“One day when we were in high school – ninth or tenth grade, I think -- Spider asked me to come hang out with him after school. It was a really rare day: my mom had a doctor’s appointment, and my dad had taken the afternoon off work and taken Tallie with them. So I said yes. And Spider brought me to the clubhouse, to meet his dad. Chig.” There was a nostalgic smile in Gonzo’s voice as he said this. “It was… Well, for a teenage boy, it was amazing. All these men, treating me like a grown man because I was Spider’s friend. I was amazed by their freedom. How they didn’t answer to anybody. How they all had this tight bond of friendship. A bond I had never had in my life.
“You can imagine how much a lonely kid like that would crave what I saw,” Gonzo continued. “It was a pull I couldn’t resist. I started hanging around Spider and the club whenever I could, hoping they wouldn’t push me away. They didn’t. Spider and I prospected at the same time. We got voted in at the same time. He’s my brother now. Like all the other Fugitives.” Gonzo shifted slightly under her. “But now, it looks like they’re doubting my loyalty. They don’t trust you, Brenna. And I’m sorry I let that make me doubt you. I just… I don’t know what to do here. I know you’re trying to help us, but I don’t know how to make them see that.”
Brenna had been listening with a mixture of awe and sympathy. Awe that this man, who was so masculine, so unlike anyone she had ever known, would draw her into his confidence like this. And sympathy, for the small, lonely boy he had been. Her heart melted as she pressed closer to him. I’m falling in love with him, she realized with a start. The thought at once thrilled and terrified her.
“Gonzo. Kyle,” she began, wanting to address both parts of him. “Do you need me to walk away from this?” She drew a deep breath, then let it out. “Because I can, if you need me to.” She raised herself up on one elbow. “But you gotta tell me now,” she said, in a voice that she willed not to tremble. “Because I won’t be able to walk away for much longer.”
“It’s too late,” he said gravely. “I’m already too far in with you.” Gonzo bent his head and kissed her deeply, sending a shiver down her spine.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you, too, Bren.”
They lay like that in silence, contemplating the complex situation facing them. Brenna knew that Gonzo didn’t have any answers, and she decided not to press him for now. Changing the subject, she asked gently: “Have you seen your family lately?”
“No,” he said bitterly, his voice hitching. “My mom’s dead. Died late last year. I didn’t even know about it until after it happened. I can’t go back and face my dad and sister now, knowing I wasn’t even there to be with my own mother at the end.”
“Gonzo, I’m sure your family would be so happy to see you. They wouldn’t…”
“No,” Gonzo cut her off. “I can’t. I chose this myself. I have to live with it.” His tone told her the subject was closed. She knew it was useless to press him. Maybe someday, she thought. But not today.
Brenna lay back down on his chest, and began to idly trace the outline of the skull tattoo on his chest with her finger. “My mom died when I was born,” Brenna began. “People say I look just like her. I guess I can see it, from the photos.” She kissed his chest softly, then continued. “I wish I’d known her. My dad talks about her like she walked on water. I sometimes wonder if he blames me for her death.
“When I was a little kid, the highest compliment he ever paid me was to tell me that I was his little princess, his mini-Janet. I remember I would try to be as much like I thought she would be like as possible, so my dad would praise me. I tried to act like an adult, like a sophisticated lady. My dad’s friends all thought it was so cute that he started bringing me on the campaign trail. I was over the moon: fancy dresses, the campaign manager’s wife fussing over my hair… Lots of pictures taken of me and my daddy. It was like being a grownup almost, at least in my young eyes.
“When I got a little older, though, I began to realize that Daddy never really spent time with me. I was only really around him when I was all dolled up for some function. The rest of the time, nannies or his staff would take care of me. When the two of us were alone, which was rare, he would spend his time reading the paper or going over work stuff. When I tried to get him to talk to me or play with me, he would shush me and tell me to go find something to do. I used to think he loved me, and maybe he does, in his way. But I eventually realized, I’m really only useful to him as an accessory. Something pretty to lure voters in.”
Brenna continued, her voice turning sour. “I told you what I did because I don’t recognize my father anymore. All he seems to care about is his political future, and his business deals with his buddies. He’s not interested in doing the right thing, or in the difference between right and wrong. He wants your club gone, I’m sure of it. But not for any reason other than you’re standing in the way of something he wants. It’s not fair. And I’m not going to help him anymore. I’m not going to do what I know is wrong, just because he’s my father.”
Brenna looked up at Gonzo, who was gazing down at her with an unreadable expression. “You know we’re in for a rough ride of this, don’t you?” he said.
“Yes,” she smiled tightly, “but I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather climb on back with. We’ll get through this.”
Gonzo nodded, and kissed the top of her head. “Yes. We will.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Have you planted it yet?” Bear asked, speaking softly into the phone.
“Yeah,” came the reply. “It was easy enough. When do I get my money?”
“You get your money when I get results,” Bear replied drily. “Besides, I got one more job for you, don’t forget. Until that happens, you don’t see the money.”
“What if it doesn’t work?” the voice on the other end asked.
“It’ll work,” Bear said determinedly. “This has gotta be the thing that pushes them over the edge, you hear me? My developer buddy is getting antsy, and we can’t wait on this deal forever. The crack, and the fire, this has gotta send the Fugitives the message: they don’t run this town, never did. They want to keep their club, they gotta go someplace else.”
“You wanna be careful that your daughter ain’t there when all this goes down,” the voice said. “She’s been hanging around a lot lately.”
“Goddamnit!” Bear hissed into the phone. “I told that girl to stay away from the club! Listen, you call me and let me know if you see her at the bar or the clubhouse again,” he said. “She is not gonna fuck this up for me.”
“Okay,” Jesse Porter said. “Will do.” He hung up the gas station pay phone and walked over to his bike. Straddling it, he pulled out of the parking lot and turned in the direction of the Iron Horse.
* * *
Rube sighed as he got into his squad car. An “anonymous tip” had just come in, saying that the Fugitives had crack cocaine on the premises and that the police would be advised to go out and investigate. Rube knew that to refuse would be to risk his job, and he was too close to retirement to give up his pension now. Grumbling to himself as he drove out to the Iron Horse, he hoped sincerely that this would be the last favor that Bear Connor would call in.
* * *
Gonzo pulled up to the Iron Horse, with Brenna seated behind him on the bike. They pulled off their helmets and stepped out of the mid-afternoon sun into the cool of the bar. When Brenna’s eyes adjusted, she could make out Larry and Jan in the back, as well as a few other club members standing around the pool table. There was a feeling of tension in the air, almost a crackle. Chig and Spider looked over at Brenna and Gonzo as they came in. Spider’s expression was unreadable. Chig’s was not.
“Come on,” Gonzo said to Brenna in a low voice. “It’s okay. Chig may not like this, but the only way around this is through it.”
Over in one corner, the prospect, Jesse, stopped his conversation with Bullet and walked toward the back of the bar. “I gotta make a qu
ick call,” he said, and disappeared through the hallway.
“Hey, brother,” Gonzo said to Spider as he walked up. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Not much,” Spider replied warily. He nodded grudgingly at Brenna, who nodded back. “Hi,” she said simply.
Spider looked back at Gonzo. “You sure this is a good idea?”
Gonzo shrugged. “It’s the only way. Brenna was trying to help us. She’s not a rat, Spider. When all this blows over, everyone will know it.”
“Yeah,” Spider said, narrowing his eyes at her. “When all this is over, we’ll know the truth. One way or another.”
Chig approached Gonzo, not looking at Brenna at all. “What the fuck is she doing here?” he demanded.
“She’s with me,” Gonzo challenged. “You got a problem with that?”
Just then, the door to the bar burst open, and Rube appeared with three other cops. “Freeze!” Rube cried. “Everybody down on the ground!”
“Jesus, is he for real?” Gonzo looked at Spider.
“He said, down on the ground!” growled a young cop with a high-and-tight haircut, gesturing with his gun for emphasis.
“What the fuck is this about, Rube?” growled Chig to the chief as he got to his knees with the others.
“We have reason to believe there’s a significant amount of crack cocaine on the premises,” Rube responded, his tone both tired and officious. “I gotta warn you, Chig, if that’s the case, this is not gonna be a good outcome for you.”
“There ain’t no crack here,” Chig sneered. “Go ahead and look.” He turned his head and caught Gonzo’s eye, a warning flashing in his expression like a beacon. It was clear to Gonzo: Chig blamed Brenna for this.
The club lay prone on the wooden floor of the bar for a couple of minutes, exchanging words in low voices. Then, from the back, one of the officers called out: “Found something.” He emerged from Chig’s office, a small packet in his hand. “Looks to be about a quarter kilo. Uncut.”
“You fuckin’ set me up!” Chig snarled, moving to stand up. He pointed at Brenna. “And that fuckin’ bitch is part of it!”
“Down on the ground!” Rube yelled, but Chig lunged toward Brenna, grabbing her by the shoulders and hauling her up. Gonzo leapt up and moved to get in between them. The youngest of the cops was yelling “Down on the ground! Down on the ground!” This was his second month on the force, and the first real action he had seen. In his anxiety, he moved to separate the men, but accidentally discharged his gun. The bullet tore through the meat of Brenna’s right arm and she cried out in pain and surprise, collapsing back on the floor of the bar. She lay there writhing as Rube and another officer pulled Chig and Gonzo back from her. “Brenna!” Gonzo yelled, struggling against high-and-tight.
“Fuck!” the young officer cried out, kneeling on the ground with a frantic look on his face. “Goddamnit, Benson!” Rube shouted at him. He pulled out his handcuffs and quickly snapped them on Chig. “Call an ambulance,” he called over to Jan, who was lying on the ground a few feet away.
“Are you okay, miss?” the young officer said to Brenna in a shaky voice.
“Of course she’s not okay, you idiot!” Rube yelled. Brenna was holding her injured arm and trying not to breathe as the pain coursed through her. There was blood everywhere: on her shirt, on her hands, on the ground. “Benson, make yourself useful and tie a tourniquet around her arm!” Benson nodded, his face white as a sheet. He took his belt out of the loops on his pants and tied it around her arm, pulling it tight and holding it in place.
Gonzo was still struggling against high-and-tight, and Rube looked up at him now. “Charlie, let him go,” Rube said firmly. The second the officer released him, he was at Brenna’s side, concern etched on his face. “You okay, darlin’?” he said, patting her leg gently with his hand.
“I’ll be fine,” she smiled, trying to reassure him. “It hurts, though.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled, his eyes bright. “You’re pretty tough, you know?”
“Tough as they come,” she joked.
Soon they heard the ambulance siren off in the distance. Rube pulled Chig off the ground, still cuffed, and instructed the one he had called Charlie to grab the crack as evidence. The young officer who had shot Brenna kept pressure on her wound until the paramedics arrived, and then apologized profusely as they put her on a gurney and led her away. Gonzo wasn’t allowed to ride in the ambulance, so he followed behind it on his bike.
Rube drove back to the station, with Charlie Pike sitting next to him and Chig handcuffed in the back seat. Rube felt a remorse he hadn’t experienced in years. He knew damn well the crack was planted, and this monkey business had gotten Chig Taylor arrested and Brenna Connor shot. Rube had no idea how to make this right. Bear Connor wouldn’t stop until he had what he wanted, and Rube knew he was too much of a coward to take the mayor on. Dammit. What Bear had on him was something Rube couldn’t stand to have come out in the open. He was too old, and too set into his life, for better or for worse, to stand the threat of exposure and suffer the judgment of his friends and neighbors in Crystal Spring. Rube would rue the day Bear Connor had run into him at that rest area for the rest of his life, he thought with a twist of anguish. That was the day that taught him just how much of a coward he really was.
Chapter Fifteen
At St. Mark’s Hospital, Gonzo was pacing back and forth in the waiting room when Bear Connor came storming down the hall. Rube had called him from the police station to let him know what had happened to Brenna during the raid. When Bear recognized the young biker, he went straight for him and said through clenched teeth: “You stay away from my daughter, you hear me? Do you see what your club has done?”
“Actually, the club didn’t do it. The P.D. did,” Gonzo retorted. “You sure you didn’t have anything to do with that?”
“Don’t you dare accuse me,” Bear hissed. “Now, get out of here. You ain’t gonna see Brenna if I have anything to say about it.”
“There’s no way you can stop me from seeing her, old man,” Gonzo replied with a smirk, his eyes fierce. “And I’m not moving from here until I do.”
Bear blustered up to an information desk and demanded to be told where his daughter was. “She’s right through those doors, sir,” the nurse at the station told him, “But I’m afraid you’ll have to wait. Someone will be out soon to come find you.”
The two men sat in stony silence, casting angry glances at one another, until eventually a thirty-something nurse with fiery red hair came through the doors. “Gonzo Hendricks?” she called, looking around.
“I’m Brenna Connor’s father,” Bear said quickly, standing up. “Please take me to her.” Gonzo smirked again and raised his eyebrows at Bear, but said nothing. The nurse led Bear through the doors and through a large room with stations separated by curtains.
Brenna looked up hopefully as Bear came into the room, but her face fell as she recognized her father. “What are you doing here?” she asked dully. The red-haired nurse adjusted an IV tube in Brenna’s arm, casting curious glances between father and daughter. “The doctor will be back to see you in a few minutes, and then we’ll move you to a room,” she said to Brenna quietly, then disappeared through the curtain.
“Brenna, Jesus, what happened?” Bear crooned as he stepped toward her. “What the hell were you doing at that bar again?”
“You did this. Didn’t you,” Brenna said in a toneless voice. It was a statement, not a question.
“What the hell are you talking about?” her father cried. But Brenna had had a politician father for too long not to recognize the wheedling tone of a liar.
“You did this. You had the crack planted. You sent the cops there to arrest Chig. You’re trying to bring down the club, so you and Bob Jenkins can build that development.” Brenna looked at him, her eyes bright with wonder and disgust. “What is wrong with you? You’re a monster!”
Faced with the knowledge that his daughter saw through him and that lying
would not convince her, Bear employed the second tried-and-true politician’s ruse: accuse the accuser.
“Brenna, goddamnit, are you telling me that you are turning against your own father to defend a bunch of degenerates and criminals? Have you lost your mind? What kind of lies has this boy been telling you?”
“Don’t bother, Dad.” Brenna’s voice was tired, devoid of emotion. “I know you’re trying to turn my head in circles. I know you too well; I’ve seen you use all your tricks on other people.” She looked at him now, with a look that he had never seen before: not love, not hate. Indifference. “I’m tired of being used by you.”
Bear opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off: “I think you should go.” He continued speaking at her for a couple of minutes, but Brenna found it remarkably easy to just not listen. Eventually, he stopped and looked at her, then wordlessly stepped through the curtain and walked away. Brenna leaned her head back against the pillow and slept.
When she awoke awhile later, she was being prepped to be moved to a room. “We’re just going to keep you here overnight,” the attending doctor, a tall, gaunt man in his mid-thirties, said. “The bullet wound is clean, and we should be able to send you home with some painkillers tomorrow.”
When the red-haired nurse came back, Brenna asked after Gonzo, but the nurse said he was no longer in the waiting room. “He was here when your father arrived, but he had to leave soon after. He did tell me to tell you he’d be back soon.”
A couple of hours later, Brenna woke up in her private room and turned to see Gonzo sitting in a chair by her bed, looking at her. “Hey,” she smiled weakly.
“Hey,” Gonzo replied softly. He reached out and pushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “How you feeling?”
“Not so bad,” she said. “The painkillers are good. I just feel a little loopy.” Brenna noticed the look of tension around his eyes. “Where did you go earlier? The nurse said you were here but then you left.”
Fugitives MC Page 16
