Wrong Move

6 - The Wall

Wren

"Can I get a whiskey?" I asked Casey who had her lower lip so far out she could trip over it. It wasn't a good look on the beautiful girl, and the buzz in the bar felt off because of it. It surprised me to see her behind the bar for once. Even though she technically worked there, she always wriggled her way out of shifts. Prez let her get away with it because she was Frame's daughter and they were tight old boys. Prez only had two boys, so Casey was like a de facto club princess.

She didn't reply but grabbed a glass and set it on the bar mulishly, topping me off with a sloppy dram.

"What's bit you?" I asked, wondering if she was angry with me. I'd barely spoken to her in two weeks and, if I was honest, had been avoiding her. Ever since that night at the country bar, I'd felt off kilter, and when we'd finally gotten back to the clubhouse, I'd been more than ready to kick the night away. Casey had slid in next to me, pressing little kisses to my jaw and rubbing against me. It should have been everything. I should have been raring to go, but? I'd sighed internally. I was getting ready to fuck a girl like it was my job. So I'd turned her down. Said I was too tired and lay awake for the rest of the night, wondering what the hell was wrong with my dick and why it wouldn't work for the girl I thought I'd wanted for so long. But it didn't feel right and the more time I spent with Casey, the more the sheen wore off. 

She and I were just too different. 

Casey didn't want labels and in the end, that worked out for me. I didn't call her, didn't text her or seek her out. She called me a few times, but it was half-hearted and I think we both knew it didn't feel right. I knew she had moved on already, was sneaking around with Mission. He'd asked me if I was cool before he hit her up. The brother had loyalty. I didn't care. There was no jealousy, no feeling.

"Nothing," Casey snapped before turning back and spilling her guts. "I had plans for tonight, and Taylor ruined them. I don't know where she gets off. It's not like she was doing anything. She's probably sitting at home watching a movie. She's meant to be family. She could have done me a solid and taken my shift, but no! She basically hung up on me and wouldn't answer any of my calls. It's plain selfish," she finished with a huff. The way she was slanting her gaze over to where Mission was laughing with the boys. I imagined she had plans with him.

"Taylor really is busy sweetie, not that it should make a difference" a gruff voice interrupted and I watched as her dad, Frame, leaned on the bar, raising a bushy eyebrow at his daughter. "Friday is your night on the bar, and Taylor has been good enough to take it over for you when she used to work here. You'll have to pick it up around here or Prez will give your shifts to Jade. She serves drinks with a smile, you know"

Casey pouted, her hands flying to her hips.

"What plans could Taylor have that are more important?" she said, and I cringed at the entitlement that was oozing off the girl. I hadn't noticed how ugly this aspect of her was, the spoiled and selfish side. Casey was fun. She was outgoing and energetic. You wanted to spend time with her and have her flash her full smile at you, but this? It was showing me how shallow this girl really was, complaining about having to do her own work and not have Taylor pick up the slack. Taylor normally worked every Friday, so that meant Casey had been getting her to cover her shifts for a while now. She wasn't even grateful, not even a little. She was just pissed that Taylor had said no for once. What had prompted it I wondered, and a chill went through me. What plans could Taylor have on a Friday night?

"What she up to?" I questioned, in what I hoped was a casual way.

"Taylor got her own place. She's busy moving the smaller stuff over. I'm popping by tomorrow with a few guys to take her furniture over." Frame didn't know he'd dropped a bomb in my gut and continued addressing his daughter while I grappled with the news of Taylor getting her own place.

"Look, I love you, my girl, but you can't rely on Taylor to clean up after you anymore. Technically, she's not a part of the club, now that she's moved out of my house. You gotta step up, show Prez you deserve the work. If not, he's gonna put someone else on"

Casey made a disgruntled noise, which I almost didn't hear over the roaring in my ears.

Taylor wasn't part of the club anymore?

"What are you talking about?" I said, swallowing my whiskey to dislodge the lump in my throat. Frame gave me a once over before he shrugged.

"She's not an old lady, she's not a club girl, and she isn't living with me anymore. I explained it to her before she decided, but she was adamant. As much as I like to keep her close, I get it, she wants to do her own thing. She's a big girl and there was nothing keeping her here."

"She's your niece! She spent most of her teens here after losing her parents, this club is all she knows. We're her family," I protested, dumbfounded by what I was hearing.

"She don't see it that way," Frame grunted. I looked around the clubhouse, booths jammed with burly guys and scantily clad woman scattered around the place. We packed the walls with frames of bikes, bottle caps, and other memorabilia that had built up over years. The wall was a tradition, the heart of the club. There was something on the wall for everyone, because we were a community. I spied mine, a feather in a frame. My first solo ride, a bird had slammed into my helmet, the feather getting stuck in the visor. Combined with my name Wren, it was the eventual inspiration for my road name. Further along I saw a set of cards, a full house. That was Casey's. She was eleven when she'd cleaned out everyone with a smile and a wink that foreshadowed her cheeky, charming personality. I hunted the wall. I knew everything that was hung there, who it was for and why.

"Where's Taylor on the wall?" I said, unease seeping through me. I got up from the bar and walked closer, hunting through the packed frames to find something that was Taylor's. God, even Jade was on the wall and she'd only been there a few months. A chicken fillet that had flown out of her bra one rowdy night and hit Prez in the face. Frame stood beside me, hunting closely. He'd be able to tell which was hers.

"I'll be damned, I don't know" he scratched his head. "Gotta be here somewhere. Everyone from the club is on the wall."

I spent a long time searching, attributing different objects with other people, but I never found one thing that was for Taylor. Frame told me he had offered to host a party for her, to celebrate her moving on from working at the bar and getting her own place. She'd turned him down, preferring to slip away quietly. Who could blame her? If she never walked through those doors again, who would notice, apart from me? The club was a family, but we'd all let Taylor down. She had known for a long time that this wasn't her home. I'd contributed to that. My treatment of her had been the last straw. I wanted to be sick.

"I'll be there to help with the furniture tomorrow," I told Frame on the way to my room. I kept walking, didn't want to give him a chance to rebuff me. I needed to dig up something that I knew hid in my room somewhere. Something that I'd held onto for a long while, not understanding why I couldn't bring myself to throw it out. Now I understood. I'd needed it to prove I saw someone, their voice was important, and that they mattered.

I just hoped it wasn't too late.