by Jessica Joy
“We’re here for the 10:00?” I say to the unimpressed woman behind the counter.
“The class is full, come back later,” she snips, clearly annoyed. God do I miss Proctor, the people there are at least nice about it when they tell you to fuck off.
“Umm, ok, well we already paid for our slots so we’ll just be going back then?” Tessa says, sliding the printed paper with our tickets. Bitch with the top pony snatches the paper and checks it against the computer.
“Oh, yes, sorry. Studio 2, on the left.” She vaguely waves to the hallway behind her and goes back to her novel. Jesus, what crawled up her cooch?
We make our way down the hall to the door with the big number ‘2’ on it and step inside. The class is just about to get started and there are a handful of women getting their space ready with an instructor at the front. I scan the room of the thirty to forty something moms to find the one that doesn’t fit. Oh, yeah, there she is.
The lithe woman at the back who is warming up brings a sad smile to my face. Roxy. She notices us walk in and gives a little head tip to the spaces she’s kept open around her. Tessa and I make our way to the back of the class and set up on each side of her.
“Ladies,” She says quietly. The room has that crappy but calming ambient music playing along with some white noise through a bunch of tiny speakers in the ceiling, achieving a kind of muffled pressure on the ears and keeping conversations close. We should be able to talk if we keep things quiet. Roxy’s good at this game.
“Hey Rox,” says Tessa, putting her bag at the back wall with mine and rolling out her mat. We both start to stretch a bit in an attempt to warm up before the class starts. The instructor isn’t here yet so we’ve still got a few minutes. “How are you holding up?”
“Better than you two by the look of those outfits,” she says with a raised eyebrow. Yup, that’s Roxy, establishing dominance in ten words or less. No wonder King took her as his Ol’ Lady.
“It’s been better,” I say, trying to feel less like a bug on a needle with her stare. “But between the men playing at being bad ass, shitty coffee, and the attempts on our life, I suppose I can’t complain too much.”
“Ha! That’s the spirit girl.” she smiles sadness in her eyes but mirth on her lips. This poor woman must be dealing with so much. She lost her man but with that came the loss of her family, the loss of her home, the loss of her world. She’s a stark reminder of what could happen to me before this whole thing is done, could happen to any of us. My thoughts must cross my face more than I think because her humor fades and steel slides into place. “I’ll not take any pity from you little girl. I’m here because you said I can get revenge on his killer. I will make him pay, dearly, whoever he is.” The edge in her voice tells me all I need to know. This woman is ready to kill, there will be no squeamishness, no hesitation, just sudden and violent action. Gage’s insight here was spot on; we can’t tell her everything, not today. She is too close to it all to keep calm and carry out the plan to its complete ending. Sometimes they are right when it comes to women.
The instructor comes in and interrupts our little conversation as she introduces herself and starts guiding us through the beginning of the workout. We settle into the warm rhythm of the class, each of us enjoying the warmth and heat of the movements. During a little lull in the class, I pick up where we left off.
“There is a plan, it’s a messy plan but we need someone at the Compound to coordinate events,” I whisper under the din of the class.
“I figured that much out,” Roxy says, not even slightly out of breath and doing the motions easily. My time in the loft has made me soft.
“Rox, we need you to bring some supplies to the men back home,” Tessa says, nodding back to the bags we toted in at the beginning. “Just bring it all to Tinker and he’ll take care of the rest.”
“You’re cutting me out of the plan aren’t you?” she says, anger simmering under the surface.
“When it comes to the action, yes,” I say. No guts, no glory. Her withering gaze turns to me and if I had a pair of balls, they’d be up where my ovaries are now. Jesus this woman is terrifying when she’s pissed. “We need you Roxy, but you’re too close. Too hot for what needs to happen.”
She seethes at the rebuke but I can see her eyes calculating, thinking about it, and acknowledging that she isn’t clear headed. She looks in turn at Tessa then me, seeing if there is a crack to exploit but finds nothing, both of us resolved in this plan. She huffs and goes back into the rhythm of the class, taking every move in the hardest and deepest stance she can. Tessa and I just try to keep pace, working up a sweat and feeling wrung out by the time the instructor wraps it up and leads cool down.
Roxy finally comes out of her head and glances sideways to me, her eyes closed while she breathes deeply. “Just tell me this; when everything is said and done, will he pay? Will he feel anything close to what I’ve been feeling every night when I go to bed alone? Will he suffer?” tears are leaking down her face, mixing with the sweat of the workout. This is the first crack in her composure that I have seen since they came barging in those months ago and announced King’s death. I hope I can be half as strong as this woman when I grow up.
“Yes Roxy, Yes he will,” Tessa says, her face stone but her eyes glistening. “I can personally assure you that every debt will be paid.”
“Good. Then I’ll leave you to it,” she says, standing and making her way to the hook where her towel is hanging. The class is dispersing as we clean up and grab our bags to follow Roxy to her rental car. As we’re loading the bags I take a little pouch from the side of the bag and grab Roxy’s attention.
“I need you to be sure to give this to Kiki, only to Kiki,” I say, handing her the little black velvet pouch. “You don’t need to tell her anything, it’ll all be taken care of, but if anything do not lose this.” She takes it from my hand and simply looks back at me, measuring again.
“Why are you in this? Why are you even here? You never liked it with the Sons, you fought it tooth and nail,” she says, slight confusion entering her voice.
“It’s ok Lex, tell her. Tell her about the morning at the bar back in the rec room,” Tessa says, moving away from us and back to our car, leaving us alone. Roxy simply quirks an eyebrow and waits for me to start talking.
“Love the man, Love the Club,” I start, not sure how to really say all this. Her eyebrow raises even more at the phrase, clearly not expecting that answer from me. “I have found what I didn’t see in front of me before… the accident.” She crosses her arms and simply waits, knowing that I’ll get there in my own time.
“Gage. It’s Gage and it always should have been him from the moment he stopped me from running out of the Compound that first night. He is everything to me, I just wish it wouldn’t have taken him being hurt for me to realize it.”
“A good woman needs to be strong, she needs to know when to listen and she needs…” Roxy starts, but I finish her sentence for her.
“She needs to know when to stand her ground and tell her man he’s being stupid.”
Roxy nods along, not minding the interruption. She has clearly followed Tessa’s logic and knows what was said. “And are you ready for this? Are you sure you’re ready to put yourself in a position like mine? Knowing what it could cost you?”
I bite my lip at the thought, the thought of seeing Gage broken again, the thought of losing him entirely and not just a few memories. I clamp down on the tears threatening to fall and I look back at her deep brown eyes. “With all my heart. I don’t want to lose another second with that man. He has become my rock, my shelter, and I his. I will do whatever it takes to keep him safe and keep him with me. He is my family now. And wherever my family is, that is where my home is. I don’t ever want to lose that, ever again and I will do anything to stop from losing it.” A few tears fall before I finish, but I can feel my commitment turning to steel, ready to follow through on my words.
Roxy looks at me and her eyes ha
ve gone soft and warm, a few tears pricking the corners but not falling. “I’m sorry I doubted you,” she says softly. “I’ll see you in Minnesota.”
With that she opens the door to her car, cranks the engine, and pulls out of the lot. I watch her drive off as Tessa pulls the car over to me.
“Ready to go lil’ sister?” she says, rolling down the window.
“Yeah, let’s go kill somebody.”
Chapter 28
Gage
Rolling up to the Compound gates for the first time in almost four months is surreal. This place that has been my home for so long it should feel familiar shouldn’t it? Instead, a profound sense of wrongness has settled into my gut.
The large iron gates swing open, Cotton waiting to let us in with one of those cheesy ass grins of his. As much as I want to smile back and greet him properly, I can’t muster more than a brief chin lift as Sawyer drives our truck past him and to the parking lot.
There’s a sickness in our house. It’s time to cut it out.
Before Spartan can park the truck, Cotton is standing by my door, damn near bouncing like a fuckin’ puppy waiting for his person to come home. Hobbling out of the truck, Cotton nearly knocks me off my feet as he pulls me in for a tight ‘man hug’, pounding me on the back twice before stepping away again. Only then does he notice my sling, boot, and cane.
Do I technically still need them? Fuck no. But a man has to cultivate his image, and a little extra sympathy never hurt anyone.
“Fuck Brother. Didn’t realize you were still this fucked up,” Cotton says, eyeing my cane like it’s about to jump up and bite him in the dick.
“Gee ye fecker. Ye always say the sweetest things,” I snipe back, throwing him a dirty look. “Remind me why I wanted to come back to ye ugly feckers?”
“Cuz your sorry ass missed my delightful personality,” Cotton laughs as Spartan rounds the front of the truck.
“Good to see ya Brother,” Spartan says.
“Spartan,” Cotton says, throwing him a chin lift in greeting.
“Fill us in,” Spartan says, getting straight to business. There will be time for the tearful reunions and manly feelings later; time to take the trash out.
“Bones and Padre are in Duluth getting basics, they should be gone for at least a few hours. Old Man and Iceberg left on a fishing trip last week and no one’s heard from them since. Other than that, most of the heavy hitters are here tonight,” Cotton explains as we slowly start making our way to the massive main doors of the Clubhouse.
“Heavy hitters. Give me names,” Spartan snaps.
“Us, Tink, Tully, Bowie, Grumpy, Red, Axel, Mike, Ike, Switch, Ratchet,” Cotton lists quickly.
“Red? Thought he would have gone fishing with the other old timers,” I ask.
Cotton shrugs, “Decided he’d rather stick around and have a drink.”
“And the rest?” Spartan prompts.
“Kiki’s behind the bar, rest of the women know tonight’s a testosterone only zone. As for the rest, they are generally milling about but most are here, in the Clubhouse,” Cotton explains as we reach the door.
Spartan claps Cotton on the back in acknowledgement and turns to me. “Ready for this?”
Throwing him my most winning smirk, I assume the most gimptastic stance I can manage and motion for him to open the doors, laying on the dramatics. “I’m ready for my grand entrance… Announce me.”
Spartan and Cotton both groan and reach for the doors, each pushing one open as the three of us walk in as a unit. If this were a movie, it would be the part where the heroes burst on the scene, smoke machines billowing behind us, and that Thin Lizzy song The Boys are Back in Town playing over it all. Well, it’s almost like that… my ass hobbling in wearing this damn boot and a sling and using a fuckin’ cane kind of putting a damper on the badass factor of it all. The three of us make our way down the short entry hallway, each heading our respective ways when we reach the common room. Cotton heads over to the couches with Tully, Mike, and Ike, and Spartan takes up a post resting against the far wall, watching everything play out.
Me on the other hand, I make my way over to the bar and behind it, nodding at Kiki as I sidle up next to her. She gives me a wink and bumps her hip off mine before heading to the other end of the bar, pulling fresh beers for Grumpy and Switch.
As expected, it takes Axel less than a minute to notice our arrival and head in my direction. His controlled stride and staccato movements bely his calm exterior. The fire burning in his eyes tells me just how happy the fucker is to see me. He pulls up to the bar and draws a stool back, half sitting on it, half leaning on the bar. His eyes are screaming murder and it takes every ounce of my restraint to keep my winning smile on and to not take the bait.
“What brings ya back… Brother?” he pauses, clearly weighing his words and how to approach the situation.
I laugh at the word choice, “So, Brother is it? I’m surprised ye’d still call me that. Brother,” I snip, my voice going cold and all humor leaving my face. The shot takes Axel by surprise and sets him back a bit and his eyes darting over to his cronies. He’s checking to make sure he’s safe. Oh my friend, you are nowhere near safe.
“Of course Brother, Once a Son, Always a Son.” He throws on a smile thinking he’s got control of the situation. The room is slowly going quiet and focusing on us. Good, time for the show.
“Of Course, of course!” I say, injecting my winsome nature back into my voice. “I came back to share a drink with my Brothers! I came to see what I've missed these long months. Did ye know that I lost some of me memories?” I glance around, ensuring I have my audience. That’s the thing about being Road Captain, when you start talkin’ the rank and file stop to listen. “I lost some o’ me memories, but I learned a whole lot while cooped up in the hospital. I learned about sickness and healing. I learned about when to fight and when to let go. I learned about the concept of triage and I learned about insurmountable odds,” I pause, grabbing a bottle of Fireball and setting it on the back counter.
“I also learned about cancer. I learned what a god awful thing that disease is. I saw families spend every last penny they had on a hopeless case as they watched their loved one rot from the inside. But do ye know how they treat cancer? Powerful medicine. Medicine so strong that it carries warnings to be used only as a last measure.” Kiki has set two low balls in front of me as I’m talking. I pick up the bottle and pour a generous shot into each glass, setting the right one in front of Axel’s increasingly confused face.
“So, Brother, I came home to take my medicine, to get better.” I pick up my glass and wait for Axel to take his. Once he has it raised I say, “Sláinte!” and I shoot the glass, Axel mirroring my motions after the briefest pause, making sure I drink first. Self-preservation and paranoia won’t save him now.
“Do ye know what that medicine does though Brothers?” I say, speaking to the room now. “It does what the body can’t, it works to purge the abnormal cells in the body. But to do that, it needs to purge the body’s own defenses. They put liquid fire into the sick body to burn out the sickness.” Axel is growing increasingly angry at my words, annoyed that I haven’t let him get a word in without him looking petty. As he tries to speak up, his face contorts, and he starts pulling at his throat. Kiki makes her way behind me toward the opening in the counter, watching with rapt attention.
“To kill a cancer, ye have to kill the body, kill the disorder. Ye have to burn out the disease and hope ye have the strength to recover.” Axel falls over backward on his stool, both hands ripping at his neck, fingernails dragging red wheals down his skin. His cronies start shouting and jumping out of their chairs, confused and angry.
“But when all else fails,” I’m shouting at this point to cut through the din, “ye resort to the knife. Ye cut out the cancer.” At the word ‘cut,’ Sawyer, Cotton, Tully, and Bowie spring into action from their place behind Mike, Ike, Switch, Ratchet respectively. The piano wire flashes in the fluorescent li
ghts and the shouts abruptly cease, leaving the room filled with stunned silence and the dull thud of boots against the floor.
I lean over the bar slightly to see Axel, face purple and weakly struggling. His neck is a bloody wreck and as he frantically tries to suck in a breath which will never come. Thinking we’re just about wrapped here, I start to move toward the end of the bar when I see Kiki make her way over to Axel’s struggling form.
“This is for forcing me to choke on that pencil dick of yours you piece of filth,” she says, venom dripping from her voice as she presses her bootheel into his throat. The force at which she stomps down sends a crunch resounding through the room and matches the thuds as the five nearly decapitated bodies fall to the floor. I look from Sawyer, to Cotton, to Tully, to Bowie; locking eyes with each of them and giving a nod in thanks. Each of them is drenched in blood from their elbows to their feet. Each body resting in front of them in a pool of crimson, a massive rent in their throats showing the deep red of their blood and the bright white of their spine.
“And so, is the cancer purged,” I say with a nod, feeling the relief starting to wash over me that the worst is over. Now for the dangerous part.
“I know ye all have questions, and we have answers,” I address the remaining men in the room who are frozen between shooting and running. “Bowie, go grab the sparrow.”
“You got it Gage.” The Nordic wonder goes tromping off toward the infirmary. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he felt more comfortable drenched in blood by the way he casually flicks some drips from his hand onto the floor.
“Keek, can ye go grab Tink from his lair?” I say, watching with fascination as she shakes the mess from her boot, scowling down at Axel. She looks up at me and that bright smile pops right back into place.
“Sure!” she says, as she half skips away toward Tinker’s hidey-hole.
Bowie drags the bruised and broken body of Subzero into the Clubhouse proper, tossing him into one of the chairs, his hands bound. “Talk” is all he says and Subby flinches as if punched.
