Sketch: The Devil's Highwaymen Nomads #2

by Claire C. Riley

  Vin nodded and I almost rolled my eyes at how fucking stupid Agent Lear was to believe him. His wife and kids would be fine, they were civilians, innocent of this man’s dirty dealings. But there was no way Agent Lear was coming out of this situation anything less than dead.

  He swallowed, his anxious gaze moving over us all until it landed back on Vin. “You’ll look after my wife and kids, right?” he asked.

  I was about to say something when I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pocket. I plucked it out and saw Nancy’s name on the screen.

  “Now’s not a good time, babe,” I said as I answered it, and I had no fucking clue what she said back because it was indecipherable between the cussing and yelling. I pulled the cell away from my ear. “Now’s really not a good time,” I growled, louder that time.

  Jesus. Was that what I had to look forward to now? Because that was not what I wanted. Bitching and moaning and we were only a couple of hours into the relationship, or whatever it was. Fuck that.

  Vin glared at me, one eyebrow raised, as if to tell me to hurry the fuck up. I took a step back from the group to let them finish up. I didn’t need to see what would happen next; it was obvious how it was going to go down.

  “You wanted a name, you piece of shit?” Nancy yelled, sounding both distraught and furious. “You wanted a name? How about you—Sketch? That a good enough name for you? Because you hurt me worse than any of those other men ever did!”

  “Nancy?” I shook my head, moving further away from the group.

  I should have just hung up—fuck knows it wasn’t the right time—but something about her tone kept me talking to her. Kept me moving away from the group and listening to the bullshit she was spewing down at me.

  “How could you? I trusted you!”

  “Nancy? I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about, so you’re gonna have to spell it the fuck out for me.”

  “Of course you have no idea! Because that’s how easy all of this is to you. You’ve probably already moved on to your next bet. I wonder if you’d be willing to share her too?” she sobbed angrily.

  I froze at her words.

  Fuck. No, double fuck!

  “So, how about that name? Sketch—he was the man that broke my heart. Peter Anthony Lear—he was the man that stole my virginity. And Kenny Jennings, Paul Smith, and Frank Grahams were the men that he let rape me until I passed out from the pain. There are your names. And I’ll give you one more name, Sketch. One more and you leave me the hell alone forever. Tammy. That’s my ex-girlfriend that told me all about your little promise to share me with her. Now go fuck yourself.” Nancy hung up and I stared at it for a long second before closing it and putting it back in my cut.

  “Fuck,” I grumbled, knowing I’d fucked up big time. Wasn’t even sure I could win her back after that big of a fuckup. I mean, I had to, because there was no way I was giving her up, but thanks to that bitch Tammy, my job wasn’t going to be easy.

  Bitch had played dirty—real dirty—and I wasn’t sure if that shit could ever be clean again.

  I headed back to the group, to where Agent Lear was on the ground, curled up on his side. Vin was on the phone and Balls was standing over Lear, kicking him in the ribs. My footsteps came to a halt and I looked down at Agent Lear, my stomach suddenly turning. I walked over and pulled Balls off him, glaring down into his bloody face.

  “What’s your name, fuckwad?”

  He looked up at me, and spat out a mouthful of blood. “Lear,” he grunted.

  I crouched down and snarled. “What’s your first name?”

  His chest wheezed when he breathed, his breathing labored and sounding painful. Punctured lung and some broken ribs? Maybe. He’d live, though. At least for the next thirty seconds.

  “Peter,” he hissed out painfully, his eyes looking at me beseechingly.

  I saw red.

  Literal red.

  A haze of it drowned everything else out until all I could see was him.

  I pulled out my gun and pressed it into his forehead. He put up his hands and started to beg for his life, tears leaking down his bloodstained face.

  “Please! Please! I have kids—two little girls, a wife. Please! I told you everything I know! I was just trying to help my family. I was just trying to get us some extra money. I’m just like you, really! I’m just trying to stick it to the man and live a good life.”

  Hate burned the edges of my vision. “I’m nothin’ like you, motherfucker,” I growled out, “you remember a girl named Nancy?” And I felt my brothers at my back, listening to everything going down.

  Peter’s eyes went wide. “We were just kids,” he muttered. “We were just kids for gods sake!”

  “So you do remember her?” I gritted out bitterly. All I could see was Nancy’s tearstained face as she told me what he and his friends had done to her. The things they’d called her and how much they had hurt her. All I could think about was that Peter Lear—Agent fucking Lear—had watched them rape her, and he’d probably gotten off on it too. And now he was a cop with a wife and kids of his own.

  “I’ve been watching Nancy,” he said, his words coming out quiet, like he already knew his fate. “Kept a close eye on her after she left town—just to make sure she was doing okay. I felt awful for what happened, couldn’t get her out of my mind.”

  “You’ve been stalking his girl?” Balls said from next to me. “That’s fucked up.”

  The air thickened and I sucked in a sharp breath, struggling to breathe as he spoke. Because I saw the look on his face when he said her name. There was no shame in his eyes, no concern for the girl he’d broken, only lust. I was going to kill him. Then bring him back to life so I could kill him all over again.

  I thought I knew hate, but up until that moment I hadn’t felt anything even close to it.

  “Not stalking, no, just watching. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. I’ve not seen her in such a long time. Things went too far that night—I never meant for that. But you can’t blame me. She’s beautiful, and back then she was innocent and beautiful. And she never said no, so how did they really know?” He held out his hands, appealing for me to understand him.

  All I wanted to do was shoot him in the face with every new word he spoke.

  “I saw her last night when she left work. I told her I was sorry and she told me to leave her alone. I tried to get her to understand, but she’s stubborn.” His eyes went far away. “She always was, even back then.”

  I thought back to the night before, to the way she had reacted when she had passed the ATF car and how she’d looked like she’d been crying.

  “Are you all ATF agents?” I snarled.

  “What?”

  “The others that night—did you all end up as agents?” I said angrily. My muscles were twitching, ready to end this shit. To end him.

  “Not all of us. Frank moved away afterwards, but Kenny and Paul—they’re good men now, both hard working, with families of their own. They probably don’t even remember Nancy, or that night.” He said it like it was okay. Like the fact that they didn’t jack off every night on what they’d done to her would be okay, or make any of it any better.

  I glared down at him and we both knew he was lying too—they did remember her, they all did. The sound of a car pulling up sounded out behind me and I stood up.

  The doors opened and two men stepped out. I’d seen them before at the clubhouse when they’d raided us. They looked at Peter Lear on the ground, their eyes going wide as they realized, all too late, that there was no way he was walking away from this.

  “You Paul?” I asked, nodding toward one of the men.

  He shook his head.

  “Kenny then?” I asked, and he nodded slowly, his gaze moving to the man next to him warily. “And that’s Paul?”

  He nodded and I smiled and lifted my gun, blowing a hole in both of their skulls without even taking a breath.

  Motherfuckers got the easy way out.

  Their bodies fell
to the ground and I turned back to Peter, my gun aimed at his head. “Nancy sends her motherfucking regards, bitch!”

  “Please!” he screamed, sounding more like a prepubescent boy than a grown man.

  I shook my head at him and glanced at Vin. “We need a name,” he grunted out, clearly unhappy with having to bring it up. It must have been all over my face how much I wanted to blow this motherfucker away.

  I leaned down and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “Give me a name, now!”

  His eyes were wide, his skin slick with sweat. “No,” he said with a shake of his head. “You’ll kill me if I do.”

  “Motherfucker, I’m gonna kill you anyway!” I roared. “Now give me a name!”

  “No, no,” he sobbed, his chin trembling. I shook him like a rag doll and then dropped him to the ground.

  I turned and looked at Vin. “He needs to go to ground!” I growled out.

  “I’ll never give you a name,” Agent Lear said, his voice high-pitched like his balls were tucked up high in his waist. But he was right. He was never giving us a name. The dumb fucker thought that would keep him alive when instead all it did was sending him to his death.

  I glanced at Vin and he nodded. “Do it.”

  “Thank fuck for that,” I said and looked back at Peter.

  I aimed at Peter and fired, putting a bullet straight through his skull and silencing his pleading immediately. Blood trickled out of the small hole, surrounding his head like a halo of blood. It was ironic, because Agent Peter Lear was anything but angelic.

  ~ 17 ~

  I pulled up to Nancy’s trailer an hour later while my brothers disposed of the three bodies and dealt with the aftermath of my murderous temper. I had to see my woman before it was too later, and Vin understood that. Maybe it was because I’d taken care of a problem for him and the club.

  The door opened before I’d even made it to the steps, and a woman who I presumed was Nancy’s mom looked out at me. I stopped in my tracks and she looked me up and down with a hard eye. Yeah, definitely Nancy’s mom. Despite her haggard appearance, there was no mistaking that look of curiosity mixed with wariness.

  I climbed off my bike and hung my helmet, dragging my hair back from my face as I looked along the trailer, checking the windows for any sign of movement. Nancy didn’t seem the sort of woman to hide inside and let her mom try to protect her, but it also wouldn’t surprise me entirely either.

  Nancy’s mom put a hand on her hip and tilted her head to one side. “You better come in,” she said, before turning and going back inside.

  I sighed, because clearly Nancy wasn’t there, but there was no way of leaving without speaking to her mom either. I didn’t have time for that bullshit, but I had to play the game regardless—otherwise I had a feeling I’d be leaving there with nothing but an earful of motherly lectures.

  I stomped up the rickety steps, my heavy black boots echoing loudly. The steps creaked and I was almost certain my foot would end up going through one of them if I stood on them too long. Fucking place was falling apart. Inside was even worse. The door squeaked loudly as I pushed it open, almost falling off, and the smell of stale smoke and mildew hung in the air. Nancy’s mom was sitting down on a small brown corner seat, a lit cigarette dangling between her fingers.

  There was no mistaking the resemblance between the two women, but where Nancy was beautiful and vibrant, her mother looked tired and worn out. I’d been told that Nancy had come back to Miles City because her mom had fallen sick, but this was more than just being sick. Life had killed this woman’s soul.

  “Sit down,” she ordered, and surprisingly I found myself automatically doing it. “She’s already gone,” she said. “Thank God, too, because she was driving me nuts hanging around here all the time, nagging constantly,” she sighed. “She’s a good girl, but she’s as defiant as they come. And feisty,” she cackled. “Lord is she feisty! So yes, if you catch up to her, don’t be bringing her back here to me. She needs to get back to the city where she belongs.”

  I did a double take. I’d been expecting her to hate me for driving her daughter away, and beg me to bring her back to take care of her.

  “Don’t look so shocked. I never asked her to come back here to take care of me. That was her choice. I know what happened to her—I didn’t at the time, of course, but it’s a small town and I heard the rumors. Leaving here was the best thing she ever did. And coming back was the worst thing.” Her cigarette was almost burnt out and she pulled another one from her pack and lit it from the other before stubbing the old one out into an overflowing ashtray.

  “Does she know you know?” I asked.

  “Does she know you know?” she returned.

  I nodded. “Yeah, she told me last night.”

  It was her turn to nod then, and a stray lock of graying hair fell across her forehead. She pushed it away and pursed her lips. “No, I never saw the point in telling her I knew. I thought the best thing for her was to put that night and this town behind her. I was never a very good mother, but I loved her and I always wanted the best for her. Leaving here was the best thing for her.”

  I grunted in agreement. I didn’t know the Nancy from before that night, but I knew how I felt about the Nancy from after it.

  “I’ll be honest with you, son,” she said. “Never liked that Tammy girl though. Always looked down her nose at me, like she thought she was better than me.” She shook her head, her gaze going around us. “Maybe she is.”

  “Can’t say I liked her either,” I said, cracking a grin. “And this shit,” I said, gesturing around us with a hand, “it don’t make you the person you are. So fuck Tammy.”

  She laughed. “Maybe not you though.”

  I chuckled too. “Yeah, maybe not me.”

  “She always liked both girls and boys growing up. Mostly had girlfriends until she met that son-of-a-bitch. Never thought she’d end up with a man.” She watched me warily and sighed. “Can’t say I like you much either if I’m honest; you seem like trouble to me. And you need a haircut.”

  I nodded. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard that,” I replied without care.

  “I bet it’s not.” She laughed again and blew out a plume of smoke. “But I think you’re a good man—deep down, at least. Maybe you don’t know it, but she does. And I trust her judgment.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. It was a backhanded compliment at the very least. And at the most? It meant that Nancy actually gave a shit about me. Enough to talk to her mom about me. I needed to get the fuck out of there and find her.

  I stood up and her gaze shot to mine. “He used to come by here sometimes, you know.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at her, my confusion giving way to anger that flared to life in my chest as I realized who she was talking about.

  “He used to ask about her—what she was up to and how she was.” She shook her head. “We never talked about what he did to her, but I think he knew that I knew. And it was obvious I couldn’t do anything about it.” Her eyes took on another hard edge and her lined face looked more like a hundred than sixty. She looked down at her hands. “I wish I could have done something more for her, but I couldn’t. She was my little girl and I was helpless. All I could do was give her everything I had in my savings and then let her go. His family would have buried us. But I know I was wrong to not fight for her. I know that now.”

  I frowned, realizing what she was telling me. I looked around the trailer, seeing how she was living, and realizing why.

  “Jesus,” I muttered.

  “You do what you can for your kids. You’ll understand one day, I’m sure. Pity he never got what he deserved though.”

  I hesitated, taking the unusual step of involving a civilian in club business. Deep down I knew I had to, though. I’d pegged this woman all wrong, and she needed to know that Nancy was safe now.

  “He’s dead,” I said. Vin would probably kill me for speaking about it, but I couldn’t imagine how it must have felt
for her to know all that time what had happened to her daughter and not be able to do anything about it. She deserved to know, and I had no doubts that she wouldn’t tell a fucking soul. “All of them are dead, as of this morning.”

  I wondered if she’d freak out. Or cry. Maybe get angry. But instead a small smile lifted her face.

  “That’s good, at least.” She stood up and headed to the fridge. She opened the door and pulled out some yogurt and started to eat it. Not sure what I expected her to say or do, but the blasé response surprised me.

  “Where is she?” I asked, more than done with this shit now. I’d given her more information than necessary and it was time to move on and do what I’d gone there to do.

  “Heading back home, away from this hellhole. I told her not to come back here next time, no matter what.” She spooned more yogurt into her mouth, dropping her cigarette butt in the sink. It sizzled and a stream of smoke floated up before vanishing. “Not even for my funeral.”

  I looked at her then, noting not just the deep lines in her face or the way her hands shook, but also how thin and fragile she looked. She gave me a sad smile. “It’s okay, we made our peace. Just look after her for me, please. She deserves someone that will stand up for her. She shouldn’t have to do it all herself. She’s strong, but sometimes we don’t need to be strong. Sometimes we need to be vulnerable too.”

  I nodded in understanding and started toward the door, relief flooding me when I opened it and fresh air filtered in. Place stunk to high hell, and not just with mildew but with sickness, sadness, and secrets that were buried deep in the cavity of that god-awful trailer. But what could she really do? She was sick, poor, and had no one to help her.

  “I told her she should go see you, but you know how stubborn she can be,” she said as I took a step down. “Don’t take no for an answer, okay?”

  I turned and looked back in at her with a cocky smile. “I never do.”