Never Coming Down

by Deja Voss

  There sits her car, parked right out front.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch something even more disturbing.

  Then out of the other corner.

  I turn my head and look behind me. There’s another one.

  This place is surrounded by unmarked cop cars. I can smell them out from a mile away.

  What in the actual fuck is going on here?

  I get out of the truck, ready to throw down. The anger doesn’t take long to take over, to move me into real Gavin Boden territory. Someone has some explaining to do, and I’m not leaving without an answer.

  I know her apartment isn’t exactly in the best part of town, but this seems like overkill. I debate just driving off, waiting for the heat to die down, but fuck it, I don’t have anything to hide. I throw my hood up on my sweatshirt just to be on the safe side and make my way inside.

  I plod up the steps quietly, making sure I’m fully aware of my surroundings at all times. Flashbacks of the day I rescued my brother from that dingy disgusting apartment complex plague me. This place is pretty bad. Not that level bad, but not a place where I want her living. As I hit the second floor, I notice that her apartment door is wide open, and two men are standing outside.

  “Don’t worry, Jarvis,” the one says. “She’ll come around. She always does. We just gotta put a little heat on her. Dumb bitch will sing like a bird as soon as she thinks she’s going to have to suffer any consequences. She’s my all-time favorite informant. So fucking easy.”

  “You’re ruthless.” I recognize him without even seeing his face. His puffed-up faux swagger as he paces down the hall is the same one he used when he walked into my bar today. I duck onto the communal balcony, hoping they don’t notice me standing there. I’m sure I look like a creep just hovering in the hallway.

  “You know she’s going to lead us right to him. And when she does, we’re both getting promotions.”

  “You think she knows anything?”

  “I’m sure she does. What do you think she was doing hiding out the last two days?”

  I watch them as they walk down the steps, the one cop holding up Sloan’s cellphone. “Stupid girl.” He laughs.

  This can’t be happening. I don’t want to believe what I’m seeing or hearing. This can’t be right. Every word stabs me deeper and deeper. Every footstep they take makes me angrier. My father can’t be right. She can’t be working with these assholes.

  I can’t face her right now. My worst nightmare is coming true, and the only person who can make it right is the one twisting the knife. The girl I trusted. The girl who saw way too much.

  I know what I told my father I’d do if this happened, but for now I’m going to keep my mouth shut and try and gather a little more intel. It’s hard being rational when the only feeling coursing through my veins is betrayal.

  I take her duffle bag and toss it right in front of her door. I want her to know I was here, want her to know that I got her message loud and clear, although I’m still trying to sort out what all that message entails.

  Right now I need to get back up on the mountain. I need to talk to someone I can trust before I open this can of worms. I sneak down the steps, checking outside to ensure the coast is clear. Any traces of police cars seem to be gone, but I stand in the doorway for five minutes to just be on the safe side. My heart is thumping and my hand is twitching.

  I ball it up into a fist and slam it into the wall, cursing her name.

  I trusted you Sloan. And I got exactly what I deserved.

  As much as I try to let the things my parents have said to me in the past go right over my head, there’s no denying the truth in things, even if it’s just in the reality that they’ve created for myself and my siblings. As long as there is good in the world, me and my clan will always be considered evil. It’s time for me to go back to where I belong.

  Chapter 27

  Sloan

  My hands are shaking. I don’t feel safe here, not with Arthur on the loose, and definitely not with the crooked cops that were supposed to be protecting me. I feel like I’m going to black out. I need to get in touch with Gavin and tell him what’s going on. I’m sure he’s probably worried about me. I haven’t had an opportunity to tell him I wasn’t going to make it.

  First things first, though, I need to call Olive. If Arthur is really out and really on a rampage, he’ll probably be looking for her, too. She’s easy bait.

  I reach in my pocket, fishing for my cellphone. Missing.

  I tear apart the couch, digging in the cushions, pulling out pennies and stray socks, tears streaking my face.

  Did I leave it at the hospital?

  No, I remember looking at it on my ride over.

  Those shady motherfuckers, I think. There’s absolutely nothing on that phone that could incriminate me or tie me to this situation. The most he’s doing is inconveniencing me. Inconveniencing me and leaving me further helpless with a crazy man on the loose who probably wants to kill me.

  Nice work, Officer Brighton.

  I’ll just have to drive over to the camp and talk to him myself. No big deal. I knew the day would come when I’d have to take my medicine, have to slice myself open and let him see this part of me. It’s not going to be fun or pretty, but I know I can make him understand.

  I open every closet door, check every window to make sure it’s locked, even look under my bed just to be on the safe side.

  I slip on a hoodie and some sweatpants and pull the front door open.

  As soon as I see that black duffle bag sitting in front of it, I burst into tears. Gavin was here. Thoughts race through my mind millions of miles a minute. Why didn’t he knock? Why didn’t he come talk to me?

  More importantly, what did he see and what did he hear? I need to get to him, fast. I have to come clean and hope that he can understand what’s going on before it’s too late.

  Chapter 28

  Gavin:

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” Trixie asks as I plow through the clubhouse door, my head down.

  “Where’s Brooks?” I demand.

  “I have no idea. Haven’t seen him. What are you doing back already? Are you ok? Do you want some breakfast?” She’s going on and on, nervously twittering about, pacing back and forth.

  “Trixie, shut up and find me Brooks or get the fuck out of my face,” I growl.

  “Find him yourself,” she barks back, storming off.

  I feel a twinge of regret popping off at her. She’s a good woman, she’d do anything for me, anything for the club, and I definitely don’t feel like she needs to feel the brunt of this, but right now, I don’t have time for playing nice. I need to find Brooks and come up with a plan before my dad has a chance to stick his nose in this shit storm.

  “What’s up, brother?” I ask Goob, laying on the same couch in the corner as yesterday. His leg is propped up on the coffee table. I don’t want him in on this either. Not yet.

  He’s smiling from ear to ear.

  “You look happier today. What happened? Heat give you a sponge bath or something?”

  “Not quite,” he says. “I got something for ya, though.”

  He slides a manila file folder across the coffee table.

  “I decided that while I’m laid up like this that I needed to do something productive with my time. Figured it was the least I could do for the club.”

  The look in his eyes is maniacal, and I can’t even imagine what’s inside that could be bringing him so much joy.

  “What is this?”

  “Open it!” he says gleefully. “I’ve been doing a little detective work.”

  I am staring her right in the face. She’s frowning, her hair matted down, the gaze behind her eyes completely blank. It’s Sloan’s mugshot photo.

  “Where’d you get this?” I growl. “This has to be fake or something.”

  “Flip,” he says.

  There’s a document with all sorts of legalese that I don’t have the patience for right now.
/>   “I don’t have time for this shit, Goob. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “What’s wrong, Mr. Law School? You getting rusty in your old age?”

  “No, I’m tired and I’m pissed and I don’t feel like playing childish games. Spill it.”

  Everything about what I’m looking at and everything I saw with my own eyes earlier and heard with my own ears is making me sick.

  “Basically, your little girlfriend got arrested one day. Then, conveniently, she was sent home the next day. No bail. No nothing. Just sent out in the wild to do as she pleased. That is, until it was time for her to testify in court.”

  “She was working with the law?”

  “Looks like it. Got Arthur Petroski locked up for a long time. She was dating him at the time.”

  “Has Dad seen this?” I ask him. There has to be more to this story. I can’t hardly believe Sloan is some sort of legal mastermind who works with the police to find criminals to seduce so they can build cases against them. I need to buy some time before this spreads through the club. Once it does, it’s gonna be messy.

  “Of course he has.” Goob laughs. “You guys don’t take me fucking seriously. Never give me the chance to hold an office or do anything cool. I’m proving myself.”

  “Prove that you can stay clean for more than a week. Prove that you can graduate fucking high school without getting expelled for beating up on your teachers. Prove that you can do any job around here without stealing from one of us or running off to get high and crashing your fucking bike. Then you can hold office and do all the cool stuff you want.”

  “That’s classic Gavin. Trying to distract everyone with my problems so they don’t realize how badly you fucked up. What’s wrong? Now that I’m an adult you can’t just throw me away or send me off whenever I inconvenience you. Sucks, doesn’t it? And don’t fucking call me Goob anymore. My name is Hank. I’m sick of being treated like a child.”

  “Whatever,” I mutter. “Where is Dad?” I need to talk to him and tell him I’m done with her. He knows about her past, thanks to this nosy asshole, but he doesn’t have to know about what’s going on right now. As much as it would be mountain justice, as angry as I am at her right now, I think about the days we shared. I don’t want to see her physically hurt. I just need her to stay far away from us. She’s already seen and heard too much.

  “I think he’s heading to the Poconos for the day. Had a couple drops to do. Took Brooks with him.”

  Maybe it’s for the better. Let things die down a little bit before we get ourselves all worked up.

  “Did you see this shit?” I shout to Esther, waving the envelope.

  “I did,” she says softly, pursing her lips.

  “What do I do?”

  She sighs. “I don’t know. You know how that stuff works. I’m sure the whole story isn’t there. Plenty of reasons for a girl to turn on a guy. Maybe he was hurting her. Maybe he was cheating on her. I don’t know.”

  I want to believe what she’s saying. There has to be more to this story, but I know what I heard at her apartment. I know what I saw. What Esther is saying makes sense, but the things that cop was saying leads me to believe otherwise.

  I just don’t understand why she hid this from me. I don’t understand why she snuck away. Am I really that bad of a person, that scary of a guy that she would be afraid to open up to me?

  Of course I am. And of course she would. Why wouldn’t she be?

  I walk behind the bar and grab a jar of moonshine off the shelf.

  “Gavin, it’s 9 a.m.,” Esther warns.

  “And?”

  “Don’t you have shit to do with your life or something?”

  “Nope,” I say, pouring myself a glass. “Tried that out, didn’t go so good for me. Looks like I’m back to full-time Misfit. I’m sure you’re fucking thrilled, just like the rest of them.”

  She takes the glass away from me and dumps it down the sink.

  “Don’t put words in my mouth. I’m not the one who hurt you.”

  “It hurts me to look at you,” I say. “You just remind me of how terrible we all are.”

  “Get out of here with that bullshit,” she says, waving me off. “You don’t get to tell me what kind of person I am.”

  “Sure don’t. But you’re literally a whore and everyone knows it, so I guess you already know what kind of person you are.”

  She slams the glass back down on the bar and grabs the bottle, dumping it until it’s full to the brim. “At least I know my place,” she whispers in a hoarse raspy voice. Her hands are trembling. “You, on the other hand, you want to play both sides of the mountain. You want to pretend like you’re not just as fucked as the rest of us whenever it suits you. We all see right through that, Gavin. Maybe that’s why Sloan didn’t want to tell you the truth about herself. She’s not dumb.”

  She storms away, her high heels heavy on the hardwood floor.

  “And if you were so concerned about my profession, you’ve had every chance to put a stop to it. But then, how would that serve you?”

  “Esther,” I bark after her. “Get back here.”

  It’s too late to calm her down, but she’ll come around. It’s what we do here. And she’s absolutely right. I do play both sides of the fence. I thought Sloan would bring out the good in me though. Instead, she’s just proven that I can’t hide who I really am. I hang my head and start working on my morning moonshine. If I’m going to be wasting my days up here alone, I might as well be wasted.

  Chapter 29

  Sloan

  I know I should be watching my speed, especially because my last interaction with the police didn’t necessarily end on the best terms, but I’m on a mission. I need to make things right, and I need to do it as quickly as possible. My toe is tapping out of control at every red light, and I barely stop at any stop sign.

  I park out behind the Bucktail Saloon. I know they’re not open yet, but Olive’s Jeep is parked out front, and I’m sure she’s there, getting everything clean and ready to go for the day. I yank on the steel doors out back, hoping they’re unlocked.

  “Olive!” I scream, pounding on the doors, throwing my body weight into them. “Hello?!”

  She doesn’t answer.

  I run to my car and lay on the horn until I see her poke her head outside.

  “Sloan, what are you doing?” she shouts. “Are you ok?”

  “We have to get inside,” I tell her, rushing for the door. “It’s an emergency.”

  She locks and deadbolts the steel door behind us and ushers me to a booth.

  “Breathe,” she says. “And tell me what’s going on.”

  “Arthur’s escaped from prison and he’s coming for me. The cops are trying to use me as bait. They stole my phone. They’re corrupt! They set me up!” I’m hyperventilating, sobbing so hard my words are barely understandable. “He’s gonna come get you too, Olive, I know it. We’re in serious danger.”

  She grabs a bottle of whiskey off the bar and slams it down on the table. She slides in the booth next to me and takes a drag from the bottle before passing it to me.

  “Olive!” I scream. “Are you not listening to me?”

  “Oh, I hear you loud and clear,” she says. “But what are we gonna do? We’re in the safest place we can possibly be right now. Might as well just ride the storm out.”

  “This isn’t a fucking hurricane party! This is serious shit.”

  “Sloan, you have nothing to worry about. Don’t you understand? We are protected by the most dangerous biker gang in the state. You think wimpy ass Arthur is going to have a leg to stand on up against these guys? You’re crazy.”

  I know she’s right. Or I mean, I guess she WOULD be right, had I played my cards differently.

  “Yeah, about that…” I say, trailing off.

  “What did you do, Sloan?” she hisses at me.

  I explain to her about how Officer Brighton had stopped by the hospital looking for me. How I saw the note on my car and cal
led him back. I explain how I found my duffle bag in front of my apartment door, the very one I left at the camp.

  She pulls out her cellphone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m calling him now. We need to get this shit straightened out.” I breathe a sigh of relief, hoping that’s all it’s going to take to make this right. She looks down at her phone with disappointment.

  “He’s not answering.”

  “Try again!” I urge.

  “I don’t understand why you’d be so deceptive, Sloan. It’s crazy to me. I thought you cared about this guy. I thought you wanted to spend your life with him. Hell, yesterday morning he was telling me you guys were basically moving in together. Why didn’t you just woman up and clear the air? You should’ve told him as soon as you thought something was up.” She leans back in the booth, closing her eyes.

  “He’ll get it, won’t he?” I ask. “I was just trying to protect him. I really thought the police were using me to get to him. After everything that’s happened over the past couple days, after everything I saw, I figured maybe they were on to something. I just wanted to know exactly what was going on before I dragged him into this.”

  She pulls out her phone, trying to reach him again. “Fucking voicemail,” she groans.

  “I mean, for your sake, I hope so Sloan. For my sake, too. I don’t know how deep this shit goes, but this is the best job I’ve ever had in my life. These people have become my family. I don’t want it to all go away because you couldn’t be upfront about your past. I mean, look at them, look at us, we’re all hiding from something. We all have regrets. But we wear ’em proudly. Like that tattoo of yours. That shouldn’t be something you’re ashamed of. That is proof that you’ve lived your life.”