“You had a panic attack and hyperventilated until you passed out.” I eyed him up and down. He was about 6’2” and broad across the shoulders. He was a big dude, but not a particularly hard-looking one. He had soft hazel eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses and a long, wavy mop of auburn hair pulled back into a man bun. Unlike Bones, who was covered in ink, Ratched didn’t have any tattoos that I could see. Ratched wore a pair of hospital scrubs, which didn’t do anything to make him look less intimidating.
I huffed at him and used my finger to draw patterns in the scratchy blanket placed over me. “Unlikely. I don’t have panic attacks. I’m a pretty stalwart gal; I attack panic, it doesn’t attack me.” Ratched nodded, which was a comforting gesture even if he didn’t actually agree with me.
“I’m a nurse. Do you mind if I check your vital signs so I can make sure you’re recovered from… whatever happened?” I considered Ratched. A man that thick could doa lotof damage really quickly to someone as dainty as I wasifhe could catch me, which in this small room I had no doubt he could. He realized that I was in threat assessment mode, so he stood still with his hands casually visible at his sides while he waited for my permission to touch me. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to hurt me just yet, I nodded to him.
With gentle hands and an efficient air, Ratched listened to my heartbeat and checked my blood pressure, explaining what he was doing before he did it. Bones remained seated during the assessment, playing with something small in his hand. He rolled it along his knuckles, which was a pretty neat trick. It almost looked like dice, but it was…wrong somehow. I was concentrating on figuring out what he had, so I was startled when Ratched cleared his throat. “So…your heart and lungs sound good. Pulse is normal, so it’s safe to say the pan…whatever caused you to lose consciousness is over. Do you know your name?”
I scrunched my nose in confusion, “I told President Duke my name is Girl.”
“Right, I apologize. I just want to make sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell. Do you know what year it is?” I rolled my eyes.
“Yes, it’s 2024. Our president is that old dude, and you have four fingers and one thumb on each hand. Can I go?” Sheila must be missing me by now.
Ratched smiled gently. “I’m almost done. How old are you, Girl?” I shifted around uncomfortably.
“I don’t know.” Bones looked at me like he was confused, and then Ratched opened his big questioning mouth again.
“You can’t remember?” He seemed concerned that I had bonked my head so hard I’d scrambled my brain. “Can you tell us your birth date or social security number? Anything to help identify you?” I squirmed a bit, feeling my face heat with frustration and embarrassment. I huffed a breath and snapped, “I remembereverything. I don’t KNOW how old I am. I don’t KNOW my birth date. I don’t KNOW if I even have a social security number. I don’t…” I choked back a frustrated sob. “I don’t even have a real name. Why the hell do you even want to know? I just want to leave, so if that’s all, Sheila and I will happily fuck off now.”
Holding his hands up in surrender, Ratched darted his eyes to Bones like he wasn’t sure what to do, but I wasn’t done. I was feeling defensive and embarrassed, which was not a good combo. “You can’t even print me!” I held up my hands, palm out, showing him where my fingerprints had been burned off. “No dental records, either. I’m no one. I’m nothing. I don’t exist.” While my outburst might have startled Ratched, Bones looked on quietly with a face like thunder. Well, if he didn’t like the drama, he could find a new llama.
Moving to stand, I was surprised to hear Bones innocently say, “What about Sheila, chica loca?”
I narrowed my eyes.“Sheila goes where I go. Unless it’s to the bathroom, then she waits outside.”
“I doubt Slyzec treated her as well as she deserved. Who knows when the last time she’s had routine maintenance done or what kind of state she’s in internally. I know how much she means to you, and since Duke officially stated that the club owes you…We have a garage where Sheila could go and get the works. You could stay here until she’s ready to leave. You’d have a room to yourself in the clubhouse, food, and no one to bother you.” I mulled over his words, sifting through the stream of information to see if I could find any lies.Lies were like tiny nuggets ofgold. If you sifted through a man’s words, you could find them. It just took patience.
“You’d take care of Sheila, make sure she’s okay…and let me squat here…for free? I wouldn’t be expected to…do thingsor…earn my keep?” I’d had offers from slimeballs before, all swiftly and violently rejected. Even though I didn’t know my birth date, Ididknow that it wasn’t yesterday. Needless to say, I was suspicious.
“It’s not free, chica loca.” Before I could bristle and tell Bones I didn’t barter with my lady garden, he continued, “It’s not free if we owe you. You pre-paid in Slyzec’s blood. Once we’re done getting Sheila in tip-top shape and you’re satisfied, we’ll be one step closer to being even.” I narrowed my eyes again.
“Pinky promise?” Trust wasn’t something I handed out very often. I couldn’t trust myself sometimes. I was an impatient bitch; I couldn’t even trust myself not to scarf a molten hot microwave burrito even though I knew it would burn three layers of skin off the roof of my mouth the moment I bit into it. Now, I was supposed to trust Bones and Los Cuervos with Sheila? I used the Force to search my feelings, but I didn’t sense any bad vibes from Bones. He held his hand up, and we made the most sacred and binding oath in the history of humankind: the pinky swear.
“Okay, I stay here while you give Sheila the most deluxe spa treatment you offer. She deserves the works for all she’s been through. A complete glow-up. No one touches me, and I get my own room to sleep in. Oh, and food! When she’s done, we can go. Then we’re even. Do we need Priest and President Duke in here to notarize our agreement or write it on parchment or something?”
“No, chica loca. No notary necessary. If you give me the keys, I can take Sheila to the garage. Ratched will take you to your room and give you a tour. Someone will come get you in an hour or so for dinner.” He nodded to Ratched, who held the door open for me like a gentleman.
I rose from the bed and handed the keys to Bones as I passed him on the way to the door. “Be gentle with her, Bones. She’s a lady, even if she doesn’t look like one.”
Bones nodded his head gravely, taking my words as seriously as I meant them.
“Si, we don’t hurt females here.” I touched the bruises on my face, his eyes darkening as they tracked the movement.
“We’ll see, I guess,” I muttered. I followed Ratched down the hallway and into the club common area. I’d never been in a motorcycle club before, but it kind of looked like a reverse mullet; party in the front and business in the back. Ratched led me down the hallway from what I assumed was their infirmary. Instead of continuing down to where their church room was, he turned right.
I had to put a little pep in my step in order to keep up with Ratched since his long strides were equal to two of mine. Passing through a set of French doors, Ratched closed them behind us.
“Kitchen and dining area is just down to the right, and to the left is the laundry room.” I looked where he pointed, adding the landmark to my mind map. We passed through a second set of doors, old-timey saloon-style ones this time. Now, we were standing in a large room that was obviously the main clubhouse area. It looked like a dive bar. On the left side of the room were two pool tables and an area to throw darts. A jukebox played near a small open area, probably for dancing. Or ritualistic sacrifice, what did I know?Kids these days are into all kinds of stuff.
There were booths lining the southern wall, where the exit was. I marked this in my mind map, too. Always know where the exits were. Comfy chairs and a few sofas were strategically placed in the center of the room where a large flat-screen TV was perched on an entertainment center against a wall, and the right side of the room held a fully stocked bar lined with stools and an honest-to-Bob spittoon. I took a step forward to see if I could get a hole-in-one when Ratched ushered me to a staircase by the far end of the bar, which led to the second floor and presumably the bedrooms. Spoilsport. Come hell or high water, I was spitting in that spittoon.
Ratched pointed everything out like a good tour guide.
“All the guys are still in church, and the ole ladies are working on dinner. It may be quiet now, but pretty soon, it’ll sound like a frat house.” I’d have to take his word for it since I’d never been in a frat house. Hopefully hiding my ignorance, I nodded like this made complete sense to me.
“Around ten or so, the club girls will show up. They aren’t allowed up in the living quarters unless escorted by a brother, so don’t worry about that.”
“What’s a club girl?” I asked. “Oooh, do they carry clubs and wail on evildoers?” Maybe this place wasn’t so bad after all. I’d join Priest’s cult if I could have a club and a gang of unruly ladies to hit stuff with.
