Elizabeth
Angel’smadeitclearthat he hates the thought of me being in my apartment alone. I couldn’t believe it when he told me that for the first week we were hooking up, he’d spend hours in the parking lot leaning against his bike, keeping an eye on my door until sunrise. Every day this week, he’s picked me up from college when he’s finished at the garage and taken me home, before dropping me off at the diner for 9 p.m., then picking me up again at 3 a.m.
I tried to tell him that he doesn’t have to, that he’s not my chauffeur, driving me to all my commitments and making my ridiculous schedule his own, but he’s having none of it. And I’m not about to complain, if I’m not at college or working, we’ve basically been in my apartment having sex, he’s insatiable. And as much as I’m reluctant to admit it, and the feminist in me rolls her eyes as I even think it, I find his protectiveness over me incredibly hot.
So far, we’ve kept ‘us’ quiet from everyone, it’s easy for me to do, as I only speak to Donovan and Ana over text and neither of them have asked me outright if I’m seeing anyone. But I hate lying to Donovan, even if it is lying by omission.Usually I tell him everything, and I mean everything, and keeping such a big thing from him is eating me up inside.
But I’m not ready to share what Angel and I have with other people yet, I don’t even really know what we are, other than exclusive. We’re having sex, he sleeps at my apartment after my diner shift, he holds me and kisses me, tells me that I’m his and he’s mine. It feels like more than sex, but honestly, I don’t know.
I have no idea how Angel is keeping ‘us’ quiet from the club, though he assures me that he is. I don’t know what reason he gives them for skipping out every day when he’s finished at the garage, only to return after 9 p.m., before disappearing again at 2 a.m. until he starts work the next morning. What do they think he’s doing? Especially Tank, Pretty Boy, and Slim; the four of them are usually inseparable in the evenings. I guess I’ll find out tonight though.
On Fridays I only have morning classes, so I’ve been relaxing at the apartment this afternoon, then I’ll catch a bus to the clubhouse ready for when they finish work. It’s literally taken all of my powers of persuasion to get Angel to agree to me catching the bus, explaining that if he disappears and returns with me, it will be obvious to everyone what’s going on. It doesn’t stop him checking in on me though… I chuckle as I open our messages.
Let me know when you’re on the bus.
I quickly type out my reply before hitting send.
Heading to the bus stop now.
I’ll let you know when I’m on.
Within seconds I get a response.
Thanks
So, I’d been right before, he’s shit at messages, always so blunt and to the point. He doesn’t even think about how other people might read it or interpret his intention. One night in bed, we scrolled through our messages about me going to visit Donovan and laughed at how we’d both completely misunderstood each other’s texts and what we’d actually meant.
We barely text though as we see each other so often, so now I don’t mind the bluntness so much, and in person, his communication has improved so much. He actually tells me what he’s thinking and feeling, which I never thought him capable of before we started hooking up. Grabbing my backpack, I lock up and head to the bus stop, reminding myself to update him once the bus arrives.
“Who is it? ¿Quién es?” Walrus calls, but his voice sounds different today, more on edge.
“It’s Beth,” I call back, before hearing the lock drag and the gate slide open.
“Beth.” Walrus nods at me, as always, a man of few words.
“Hey, long time no see.”
I’m met with a grunt before he walks back to the office. The yard is empty of people but full of bikes, even some I don’t recognize. Feeling curious, I make my way to the clubhouse.
Upon opening the door, silence ensues and there’s tension in the air, the opposite to the banter and laughs that usually fill the space. All eyes are turned to me, most familiar but some new, their gaze probing. The club is split over two tables, one with Angel, Pretty Boy, Tank, and Slim, and the other with El Jefe, Tipo, some of the girls, and three guys I’ve never seen before. I want to head straight for Angel, but one of the new men lifts his chin at El Jefe, who in turn calls me over.
“Hey,” a couple of the girls say, while Tipo lifts his beer to me and gives me a reassuring nod.
“Um… hi everyone,” I say, trying, but failing, to hide the nerves in my voice.
“Beth,” El Jefe says, his voice is tight and his posture much stiffer than usual. “These are our guests from another club, Diablos Rojos.” He nods his head at the men, before nodding at me. “Beth is a friend of our club.”
“It’s been a while,” Tipo says with a smile, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
“Yeah,” I say, “college and work have been keeping me busy, but Donovan made me promise to come and see you this weekend, so here I am.”
“And how is Donovan getting on?” El Jefe asks.
“Great, he loves it,” I say, “I’m not sure he’ll want to come home.”
“Is Donovan your boyfriend?” One of the Diablos Rojos men asks me.
He’s wearing a leather cut, just like the ones I’m used to seeing, but instead of a Lobos Aulladores patch, his says Diablos Rojos and an image of a red devil adorns the back. He’s younger than El Jefe, but older than Angel, probably in his mid-thirties. He’s handsome, with dark hair and striking gray eyes. If I wasn’t exclusively seeing Angel, he’d absolutely be my type. Imogen certainly seems to agree with me as she’s practically draping herself over him, but he shrugs her off as he turns to face me fully.
