Alpha's Moon

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

Sadie

Sadie, are you heading to the plaza? I’ll be there too. Let’s catch up after your girls’ night. The text beeps through on my phone and makes my stomach twist into a dense knot. The message may sound friendly, but it registers in my body as an assault.

I am so done with Scott Sears and his attempts to win me back.

What part of “it’s over” did he not get?

I roll my eyes and shove my phone back in my purse, shifting my ridiculous but precious package back under my arm as I duck through the crowded Taos restaurant after work.

It’s dinner time on a school night, and while most nights I’d rather go home and chill after teaching kindergarteners all day, it’s Wednesday.

Whine Wednesday, as me and my girl posse like to call it, and Whine Wednesdays are sacred.

“Sadie, over here.” Adele waves from her seat at a table on the patio. The knotted muscles in my neck relax a hair when I see her and the rest of my friends. Tabitha and Charlie slouch in their chairs but sit up a little straighter when they see me. Adele remains sitting with her back ramrod straight.

My friends are the best. We’re all different, but it works.

Adele’s the polished, always-put-together Creole beauty who owns the local chocolate shop. She’s our mother hen, and always looks perfect in her vintage clothes. Tonight she’s in a 1950s style swing dress, the moss green color perfectly complementing her golden brown skin and green eyes. Instead of a jacket, she wears a shawl in taupe with gold thread. She’s the fancy one in the group, and she owns it.

Tabitha often wears vintage clothes too, either from the 1920s or 60s and 70s. Somehow she pulls off a sequined flapper dress one day, giant bell bottoms the next. Today she lounges loose-limbed in her chair with a beaded headband and a yellow jumpsuit. Another one of her Cher outfits, and she looks the part with her olive skin and narrow face.

Charlie is Charlie. She’s the shortest of us and the most fit. Most of the time, I see her in a blue button down shirt and sturdy navy shorts or pants—her post mistress outfit. Her job gives her a perpetual tan that matches her short blond hair. Right now she’s wearing a faded t-shirt that reads “In my defense, I was left unsupervised.”

And me, I’m just Sadie Diaz, Taos native. Kindergarten teacher, brown eyes, brown hair. Average height, average weight, average everything. Tabitha tells me I dress like a kindergarten teacher, whatever that means. The kids love my kitty earrings and brightly colored ballet flats.

“Glad you made it,” Charlie smiles at me. She’s already got a margarita in front of her, and I try not to look too jealous.

“Sorry I’m late,” I say and swing my bag off my shoulder. “I had to pick up a package.”

Tabitha grimaces at the black toy box I set on the restaurant table. “What the hell is that?” Her voice is loud enough to make several fellow restaurant goers swivel their heads to our table, but she doesn’t care. She leans back, nose wrinkled as she regards the toy.

I get why she’s making a face. The stuffed toy inside is a cross between a demon and a jackrabbit, with red eyes, antlers and fangs.

“It’s a jackalope,” I say, my tone apologetic. All three of my best friends lean in to inspect the toy box.

“Oh I’ve heard of these.” Charlie picks up the box and wrinkles her nose as she reads the back print. “It’s the hottest toy this year. Sold out in most states.”

“I ordered mine nine months ago,” I admit. “The kids in my class can’t stop talking about it. There are parents willing to commit murder to get one for their kids. That’s why I have it here. It just came in, and I’m not letting it out of my sight.”

“How does this work? Oh yes.” Charlie pushes a red button marked, Try me! on the clear plastic, and creepy laughter echoes from the box. The monstrous toy shakes, and its red eyes flash. “Don’t you want to play?” it mocks in a voice straight from Poltergeist.

“Holy s**t!” Tabitha chokes. “What the hell?”

“Oh, hell no.” Adele shakes her head, so her soft brown curls bounce around her face as she holds up a hand. “That is too creepy.” She shivers and tugs her shawl around her. With the sun going down, it’s getting cool.

“It is creepy.” I examine the toy more closely. “The first time I pressed the button, I almost dropped the box. And I knew it did that.”

“Press it again,” Tabitha says with a wicked grin. Adele rolls her eyes.

“You sure?” Charlie hovers her thumb over the button.

“Do it,” Tabitha has a maniacal look not unlike the demon jackalope.

Gritting her teeth, Charlie pushes it. “Don’t you want to play?” a sinister voice whispers from the toy box.

“Oh!” Adele and Tabitha both cry. “Put it away,” Adele orders. Tabitha looks like she wants to push the button again.

“s**t,” Charlie says emphatically and places the box at arm’s length away from her on the table. “Kids really like to play with this stuff?”

I shrug.

“Kids these days,” Adele says, straightening her silverware beside the empty place where her plate will go for the fifth time. “Way more into scary stuff than I ever was.”

“At least it’s not baby Cthulhu. Those were super in last year,” I say. The waitress bustles up with her tray full of our drinks, and I take the toy and carefully set the box back in my bag.

“So you got one for your class?” Adele asks.

“Yeah. Only one, so they’ll have to share.”

“You are the nicest kindergarten teacher ever.” Tabitha salutes me with her strawberry margarita. “And that’s saying something. That bar is high.”

“To Sweet Sadie,” Charlie raises her Fat Tire in toast.

“Sadie,” Tabitha and Adele join in, raising their glasses.

I flush and sip my mango margarita with them. My friends are the best thing in my life right now. I love them like sisters, even though we couldn’t be more different.

“You didn’t want a margarita?” Tabitha asks Adele.

“No,” Adele sniffs and swirls her red wine in the glass.

“They’re really good,” Tabitha singsongs and flips her long, straight red hair over her shoulder.

“No thank you.” Adele tips the glass, closing her eyes and swirling her wine to inhale the bouquet.

“Snob,” Tabitha mocks gently.

“Leave her alone.” Charlie’s voice is a little loud, but it’s not the alcohol talking. Charlie just likes to be loud. She balances her chair on its back two legs for a second then lets it fall to all fours with a thud. “Someone should be drinking wine,” she pronounces. “It is Wine Wednesday.”

“You mean Whine Wednesday,” Tabitha corrects. “We agreed when we started this tradition we don’t actually have to drink wine, we just have to whine. So who’s going first?”

“Sadie.” Adele’s green eyes pierce me over her wine glass. She sees everything, and she’s our unofficial mother hen.

“Sadie? Everything all right?” Tabitha asks.

“Who do I have to kill?” Charlie adds and plants her elbows on the table. “Is it Scott? I will f**k him up.” She means it too.

“Everything’s fine.” I sigh and set down my margarita.

“Nope, come on, spill.” Tabitha waves her fingers in a come hither motion. “What’s Scott up to now?”

“Are you guys back together?” Charlie’s brow furrows. “I thought after... The Incident…”

“The Incident? Is that what we’re calling cheating now?” Tabitha runs her finger around the rim of her margarita, collecting the salt.

“We’re still broken up,” I say. “But he wants me back. He just texted again, asking if we could meet tonight.”

“Seriously? He cheated on you!” Both Charlie and Tabitha explode.

“Shhh.” Adele lifts a hand. “Calm down, Sadie’s talking.”

“Thanks.” I give her a small smile. “We’re not getting back together. I told him no, but he’s being really persistent.” I glance down at my phone in my bag. I turned it off after that last text to get some peace. At any given moment, I could have several missed calls and unread texts from Scott.

“Persistent how?” Tabitha asks, her eyes narrowed.

“Texts, phone calls,” I tell my friends. “Gifts. He sent flowers, chocolates.”

“Did he get the chocolates from The Chocolatier?” Charlie asks Adele.

Adele shakes her head, still looking at me. “No. He knows if he comes into my store, I’ll roast him alive.” She says it delicately, but I have no doubt in a run-in between Scott and Adele, Adele would win.

“Okay, so Scott brought you subpar chocolate,” Tabitha says, emphasizing subpar as if this is the most egregious sin. And in our group, it is egregious. “Then what?”

“He just won’t stop reaching out. The other day, he and my dad were outside the school. Scott said it was for a development meeting, but I think he planned it right when I would take my kids out for recess.”

“Gross,” Charlie says.

“That is just like Scott. So shady. Why doesn’t your dad see it?” Tabitha fretts.

“Because Sadie’s dad is the same,” Adele says firmly. “Birds of a feather.” She looks me right in the eye and raises a slim brown brow.

I keep silent because she’s right. My dad loves Scott and his development ideas way more than I ever did. He has our marriage all planned, so then, the two of them can take over all the real estate in the area. Adele is right. Scott is a carbon copy of my dad.

“You’re going to resist, right?” Tabitha bites her lip. “You won’t take him back?”

“No.” I have no intention of letting Scott in ever again. “But he won’t stop. You know he won’t just take no for an answer.”

“Gross,” Charlie says again and drains her beer. The rest of us finish our drinks too, and when the waitress comes by, we all order another with our food.

“Can we help?” Tabitha asks once the waitress is gone. “Maybe we can talk to him.”

“No, don't do that. Knowing Scott, it’ll make things worse. He’s just used to getting what he wants.”

“You can’t trust these real estate developer types,” Charlie says around a mouthful of tortilla chips. “So pushy. They make deals all day and then come home and think that’s the only way to relate to another person.”

Tabitha agrees, and she and Charlie launch into one of the Taoseños’ favorite topics: the evil real estate developer.

“I’m sorry, Sadie,” Adele says quietly to me.

“It’s okay. Let’s talk about something else. I don't want my crappy relationship stuff to ruin our night out.”

Adele squeezes my hand but doesn’t say anything

Fortunately, I’m saved by the roar of motorcycles across the plaza. Four big bikes manned by giant bikers roll up to the plaza and stop in an alleyway next to the pedestrian only area.

“Oh jeez,” Tabitha groans. “More Easy Rider fans recreating their journey through the Southwest.” Ever since the iconic sixties film, bikers have made Taos part of their pilgrimage. That’s in addition to the huge annual biker rally up in Red River over Memorial Day that brings over 20,000 bikers to the area.

Something about these guys is different, though. They don’t look like Easy Rider hippie types. Nor do they have the long beards or hair that goes with some biker gangs. These guys are huge and fit. Broad shoulders and barrel chests. Thick, muscled thighs.

Oh God, am I looking at their thighs?

We fall silent as they dismount and file past the restaurant window. They are covered in leather and tattoos, like you’d expect, and all of them wear aviator shades.

“Damn,” Tabitha murmurs, slouching lower in her chair.

“Yikes. I’ll bet if you brush up against one of those guys, you’ll get testosterone poisoning,” Charlie sniffs. The four bikers pause right in front of the restaurant patio. They stand in a badass cluster, talking.

One of them isn’t wearing a leather jacket, just a black leather vest that leaves his arms bare. When he pulls off his aviator shades, his biceps bulge, practically as big as a basketball. The tattoo on his arm—a black wolf under a full moon—ripples, and the muscles in my lower belly clench, hard.

The biker who just removed his sunglasses swivels his head slowly in our direction. He’s got dark hair buzzed into a crew cut, leaving nothing to mar the masculine lines of his face. Wowza. His coffee-dark eyes flash weirdly in the dusky light. A jolt runs through my limbs. He’s looking straight at me.

My hand, of its own volition, rises into the air.

“Sadie!” Tabitha whisper-shouts. “What are you doing?”

I honestly don’t know. I can’t seem to look away from the guy, who is about as much my type as the lamppost behind him. Still, I give a little wave. The biker jerks up his chin in salute. A shock of electricity runs through me, tip to toe, like I've been struck by a mini bolt of lightning. The man’s perfect lips twitch into the hint of a smirk, and he turns back to his buddies.

The biker guys finish their conversation and stride away. Their heavy boots make no sound on the stones, but the air of the square seems to crackle. The dark haired biker looks back, right at me, and winks. Another zap, and my heart trips over itself.

“Wait… did that guy just wink at you?” Adele exclaims.

I laugh. “Yes, I believe he did.”

“Oh sweet baby Jesus,” Tabitha groans.

“Those guys are scary,” Charlie jerks her thumb over her shoulder.

“I don’t know,” I muse. “I thought he was kinda hot.” Scott was tall and handsome, and prided himself on his gym made muscles. But stand Scott next to that dark haired biker, and my ex would look like a bobble head toy.

My friends’ mouths drop at my admission, and then we all dissolve into girlish laughter.

I look out the window to see where they went.

“Who are those motorcycle guys?” Tabitha asks the waitress when she comes with our food.

The woman shrugs. “I see them around here from time to time. Sometimes on their bikes, sometimes in one of those army looking trucks.”

“Seriously? A Humvee?” Charlie’s eyebrows climb. She knows cars.

“Is a Humvee like a Hummer?” Tabitha asks.

“No, it’s a military vehicle,” Charlie answers. “Not all of them are road legal. Are those guys former military?”

“I don't ask, honey,” the waitress says. “I keep my mouth shut and look my fill.”

“See,” I point out. “She thinks they’re hot, too.”

“I didn’t say they weren’t hot,” Tabitha mumbles, taking a drink of water.

“Do they ever eat here?” Adele asks. Her water glass is half full, and she’s still clutching it.

“No, they don’t stick around long. When they’re not on their bikes, they load up on supplies and head out,” the waitress says.

Charlie taps her lips. “I thought they looked more military than biker gang. The way they stood, you know? Shoulders back and chests up. And their buzzcuts.”

“I was just looking at the one with the wolf and moon tattoo,” I confess.

“They all had wolf and moon tattoos,” Adele says.

“Really?” Tabitha squints at Adele.

“Yes.” Adele doesn’t say anything further.

“Can you imagine Sadie showing up with a guy like that as her new boyfriend? Scott would s**t a brick,” Charlie says.

“So would her dad,” Tabitha agrees.

Adele chokes on her laugh. “Oh god, that would be hilarious. Can you imagine the look on Scott’s face?”

It’s my turn to grab my water and drink deeply. I can just imagine Scott’s face if he saw me next to a biker man like that. He’d throw a fit. But I don't want to think about Scott. What would it be like to date a guy like the biker? Would he be great in bed? Assuming he’d look twice at me. That kind of guy, those muscles, bare and sleek spread out on my comforter…

A flush spreads over my face. I clutch my empty water glass. There’s not enough water in the world to quench this desire.

“I was just kidding,” Charlie says with an alarmed look my way. Like she’s guessed at my thoughts. How far I’ve run down the road of trying on that giant man as a partner. “I was totally kidding. Those guys definitely aren’t safe.”

“If they’re military, they’re probably a lot safer than a biker gang,” I reason.

Charlie shakes her head. “Even if they are, they’re trouble. I would never date a military guy. They are man-whores and adrenaline junkies. Definitely not boyfriend material. Especially not for you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I demand.

“No, nothing. Just that you’re sweet, Sadie. I only suggested it to be funny. I figured you’d never, ever date a guy who looked like them.”

I shrug my shoulders. “Well, you never know.”

My friends all give me sharp glances, and I wink to make them laugh again, but something rebellious and bold has taken root inside me.

I sort of love the idea of shocking every resident in this small town who thinks they know me by hanging around a big, bad biker.

But Charlie’s right. That’s just nuts.