The SGT at arms and his run-away

Club business and girl business

*Zac*

The sun is high in the sky, casting long shadows as I wait for the guys, casually leaning against my bike. The town is buzzing lazily around me, but my mind’s elsewhere, tangled with thoughts of Willow. Her chocolate eyes and infectious laugh are still fresh, still intoxicating.

The throaty roar of engines cuts through my daydream. Tom and LZ pull up, their bikes kicking up dust and turning heads.

Tom's stern face breaks into a grin when he spots me. "Zac, you ready?" His gruff voice is a welcome distraction.

"I'm ready," I say, pushing thoughts of Willow to the side. There's club business to attend to. No time to be mooning over a woman who is Way to young for me anyways.

Tom nods, glancing over his shoulder at LZ. "We’re off to see that little rat Creed. Word has it he’s been pulling some strings behind our back, and selling someone else's wares."

He drones on, but honestly my mind’s driften of on a rabbit trail and I’m not really listening. Tom tends to talk… a lot.

"Zac, are you listening here?" Tom's grim voice pulls me back to the present. My bike is humming beneath me. I flash him a tight smile, my thoughts still tangled with Willow. Damn, what’s happening here? I don’t even remember turning on the engine.

"Yeah," I reply, pushing her to the back of my mind. We have a job to focus on. Not focussing can have you killed.

We ride out together, the town blurring past us. The tension seems to coil tighter with each passing street, the anticipation of the confrontation ahead hanging heavy in the air.

Pulling up to Creed’s place, a dilapidated building on the towns furthest edge, we kill the engines. LZ’s the first to dismount his bike, his young face set in an unusual grim line for him. "Let's get this over with," he mutters.

Inside, we find our guy holed up in a dingy office. Tom leads the way, his tall frame filling up the doorway, his voice a growl. “Creed.”

“Tom… guys. So good to see you” The weasel squeaks. “What brings you to my humble home?”

"Word is you’ve been making deals behind our backs," Tom i stantly confronts him, the chill in his tone making him flinch.

He starts to stammer, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. "N-no... I swear, I didn't..."

"Don't lie to me," Tom warns, leaning in close. "It's not healthy to lie to me."

"I'm not, I swear!" he whimpers, cowering in his chair.

Tom steps aside, making a motion with his hand and I'm on Creed in an instant. My hands grip his collar, pulling him up from his chair with a force that sends it clattering to the floor behind him. "You think we’re fools? You think we wouldn't find out?"

"I… I didn't…" He protests, but I don't give him the chance to finish.

My fist connects with his face, snapping his head back. Honestly? It feels good hitting him. He lets out a grunt of pain, his eyes watering as he clutches his now bloody nose.

"Toby Sinclair... he threatened me," he stammers out, his voice barely a whisper.

I step back, releasing him. He slumps to the floor, cradling his injured face. “That’s your problem, not ours," I say, my voice icy. "Next time, remember your loyalty. Understand?"

He nods, swallowing hard. "Yes. Yes, I understand."

“f*****g Sinclair,” I mumble, feeling a surge of anger. It's a bitter pill to swallow, that entire family is nothing but bad news, really bad news. Vermin. "Should' killed that bastard when I had the chance." Tom gives me a sharp look, but I brush it off, my mind already plotting our next move.

"That won’t be accepted as an excuse again," Tom interjects, stepping forward. The guy flinches as he towers over him, his fists clenched. "You work for us, remember?"

He nods and whimpers. "I… I didn't have a choice. He…"

"Enough!" Tom cuts him off, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Next time you think about betraying us, remember this moment," he growls. “And if he threatens you again, you inform us right away.”

Creed nods, his face pale and he slumps back into the chair, gasping for breath, blood dripping down his shirt. Satisfied that we have made our point, we leave him there, a broken man in a broken building.

As we ride back, the adrenaline slowly fades, replaced by Willow invading my mind again. Damn She better be there tomorrow.

*Willow*

The cool ocean breeze tugs at my hair as I wander through the quiet streets of Point Morro. Zac's image lingers in my mind, his rugged good looks, the tattoos snaking up his arms, the well kept beard that seems to fit him perfectly. He’s like a page torn from a forbidden book, one that I’ve secretly yearned to read, but has always been told I was not allowed to.

I have no idea what he did to me. Did he even do anything? Why did I feel like I could talk to him? Me who’s usually a stuttering mess in the company of men, especially if I don’t know them. It’s weird, it’s crazy and it’s slightly scary.

My footsteps echo on the cobblestone, the rhythm somehow a stark reminder of the reality I must return to. St Agatha's soon, with its stern matrons and restrictive rules, looms over me like an impending storm.

I can't slip away for another day, the risk would be too great. But Zac... Zac told me to be there tomorrow at the café, his eyes promising adventures I’ve only dreamed of. I so badly want to come.

Passing by the waterfront, I spot a group of bikers lounging around their magnificent machines. Their leather vests bear the same Iron Vipers logo that Zac wore. My heart flutters in my chest. Yet, none of them possess the same allure as Zac. They don't hold that same magnetic pull that drew me to him. To be honest they do scare me a bit.

I push his image to the back of my mind forcefully. It's not just St. Agatha's stern rules that make this impossible. My family would never accept him, would never accept 'us'. I giggle and shake my head, telling myself how silly I am, there is no us… most likely he won’t even be there tomorrow.

But oh, how tempting it is to imagine a world where they might, where the wind in my hair comes from riding on the back of Zac's bike, not from the lonely walk in Point Morro.

The idea makes me giggle again, seriously am I imagining some kind of relationship with this guy I just met? Most likely he’s a ‘f**k them and leave them’ guy, isn’t most of those bikers like that?

As I walk into the boutique, an elderly shopkeeper greets me with a warm smile. "Good afternoon, dear," she says, her voice as gentle as a lullaby.

"Hello," I reply, returning her smile as I start browsing through the racks. I select a light summer dress and a book of poetry that captures my attention.

After paying for my purchases with the credit card my stepfather has given me for emergencies, I head to the grocery store. I fill my basket with snacks, chocolates, and a few magazines.

At the checkout, the cashier, a young girl with a friendly face, scans my items. "You’re stocking up, huh?" she asks, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

I chuckle, "Yeah, got to keep my energy up for studying." I’m gonna share with my roommates under the cover of night.

As the sun begins to dip, casting a warm glow across the town, I realize I need to make my way back to St. Agatha's. Remembering the small bus station on the outskirts of town, I decide to take a bus back to the school. Probably it’s the safer option.

On my way there, I stop at a local coffee shop and ask the barista for directions as I’m not completely sure where it is. "The bus station? It's about ten minutes down that way," she points, handing me a steaming cup of coffee.

"Thank you," I say, before setting off in the direction she pointed. The thrill of my meeting with Zac still lingers in my heart, filling me with a sense of excitement. But for now, I have to focus on getting back to school and hope that no one has noticed my absence.

As I approach the bus station, I notice there are only a few people waiting. I sit on one of the cold metal benches, hugging my purchases close to my chest. The bus arrives on time, and we all climb aboard.

Once seated, I take a moment to look out the window. The town’s quiet in the soft evening light, its tranquility a stark contrast from the bustling city I grew up in.

Suddenly, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around to find a little girl, not more than five or six years old, holding a stuffed rabbit.

"Hi, my bunny likes your dress," she announces, her eyes wide with innocence. I can't help but laugh.

"Thank you," I reply. "I like your bunny’s dress too and yours."

As I chat with the girl and her 'bunny', I realize this is exactly what I needed… a break from the rigidity of school and the complexities of my life. For a moment, I feel carefree, just like a normal teenager.

When the bus finally pulls up to the stop outside St. Agatha's, I say goodbye to the little girl and her bunny. As I step off the bus, I look back towards town, but it was long ago lost in the distance.

With a sigh, I head back to my dorm, ready to face whatever comes next. But for now, I'm just glad to have had a little adventure.

*****

The room fills with laughter and whispers as I start to share the day's events with Clara and Nicola, my roommates. Having known them for two years, they’re some of the very few people I can be myself around. I unwrap the candy I bought, the sweet aroma filling the room. As we each take a piece, they lean in closer, eager to hear all the details.

"Guys, I met someone today," I begin, leaning back against my pillow. Clara and Nicola exchange a glance, before turning their attention back to me. Their faces light up with curiosity and anticipation, eager for the juicy details. “A guy… A man really.”

"Really? Who? What’s he like?" Clara asks, her eyes sparkling with interest.

I take a deep breath, my heart fluttering at the memory. "Well..." I trail off, a smile playing on my lips as I remember. "He’s not the type of guy we usually talk about."

Nicola raises an eyebrow, "Oh? Do tell."

I play with the wrapper of the candy, the anticipation building up in the room. As I pop a piece into my mouth, I finally spill the beans. "He’s a biker. Older. And..." I blush slightly, "so, so sexy." The room fills with laughter and whispers, the thrill of the unexpected revelation filling the air.

Clara clutching her pillow to stifle her laughter. Nicola grins at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "And let me guess, you two just talked?"

I nod, my cheeks hot. "Yes, we just talked. But he asked me to come back. Tomorrow."

There's a moment of silence as they take in my words. Clara’s the first to break it. "You have to go back," she says, her eyes wide. "You could have a real adventure. With a hot sexy biker.”

Nicola nods in agreement, her smile encouraging. "Yeah, why not? It could be fun. I’ve heard those guys are like… super kinky."

The idea’s tempting, the thought of seeing him again sending a thrill down my spine. But for now, I'm content with the memory of our brief encounter. I smile at them, grateful for their support. "Maybe," I say, leaving the possibility hanging in the air.

We spend the rest of the night laughing and dreaming, our imaginations taking us far away from the confines of St. Agatha's. And as I drift off to sleep, I can't help but look forward to the days to come.