Blue Fire

Chapter Seven - Her Name Is Sara

CATCHER

I was in the shop looking over the engine of a '93 Honda Civic. Just like yesterday when I brought it in and looked at this engine I noticed it was in good condition. The sparks were all up to date, she'd changed her fan-belt recently and her oil was fine.

The rest of it was a heap of junk. Rust was eating up her doors and the hood, her tires were on their last breath and the car looked like shit underneath. But the engine was immaculate. She cared about it, this car, and I could see why. It was probably the only thing she had that was valuable. I'd looked at her jewelry in the safe this morning, stuff that Green had put there since he didn't know where else to put it because I hadn't wanted to give her a key to my room, and saw it was all cheap shit. Her clothes were okay but definitely not brand-names. The shoes she'd worn yesterday at the cookout were falling apart, her jacket was stylish but the leather was old and worn, her shorts seemed like they had once been jeans and that maybe she'd turned them into shorts out of necessity since the legs had been too busted. So, her car was the only good thing she had. It was a piece of shit, but it was what she had and she took great care of what she knew to take care of. It was obvious that someone somewhere at some point had shown her a few things about how to take care of it considering I was guessing she couldn't have afforded to take it in to get that belt changed. If she had ever afforded that, any mechanic would have blanched at the idea considering the state of the body, the tires, the belly of the car. Fan-belt might have needed changing, but there were bigger issues that they would have taken care of first.

No, she'd done it herself, or gotten someone close to do it. But what little I knew of her, I wasn't thinking she had that many people close enough to entrust with her most prized possession.

I wiped my hands on a rag and tossed it aside when I heard the door to this bay open. I'd expected him earlier and when I turned to look at him I understood the delay. He was pissed. No, not pissed, he was fucking fuming.

"Green," I greeted the man. He looked like warmed over shit, his hair messed to hell, his clothes wrinkled and his eyes blood-shot. He needed a good night's sleep. But he wanted something else.

"What did you say to her?" He asked and stopped a few feet from me.

There could only be one her. "Nothin'."

"Either you're lyin' or she is. And considering she was willing to walk ten miles to get away from here, I'm guessin' it's you."

I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. "Brother, why would I lie?"

"I have no clue. All I know is that she left in a state because she suddenly started believing that we all think she's less than us, that we stuck Pile on her last night so she wouldn't come in contact with our women when you fucking know that Pile made that choice himself to stay by her all night. We all did. No one fucking told us to and yet she believes we were guarding her so she wouldn't be in contact with the family. I'm wonderin' why that is?"

"I don't know."

"Really? You don't know? Nothin' about her being stripper-pussy and having no self-respect? Nothing about keeping her away from our women? I find that hard to believe."

He was geared up and fucking reeling to try to kick my ass. He wouldn't because he respected me and I in turn respected him. But I could see it in his eyes, he wanted to give me a pounding right now and I didn't know why.

"She is stripper-pussy, that's not news to you or me since we saw her strip."

He shook his head and sucked in a breath. "I fucking know she's a stripper. What I'm askin' you is how she came to think that meant that we don't think she respects herself, why she thinks we were talkin' to her last night out of pity and only to get in there and why she thinks that none of our women wanna talk to her because she's trash. That's what I wanna know."

"I can't give you the answer to that, brother."

"She seems to think you can, she told me to ask my VP. I'm askin' my VP because that shit doesn't sit right with me. She got so bent out of shape she decided to walk back home, she decided to hide in the woods from me when I was lookin' for her all of which ended with her fucking herself up. She's in a bad space, man. She thanked me for being her friend today and ended that with saying 'even if it is an illusion'. She heard something being said about her last night that made her think we all think she's shit under our boots. She doesn't even believe I'm her fuckin' friend after spending all day with her and staying by her side as she was in the hospital. That has to come from somewhere, and you still have no answer for me?"

I sighed and let my stance go. "She could have overheard some shit."

"What shit?"

"That redhead, A-somethin' asked about her in the common room. She was fishing to know if she was going for old lady to someone since she's obviously not a hanger, I told her the truth."

Green geared up to punch me in the face but held back. His entire body went solid and his eyes were locked so tight on me that I might have believed he could take me.

"What truth?"

"The truth that she's stripper-pussy, and that's not old lady, that's a good time you get rid of, because an old lady has to respect you and herself. She has no respect for herself and I'm not judging that, I just told the truth about what she is. She isn't sticking around, she's here for anyone to have fun with and then she'll be gone because a woman like that won't do."

"Are you even hearing yourself? A woman like what? One who likes ridin', one who's wild and loves life, one who's tough as nails and sweet as sugar, one who takes on a man like Pile and turns him into putty? That isn't old lady to you?" He shook his head and raked a hand through his hair, messing it further so now it was sticking up all over the place, making him look like he was electrocuted. "Look, I know I answer to you but fuck it. You've listened too closely to Stark's bullshit. He's got burned and so have you, but you need to get a fucking grip. You've been through hell but man, that shit's passed. Not every woman is Emma. Sara did nothing but be exactly what an old lady would be. She was kind and funny, she listened to Luke's shit for hours, she offered to bring everyone drinks even though the boys were running themselves ragged getting hers for her, she spent two hours with Layla in the kitchen making enough fried chicken to feed an army, she thanked each and every one of us as soon as we asked her if she wanted anything. She answered any question we asked with grace, she smiled and greeted people who walked by even though they weren't looking at her because they are as stuck in the past as Stark is. I'm not sayin' she'll ever be an old lady, but you looking down your fucking nose at someone like her is not what this club is. It's not what any of the old ladies are and they still did because of his bullshit even though she was picture fucking perfect all night."

I startled because it struck me I didn't know her name. "Her name is Sara?"

He shook his head in disgust at me. "Yeah, her fuckin' name is Sara. Sara Gulliver. She's about to turn thirty years old and she's never had a place to call home apart from that fuckin' trailer we took her from and the car you're standing beside. She grew up there, man, a child of two junkies one of whom was good with cars so she learned shit which is why the engine of that is in as good a shape as it is considering the thing should be in scraps somewhere. She left when she was fifteen and has been on the wind since. She came back to settle down, both her parents gone in a car accident about a year ago and left her that trailer and a fuckload of debt. She wants to get her GED, get some decent work but that didn't happen right away. She was broke and she needed an income to get out of that shithole, she started stripping because it was that or lose whatever roof she had over her head. That's stripper-pussy with no self-respect for you."

He turned around and left. I heard the pipes of his bike roaring to life and him skidding out of the lot.

Sara.

Sara Gulliver.

Sara with junkies for parents and a taste for the wild. Sara with a smile that lights up a room. Sara who strips. Sara who broke her body to get away from the notion of her being less. Sara whose glitter still stuck to the back of my cut from when she rode with me pressing up tight and screaming with euphoria. Sara who had a plan.

I sighed and turned back to her car.

We'd give her a place to call home.

For a while.