Patience: Biker Romance (The Davis Chapter Book 1) (5 page)

The place was packed. My first thought was that I’d have to yell to be heard. There was laughter, singing, and the almost constant clatter of glasses ringing out. Directly inside the bar was a handful of tall tables and stools. The first thing that caught my eye was the back of somebody’s leather vest. In large letters across the top and bottom, it read RISING SONS MOTORCYCLE CLUB. In between the curving letters was a stitched picture of light beams coming from a skull’s mouth. It was morbid and poetic at the same time.

Somebody at the table must’ve noticed I was staring, “You still hung over or something?” He raised an eyebrow at me. The other two men with their backs to me turned.

My mouth dropped open a little bit as my heart sped up. His voice and eyes were hostile, and I felt more out of place than ever. I wanted to turn around and bolt, but I had to know the truth.

If I wanted to get answers, I had to fit in. Giving him my cutest smile, I said, “Just a little. Mind pointing me towards the bathrooms?”

His eyes and traveled up and down my body, and I’m sure they weren’t disappointed. Patience only had the kind of clothes that bikers probably loved. Her wardrobe consisted of skintight jeans, skintight T-shirts, and barely there underwear. I picked the best of what I could find, and apparently it was doing the trick.

He tilted his head behind him, “Back of the bar; where it’s always been.” As I walked past him, I saw a recognition in his eyes. He knew me, or he knew Patience. Had she already checked him off the list? More questions without answers. He grabbed my arm before I got too far away.

“I’ll let the boys know you’re here.” He had to shout the words over the noise of the crowd, but the sexual tone was unmistakeable.

Not knowing what to say, I smiled. Why should they care that I was at the bar? I headed deeper into the bar, keeping an eye out for Rising Sons vests. If Patience had been making her way through them, they were the ones I wanted to focus on.

It was hard to see through the crowd. I would spot a Rising Son through the crowd, but with all the people, getting to any of them was tricky. The crowd opened up at the actual bar, and I figured while I was there, I would get a drink. I had probably never needed one more in my life.

“Patience! Hey, girl. Glad to know you survived last night.” A woman in a Hooters top smiled and waved me over. I found an empty spot and leaned in.

“Yup, I made it through.” I didn’t want to jump straight in with
who the hell am I?
I already thought I was crazy, I didn’t need everyone else to, as well.

Priorities,
I told myself. “Hey, did I happen to lose my phone in the fight?” If my cell phone turned up, I could find out everything I needed. I’d have access to my email, contacts, everything about who I was.

Her face went wide with surprise, “Oh my God, you’re carrying a cell phone now? It’s about time you get out of the Stone Age. Every time we have a girls’ night out, you are always the hardest one to hunt down. This is fantastic, let me get mine and grab your number!”

So I didn’t have a cell phone. Maybe Patience really was from the Stone Age. I was going to have to spill the beans. My clever attempt was a failure.

The woman behind the bar turned back to me, and I destroyed her elated face, “No cell phone, sorry. I’ve actually got a bigger problem, though.”

The look in my eyes must have been enough to convince her that I was serious. “You need to talk?” I nodded. “ Patience, what did you do this time?”

I didn’t know how to respond, “I… I don’t know.” All the frustration that had built up throughout my entire day came out.

There was disappointment on the woman’s face. My heart ached just to see it. Whatever kind of woman Patience was, she did make life easy for those around her.

She shook her head and lowered her voice, “Give me a minute to get the bar covered. I’ll meet you out back.”

Down the hallway with the bathrooms, there was a backdoor. I followed the bartender out the back and into the relative quiet of the world outside.

She gave me a look that told me she had children of her own. I saw disappointment and shame in the bartender’s eyes.  I didn’t know what I had done, but I felt my own shame. I felt sorry for what I had done, or what I must have done.

“Please, I don’t know anything, and I need your help.”

She shook her head, “Patience, if I had a nickel for every time you’ve asked me for help, I’d buy you a god damn clue, woman.  When are you going to get your shit together?”

I grabbed onto her hands.  I hoped for a touch of familiarity, but there was nothing but the cold look in her eyes. She pulled away, “Patience, don't suck up to me. I have enough to worry about.  You of all people should know that.”

“But I don’t.”  There was fire in my voice, and she must have seen it in my eyes, too, because hers went wide.  “I don’t remember anything since waking up this morning. I woke up next to Thunder with no memory at all!”

She shifted her look back and forth. The bartender was lost, and I could sympathize. “Are you serious?”

I nodded, “I don’t know your name.  I don’t know my name.”

“Your name is Patience.”

“My
real
name. Believe it or not, that’s not my real name.”
 

Her blank stare wasn’t helpful. I extended my hand. It was cheesy, but cheesy was about all I had. She looked down at my hand, then gave me a cock-eyed look, “Um, I’m Donna, I guess?”

Donna gave me a smile, even if she was still digesting what I had told her.

We shook hands, “I’m Patience, for the time being. Look, if I don’t have a phone, and I didn’t leave my purse here last night, I’m screwed.  There’s nothing in my car and nothing at my apartment with my I.D. on it. Thunder is the only person I know.”

“You...you aren’t kidding.” Donna broke the handshake. “The fight?”

Giving Donna a shrug, I looked around, “That’s the best guess that Thunder could come up with.  I woke up with one hell of a headache and no memory.” I raised my hand up to the back of my head. The huge went was still there. “He told me about the fight. Nothing came back to me. I don’t know if it’s temporary or permanent.”

“Patience, oh my god!” She threw her arms around me, and for the first time since waking up, I felt a hint of compassion. Thunder had helped me, but he was a stoic man. I couldn’t imagine him with his arms around me, at least not the way Donna’s were. Thunder was probably more of a throw-me-up-against-the-wall type.

Donna rocked me back and forth, still taking it all in. “You poor thing. What are you going to do? Does anyone here know your real name?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, “That’s why I’m here.”  I let out a groan as she squeezed a little too hard, “Oh god. I’m hoping someone here knows my real name. So far, nothing.”

She pushed me away, a serious look on her face, “Did you go to the police?”

While trying to come up with a decent reason why I hadn’t, she beat me to it. “Of course you didn’t. With your history you probably-- Wait. If you don’t remember anything, you don’t know your history, but you still didn’t go to the police? I don’t get it.”

“Thunder told me as much as he knew. I figured I’d try and get ahold of a purse or phone before I went to the police.” Her words caught up to my brain. “What history?”

Donna pulled out a pack of smokes. She leaned toward me and pulled out two cigarettes and handed me one, “You’ll need this, trust me.”

Apparently Donna and I had been close ever since I appeared at the bar. That was the word she used:
appeared
. She made it sound like I apparated from nowhere. I just showed up at the bar one day and started notching my belt when it came to Rising Sons. She told me that with my looks, it wasn't much of a challenge. Donna’d worked at the Watering Hole since the Sons opened it, and we became fast friends.

“Never told me about your past, though,” she said, drawing in a long, slow breath. As she exhaled the faint, blue smoke, she went on, “I never pried, mind you, but it always worried me. I just hate to see a younger girl like you do that to herself.”

It ached to hear Donna talk. It was as if she was scolding me and telling me about another friend at the same time. I felt guilt, even though there was no memories to associate it with. I ached, and I wanted to apologize for something I couldn’t even remember doing.

“Did you ever talk to me about it?” I asked, flicking the ashes from the end of my untouched cig.

She nodded, “Every chance I could. You told me that you had a plan, and then you gave me this look that only a twenty something gives. I tried to tell you that you weren’t going to find a husband plowing through a Harley dealership, but you just shook your head at me.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I knew what I was thinking.” My voice was low as I took in Donna’s story. I disliked Patience more and more as I learned about her.
 

She put a hand on my shoulder. There was pain and sincerity in her eyes, “You didn’t take my advice a few weeks ago, but maybe you will now. That fight with Lisa last night should have been a wakeup call. Do you know what you were doing? You were hitting on her husband. Stache is a full-member of the Sons and a married man, and you were trying everything you could to fuck him. She put a hard whooping on your ass, and I can’t say I blame her.”

“Donna, I--”

She raised a hand, “Not done, sweetie. Not done. Maybe what happened was a gift from God. A chance to start over. Did you consider that?”

I hadn’t. The entire day, I had thought about how awful it was; the feeling of being lost and empty without a single memory to ground me. The last thing I had considered that my memory loss had happened for a reason. The only reason was the fact that I had gotten into a drunken fight and gotten knocked ass over teakettle.

She didn’t wait for me to reply, “I think you should. Clean slate and all that. Here’s what I’d do: I’d talk with Trask. He’s the president of this chapter. Tell him what happened, and then get your life together. You still want to hang out here? Fine, but start working to change your reputation, Patience. Sorry, it’s a force of habit. As for your name? Go to the damn police, already.”

Donna’s words rocked me. In some ways, she was even tougher than Thunder. She was absolutely right, though. Whatever kind of person Patience was, I didn’t want to be. Even Donna didn’t know what Patience was running from, and they seemed to be close friends. Whatever-- or whoever-- it was that Patience had chasing her; it must have been bad.

Trask was the start. I headed inside to talk with him. Back inside the crowded bar to look for the man with PRESIDENT on his patch. It was nearing the time when I’d have to head to the potential meeting at the dam, and I wasn’t any closer to a real identity. Everything Donna told me about Patience just made me hungrier to find out who I really was.

As I wandered through, weaving between all the burly, manly men, the thought struck me that an ex might have been after Patience. She got in too deep with some asshole, and so she changed her name, moved to some shithole apartment and did whatever she had to for protection, even if that meant fucking bikers until she found one willing to stand up for her.

Of all the theories I had entertained, that one made the most sense. If Patience was in hiding, should I be digging up her past? What if that was why thinking of the police got me all worked up? Before I had time to stew in my latest theory, I spotted him. It was hard not to. Trask seemed to be a foot taller than everyone else, like he was looking out over his subjects.

Three other bikers sat on barstools around the table, but he stood. They were laughing about something, but the second that Trask spotted me, the smile drained from his face. The reputation that Patience had preceded her. It felt like being trapped in someone else’s body.

With a stone look on his face, Trask nodded to me, “Patience.” His voice was as cold as his look.

My heart could barely keep up. I could see the disdain in his eyes. I couldn't imagine what he thought of me. Trask was a no-nonsense type. Everything I’d learned about him told me that he was tough. Patience might not have been intimidated by him, but I was.