FURIOUS: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK SEVEN)

by Honey Palomino

  “Just in case what?”

  “In case you need me.”

  “What would I need you for?”

  “I don’t know….to carry your books? Your lunch?” He shrugged. “Anything at all.”

  “You’re a good friend, Benji.”

  “I know,” he said, smiling arrogantly. “But you deserve it.”

  “Everyone deserves a friend like you,” I said, walking into our classroom and sitting down. Our teacher, Mr. Bridges, looked up and glanced my way, but he looked away just as quickly.

  I was grateful for that.

  Everyone was learning it was easier to pretend…

  CHAPTER 4

  GRACE

  The snowy peaks of Mt. Hood loomed in the distance as I crossed the Green county line heading into Greenville.

  “Egotistical, much?” I murmured to myself as I slowed down my car. I’d done a little research on the town before I’d left home and I’d learned that Greenville was incorporated in the late eighteen-hundreds by Bodhi Green’s grandfather, William Edward Green.

  Apparently, he’d been quite the philanthropist, after making a fortune in California gold. Looking for a place to call home, he bought up hundreds and hundreds of acres at the foothills of Mt. Hood and started his own town. He’d given money to friends and family so they could start their own businesses, investing all of his own money back into the community to help get it started.

  His son, Bodhi, Sr., had continued to foster the family’s generosity, which only ensured generations of loyalty from the townsfolk for decades to the Green family. By the time Bodhi, Jr. was born, the Green family was filthy rich and Bodhi grew up in luxury, raised by nannies and maids, while his parents spent their time forming committees and appointing themselves to the boards of directors of whatever organization’s interests struck their fancy.

  Bodhi Green enjoyed the fruits of his ancestor’s labor and after a brief career as the star of Oregon State’s football team, he returned to Greenville to continue his family’s legacy.

  He took over for his father when he became too old to run his company, and he’d been the CEO of Green Enterprises ever since. He’d been born into money and by the looks of his name on everything in site as I drove through the tiny town, he enjoyed the fame, too.

  I found the school easily, on the south side of town, just a few blocks from the downtown square. The school was quiet and peaceful, with the occasional shout from a child breaking through the silence as I found my way to the Principal’s office. I’d opted to come here first, my distrust for police still on high alert.

  I was hoping that Molly Green just needed an outside adult to do some advocating for her and once the principal heard from me, we’d be able to get this little girl some help.

  I waited in the tiny waiting area in the front office after announcing myself to Ms. Canterbury’s assistant. She greeted me with a warm smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Reserved and aloof, she wore a tailored, floral violet suit, with matching violet pumps and bright purple glasses.

  “How can I help you today, Grace?”

  “Thank you for seeing me. I’m writing a book about small towns in Oregon,” I began, giving her my cover story right away. “During my research on Greensville, I came across a disturbing rumor about Molly Green, one of your students.”

  “Molly Green? Is that so?”

  “Yes. It appears she might be the victim of abuse and I wanted to talk to you about it.”

  Her smile faded immediately and she leaned across her desk.

  “Abuse? By whom, pray tell?”

  “Her father.”

  “Bodhi Green?” she asked, lifting a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “That’s impossible.”

  “Why is it impossible?”

  “Bodhi Green is an honorable man. He’d never hurt his daughter.”

  “I understand his family founded this town?”

  “That’s correct. The Green family has done wonders for this community.”

  “What about Molly’s mother?”

  Her eyes clouded over and she shook her head.

  “She’s a lovely woman. We don’t see her much.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Perhaps she’s being abused, as well?”

  “That’s absurd.”

  “Is it?” I asked. “I heard Molly has a broken arm.”

  “What?” she asked. “If that’s so, I’m not aware. I believe she’s in class today.”

  “It happened last night.”

  “You sure know a lot about this family, Grace. Are you a friend of the family? A relative?”

  “No. Just a concerned party. Like I said, I’m writing a book.”

  “Who gave you this erroneous information?” she demanded.

  “I can’t reveal my sources,” I said, flashing her an apologetic smile.

  “Well, you can rest assured, if Molly has a broken arm, I’m sure that there’s a perfectly good explanation for it.”

  “I was told Mr. Green was responsible for it.”

  “Again, that’s absurd. I can assure you,” she said, standing up. “Now, is that all?”

  “You’re not going to do anything about it?”

  “What would you have me do?”

  “You’re a mandatory reporter. You’re required by law to report suspected child abuse.”

  “I don’t suspect any such thing.”

  “I’ve just informed you. You can’t just ignore this.”

  “I’ll talk to Molly, okay? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes,” she said, curtly, looking down at a fuchsia watch on her wrist.

  I shook my head, realizing she wasn’t going to be of any help at all.

  I stood and turned towards the door and then paused, turning back.

  “Perhaps I should talk to Mrs. Green, Molly’s mother?”

  Her eyes hardened and a steely, fake smile spread across her face.

  “Good luck with that.”

  I nodded and walked out, shaking my head in disbelief. I stopped outside of the door of the school’s office, gazing down the glistening hallway, a dozen doors on either side, the sound of chattering voices pouring out of the classrooms.

  Molly was in there somewhere.

  I hadn’t even laid eyes on her yet, but I knew that whatever she was going through, she deserved a little help.

  CHAPTER 5

  BENJI

  My palms had been sweating all day.

  The lady on the phone was very nice. She said her name was Grace and that she’d figure out how to help Molly. I tried to explain that it might not be easy, because of the fact that Molly’s dad ran the town, but she didn’t sound worried.

  Molly and I were sitting next to each other in class after lunch and my eyes kept looking out the window, even though I’d been caught twice by the teacher. I don’t know what I expected, but when I saw the pretty lady get out of her car, I knew it was her.

  I’d never seen her before, but her looks matched her voice somehow. She looked kind. She had long blonde hair, pulled back into a ponytail and she wore black slacks and a white parka, with a black scarf that I think had tiny black owls on it, but it was hard to see from this far away.

  After about half an hour of my stomach churning from anxiety, I saw her walk back out to her car. She looked around a little and walked back towards the town square, disappearing again.

  I kinda felt guilty, because I hadn’t yet told Molly I’d called anyone. Afraid she might be mad, I couldn’t muster up the strength just yet. But now that the woman had shown up, I knew I had to say something. Ms. Canterbury was probably going to be calling for Molly soon and it wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t warn her first.

  “Molly,” I whispered, looking over at her. She was doodling on her notepad, distracted, a million miles away. “Molly,” I whispered again.

  “What, Benji?” She finally looked over.

  “I need to tell you something,”
I said, sheepishly.

  “What?” Her bright green eyes were so sad today and it made me sad for her. She was such a nice person, so kind to everyone she met, it wasn’t fair that she was being mistreated. Especially by the one person that was supposed to protect her.

  In the last year alone, she’d shown up with bruises and welts on her arms and wrists five times and this wasn’t the first broken bone she’d had. Sure, Dr. Nelson told her the last time was a ‘hairline fracture of the wrist’, but it still counted. Each time, she’d told me she’d fallen or something. Once she’d confessed she’d simply made her father mad and he’d taken his anger out on her. She then quickly told me she didn’t mean it.

  Each time, her injuries were worse.

  This time, he’d broken her arm clean in two.

  I mean, for now, she was sticking with the icy stairs story but I knew the truth would come out soon, when the memories weren’t so fresh. She’d confess it all to me when we were alone in her room in a few weeks maybe, once the shame she seemed to experience each time had passed a little.

  Calling Grace wasn’t the first time I’d tried to get her help, either.

  First, I’d told my Mom. Then my Dad. When neither of them would get involved, I went to Ms. Canterbury myself. She just shook her head and told me to leave her office. I’d even mentioned it to Sheriff Ross once, before I’d seen him hurt Josie at the restaurant that day, but he’d brushed it off, too. He’d even laughed at me!

  Talking to Molly’s mom was useless, because she rarely left her bedroom. I was pretty sure Molly’s nanny, Maria, knew already. How could she not? But she didn’t do anything about it either.

  Nobody was willing to do anything. For some reason, they were all afraid of Mr. Green.

  So, I was glad I’d called Grace, even if Molly got mad.

  “I called someone,” I whispered to her now.

  “Who?” she asked, confusion filling her eyes.

  “Someone to help you.”

  “Help me do what?”

  I paused. What exactly was going to happen? I had no idea. I didn’t want Molly taken away, I just wanted her not to be hurt anymore. Suddenly, panic flowed through me. Maybe I’d done the wrong thing? But I looked into Molly’s eyes again, then down to the bright white cast on her arm that she’d let me draw on during lunch, and I knew I’d done the right thing.

  “Help you get safe,” I said, nodding firmly. “So you don’t get hurt anymore. Your nightmare just might be over soon.”

  She looked at me with a sad smile and shook her head slowly.

  “Oh, Benji, it’ll never be over. He’s my father…”

  CHAPTER 6

  GRACE

  “I think I might spend the night,” I said to Ryder on the phone as I walked the short distance from the school to the Greensville town square.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “The principal didn’t want to hear about Molly. I suspect she already knows, but won’t do a thing about it. Poor girl. Her father seems to have considerable influence around here. His name is on everything.”

  I walked past the shops, my breath forming white clouds from the cold. I walked past Green’s Hardware Store, Green’s Cut & Curl, First Bank of Greenville, and Green’s Girls, which appeared to be a dress shop. The only thing I could find that wasn’t named after Mr. Green was Jenny’s Diner on the corner.

  “You want me to come down?” Ryder asked.

  “I’ll let you know for sure in a few hours,” I replied. “I’m going to get a bite to eat and see what else I can find out.”

  “Okay, be safe, my love,” he said.

  “Always.”

  I hung up and walked into a bustling dining room. One of the waitresses greeted me with a wave, a young woman with bright blue eyes and dark flowing hair. She escorted me to a booth by the window with a coffee pot in her hand.

  “Coffee?”

  “Please,” I said.

  “You aren’t from around here,” she said.

  “How could you tell?”

  “Because I haven’t seen your face before.”

  “You’re right,” I said, as she poured a cup of coffee for me and handed me a menu. “Looks like this is the only place that doesn’t have ‘Green’ in the name around here.”

  “Sure is,” she said, lifting her chin proudly. “My grandma had to fight tooth and nail for that. Back when that was an option. Try to do that now and you’ll get your business license revoked.”

  “I see,” I replied, looking around and realizing for the first time that most of the other customers were directly staring at me.

  “Don’t mind them,” the waitress said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Nothing new’s happened in their lives since World War II.”

  I nodded and flashed her a grateful smile.

  “I’m Grace,” I said.

  “Nice to meet you, Grace, I’m Jackie.”

  “Thank you, Jackie,” I said, picking up the menu. “I’ll just have scrambled eggs and bacon, please.”

  “Coming right up,” she said, walking away.

  It was impossible to ignore all the heads turned my way, so instead, I met the gaze of each pair of curious eyes directly. As I suspected, as soon as I did, one by one, they all turned away, leaving me in peace with my steaming mug of coffee. Slowly, I sipped it, looking out the window onto the square. It reminded me a little of the one in the movie Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, with a tall church steeple pristinely towering over the single block of tree-lined park. If it wasn’t for the modern clothes everyone was wearing, I could easily have felt as if I was back in the nineteen-fifties. Nothing seemed to have changed much — from the signs in the windows to the vintage lampposts lining the sidewalks.

  I wondered who Jenny was and figured she must have been quite the rebel in her time to go against the grain by using her own name on her diner. Then, I thought about Mr. Green and his family and wondered what kind of people they were that they insisted everything be named after them.

  It was eerie, in a way.

  Like I’d been transported to some imaginary universe in a Disney movie or something. Everything was clean, not a speck of litter or a dirty window anywhere, despite the snow — which was pristine in itself, as if the usual transformation to a slushy mud pile wasn’t allowed here.

  Jackie returned with my breakfast, a soft smile on her face.

  “What brings you to Greenville, Grace?”

  I hesitated, unable to tell her the truth.

  “I’m writing a book about small towns in Oregon,” I said. “Stumbled through a few weeks back and found it quite charming. Thought I’d come back to get a better feel for the place.”

  “We’re a long detour from the 26,” she said, citing the main highway into the Mt. Hood wilderness.

  “I like to veer off the beaten path, I guess,” I said.

  “Well, glad you found us, but I’m afraid you’ll not find much more excitement than what you see here.”

  “I was hoping to spend the night, or several, perhaps. Is there a hotel?”

  “Nope.”

  “Motel?” I asked.

  “Nope. There is technically a bed and breakfast run by Ms. Dottie, back behind the church there, in an old blue Victorian,” she pointed across the park. “She doesn’t get much business, but I bet she’d welcome you if you knocked on the door.”

  “Will do,” I said. “Thank you again.”

  “If I were you, though, I’d head up to Timberline Lodge and spend the night. It’s beautiful up there and the accommodations are a lot nicer.”

  “I think I’ll try my chances at Ms. Dottie’s,” I said.

  “Suit yourself,” she said, turning away again.

  I finished my breakfast slowly, contemplating my next move. By the constant glances I was getting from the other customers, I felt like I was being watched with every bite I took.

  I finished and left Jackie a nice tip, before heading back out into the cold in s
earch of Ms. Dottie’s bed and breakfast.

  I found it housed in a gorgeous blue and white Victorian. Book-ended with two towering turrets, a beautiful wrap-around front porch wound its way around the sides. I tried not to drool as I climbed the stairs leading to the front door. After ringing the bell, I imagined a simpler time, with a smitten couple sitting on the porch swing drinking iced tea, watching over the quiet streets on a warm night. I was still smiling when an older woman answered the door. She had bright blue eyes that sparkled in her wrinkled face, her shoulders slightly humped over inside her pink floral dress.

  She beamed at me, her smile as bright as sunshine.

  “Hello, dear, how can I help you?” she asked, her voice shaking with age.

  “My name’s Grace. I was told I might be able to rent a room from you for a while.”

  “A room?”

  “Jackie, over at Jenny’s Diner told me this was a bed and breakfast.”

  “Oh. Well, sure, technically it is. Haven’t had a real guest in a year or so.”

  “Would you be up for one now?” I asked.

  “For you? Absolutely. It’d be nice to have some company. Come in, dear! Get out of that cold.”

  “Thank you,” I smiled, stepping over the threshold and straight into the past. Beautiful antique furniture filled the front room, the walls and doors laced with all original features. An elaborately carved wooden staircase led up the stairs to my right and the gleaming hardwood floors underfoot looked smooth as silk.

  “I’m Dottie. I grew up here and inherited the house from my grandmother. Would you like some tea, dear?”

  “I’d love some,” I said, walking into the front parlour.

  “Have a seat, Grace, I’ll be right back,” Dottie said.

  Everything matched. Blue and white damask-covered sofas looked out the bay windows onto the snow covered lawn. Pale blue silk chairs sat on either side of a huge stone fireplace that crackled with hearty flames. I took off my coat and sat down on the sofa, enviously admiring the old-school charm of the place. Dottie returned quickly with a steaming mug of green tea. She sat it on the white marble coffee table in front of me and sat in one of the chairs across from me.