Page 8 of Property of Sugar
My thoughts were interrupted when Birdie appeared in front of my car, hands on her hips. “Get out and tell me what happened.”
I don’t know how she knew, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. Swallowing thickly, I rolled down my window. “Can you move your car first?”
“Fuck,” she said quietly. “If you’re trying to hide something, go ahead and back it in.”
I nodded and waited for her to move her car. Then I backed into the carport as far as I could. Birdie pulled her car in front of mine, leaving only a few inches between our bumpers.
“Get your ass inside and turn that shit off,” Birdie said, gesturing to the outdoor lights.
I did as she said and waited for the inevitable. It didn’t take long. “What in the hell happened?” Birdie demanded as she quickly turned off every light in the house.
I opened my mouth to tell her, but I didn’t know where to start.
“I’ll slap you if that’ll help.”
“A man grabbed me from behind and covered my mouth. I stabbed him and ran,” I blurted.
“Oh, sweet Jesus.” Birdie braced herself against the wall with one hand and pressed the other against her chest.
Moving forward, I reached for her. “Birdie!”
She held up her hand to stop me. “I’m okay. My gummy kicked in at the wrong time. I’ll sit while you explain what the fuck you just said. Unless we need to get out of here. Then I’ll find us a flight while you pack.”
I helped her to the living room and told her a watered-down version of the story. “I had a date with a guy I matched with on an app. When I knocked on the door to his hotel room, a man came up behind me and put his hand over my mouth. He told me he would snap my neck if I made a sound. I stabbed him and ran like hell.”
“Why did you have a knife?”
Shit. I hadn’t thought about having to explain the knife because it wasn’t supposed to happen the way it did. Since I wasn’t prepared, I answered with a truth that would have been better kept to myself—a truth that caused her great pain. “Because I know how to use one.” Birdie sucked in a sharp breath while I covered my face with my hands in shame. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that I know I can defend myself with one,” I rushed out. “I was meeting the guy in person for the first time, and I wanted to be safe.”
“Is that who you stabbed? The guy you were meeting?”
“No,” I said confidently. “I barely got a glimpse of the guy out of the corner of my eye, but it was enough to know it wasn’t the same man I’d been video chatting with. And their voices were different.”
“Give me all the details but make it quick. Where did it happen? Is he alive? Were you seen? Are there cameras? We need to figure out if we need to report it,” she said.
“I stabbed him in the outer thigh—I don’t think it went all the way in—so he should be alive. I heard him yelling for help. Other than the guy I stabbed, I don’t think anyone else saw me. I wasn’t wearing this.” I gestured to my clothes. “I changed in thecar and took my hair down. I don’t know if they have cameras, but I parked across the street, so I’ll look like one person at the hotel and another at the bar.”
“What hotel and bar?” she asked urgently.
“I don’t know the name of the bar, but the hotel was Charli’s Place in Kahakai.”
Birdie’s eyes widened as she slowly raised her hand to cover her mouth. Shaking her head, she whispered, “No, no, no.”
“What?” I nearly yelled. “What is it?”
“They definitely have cameras. Charli’s Place is owned by Charli Brown, wife of Cooter Brown, President of the Kings of Anarchy MC. The Kings own the bar across the street, too. Liquid Anarchy.”
“What?” I shouted and started to pace. A motorcycle club. The bar and hotel were owned by a motorcycle club.
“Yeah,” Birdie said knowingly. “You better hope you stabbed someone who shouldn’t have been on their property and not one of the Kings. They’re gonna look for you either way.”
“Fuck,” I said. “Wait. How do you know so much about the Kings?”
“I went to high school with a guy who joined the club and started going by the name Coochie. We kept in touch for a long time after we graduated,” she said. “On the bright side, they’re an outlaw club, so we don’t need to worry about the cops.”
I grimaced. “Do all the Kings have names like that? Cooter and Coochie?”
“Yes. Why?”
