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Overtime would mean I was getting paid in the first place, but I smile back. I’m used to playing my part. “Something like that. Do you know what’s going to happen to us? How long do you think we’re going to be here?”
She sighs. “I wish I could say, honey. I’m not in the loop anymore, and even if I was, I get the feeling this job is so far off the rails that nobody has the answers you want. All I can tell you is that you could be in worse places. The Sons are a rough bunch of assholes, but this isn’t the kinda club you need to worry about having a pretty girl like Anne around. They might teach her a whole new vocabulary, but they won’t mess with her. You maybe, but only if you’re up for it.”
Anne washes down the last of the protein bar with a big gulp of sugar and caffeine. “What do you mean?”
Without even giving me time to think of a nice way of explaining, Bonnie answers. “I mean we don’t put up with rapists and predators around here. Civilian law might not apply inside the walls, but some things are just being a decent fucking humanbeing. General didn’t let that shit float, and neither does Hellfire.”
It might not just be the guys that are going to give Anne a new vocabulary.
“Oh!” Anne’s eyes go wide. “That’s good. Right?”
“Yeah… yeah that’s good.” I’m struggling to focus. Too much has happened in the past couple hours, and it feels like something out of a movie.
Bonnie seems to understand. She tosses Anne another protein bar and motions to me. “Come on. I’ve got a spare bed in my junk room. I don’t know what Hellfire expected me to do with you two, but he gave you to me so it’s my call now. Just because you’re in a shitty situation doesn’t mean it needs to be worse than it is.”
She flips on the light in her living room. It’s just like the kitchen, colorful and packed full of stuff, but warm and friendly. There’s a well-worn couch with a crocheted blanket thrown over one end. A big screen TV with some sort of video game console underneath, and more pictures of bikers, many of them including that same man from the kitchen photo. On the wall is a frame with two patches inside. One reads “Property of” and underneath, “General.”
I'm very tempted to ask about it, but it feels special. Personal. The kind of thing a friend would know, and I don’t know Bonnie well enough to know if it would be rude, so I don't.
Her junk room is exactly that. It looks like everything she couldn’t find room for anywhere else just gets thrown through the door and forgotten about. There’s nothing gross or dirty about her apartment. It’s all clean, just nothing like the empty,minimalist style that Victor prefers. Every inch of Bonnie’s place feels like her. Warm, friendly, kind of a mess, but in a way that makes you feel like you could curl up on the couch and be at home. Tears spring to my eyes. I try to stop it, but once the first hiccup comes out, the sobs follow right after.
“Are you okay? Jess? What’s wrong?” Anne freezes. For the first time, she looks like she might really panic. Up until now, I think she’s been taking her cues from me. So long as I could hold it together, so could she.
Bonnie’s in the middle of sorting a pile of clothes off the bed. She drops what she’s doing and rushes over, putting her arm around me and helping me sit on the edge of the mattress. “She’s fine, baby. It’s just a lot. Sometimes it takes a while before the feelings kick in. Right, Jessica?”
“Y—yes,” I stammer, trying and failing to keep from bawling.
“Anne, help me get this bed cleared off. Just the clothes in a pile. A night on the floor won’t hurt anything. I think you both could use some sleep, or at least the chance to lie down and not have to be strong for a while.”
I swipe away the tears, angry that I’m finally out of Victor’s reach, and instead of celebrating, I’m crying. This woman looks tough as nails. She probably thinks I’m useless. “I’m fine. I’ll help.”
“Sit your ass down and take a breath for Christ’s sake,” Bonnie snaps. “You’ve seen who the hell knows what today and been taken hostage by a motorcycle club. Instead of going home and curling up in your own bed, you’re stuck here with me. Cry if you need to fucking cry. You earned it. I’ll make sure nothing else happens to either of you tonight.”
10
JESSICA
I wakeup in Bonnie’s spare bed, still in the sweats I was wearing the night before. The curtains are mostly closed, but a shaft of bright sunlight slips in through the side. The clock on the wall says it’s after three in the afternoon, which is completely impossible.
I’ve never slept that late in my life. Not that I remember anyway.
I actually watch the second hand count off two more minutes before I’m willing to believe it isn’t just stopped at that time. Every morning my alarm goes off at six sharp. I have to get ready, put on my uniform and make sure everything is ready when Anne gets up at seven because her tutor comes at eight. Weekends are a little more lenient, but she’s expected to eat breakfast at nine with her father and Marissa.
My heart skips a beat when I realize what’s missing.
Anne.
I jump out of bed and rush into the living room.
Bonnie is on the couch holding a game controller, and Anne is sitting on the floor next to her with a controller just like it.
Anne leaps to her feet when she sees me and rushes over. “I had cereal with tiny marshmallows in it, and Bonnie let me try her coffee! We’re playing Mayhem City Five! This is awesome!”
Oh my God.
I’m not sure if it makes me feel better or not that Anne is acting like she’s on the best vacation ever. She’s going to need a detox and therapy. So much therapy. We both are.
“That’s… great,” I squeeze out, trying to sound supportive.
