BENT AT THE ALTAR: Broken Lions MC

by St. Rose, Claire

  Sherri sees the key in my reaction. She clears her throat and says, “Fine. Then answer me this: where is Opal right now? Is she safe? Is she somewhere secure? Is her life not in danger anymore?”

  She’s hit the nail on the head as I flash back to why I was so upset leaving Noah in the first place. He can’t promise me Opal is safe. He can’t promise me I am safe. So why am I trying to explain away who he is. He’s the man who probably killed several people today in addition to the men he shot at during the battle back at the clubhouse. I needed to come to terms with this.

  Sherri stiffens as she lowers her voice to add the cherry on top: “Faye, do the right thing. I know you can do this.” Sherri hands me the phone as I hear the person on the other line finally answer. When I don’t immediately respond, the woman repeats “Hello? Hello?” to herself.

  The moments between Noah and I -- being held in the car, lying naked on the floor of his bedroom, our fights in the kitchen -- all come flooding back to me as I make my final decision. I swallow hard. What I am about to do is not going to be easy or right for anyone. But it has to be done.

  My voice shakes and quivers as I speak into the phone, “Hello. I am sorry to call so late, but my name is Faye Harvey, and I am a teacher over at Washington Elementary School. I need to report…”

  Chapter 22 NOAH

  The lights of the neighborhood are completely out. There’s not a soul to be seen or heard. It’s just like one of those Wild West ghost towns I’ve seen in movies. This time, though, the battle is real.

  I make the quick decision to park Faye’s car off of the main street and near the back of an ally’s home. That way, if anyone were to come looking for it later, it would be well concealed. As I get out, I grab on to the gun in my back pocket. Even though I am a few blocks from the action, I have no idea what to expect. I have to be prepared.

  I duck behind bushes, watching the shadows and the movements of the grass and trees before me. When I finally make it back to my block, I make a mad dash to where I left off at behind the garage of my neighbor’s home. Trigger is nowhere in sight, nor are the Bonebreakers that were attacking the basement door. I can spot it in the distance it looks just as I left it, untouched. I breathe in a sigh of relief knowing Opal is most likely okay.

  However, I’m not ready to move in just yet. Voices shouting start to become clearer the longer I duck behind the side of the shed. The cries are not from battle; they’re shouting something different. It’s angry and confused, but it isn’t directed at men shooting. In fact, I can’t hear a bullet at all.

  I sink under the chain link fence separating the backyards and head through the yard. I’m stepping on shell casing after shell casing, and the grass has a filmy red tint to it. Who knows whose blood that belongs to? But still, there is no one to be seen.

  As I turn the corner towards the front of the building, I see it: my worst nightmare coming true. A squad of police cars without lights and sirens are right outside our entranceways. There are three men sitting on the sidewalk in handcuffs. The young guns hang their heads low as they follow orders to keep their mouths shut.

  Griz is over at the side, calmly negotiating with the police like he always does -- with bribes and empty promises. Griz’s kept the pigs in line for years playing this game, and he knows exactly how to play this. But his cool, collected actions aren’t the reason I’m hearing shouting, and I know I need to go farther in to investigate.

  I walk towards the door to see Opal standing in the alcove. She’s being held back and restrained against the tall leg of a man in a black trench coat. His grip is tightly wrapped around her shoulders as she struggles and wiggles to break free. When she spots me, she lands a kick to the man’s shin, sending him reeling towards the ground in complete surprise.

  My daughter runs to me, and I drop my gun in the bushes. The cops dart after her, but she lands in my arms before they can hold her back. “Dad! Dad! What’s going on? Why are these guys here? I just want to go upstairs and go back to bed.”

  I pull her in close as it dawns on me. Griz could keep the cops away. He could even talk his way out of problems with the Feds or the Narco units. But messing with the social workers of Child Protective Services is an entirely different situation. He doesn’t have connections, and they are not easy to bribe. Plus, what’s in it for him? Having Opal out of danger would actually take a burden off his shoulder and free up a room for one of his loyal soldiers to stay.

  I catch his eye in the darkness as I drop to my knees and nuzzle Opal’s mop of tangled hair into my hands and face. The cops look at me, unsure of how to pry her from my side. The injured social worker looms in the background waiting for us to be finished so he can do his job. But I am not about to let go of her that easily.

  “Sir!” One of the brave cops come towards me, his hand hovering near his weapon holster, “Please let go of the child so Child Protective Services can take her into custody.”

  “Custody?” Opal reels around in my arms to face him. She reaches her arms up and tangles them around my neck. “Like jail? Am I going to jail? They can’t do that, Dad! They can’t! I’m a Disciple!”

  The social worker gets on his knees at his spot, coming eye level to her. He removes his wire frame glasses and black hat, as he soothingly says, “Not jail, Opal. We’re just going to take you to a friend’s house, someone you know. They’re going to take care of you while we talk to your dad.”

  “But when will I see him again?” She softens to his grandfatherly act, but I can still hear the fear in her tired, desperate voice. “Can he come with when he’s done?”

  I spin her back around to face me as I realize there is no battle here. I can’t go up against the police officers or the social workers without making this worth for me, Opal, or the gang. I have to let go and say goodbye. I pull her in for a long hug, kissing her on the forehead. I speak into her hair, the only way I can keep my tears from falling, “Be strong, Opal. I’m going to come get you as soon as I can. You hear me? I’m going to fight for you.”

  The social worker grows anxious as I linger too long and eventually pulls her back towards his waiting car. I touch the ground as she leaves my body, holding myself steady from the pain that is overtaking me. I can’t look up to watch her leave or to see her scream out for me one last time.

  Instead, I keep to myself until the scene is over and settled. I wait for Griz to walk the freed men back into the house and the rest of the gang to disperse to their places. I stay there, on the grass of the front lawn with my hand touching the ground and my body kneeling over where I last held her. And I tell myself that this isn’t permanent or over. Whatever I do, whatever I have to do, I will get my daughter back.

  Chapter 23 FAYE

  “She’s here!” Sherri shouts excitedly from the living room.

  I can just make out the sound of her opening the front door from the upstairs guestroom. I haven’t had enough time to get the room ready. It’s still in that ugly beige bedding set Sherri’s mother bought for us. And we still haven’t cleaned out the closet of the discarded holiday items and unworn pairs of shoes.

  But it will do for Opal. Later this morning I will take her to the store and buy new comforters and sheets and maybe even a little desk, as well. I’ll stock up on some treats and snacks -- whatever she wants. I don’t know how long she is going to be with us, but, no matter what, I want her to be comfortable and maybe even happy in her new home. Even if it is temporary.

  I find myself smiling, and I sit down on the bed that I just smoothed out the wrinkles from. I can’t be happy right now. That wouldn’t be right. What I did with Sherri is totally beyond me. I took a daughter away from her father. But I had good reason to, and no one could argue with me on that one.

  Well, except for Noah. I kept my phone close to me the entire night, waiting for his phone call to tell me how much he hated me or how he was coming for me. But the phone never rang and a text never came. Now it was nearly twelve hours after the Child Protectiv
e Services social workers came and got her from the clubhouse, and I was left wondering how he felt about it.

  Was I taking his family away? Or was I safeguarding it? I hope he saw it was the second option. Because as much as I care for Opal, I want him to be with her. They need each other. I could never, ever come between that bond.

  However, there was no time to think about Noah or how he felt about me. What mattered was that she was here, downstairs, waiting for me. Sherri continued to call my name before I ran downstairs to greet her. She tossed her bag in the foyer, totally missing the basket everyone else used for their things. And I had to bite my tongue as she walked into the living room with her muddy sneakers, but I kept my cool. Even neurotic Faye could keep it in when need be.

  When I made it to the last step, she turned towards me, her eyes downcast and tired. She asked me quietly, “What am I doing here, Miss Harvey?”

  I take a seat on the couch next to her, but she doesn’t follow me. Instead she stares at me coldly, as if she knows. I put on a reassuring, sympathetic smile as I explain, “Opal, these men and women with Child Protective Services want me to look out for you for a little bit while Noah, I mean your dad, works with them. You’re going to stay here with my roommate Sherri and me, and your dad will come see you here soon. We can even give him a call tonight to let him know you are all right.”

  A man dressed in all black with glasses interjects by clearing his throat, “Miss Harvey, we ask that you not contact the father until we give permission.”

  I nod my head solemnly. I can’t imagine being a father and not hearing from my daughter daily. I glance at Opal who is looking more dejected than ever. I give her a knowing wink and then reply, “Of course.” This rule will have to be broken.

  “We will be back to check on Opal in two or three days. Our offices will arrange a time for our visit.” The man hands me a card with his name embossed in jet black letters, “In the meantime, if you need anything or this one becomes, uh, overwhelming for you, feel free to call my offices. She is case number 484895.”

  I stand up and defiantly say, “She’s not a case number. She’s Opal Cruz.”

  His stiff face becomes awash in horror as he adjusts his tie nervously. He stutters as he says, “Of course.”

  Opal, Sherri, and I watch silently as he leaves. Neither of us knows what to do or where to begin. But Sherri, being Sherri, launches right in, “Hi there, Opal. Faye has told me all about you.”

  Opal looks over at me, unsure of who this bubbly, energetic person is. She’s the complete opposite of someone she would run into at the clubhouse. I give her a little nod of my head to show she won’t bite, and Opal returns Sherri with a small smile.

  Sherri is relentless, “I know! How about we watch a movie. Or is it too early for that? Pancakes? I can totally make some awesome chocolate chip pancakes. And you can help me out! That’s the best part!”

  I butt in, sensing Opal isn’t ready for all of Sherri’s Sherri-ness. “How about you make those pancakes while I take Opal upstairs to settle into her room. Okay?” I don’t give Sherri a chance to argue as Opal follows me quickly.

  I give Opal the tour, showing her our house and attempting to make it clear what is and isn’t off-limits. The whole idea of personal space seems a bit perplexing to her as she touches everything she comes to and even opens up Sherri’s underwear drawer. Once we reach her room, I can tell she is overwhelmed. “Miss Harvey,” she asks me nervously, “Can we just call my dad now? I know they said we couldn’t but I--”

  “Yes, of course, Opal. Let’s call your dad.”

  She instantly lights up as she runs to the bed and sits down. I grab my phone from my pocket and dial his number. It rings over a few times before I hear his voice pick up. Even from the speakers, I can tell he is tired and run down. Something is wrong.

  “Dad! It’s me! It’s Opal. I’m at Miss Harvey’s house. She has a room for me. It kinda sucks, but her house is really nice.”

  I roll my eyes at her as I hear her dad act surprised. “That’s good to hear, baby,” he says on the other end of the receiver. “I thought those jerks were going to bring you to your grandmother’s house.”

  “No. I wanted to go here.”

  I smile, knowing the truth is that I asked for her to come here. Her grandmother didn’t have the long-term space, and there were no other relatives willing to take on a Disciple’s kid. When the social services officer asked me my opinion, I threw my name in the hat. If I wanted to keep her safe, I had to own up to the responsibility.

  “I’m glad to hear you’re okay. Please stay out of trouble. Get your work done, keep your head down, and play by the rules. I’m sending Big Tusk and Trigger over later to monitor you. They’ll bring you something from me.”

  I sit down quickly next to Opal as I shout over the speakerphone, “Noah, you can’t do that. If they find out that you’re bringing your guys over here, it will only mean more problems for you. I’m sure of that.”

  “Faye, I’m not letting my daughter go unwatched when the Bonebreakers are out there looking for revenge. You don’t get that, do you?”

  “I get it pretty well, but that doesn’t mean you should risk not seeing Opal again over it.” I instantly regret it as I watch Opal look at me in horror.

  She pulls on my sleeve as she says, “I’m not going to see him again?”

  Noah jumps in, “No, Opal. She didn’t mean that. She just means we have to be really careful. We can’t pretend like we are seeing each other or that we are talking. Do you get me? This is a secret mission.” He lowers his voice as he adds, “But I’ll still send Tusk and Trigger, okay? You may not be able to see them, but they’re there.”

  Opal returns to her old self as she says, “Okay, Dad.”

  “Can you give Miss Harvey the phone real quick? I just need to talk to her for a few minutes, and then we can talk all you want.”

  Opal hands me the phone and I walk off into my room with a pain in my stomach weighing me down. I sigh as I say, “It’s me. What do you need?”

  “Faye, I need you to take care of her. Okay? I need you to make sure she is happy. Do you promise me that?”

  “Noah, I’m going to do my best.”

  “No. You’re part of our family now. You either promise me or I’ll come right now to get her.”

  I pause, mulling over the word ‘family’ before steeling my voice and agreeing. “All right, Noah,” I say, “I promise.”

  I call for Opal and she comes barreling out of her room into mine. She sits down on the floor with my cell in her hand as she talks to her father like they were never separated to begin with.

  Chapter 24 NOAH

  Every night I dream of her. Of both of them. It starts with a dream of Opal. Her and her smile as she rides on the back of my bike, her little arms just barely reaching around me. As we circle around the highway, I start to panic. I can’t feel her anymore. Her grip on me is gone. I look back, but all that’s there is the empty seat and the tail of my shirt flapping in the wind.

  And then, she appears. Like a switch of a channel, everything goes from sunny days and bright colored skies to black and white. Faye is sprawled out on my bed, her bare body for me to admire. I can see every little scar, every freckle, every line upon her face. She waits for me to join her, but I’m frozen in place. She calls out for me time and again, but I can’t answer her either.

  I wake up sweaty and confused. I glance over at my cellphone, but it’s the same story. I haven’t heard from Opal in over three days despite talking to her at least twice a day. The last time we talked, she was excited about Faye taking her to a history museum in the next town over. It was something I had never thought to take her to, but she sounded like she wanted nothing else.

  I send a quick text to the boys guarding their home and get one back, “All clear.” Every day has been “All clear.” I’ve got three men on duty in rotating shifts now as everything seems to be headed back to normal. Or, as much normality as it could
be. But still I check in when my gut is telling me that something isn’t right. Why would Faye not let Opal call?

  Sleep is useless. It’s only six o’clock, but I’m exhausted from our new nightly raids. My body is spent as I struggled just to roll out of bed and throw a shirt on. Downstairs, I can hear the afternoon guys shouting about their day’s work, the money they picked up, their cut of the action.

  Some of the girls are arriving, too, with their loud laughter and calls at the boys. Tuesdays tend to be one of those nights where everyone gathers for the meeting and the rides afterwards. Tonight’s is particularly special since we are commemorating our fallen. We buried three this week, each shot down by a Bonebreaker in their own clubhouse. After the Disciples meeting, we will send them off in style as only a biker gang would.

  I turn on my closet light and grab my colors. I dust off the badges, counting each of them in my head as I think of what I did to earn each one. Some of it I’m proud of, others I’m not so sure. It’s cost me so much, maybe too much. But it’s the only life I know.