Katherine's Kingdom Ch. 02

"Well, it's been my experience that men who find women attractive tend to find a way to take advantage of them, so you'll have to excuse me for my lack of social graces," she said, tapping the table with two fingers. "Now, far as who's after me, have you ever heard of a motorcycle gang called the Hell's Bells?"

Mike could've said he knew about a song by that name from heavy metal group AC/DC, except with both still decades away, Laura would think him bonkers. "No, can't say I have," he said truthfully. "What kind of tiff with them would be so bad, though, to make you afraid that they'd track you halfway across the country?"

"I didn't do any one thing specifically except run. However, once you're in, you're never truly out of the Hell's Bells. Their brand stays with you forever." She lifted her light brown hair in back, where a small yellow bell tattoo with the initials HB was imprinted at the nape of her neck. "Far as what could be so bad about them, how about rape, extortion, and physical abuse? Is that enough for you?"

"I'm sorry." Stunned, Mike didn't know what else he could say.

"What for? You didn't threaten me with beatings and death unless I became a whore for all of Clark County proper, did you? Well, after two years of that and plying me with enough drugs to fill a pharmacy, I took a chance and lit out of there for greener pastures. It was either that or continue to have my self-worth crushed into little pieces. I mean, what did I have to lose? Either die a slow death in Las Vegas, or else possibly get captured one day while on the run and get a bullet between my eyes. This way, at least I have the option to go out under my own terms."

Mike was astonished beyond belief. He felt ignorant for idealizing 1962. Every era, no matter how cozy it seemed, had its warts. "How horrible for you! So much pain..." Unable to control his mechanics, the ex-quarterback's hand reached out to hold hers. Why did he feel so drawn to someone he barely knew? Maybe he had a thing for wounded birds. "Can I ask how all this came about? God help me, you weren't born into this Hell's Bells group, were you?"

Laura's bedazzling eyes drilled straight through into his soul. "Nope, but the actual reality was just as bad; in fact, it might even be worse."

"What could be as bad as the torture that gang put you through?" he asked, now on the verge of a few tears himself. Her tale was just that heartbreaking.

"Have you ever heard the expression jumping from the frying pan into the fire? Well, the Hell's Bells were the fire, and the Immaculate Heart Catholic Orphanage was the pan from which I was fried at an early age. My first memories are of that place. You see, I never knew my mother and father." Her bottom lip might've been full and plump, but right now it was trembling.

This story just kept getting further and further away from happily ever after. "Are you serious?" Mike asked. "What happened to them?"

"Who knows? The orphanage never explained to me the details. Maybe they know something, maybe not. Your guess is as good as mine," Laura said. "Either way, the nuns at that hellhole, the ones that were supposed to protect me, did everything but. They told me I was a child of Satan that must constantly be cleansed of sin, otherwise the devil would keep possessing my worthless carcass. They starved me until I was nothing but skin and bones, plus also beat me to within an inch of my life. I stayed so long because I didn't know any better, and if you experience it long enough, you start to think it's what you deserve."

"Nobody deserves to get treated like a sack of shit." Mike, too late, realized his foul-mouthed faux pas, but she acted like the four-letter word had barely registered.

"You're right, they don't. I eventually became self-aware and realized anywhere but there was a better place, so cardboard boxes and dumpsters in back alleys became my temporary home until the Hell's Bells found me. Anyways, to make a long story short, I already had two strikes against me by the tender age of sixteen. If I was going to strike out, it wouldn't be from a called third pitch. I wanted to go down swinging for the fences, so two weeks ago it suddenly seemed like the right time to step into the batter's box, so to speak. I swiped some petty cash from the gang's treasury and bought the first Greyhound ticket I could out of town. I didn't care where it was going. All I knew is that I wanted to get as far away from those hellish memories as possible."

"I don't blame you. I can't imagine going through anything that horrific." The few brief minutes he and Jessica had endured escaping nuclear holocaust seemed like a walk in the park by comparison.

"I wouldn't wish my past on a snake," Laura said, polishing off her screwdriver. "I just want to put down some roots in a town where nobody knows my name and nobody knows my business. You're the exception, of course."

"Why me?" Mike was confused. He watched his new friend rise up from her chair, as if preparing to leave, and copied the action.

"You cared enough to listen. That's worth more to me than you'll ever know." She scrutinized him again. "You're a hard one to figure out, Michael Montgomery. It's like you're from somewhere else far away, just like me. I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe that's why you've got me so intrigued."

"I...I don't know quite what to say." A moment, a mood, was happening between them right now, and he didn't want to wreck it.

"Then don't say anything." Boldly, Laura stepped forward, clasped his fingers, and pressed lips against Mike's. Electricity raced up his spine. The blood pounded in his veins harder and hotter than he thought possible. What am I doing? I have a girlfriend, were his thoughts. However, they were like opposite poles on two magnets coming together. He couldn't pull away if he tried.

The words were out of his mouth and public record before he could stop them. "Am I going to see you again?" Mike asked as she backed away towards the exit, eyes never leaving his.

"What's your phone number?"

He shrugged. "I just moved into a new place, and won't have a line installed until next week." The ex-quarterback hadn't asked Antonia what her digits were quite yet.

"No problem. Do you work here most nights?" Laura's ear-to-ear smile completely lit up the dank, dim tavern.

"I work here every night right now, actually. Bills to pay, you know?"

"Well, maybe I'll show up here again one of these nights, maybe not. A girl has to keep a guy guessing, doesn't she?" With that and a wink to boot, his mysterious desert rose was gone with the wind.