“I can teach you a bit about checking people out,” Grumbler offers. “Take this Owen. He said he was twenty-one which was wrong, and his name might not even be Owen for a start. What you needed to do was check out his driver’s licence, that would have given you those details.”
“But I trusted him.”
“A man earns trust. His actions always speak louder. Any asshole can open his mouth and promise you the earth. It’s when he gives it to you, you can take that to the bank. Words mean fuck all.”
“His actions were fine.” Alicia’s not contradicting Grumbler. By the way her lips are pressing together, she’s going back over the events in her mind. “He was perfect. He opened my car door, led me into the hotel. The hotel was much posher than I expected.” She glances up quickly. “I’d expected a cheap motel—just somewhere with a bed.”
“Did you know he had money?”
She shrugs. “I didn’t ask. I assumed he’d done more modelling gigs.”
Grumbler rubs his hand over his face. “Apart from checking him out before you went out with him alone, kid, I don’t know what more you could have done. Someone older might have seen some red flags, but honestly, no blame can be attached to you.”
“Thank you.” Alicia moves closer to him, and interpreting what she wants him to do, he adjusts his position allowing her to snuggle under his arm. “I feel so stupid. If I ever have a boyfriend again, will you check him out?”
Grumbler chuckles softly. “That I’ll be more than happy to do, and, sweetheart, it’s a matter of when, not if. Your chance hasn’t come and gone, you know? I can also teach you some methods of self-defence. Or at least, how to kick a man’s balls. Owen deserves some pain for what he put you through.”
“Can you teach me self-defence, too?”
“Why, sure, Mary.” He nods approvingly. “It’s a good skill to know. Now, the arrangements are I’m riding home in your car. That way no motorcycle will be seen at the house.”
“Wouldn’t that be a deterrent?” I ask.
“It would, but after the message Alicia gave me, it might make them start distributing that video. Until we know it’s been taken down and destroyed, we don’t want to do anything to rock the boat. Once Alicia’s reputation is safe, then that’s the time to draw them out.”
We walk back into the clubhouse via the kitchen. Alicia gets hugs from all the club girls who seem genuinely sympathetic to her ordeal, and sad to see her go. Then Grumbler gets back slaps from all the leather-clad men.
“I’ll be there on Monday with a cage to take the kid to school.” A man, wearing a vest which says prospect on the back, calls out. In recognition, Grumbler raises his hand.
“A cage?” Alicia hisses in consternation. “I’m not a freaking dog.”
The man who’d spoken overhears and bellows a laugh. But it’s left to Grumbler to explain. “It’s what we call a car, kid. Bikers don’t like being caged in.”
A few others stop to have a quick word with Grumbler on the way out, more than one offering their help unasked.
“Prez.” Grumbler nods as a man approaches him.
His title made me expect someone who looked rough, scarred perhaps if I were to tell the truth. But in different clothes, the man could pass as a businessman.
“Mary, this is Lost, our prez. Prez, Mary.”
Lost nods. “Nice to meet you.”
I wonder if I should say something about him agreeing for his club to help, but he doesn’t seem to expect it. He raises his chin at Grumbler, then walks on.
Finally we emerge into the warmth of the late summer evening.
I’m half expecting Grumbler to want to drive when we reach my car. Dave always wanted to take the wheel, but to my surprise, he waves me into the driver’s seat, and tells Alicia to sit by my side. Then he folds his body into the rear seat, and settles in for what, for him, will be an uncomfortable ride.
“Park in your garage,” he instructs. “That way no one will see me in the car.” He looks approvingly at the blacked-out rear windows.
I can see by glancing in the rearview mirror that Grumbler doesn’t relax at all during the journey. He’s constantly looking from one side to the other, and also behind us, then peering out in front. His vigilance makes me feel safe.
We reach home without incident. When I’ve parked and the garage door has slid itself closed, thanks to the remote in my car, Grumbler opens the rear door, reaching back inside for his pack he brought with him, then indicates the door to the kitchen.
“Stay here while I check it out.”
“There’ll be no one there.” Alicia rolls her eyes.
“Hey,” he turns. “Look, ladies, I’m here as your own personal bodyguard. Enjoy the service, okay?”
He winks at me, then disappears inside my house.
Within moments—it’s not big after all—he’s back.
“All clear.”
Impatient, Alicia pushes past, then stops and looks at me. “What are we going to eat?”
“Guest’s choice?” I turn my head toward Grumbler and raise my eyebrow.
“Ain’t no fuckin’ guest,” Grumbler chuckles. “And I’m easy.”
“Pizza!” Alicia fist bumps the air.
“Gets my vote.” He nods approvingly.
“I’m going to be outnumbered, I can tell.”
But as I follow them into the living area, setting my keys down in the place for them, and my purse by the side of the couch, I smile to myself. This is how it would have been if Dave hadn’t died. The three of us, together. Would he have guessed Alicia had lied? That she’d had a liaison with a man last night? Would he have rung Marisa’s parents to check? Or have relied like I so stupidly had, on a technical gadget?
Dave’s not here. There’s no
