars at a time.

  I put on my favorite lounging pants, ones that were made by Eva. They were a silky soft cotton in a muted pale blue. I added a white tank top. Sticking my nose back in my book would be the perfect
end to a perfect day, but that was not going to happen. Instead, I read Blue’s texts over and over again. There was nothing in them that was any more than friendly. The same kind of exchange you’d have with a cousin or a friend. Yet I was still stirred up. Restless. Bleh! I could feel another long night coming on. I’d been having too many of them lately and I knew it would catch up with me at some point, but unless I wanted to start taking sleeping medication, I’d keep working it out on my own.

  I stood up, put on my fluffy robe and slippers, and decided to go down to the workroom to putter. Perhaps my brain would slow down enough to sleep. Toto and Sam raised their heads from the bed and watched me. Toto grunted and settled back down, as she was used to this occurrence. Sam got up and followed me to the workroom, settling on the doggie bed there to keep me company and to guard. I talked to him as I worked just to have a bit of noise.

  “Got a big order in for bath bombs. Remember that woman who nearly cleaned me out at the festival? One hundred assorted pikake, jasmine, rose, and gardenia. The woman wants them as wedding favors and in colors that match her bridesmaids.”

  I pulled out the big tubs of baking soda and citric acid and set several mixing bowls on the table.

  “I think she’s got a flower theme going on, but what a mix of flowers! I hope no one in the wedding party has any allergies.”

  I snapped on some short latex gloves to protect my hands from the drying effects of the citric acid. I measured the powders, added a bit of sweet almond oil, and started stirring the mixture together. I chattered at Sam, who thumped his tail at my voice to let me know he was still listening, but otherwise didn’t move or even open his eyes.

  Light pink for the pikake, lavender for the jasmine, yellow for the rose, and white for the gardenia; I mixed the colors in the giant bowls and began pressing the bombs into plastic snap-together molds. This was tougher than it looked and I knew my hands and arms would be sore tomorrow from the effort. Scoop, press, scoop some more, force together and snap, repeat. I was in the zone and starting to feel myself relax. I needed to finish the bombs as the ingredients were already mixed, but I was feeling myself starting to drift, finally ready to sleep. Hopefully, I’d sleep well.

  The knock on my door was unexpected and startling. Even Sam jumped a bit. I looked through the door’s window and spotted none other than Blue looking in on me. Damn, those butterflies were still awake and had morphed into buzzing bees.

  Nine

  After his text with Psalm, Blue grabbed a bottle of beer from his tiny fridge and took a long swallow. The ease he felt from the brief digital conversation left him rather quickly. The day couldn’t have been shittier and he was feeling every minute of it. The last few weeks had left him restless and edgy. This was supposed to be his day off with his kids, but he’d been called away on an emergency and both his parents were out of town on a run to the club’s newest campground acquisition. He’d had to drop the kids off at Jonelle’s place earlier than he wanted and she had given him shit for it. Another high school kid had hyped up on some bad drug and was running up and down the aisles of the local Walmart naked with a hunting knife, slashing at whoever he could get near. By the time he got there, the kid had collapsed into a seizure, his heart unable to keep up with the drug. He was currently at the hospital in a coma and not expected to last much longer. With the girl from the festival passing and this new likely casualty, Blue was on a constant edge, frustrated, and feeling helpless to do his job.

  Blue held the bottle loosely in his fingers and ran the cool glass over his tired forehead. This was the fourth or fifth kid to overdose, and the second in the last twenty-four hours he’d had to deal with. So far, all of them had died, which you’d think would deter anyone from using this new drug. He’d spend some time this morning talking to his dad about the problem. Brick was trying to find out more about the sudden drug influx as well. Too many people made the assumption it was the Dragon Runners who were bringing the stuff in, and Brick had fought too long and hard to clean up his club and keep his people safe to let it backslide. The club now owned a number of profitable and legitimate businesses that kept its members employed and very well off. No need to mess that up. Brick was just as concerned about this new meth-type drug.

  Jonelle had also come after him again, claiming if he wasn’t spending his court-allotted time with the kids, then he shouldn’t be allowed to have that time. They were headed back to court soon and she was looking for anything to use against him. She’d taken the kids in the house without a word and later called him to yell at him at the same time he was at the hospital watching a thin teenage boy fighting for his life and losing. At least she hadn’t lost her shit in front of the kids. Well, he hoped not, but he had no control over what she did or said after she hung up on him. He imagined she trash-talked him to their children, and soon that would take a toll. They had seen too much happen between their parents already and Blue was concerned about the damage this would cause.

  Michelle seemed to be two kids in one body. Sometimes he saw glimpses of the cute six-year-old she was supposed to be, like when she was grilling someone new with questions. Other times she was quiet as a mouse, reserved and still, afraid to move and being extremely cautious in choosing her words. Almost fearful. Cody was merely a shadow of himself. Something was going on with both kids and he felt it was more than the nasty battle between their parents. He couldn’t put a finger on it and when he talked to his kids, they shut down.

  Shit with work; shit with Jonelle; Christ almighty, even shit with his daughter. He felt the entire weight of the planet on his shoulders and his knees were starting to buckle.

  Fuck! He leaned against the window of his shitty apartment overlooking the street and rubbed the sweating bottle against his brow. So many people depending on him to stay in control, stay on top of things, fix everyone’s problems, and somehow remain sane. Jonelle’s money demands and the upcoming court battle, the sudden influx of meth substances in the small town, whatever was happening with his kids. It was too much at times, and more than once he’d thought about just gathering his stuff, loading his truck, and leaving. But that wasn’t an option. He could never leave his kids or his family.

  A light came on in the soap shop across street. Psalm was up and messing around with her soaps and lotions again. His thoughts drifted to her gentle eyes and soothing voice. He closed his own eyes as he recalled her words from earlier in the week. Many of the other store owners had given him shit for the new council rule, and Psalm had been upset too, but had not blamed or ranted at him for it. In fact, she had given him a gift and thanked him for doing his job. Her words had been “I appreciate you for it.” For a moment, he had felt good. She’d also taken care of his kids when they were in need. Michelle had been fascinated with the stuff in the workroom. Cody had clung to that monster dog like a prickly burr, taking comfort in that massive animal.

  She’d hugged him when he needed it the most, giving him the human contact he hadn’t realized he was craving. He’d felt that connection even through the text conversation just a little while ago. She couldn’t really take his burdens, but she seemed to understand them and was willing to stand up for him and with him. Christ Almighty, he missed having someone in his life.

  Without knowing how he got there, he found himself at her back door, looking at her bustling in her workshop. She was wearing a white robe and pale blue lounge pants, mixing powders and pressing them into two halves of a plastic ball.

  His hand came up and knocked lightly at the door and his heart pounded as she glanced up, startled, and then smiled with that slow blink of hers. She unlocked the door and gentle floral scents hit his nostrils. He inhaled deeply, his mind growing calmer just being in her presence.

  “Hello, Blue. Can’t sleep?” Her sweet voice rushed over him like a blanket.

  “Noticed your light and thought I’d come check on you. Make sure you’re okay.” He fumbled as he picked up a bottle of… something. A glance at the label told him it was
bergamot essential oil. He brought it to his nose and sniffed at it so he wouldn’t have to meet her eyes. If he looked into their deep bluish-gray depths, he would want to drown in them.

  “That’s very sweet. I know it’s been rough in town lately with this drug problem, and you’ve had a lot on your plate. I’m really sorry this mess is happening and you’re having to deal with it. I feel terrible for the families of those kids. I can’t imagine what they’re going through,” she said while she whisked a bright pink concoction in a large mixing bowl. She shoveled a handful of the powder into another round mold and pressed the two halves together, forming a perfect pink ball. “I’m sure it’s not a picnic in the park to deal with Jonelle either.”

  He let out an ironic sound. “If you only knew.”

  She placed the filled mold on a tray with a bunch of other ones in pastel colors. “I know you’re a good man going through a really rough patch right now. I wish there was something I could do to help you, but I expect this is one fight you have to see through on your own.” She looked up at him. “If you need to share a bit just to get stuff off your chest, feel free to talk or text anytime. I promise I won’t be telling people everything I know.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Blue fingered one of the filled plastic balls. “What are these?” he asked. He wasn’t ready to go but couldn’t stay. Getting his thoughts and worries off his chest sounded like heaven, but he didn’t want to add his burdens to anyone else’s. Her nearness made him think of things he had no business thinking.

  “Bath bombs,” she answered, pressing another one into a mold. “They’ve gotten real popular. They fizz up and fill the tub with oils and fragrance when you get a chance to wind down from the day in a tub of warm water. At least that’s what my tagline for these pieces is going to be. What do you think?”