by A. J. Downey
I wanted to ask why but the paramedic was still here and Dragon barked, “Duracell!” The man smirked and walked a ways away, the coal on the end of his cigarette glowing in counterpoint to the embers that my house was becoming.
“Told you it wasn’t me,” Reaver muttered and Dragon shot him a withering look. Reaver held up his hands in surrender, a mischievous sparkle in his blue eyes but it was Trigger who started talking.
“Let Reave’s ol’ lady drive you back to the club, honey. You been through a shock. You just ain’t fit to do it.”
I nodded and just kind of gave up, a wave of exhaustion and emotion just sort of swamping me.
Rush and Archer returned with the news that the horses were spooked, but by all appearances, doing just fine. The firefighters had the blaze under control and the house and smaller barn attached seemed to be the only losses so far. The police took a statement from me and then Rush while I sat there and shivered in nothing but Rush’s tee and the stupid emergency blanket. All my clothes, all my belongings continued to burn throughout the rest of the night.
Finally, as dawn began to light the eastern horizon, we were told we were free to go. I stood up from where I had been relocated to the back of Hayden’s SUV. She was incredibly kind and vivacious, taking the evening’s events in stride like they happened every day, which worried me to tell you the truth. Rush had retrieved his bike from the garage, and leaned on it nearby. His warm, cognac eyes roaming over me, fixed on me, all while his older brother, Archer, and his twin, Nox, talked to him in low even tones.
The set of his broad shoulders told me just how furious he was about the whole thing. I, on the other hand, was too emotionally drained to really feel anything one way or the other about anything except for my desire for a hot shower, a real bed, and some real clothes. Hayden sat down on the tailgate of her Lexus with me and said, “My dad boards his horses here sometimes.”
I blinked and turned towards her, “Who’s your dad?” She gave me a one-thousand watt smile and said “Jacob Michaels.”
Well, now that was a name I recognized. I blinked stupidly and just barely managed to keep my mouth shut on the burning question, how the hell did Jacob Michael’s daughter end up marrying a biker!?
Hayden laughed and winked at me leaning in to say in a conspiratorial whisper, “I can see it all over your face, and it’s a long story, I promise to tell you when the boys put us all in lockdown to go take care of business.”
I frowned and she smiled and it wasn’t entirely happy. I didn’t quite know what it was, but it was something I was likely going to find out and soon. Rush came over and the guys started moving around like we were making ready to leave.
“I can’t leave the horses,” I blurted and Rush came over to me.
“You aren’t, baby; look.” He pointed at the driveway and the line of three pickups coming down it. I frowned and then realized, “Oh, god. No one called the men to tell them not to come to work today.”
“It’s okay, I’ll handle it.” He kissed my forehead and said to Hayden, “Take her home for me, make sure she gets a hot shower and tucked into my room safe.”
“No problem, Rush.” Hayden said, and Rush led me to the passenger side of Hayden’s SUV.
“I love you, baby. Go try to get some rest, I’ll be right behind you.”
I nodded and kissed him back, his lips warm and comforting against mine. I didn’t want to let him go, but I supposed that was the price you paid for growing into your own and shouldering the mantle of ‘adult.’
The car ride was silent for the most part until Hayden broke it with, “They can be heavy handed sometimes, you know? Not telling us everything. It can be infuriating, but it’s for our own good… god, as much as I hate having to say that.”
I turned from the window and looked at her, frowning. “I don’t understand.”
“No, I suppose I need to explain a little better, don’t I?”
“It’d be nice.”
“Okay, I’ve been around the club for a few years now. In all that time, I’ve never seen any of the guys get violent for the sake of being violent. I’ve never seen one of the boys do something to start shit, but I’ve seen them finish plenty.”
I blinked, “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because word is, your mom’s filled your head since practically birth that these guys are all violent rabble rousers who go out and cause a bunch of mayhem at every opportunity.” I blinked again, long and slow and tipped my head thinking about it.
“Yeah, okay, I can’t say you’re wrong there, but that’s kind of how things were, I mean, before…”
“Before your aunt died?”
“Yeah.”
She sucked in a deep breath and let out a gusty sigh, “I know, and that must be a really hard one for you to wrap your mind around, but I’m telling you, I’ve never not once seen these guys do anything to anyone that didn’t do something to them first.”
“Okay, again, why are you telling me this?”
“Because I can see this is tearing you up something awful and that you really like Rush.”
“I do,” I said softly.
“Okay, I’m going to give you the super short version on what happens next.”
“Okay.”
“The guys are pretty much going to call all the ol’ ladies and their families into the club. Unfortunately, as the women and children, we get to do a lot of hurry up and wait while the boys go out and take care of business.”
“And just what is that supposed to mean?” I asked. “What does taking care of business look like?”
“Aggravating as hell, but we don’t get to know what that looks like. It’s for our own safety.”
I shifted uneasily and Hayden sighed, “I’m not doing a very good job of explaining this, am I?”
“Not really, no.”
“Look, you’re tired, you’ve been through a lot; can we table this talk until after you’ve had some food, a shower, and some rest?”
“Sure,” I said. I didn’t want to sound bitchy here, but I honestly wasn’t in the mood for this conversation. I didn’t want to meet new people, I didn’t want to be fawned over; I just wanted to be left alone.
We pulled up into the club’s parking lot and Hayden went to park, I asked her, “Can we just go around back, closer to Rush’s room?”
“Sure, not feelin’ dealing with other people right now?”
“I hope that doesn’t make me a complete bitch.”
“Not at all, honey.” She laughed a little and pulled around onto the asphalt track, taking the long way around so that the passenger side of the car would be closer to the door.
“Thanks,” I said softly.
“No problem, I’ll go find Disney. He’s the keeper of the keys around here. He’ll have the spare to get into Rush’s room. In the meantime, take a hot shower. I’ll scare up some towels while you’re in there.”
“Sounds good,” I said, adding, “thanks.”
“No problem.”
I unfastened my seatbelt and slid from the car into the cooler morning air. It was still pretty warm and promising to get hotter as the day went on, so I was grateful to slip into the cinderblock building and out of the punishing rays of the sun.
I went into the bathroom at this end of the hall and stopped in front of the mirror. There wasn’t anything amiss about my appearance, really. Hair tousled, skin a bit too pale from my ordeal, my summer tan almost floating on top and looking wrong, somehow. I had a bit of a scab just at the edge of my hairline to the left side of my forehead from where the flying safety glass had nicked me. I closed my eyes on the sudden well of fear that opened up and swallowed me whole. Watching that windshield spider web, that hole opening up, the passenger side window disintegrating… God, a few inches to whoever fired that shot’s right and I wouldn’t be here right now.
I leaned heavily on the white porcelain sink basin and finished taking stock of my reflection. White tee hanging on me several sizes to
o big, spotted with my blood, streaked with black soot. I shuddered, and turned away, not wanting to see anymore. I pulled the offending covering off my body and dropped it into the waste basket, stepping into the nearest shower and turning it on. I waited for it to heat up to a tolerable level and took a deep breath, thrusting my face into the spray.
It felt good, even though the tiny cuts to my scalp and even some to my feet stung like a mother. It felt even better to be washing the nightmare of the past several hours away, though the thought, if only it were really that easy, did come to mind.
The door opened and I looked back over my shoulder and yelped. A tall, skinny, and heavily tattooed biker with long brown hair held up one hand, a set of keys dangling from them and cried, “I’m the gay one! It’s cool, it’s cool. I just came to bring you towels and the key to Rush’s place. You remember which room it is?”
“Yeah, yeah! I do, just get out!” I tried to cover myself with no success and he at least kept his eyes averted.
“Right, sorry, I thought you knew!” he said lamely and bolted. He ducked out the door and I stood there, chest heaving and started to laugh. Once I started I couldn’t stop, until finally the laughter was drowned by my tears. I ended up on my knees under the punishing hot spray and cried until I didn’t have anything left in me to cry out. It was a super shitty way to end my night, I finally decided. Alone, afraid, in tears, on a strange bathroom floor with no home left, no clothes, no car – my keys including the spare having gone up with the house, and just the unanswered question of why didn’t I just sign the fucking paperwork, making slow, lazy circles in my head.
I used the large pump action bottles of body wash, shampoo, and conditioner sitting in the metal bracket bolted to the wall between this shower and the next and cleaned up to the point that if I kept scrubbing, I was going to take skin. Finally, I realized the kind of dirt and grit I was after to wash away wasn’t a physical thing, at least not anymore. So, I gave up and shut off the water. I went out to the bench where the tattooed biker had left everything and found a regular sized bath towel on top of a larger bath sheet towel with a key ring sitting neatly in the middle of it all. I set the key aside and wrapped my hair in the first towel and dried off with the second. Finally, I wrapped the larger bath sheet around me from armpit to knees and sighed. I plucked the keyring off the floor from where it had fallen and went in search of Rush’s room.
It was the second door I tried, and I stepped into it, grateful that it locked but missing Rush keenly. I swallowed hard, and went to the dresser that was carved to match the beautiful bed. I opened up drawers until I found what I was looking for. I don’t think Rush had ever worn the boxer shorts, but that was okay. I kind of liked the easier access without. I pulled them on, then pulled one of his classic white tee shirts on over my head, knocking the towel loose.
I pulled it out of the neckline and off my hair and used it to rub my hair as dry as I could get it, staring at myself in the mirror above the dresser and wishing he were here. Afraid for what he might be doing. I knew they were operating outside the confines of the law now. I understood why, but I had so much to be afraid for… that he would get hurt, that he would go to prison for whatever he did, or the very worst thing of all… that I would never, ever, see him again because he was killed.
I sat heavily on the edge of the bed, and stared sightlessly at my reflection, turning all of this over in my mind. God, the implications were awful, and my state of mind was such that it couldn’t and wouldn’t go anywhere good no matter how hard I tried to make it.
A light rapping fell at the door rousing me a bit. I stood up and went to it, unlocking it and opening it a crack to a small woman with long black hair and deep blue eyes peered up at me through a fringe of bangs.
“Bailey?”
“Uh, yeah…”
“I’m Dani, Red-Thirteen’s ol’ lady.”
“Oh, hi…” I didn’t want to be rude but I didn’t want to just let her in to Rush’s room, either.
She smiled and helped me out by saying, “I don’t want to come in; I just thought you might be interested in some of my party favors.” She held out her hand with a tiny little pill on it and I recognized it immediately. It was hard to grow up rich and not know what Xanax was.
“I really want that,” I said and hung my head.
“Hey, no shame in that. I know how it goes, believe me.” I held out my hand and she dumped the tiny pill into it and brought her other hand into view, a glass of water in it.
“Try and get some sleep, I was supposed to get your sizes so we could get some clothes for you, but if you want to wait, that’s cool too.”
“Oh, um… I wear a size eight jeans and a large shirt.”
“Great, we’ll see about rounding something up for you so we can take you shopping.”
I groaned, “Oh, god, my purse, my wallet, everything went up with the house!”
“It’s okay, we’ll figure it out. Just take that and try not to worry about it for now.”
I took the damn pill and downed the water handing it back. “Thanks Dani,” I murmured and she smiled.
“No problem, we’ll see you later.”
I closed the door, mind racing while I waited for the little pill to kick in and even me out. I didn’t even know what had happened to my cellphone. The last time I remember having it, I was panicking and talking too quickly to the emergency operator, telling her we were trapped in my burning house.
I pressed the heels of my hands into my eye sockets and took a bunch of deep breaths trying to keep from bursting into another fit of useless crying. I was anxiety riddled, pacing Rush’s room like a caged thing and for a half second I almost panicked, wondering what would happen if I got stuck like this and the pill didn’t work.
I tried to make myself useful, but Rush was so damn neat I didn’t have anything to do. I picked up my towels and hung them on the hooks set into the back of the door, having no place else to put them that wouldn’t ruin furniture or cause the carpet to go musty.
After that, I turned to Rush’s beautiful but too-large bed. I pulled back the blankets and got in, pulling the pillow Rush used most against my chest, hugging it tightly, breathing in his smell. I don’t remember anything after that. Like nothing. Maybe the pill hadn’t been Xanax after all, maybe it had been something more potent. In any case, whatever it was? I think I liked it.
Chapter 27
Rush
Ringing from the cab of the truck. Shit, Bailey’s phone. She hadn’t been gone ten minutes, my brothers and I still standing around surveying the damage in the new light of day. Bailey and I had been asleep in that house which was now burned half way down to the foundation. I shook my head and went down the small embankment, ripping open the bullet riddled truck’s driver’s side door. I scooped up the phone and swore.
“What is it?” Dragon called.
“Bailey’s mom,” I called back and swiped a finger across the screen. “Hello?” I answered. Silence on the other end of the line for a span of one seized up heartbeat.
“Where is my daughter?” Bailey’s mother demanded.
“Safe, on her way to the club,” I answered. “This is Rush.”
“It’s all over the news,” she said and I looked up.
“Well, that does explain the helicopter,” I said.
“What happened?”
“I’d better give you to Dragon.”
“I’m asking you,” she said. “You were there, with my girl, what happened?”
“Alright, damn!” I told her in as few words as briefly as possible.
“But she’s alright?” She asked incredulously.
“Shook up, a few cuts from flying glass, but yeah. She’s gonna be fine.”
“My poor Bailey,” she whimpered. A mother’s love, I guess. I wouldn’t know myself, but I’d heard about it often enough to believe it existed.
“It’s going to be okay, ma’am. I’m going to take care of it.”
“You do t
hat, and don’t you worry about a thing. I have the best legal defense team.”
I snorted, I didn’t plan on getting arrested, but if it happened? I didn’t think for one minute Bailey’s mom would follow through. With the way her son turned out, I fully expected her to leave my ass to rot ensuring her daughter was safe not only from the big bad developer, but the big bad biker, too. It was how these rich bastards were. They operated above the law, while us? We just operated outside it.
I just handed the phone to Dragon at that point and went over to my bike which Archer and I had pushed out here. I was lucky I kept my keys in my cut and I’d grabbed it, otherwise I’d be sitting here fucked without a way out of here other than sittin’ bitch ‘til I could grab my spare.
“Where the fuck you think you’re going, brother?” Archer demanded.
I dug through my saddle bags and cursed. No spare boots. Fucking damn it. I must have taken ‘em in the house.
“What size, dude?” Duracell called and I looked back over my shoulder at him.
“Twelves.”
“Woo hoo! I can hook you up,” Reaver said and flipped open one of his bags. He came up with a pair of paint stained work boots.
“Nice,” I muttered and pulled them on without socks.
“They’re elevens and a half’s but they might work.”
“A bit snug, but fuck it, I ain’t got better.”
“Here, put this on under your cut. You look like a –“
“Cell!” Dray barked and Cell corrected at the last second from what he’d been about to say to “Tool.”
He tossed me a spare black wife-beater. I shook my head, knowing full well what he’d been about to say. We were all trying to get him to fuckin’ fix it on a kind of Disney and Aaron. The last thing we wanted was Disney to get in a beef with Duracell over something he’d picked up and used so often in prison that he kept on with it on the outside. He didn’t think about it, he just said it. Bad habits being a pain in the ass to break and all of that.
My twin held my cut while I pulled the shirt on over my head. Dragon was still on Bailey’s cell, talking to her mom, nodding every so often and saying things like ‘right’ and ‘I hear yah.’
