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While fighting the urge to cold-cock this mouthy son of a bitch, I clenched my fist, removed his hat, and tossed it to the floor before clutching a tuft of his hair. “I have seriously had it with your mouth,” as I pulled back my fist, someone behind me held it.
“You need to step outside and get some air, Char. He’s not worth it.” Dallas told me, but I jerky to release my hand, picking up the mouthy man’s hat. I peered over my shoulder, smirking at Dallas, and smacked the mouthy man’s head with his hat and dropped it in his lip.
“For your information. I will not be your president because I am female and I can think of better things to do than spend my time in a room surrounded by lewdness and vulgarity. If you must know, Austin Marquez is taking over for my father, since Dallas is a traitor. So if you have any issues, you take it up with him.” I faced Dallas. “It was nice knowing you, Mr. Two-Face. Have a pleasant life.”
DALLAS
Char had every right to be mad at me since I gave her the brush-off. I hated being lied to, plain and simple, but she had a good reason for what she did and I think it was going to do some good. It was so much easier years ago when it was an irreproachable rival. Yet, after one poker game, it turned combative, malignant and blood was shed. I suppose if she hadn't carried out the nom de plume of Johnny Wayne, Tyler never would have found out and the combat would’ve continued for many more years. It was a wonder he could persuade Kennedy to help reestablish peace amongst the chiefs and their Indians.
Was this all Char’s doing? Maybe. But who knows, she’s taken off again and with how hateful she was to me, it was highly doubtful she’d even speak to me.
I ran outside, hoping to catch her before she took off, but no sooner had she climbed on her bike, she was already hightailing it out of the parking lot. “It’s not hopeless,” Mushu said from behind me. This man had a bad habit of sneaking up on me, therefore most of us call him Ninja Dragon. He likes the name and thinks it makes him sound cooler than he truly is.
“What’s not hopeless? Continuous peace between both clubs? Or that Austin will be the new president?” I chuckled at the notion of Austin being in charge of anything. Even though he’s the man of the house, it’s my sister-in-law who clearly wears the pants in that relationship.
Mushu crossed his arms over his chest, never giving me eye contact as he stared out into the parking lot. “I was talking about Char. She’s pissed at you because you’re treating her like the plague since you all found out she was Johnny.” I opened my mouth to reply to his comment, but he continued to speak. “Come on, you can’t deny you sensed she was Johnny. No guy is that pretty.”
I burst out laughing. “I knew there was something off about Johnny, but seriously did not know it was Char. It was the hair and the brown contacts that threw me off. But damn, did she do a terrible job pretending to be a normal dude? Here is one thing that blew my mind about her—that girl can shoot a gun better than we can.”
A wide smile appeared on Mushu’s face. “That she can do, for sure. But I feel sorry for whoever marries her—her cooking is least to be desired. Speaking of which, are you going to go after her?”
I shook my head. “No, I need to give her a bit of space or she’ll grow to hate me. I will reach out with her when I get to Anchorage.”
Mushu heavily sighed. “You’re an idiot. She’s proved to be honorable, and she’d be loyal to you till the end of time if you give her the opportunity to. She’s proven that equality isn’t a trend. It’s 2022 and our rules are antiquated and should be changed. I think for the first time, she’s taught old Dallas Marquez that he can love someone else besides himself. Are you in love with her?”
“Psh—no—Lord, no.” He glared at me, unconvinced. I didn’t realize my fondness for Char was so obvious. “I’m crazy about her, not in love with her.”
“Well, I suggest you get on your bike and chase after her or you’ll lose the chance to tell her before she flies to Rhode Island tomorrow morning.” Mushu walked back into the clubhouse, leaving me dumbfounded. Yup, that’s it. I blew it.
Char may have changed the dynamics between the clubs, but I was too stubborn to forgive her. Too afraid to tell her I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life.Charlene Dixon was more trouble than what it was worth, but it's trouble I don't want to live without.
EPILOGUE
CHAR
It had been a year since I made it home and there was no way I was going to spend another holiday alone. I tried to make it home during Thanksgiving and Christmas, however, weather didn’t permit nor did this heavy criminal case I was involved in. My father was disappointed, but he understood or gave me the belief he did.
My father, along with the other Nanuq Shila members, not to mention the Aklark members, were getting the club ready for the annual Fourth of July BBQ. To see them work together was odd and not threatening to kill each other was even odder. I teased the men and called them the Stepford Bikers. They didn’t get the joke and clearly; it went over their heads and I saw that as a cue to stay out of the way of chaos.
Remarkably, my father was hobbling on a crutch, as opposed to being confined to a wheelchair, which shocked the doctors in Anchorage. They were certain he’d never be able to walk.
Oh, yeah, and Genevieve, the hospice nurse? She’s soon to be my stepmother. Honestly, I saw that coming. There was some chemistry that I never wanted to bring up with my father to spare him from embarrassment.
Are me and Dallas a couple now? Nope! He called me often from the time I was at Officer Candidate School in Rhode Island to when I arrived at my squadron at NAS Whidbey Island. Yet nothing conspired from it. Though, I was surprised he wasn’t here to celebrate the fourth of July with the rest of his ‘family.’ Nor was there any word whether he was going to show up.
“Have you seen Dallas since you’ve been back home?” Mushu asked, and I leaned on the steering wheel, arching an eyebrow.
“I’ve been home for a day and you haven’t called me, nor have I hardly heard from you for a year and the first thing you ask is if I’ve seen Dallas?” It was irritating for a man who claims to be my best friend to distance himself. “For fuck’s sake, I leave to make my dreams come to fruition and everyone forgets about me. Like, I’m out of sight, out of mind.” I lied to Mushu about Dallas. He called me when I first arrived in Rhode Island, apologizing profusely. After we forgave each other, we talked on the phone, sometimes did some Facetime. at least once a week. However, there was never a confession of adoration from either of us. But a girl’s heart is a locked tomb and not everyone needed to know that I spent the year pining after Dallas Marquez; a man who, in my mind, saw me as a friend and nothing more. It was heart rendering, but under the circumstances, it was understandable why we couldn’t become closer to one another.
“We have all day to talk,” Mushu groaned when I rolled my eyes. “Oh stop. I hate talking on the phone, for one, and Mirabel would have my balls in a vice if she caught me talking to you.”
“You didn’t even text me. You’ve got no excuse.” I wanted to drop this conversation. It was only becoming a petty argument based on his lack of communication skills. It was best to consider the source. Mushu never really texted me that much when I was at home. “I missed you, Mushu.” I missed him, but there was an awkwardness between us now and our friendship was more strained since the whole Johnny Wayne debacle. He was a bit cold to me, but I think that had more to do with his possessive girlfriend that he mentioned to me. Apparently, she was jealous, although she had no right to be. I didn’t desire Mushu at all, and I didn’t even live in Seward.
Hours later. Nighttime. I was flat on my back, lost in a different world, gazing at the stars before the firework show started. Not that I was trying to be unsociable; I ate too damned much and was so stuffed I couldn’t move, nor did I want to. I was quite comfortable in this position. Honestly, I was digesting everything to make more room for the ice cream sundae bar.
“You’ve always been the anti-social type, haven’t you?” Hearing Dallas’s voice startled me and I quickly sat up, suddenly feeling bashful. He was even more devilishly handsome to me than before I’d left for my Naval career and euphoria consumed me as his woody cologne wafted in my direction.
“When did you get here?” I asked and shyly turned my head while twisting my hair nervously. It took a year for it to grow back to a tolerable length, but not nearly as long as it was before it was cut off. Also, I grew accustomed to the dark brown and never went blonde again.
