by Faulks, Kim
My belly twitched with laughter as Maddox shook his head and turned away.
“Like I said, locks on the door. You want more protection than that?” He whistled, and the shrill sound tore through the room. Demon slowly climbed to his feet from the thick mat on the floor and arched his spine. Muscles rippled under the sleek black coat. “Demon can sleep with you. No one’s gonna get past him without us knowing about it.”
I shook my head. “No, thank you.”
There was a second before he nodded, and then made for the hallway. “It’s not much, but the sheets are clean, and there’s a place to put your stuff, it you want. Most of the guys crash here when they’re on guard duty…or when the need arises…you get my meaning.”
He stepped through the doorway where Sarah stood only an hour or two before. So, she’d been the one tasked with making up the bed…no wonder she was pissed.
I followed him along the hallway to linger at the door to the room. A soft warm light illuminated the four walls. A near naked woman sitting astride a Harley Davidson hung above the bed.
There were other bare-chested women in various poses, but that I paid no mind. It was the bed I stared at…the queen sized bed with shimmering blue sheets and two thick blankets piled on top.
I lifted my gaze to Maddox standing there staring at me.
I couldn’t sleep on that.
I didn’t know how.
“Everything okay?” He glanced from me to the bed. “This going to be warm enough for you?”
I swallowed hard, and then nodded. “Yes…yes, thank you.”
“I’m to the left from the lounges if you need me…and the boys will be moving through the compound, so if you hear footsteps, that’s who it is.”
I gave a nod as he stepped close. Need radiated from him, sour and smothering. Don’t kiss me…don’t kiss me…
“Goodnight then.”
“Night,” I mumbled, nails digging into the torn nylon material as I gripped my pack against my chest.
Then he was gone, striding through the doorway, leaving behind the echo of his boots. Relief was a monsoon wave washing over me. I stepped into the doorway, gripped the handle and shoved. Locks clattered as I fumbled.
The thin thumb latch wouldn’t hold back a child, but the big, brass deadlock was all I saw. I turned the tiny knob, and eased the door closed.
Heat radiated through my chest. I slowed jagged breaths and took a step into the room. It’d been years since I slept on a real bed and not a fold away cot at the shelter. Years since I had four tiny walls closing me in.
The pack trembled with my grip…run…the need raged through my veins. Maddox depended on me…Cog, depended on me.
But it was more than that. I wanted to want to be here.
That desire welled inside my chest. Aching and splintering like a bone to stab through flesh. I wanted more than coldness. I wanted more than loneliness.
I wanted someone…someone to care for me…
Someone to love…and there was a tiny voice inside my head that whispered…maybe he’s the one?
Chapter Eight
Oleander
“You good to go?” Cog heaved the last bag of groceries into the back, and slapped a sticker into the tied handles.
I stared at the back of the van filled with bags just like this. Sweat beaded along my brow and slipped into my eyes. We’d packed fifty-seven bags…fifty-seven packets of cookies…fifty-seven different types of vegetables and meats and gift cards for books.
“Just give me a breather…” I growled and braced my hands on my knees.
There was a chuckle from the big man as he stepped to the side and slid the door closed. Memories hovered at the edge of my mind of another van…one old and rusted, just like this.
But the edge was where they stayed as I gulped the air and stretched my aching back.
“You’re about eight years younger than me, and thinner. Why the Hell are you gasping like an old man?” Cog snarled.
I raised my hand, and extend my middle finger. A chuckle filled the air from the hulking man. We’d worked together well, passing boxes and packets to each other.
I liked him. I liked his power, his strength. I liked his hardness, and that glint in his eyes, that warned me not to take things too far.
Maddox was wrong about me. He was so very wrong, and one look at the way I worked with Cog would tell him that.
I wasn’t submissive.
I wasn’t anywhere near that.
I was careful, always watching...don’t touch me…that was what made me lower my eyes…not in defeat…in readiness to fight.
“I like you, Oleander. You’ve got spunk, and a damn brain. Not like those other twits that hang around here with their mouths open, desperate for scraps.”
I stilled, and then raised my head as Cog swiped his forehead with the back of his brow. “If you’re talking about the half-naked women staring me down last night, I assumed that’s what you guys were into.”
“Not all of us.” He shook his head. “Certainly not Maddox. Okay, let’s get going, we got a hellva lot of deliveries to make.”
I made for the passenger’s side as he squeezed his massive frame behind the wheel. I bit the sides off my mouth, smothering a smirk.
“Not one word, or you’re walking,” he growled. “Not one motherfucking word.”
The old van started with a lurch before Cog drove the clutch to the floor and tried again.
A cough and a splutter, and we were moving, rolling out of the compound, and then turning left.
I was lost with the houses, lost with the unfamiliar feeling of being with someone else when he started talking. “You’re wondering why? Why deliver groceries to a bunch of old people when we’re supposed to be this gang?”
He hit the indicator and pulled over to the curb outside a tiny, white paint-chipped house. The engine died with a turn of the switch before he turned to look at me. “It’s okay, I thought the same thing myself when Maddox came to me asking if I’d hang out, join some meetings and see if I could wrestle my conscience.”
He couldn’t look at me then, suddenly all shy or awkward. “When I came out of jail I swore to myself no more. No more drugs, no more violence. But the Bears aren’t just a gang. We’re a community, and things like this…well it gives a little back.”
Don’t get caught up in this. Don’t get caught up in them. I wrestled with the thought as Cog shoved open the driver’s door and climbed out.
Heavy footsteps resounded before the side door was yanked. An unseen fist tightened around my gut as I shouldered open the door.
“Here you go. Clarice is old and frail. She won’t get up when we go in, so we put her food away for her, but I’ll show you where.” For next time…
He may as well have said the words. But inside my head I was already grabbing my pack and backing away from their need.
I opened my hands as he shoved two of the bags into each hand and shoved the door closed. “This way.”
We headed for a tiny gate, Cog’s long legs eating the distance as he stepped over the obstruction and strode along the cracked concrete path.
“Are you home Clarice?” he called, and then bent at the planter box running along the wall.
There was a murmur from inside, but Cog knew what he was doing and speared his fingers into the dirt and dragged out a key. Two seconds and we were inside. The musty stench of old furniture stole my breath. I coughed, and tried to breathe through my nose as Cog waltzed into the kitchen and heaved the bag onto the counter.
“Can you still hear the lamb, Clarice?” he called out, and left me behind.
There was a muffled snigger as I dragged the packed bags onto the counter next to his and worked my shoulders.
“Clarice, this here is Oleander. She’s helping me out today, hopefully longer, so you better behave yourself. No karate kicks to the head, or Ninja Stars to the balls.”
The old woman’s laughter carried through the room as I followed, st
epping into a lounge room from the sixties.
The old TV was a box type dinosaur, the green leather recliner just as old. There was a turn of a head as I neared and Clarice lifted wide blue eyes to pierce me where I stood.
“You watch out for this one,” Cog muttered as he bent low and kissed her on the cheek. “She’s as cunning as a damn fox.”
“Oh you.” Her hand shook as she swiped his arm.
I could see then, see why she never rose form the seat…see why she needed them more than ever.
She has Parkinson’s.
“Come closer.” She lifted a trembling hand to me. “Let me touch you.”
No…don’t touch me…never touch me. The words filled me, and overflowed.
I clenched my fingers into a grip as hers waited, and then took a slow step.
Cog left me then, left me to the soft, wrinkly pads of her fingers as they found the back of my hand.
“How old are you?” she murmured and rubbed the back of my fist with her thumb.
“Twenty-three.”
“I have a great granddaughter that age. She’s full of fire and spunk, just like you. I was like that myself at that age, now I’m old.”
And in that moment, it hit me…all the love I lost—all the love I never had a chance to have. “She’s lucky.” The words were harsh and raw. “She’s lucky to have someone.”
“Don’t you have anyone?”
Oh Jesus…my throat tightened. I swallowed the lump and shook my head. “I used to…used to have a Mom and a Dad. But not anymore.”
“They dead?”
I could only nod and murmur. “Something like that.”
Her fingers bounced, patting the back of my fist. “Well, you’re here now. And don’t let the size of that man fool you, he’s a damn kitten underneath.”
“Hey!” Cog called out. “I heard that. Don’t be tellin’ everyone about me. I got a damn reputation to uphold.”
She chuckled and shook her head. Kitchen cupboards opened and closed. Everything Maddox told me was true. They were a family…looking out for each other—being there when no one else was.
That dark power waited inside me as I unfurled my fingers and touched her hand. I didn’t need it. Didn’t want it—for once, I just wanted to be normal. I just wanted to be here.
I left Clarice and headed back into the kitchen as Cog closed the fridge and straightened. There was a satisfied look on his face as he lifted his gaze and murmured. “Ready for the next one?”
I wasn’t ready. Not for their sad stories, or to know they were abandoned in one way or another. But I followed him as he grabbed the empty bags and called to Clarice from the front door.
I followed him to every house on every street. And I saw them. I hugged them, the old and frail, the young and handicapped—the one’s who couldn’t get out of bed, and the ones’s who greeted us with smiling faces at the door—desperate to connect with someone and after a time that darkness inside brightened, just a little…more than it ever had before.
I saw Maddox’s grandmother, and felt the warmth of her embrace and when Cog stood there at the van’s open door I saw the shotgun nestled into the compartment on the side and I stilled.
The sight was a slap to the face, a wakeup call that this wasn’t the Red Cross…that these people—even under the smiles, and the food parcels—were dangerous.
Cog turned his head, caught my gaze and then glanced to the weapon. “Gotta be careful out here, Oleander. The Bears have their fair share of enemies.”
The diner came to me in a rush and the banger’s words filled my head. We’re not done bitch. Not by a long shot.
They had enemies alright. Extortion. Drugs. Violence. You named it and the Brothers ran it in this part of the city.
The sun didn’t shine as bright anymore, and the warmth of all the hugs I’d had today drained away to leave me cold.
Cog yanked the door closed ending the sight, and then made for the driver’s door. “You comin’ or you gonna stand there?”
There was no comfort in his words now, no smiles, or jokes as I made for the passenger’s door and yanked the handle.
And I was back there, where I’d been all along with one hand on my backpack as I looked for an opportunity to run.
We drove in silence with Cog staring out of the windshield as he wove through the city streets back to the compound, and as the bleak, grey compound came into view he slowed the van. “Look, I’m not going to make excuses for what we do, because there is none. It’s pure greed, no matter which way you cut it. But I’d rather be on this side of the street where we can do a little bit of good, than out there…homeless, afraid to take a piece of damn pie in a diner. Just…Maddox is a good guy—he’s other things as well—bad things, but there’s always two sides to a person, you understand?”
My pulse thundered in my ears as the rear of that van came to life all those years ago. Bad people trying to do good things…like surviving…like trying not to hate.
I yanked the sleeve of my shirt down over my wrist and answered. “Yeah, I do.”
He glanced toward me, eyes widening, surprised he actually got through. “Just, don’t make a rash decision. Give him a chance.”
The steel gate rattled as it swung open and Cog nosed the van through, two mysterious, black four-wheel drives closing in behind us. I turned my head as they pulled up hard, one car blaring with music, the other quiet as a grave.
“Maddox,” Cog muttered and shot me a glare. “Just stay in here. Don’t come out.”
And in an instant, he was gone, shoving open the car door and slamming it closed behind him.
How had I gotten here?
In this space where I was a thing to be protected, excluded, where the vulnerabilities in me were seen as a weakness…and not a strength.
Where my strength lay in the hands of men who carried shotguns, and fed old women store-bought supplies.
“Fuck that,” I muttered and gripped the door handle.
I was not their bird in a cage…I was not their captive.
Cog shook his head as I left the passenger’s door open and rounded the rear of the van. The others were already climbing out, hard stares aimed at the ground.
And at first, I didn’t understand, until the big guy from the Italian Restaurant dragged a baseball bat out of the backseat.
Blood splatter marred the wood.
I stared at the mess as he grabbed a towel and wiped, turning red into pink smears.
“Purple,” Maddox called to me.
There was a heaviness in his tone, thick and growling, but his eyes said it all as they widened. He shot the bouncer a look and then stepped in front of him, blocking the sight.
But I’d seen enough.
“I want to show you something.” Softer words now, designed to tear my gaze away. “Purple, look at me…I want to talk to you. I…I um…just, wait right here.”
The growl of an engine drew my gaze. I took a step, cutting across the lot as a white pickup pulled in.
Dawn smiled and waved from the passenger’s seat, but I didn’t wave back. I was trapped, good and bad, as Maddox leaned into the passenger’s seat and at the same time shoved his fingers into his pocket.
The white pickup’s engine died and doors opened as Maddox stepped clear.
“I wanted to do something for you,” he started to say as the clack…clack…clack…of heels echoed behind me. He shook his head, nervous now. “I ah…shit this is all wrong. I wanted this to be a little different, but I was hoping you’d come for a drive with me?”
Something glinted in his hand. The shine of gold and silver held me captive. Between the hard ridges of his fist was a perfect gold chain, and attached to the middle, hanging free was a key.
“You weren’t meant to see any of this. I wanted this moment to be special. Please, just give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking. One chance to do what’s right.”
His fingers trembled as he reached for the clasp and caught the tiny hook
with the end of a nail. I couldn’t move, couldn’t walk away as he held out the chain for me and stepped close.
“What’s the key for?” My words were thick and husky.
“That’s what I want to show you.”
His hands were warm, sliding along my collar bone to clasp the chain around my neck. It was the first time he’d touched me. The first time anyone had touched me like that.
“You’re safe with me,” he whispered and lowered his hands.
Fingers found mine, just a tug and I was moving, heading toward the passenger’s side of the black Explorer.
I sank into plush leather seats before he closed the door with a muffled thud. There was no time to think…no time to wonder what the hell was going on. Maddox yanked open the driver’s door and climbed in.
I tugged the seatbelt down as he started the engine and we backed out of the lot, still the questions crammed my head. “Who was the blood from?”
Maddox glanced my way and then turned back to the road. There wasn’t even the low drone of the radio to fill the space.
“You going to answer me, or just let me assume the worst?”
He snarled as a car pulled out in front, hit the indicators and gunned the engine, pulling alongside a sedan filled with screaming kids and a stony-faced Mom.
“Let’s just say you’re not going to have to worry about those punks from the diner.”
Fear hit me like a baseball bat to my belly. “You killed them?”
We flew past car after car, and there was a second before he spoke. “No. But I should’ve. We got what we wanted, and you don’t have to fear them anymore.”
It all made sense now. The compound…the I don’t want you sleeping out here. He was frightened for my safety.
I stared at my hands. They were just skin and bone, and marred heartlines and broken lifelines. My gaze slipped to his, white-knuckled wrapped around the steering wheel—holding on…like I held on. “Thank you.”
He winced and glanced my way. “What did you say?”
“I said, thank you.”
“Jesus…” he growled, hit the indicator and swung the wheel. “I don’t want you to thank me. I just want…”
