“What’s wrong?” I shove the computer off my lap and stand up, adjusting my tank top and jean shorts. Jim swears the house has air conditioning, but in this early-July, record-setting heat wave, I’m calling bullshit.
Inviting herself in, Ruby puts her hands on her hips and surveys the space. It’s a little barren, I’ll admit. When I got here two months ago, all the room had was a tall, wooden dresser, and a used full-size mattress set that sat on the floor. Ruby immediately apologized for not getting me a new one, saying she hadn’t had time to go find one. I was close to taking her up on the offer of buying me a new bed until she mentioned it was Ryan’s old mattress from before he moved out. That’s when I decided to keep it and just get a good frame for it.
The room says little about me. I haven’t accumulated much since arriving in Fort Bragg. The walls are empty, and I’m using Ryan’s old bed set. My closet has enough clothes and shoes in it, and I have quality beauty products now. But as far as putting my stamp on the place, I just haven’t felt like I should, even though Ruby’s been mentioning that we need to fix it up for weeks now. I think she’s finally reached her breaking point with me avoiding the topic.
“This room,” she says, pursing her lips. “We have a ton of shit to get for the party tonight. But before that, we’re fixing up this room.”
“Okay,” I say quietly as I fiddle with my belt loop. Her expression softens as she points at my bed and nods. She moves to sit on the edge of the bed and I follow. Taking my hand she looks into my eyes and lets out a heavy sigh.
“Why don’t you want to fix up your room?”
I squirm under the attention. I’ve been avoiding this conversation the past few weeks. Knowing it was coming, I did what I could to prepare an explanation that would make sense.
“What’s going to happen to me?” I whisper. I’ve been holding that question in for two months now. Ever since I woke up that morning in a haze to Gloria ushering me off into my new life. So loaded with the potential to break me, I don’t want the answer. Not really, anyway. But Ruby needs to know why I’m so hesitant to settle in and make my mark on this place.
“You’re going to live happily ever after,” she quips. But I shake it off, unimpressed with her response.
“What’s going to happen when my father’s family finds me? What’s going to happen when he has his men shoot up your house just like Jim and the guys did his?”
“Mike knows exactly where you are. We weren’t quiet about our presence, if you remember.” She always refers to my father as Mike for some reason. Even my mother called him Carlo, which is my father’s middle and preferred name. She takes my face in her hands and, with teary eyes, says, “There are four roads in and out of this town. We’re isolated. The club has friends in all of the surrounding precincts. When I tell you that you’re safe, I mean that bastard is going to have to go through me and the entire fucking club, across three thousand miles, and through a bullet to his chest to get to you.”
With that declaration, I burst into tears. Nobody, not even Gloria, has ever promised to protect me like Ruby just did. My body sinks into hers as she wraps her arms around me while I cry. Eventually, I pull myself together and wipe away my tears.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”
“You were born, baby,” she says, placing a kiss on my forehead.
AN HOUR LATER and we’re heading into town. Our first stop is the club house/garage so Ruby can get money from Jim for the party supplies. I’ve only been by the clubhouse twice and inside once. It smelled awful, and every surface I touched was sticky. I choose to pretend I sat and put my hands in spilled beer, rather than what Ian alluded to, which is just nasty. At exactly the moment I reacted to Ian’s comment, Ryan stepped out of a back room, zipping up his fly. He barely looked my way as he steered down a hallway and out of sight. It was the only time I’ve seen him since I arrived in Fort Bragg.
Ruby steers her red Chevy Suburban onto Main Street from Oak and quickly maneuvers into the left lane, where she turns into the Forsaken Custom Cycle parking lot. The shop is on the corner of Main and Alder. Behind the Forsaken property line is a few hundred feet of dirt and rock before the ground drops down into the ocean. I’ve never gotten close enough to see for sure, but it has to be at least a twenty foot drop down into the water. The dirt lot between the water and the club’s land is property of the federal government, as it once served as a military post.