by Jessie Cooke
“Hi, Harley.” She looked at Claire then and Harley said:
“Hey, Twila. This is my new friend, Claire. Claire, this is Twila and that is Brenda over there by the stove.” Brenda, a dark-haired woman in her mid to late thirties, raised a hand and smiled. Twila smiled too and said:
“Welcome. I saw you come in earlier with Hunter and some other guy.”
“Y’all hungry?” Brenda asked.
“Starving,” Harley answered for both.
“Have a seat. We’ve got fried chicken and mashed potatoes tonight.”
“Sounds amazing,” Harley said. She and Claire sat down at the table where Twila was sitting, and Twila looked up from her phone again and said:
“Did Cody ride over to Brownie’s?” Harley nodded and the other woman looked back down at her phone. She had what looked like a worried crease between her eyes. Harley must have noticed it too because she said:
“What? What’s happened?”
Twila shook her head. “Nothing, I guess. It’s just that I was texting with Hurricane about a brunch I’m working with her to cater in a few days and she just disappeared on me in mid-conversation.”
“Maybe she just got busy?” Harley said, almost like she was trying to convince herself. Claire didn’t know who this “Hurricane” was, but she did know that Brownie’s was where her father had gone with the bikers.
“Maybe. It’s just not like her. She’ll usually tell me that she’ll talk later or something, but she just kind of disappeared…”
“Shit,” Harley said. She took her phone back out just as Brenda sat two plates of delicious-looking food down in front of them. Suddenly, Claire had lost her appetite. She watched Harley as the other woman sent a text. Harley’s green eyes didn’t leave the face of the phone for several long minutes. When she finally looked up, she looked worried. “Cody’s not answering.”
“I’m sure they’re fine,” Brenda said. She didn’t sound any more convinced that the other two women looked. Harley was sending another text and seconds later, she got one back.
“Shit,” she said. “They’re okay, so far…but they’re holed up in the bar. Street Chaos did show up, in full force. Cody had them lock the bar rather than try to face off with them, outnumbered.”
“How do you know?” Twila asked.
“I texted Bess. Dillon sent her up to the apartment. She says everyone’s okay, so far.”
“Shouldn’t we call the police?” Claire asked. She had her own phone in her hand and she nearly fell in the floor with shock when Twila snatched it out of her hand. “What the hell? Give it back!”
“Fuck that! Call the police? Who the hell…?”
“Twila,” Harley said, not as calm as she had sounded earlier. Twila stopped talking and put Claire’s phone down on the table. When Claire went to reach for it, Harley gently laid her hand on top of the other woman’s. “We don’t call the police,” she said.
“I don’t understand,” Claire said, genuinely confused. “Normally, where my father is concerned, I wouldn’t either. But their lives are in danger, right?”
“And most of them are armed. Most of them are felons and are not supposed to be carrying. Your father is wanted by the police, Claire. They’ll arrest him and anyone else in there who’s carrying. Calling the police will only make matters worse.”
“I thought Dax was supposed to take care of this. Where is he, and Hunter?”
Harley shook her head again. With a thoughtful look, she punched another number into her phone. After a few seconds she said, “Angel, have you talked to Dax?”
Harley listened and didn’t say another word. She pressed “end call” and sat there staring at the wall for several seconds before she said, “Handsome is with her right now. Angel got a phone call from a man. He wouldn’t give her his name. He said that Dax and Hunter are dead.”
Claire gasped out loud. She felt dizzy. What the hell had she gotten herself into? Hunter is dead? She felt like she was going to pass out. It was all surreal. Hunter’s dead? No. She just made love to him. He was the first man she’d let touch her since…he couldn’t be dead. Her head was spinning and for a few seconds she checked out. When she looked up again, Harley was already going out the kitchen door, back into the great room. Claire ignored the dirty looks Twila was now giving her and followed Harley.
Harley was behind the bar, talking to the nice-looking man that had ignored her earlier. He looked interested now. “Fuck, where is she?”
“She’s up at the house with Handsome. Hopefully he stays with her because, Kyle, you know she won’t stay put. If she thinks there’s even a chance Dax is dead…”
The man was already on his feet. “Yeah, I know. My sister is a pain in the ass. This all sounds like bullshit to me. I’ve got to go catch her before she does something stupid.” Harley was nodding and Claire stepped up next to her. The man in the business suit headed for the door.
“Who is he?” Claire asked.
“Kyle Brady,” Harley said. “He’s Dax’s brother-in-law.”
“Harley, do you believe Dax and Hunter are really dead?”
Harley slowly shook her head. “I don’t know. I hope not…for a lot of reasons. I love Dax. He’s been like an older brother to me for a long time, and I like Hunter. As much as it would hurt to lose either of them, personally, it will kill this club. If Dax is gone, whoever killed him will have hell to pay and the Skulls will wage a war unlike any the city has ever seen.”
Claire felt sick to her stomach. She was worried about Larry, but she was sick over the idea of Hunter’s being dead. God couldn’t really be that cruel…could he?
18
“Where’s Dax?” Cody’s head was pounding. If Larry the loser asked where Dax was in that whiny-ass voice one more time, he might just fire the first bullet of the night. They got to the bar just before eight like Dax told them to. He and Hunter were supposed to have talked to Trayvon by then and Dax was supposed to text Cody…or show up, and let them know what was going on. But Dax never texted, and he never showed up, and Cody had known him long enough to know that was all bad. Dax would never abandon them; if there was any way humanly possible he could be there…he would be.
Cody had called the whole thing off a few minutes after eight and they were headed out to their bikes when the parking lot suddenly started filling up. The cars were luxury cars and classic cars. They were shiny and their engines purred. Most noticeably though, none of them had license plates on them and they were all being driven by big black men with red bandanas on their heads. Cody and Jimmie had been the first out the door. They were the last back inside, expecting gunfire before they stepped back into Brownie’s. That didn’t happen, but the men of Street Chaos were still sitting in those cars in the parking lot…at least twenty, twenty-five of them. Cody didn’t know what they were waiting for, but he’d done his best to channel Dax when he stood up in front of the ten men, Dillon, and Hurricane and gave his little speech.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” he said. “Dax hasn’t returned my texts or calls and we all know that’s a bad sign. But there is still a good possibility that he’s sitting down with Trayvon right now and that’s why these guys are just sitting out there, waiting for orders. So, I’m going to say we sit tight for a while and see what happens before we turn this into a big scene. I don’t want anyone using their phones either,” he had told them. Kat was texting someone on hers right that second. She put it down on the bar and Cody gave her a little nod. His brothers and Dillon all took theirs out and laid them on the bar as well, and so did he. After the incident with Larry’s phone earlier, he didn’t trust them. He didn’t know who was watching them, listening to them, or why. If it were the old days and they were running drugs and guns, he might suspect DEA or FBI, but these days if they were going to get busted for anything, it would be the cars. That’s not to say they weren’t into anything else, just that things were a lot more covert than they used to be. It did feel good to know that his brothers
, and even Kat, were giving him the same kind of respect that they would Dax in this situation. It was the only thing about the night that felt good. He could see the same fear in their faces that he felt in his heart. Where the hell is Dax? Is he okay? How long should we wait?
He sucked up his anxiety and said, “You have anything to eat in the kitchen, Kat?”
She looked down at her ankle. It had been put in a cast and David had dropped her off at the bar on his way to work earlier. She was hobbling around on crutches, and cussing when Cody and the others got there. “Sure, Cody. I’ll hobble on into the kitchen and whip us up something.” She rolled her eyes. Cody realized his mistake as soon as he made it.
“Sorry. Is it okay if we go rustle something up?” Levi laughed and Cody cocked his eyebrow in his direction.
“Sorry,” Levi said, “But ‘rustle something up’? I just got a vision of Marshall Dillon and Miss Kitty.”
“I was named after Marshall Dillon, you know,” Kat’s father, former almost pro football player and raging alcoholic, launched into a tangent about the old western show Gunsmoke. Kat groaned out loud and stood up unsteadily with one crutch under her arm.
“I’d rather hobble around in the kitchen than listen to this,” she said. Levi got up to help her, and Dillon was still talking and Hawk was the only one listening when in a tiny little voice Larry said:
“I can cook.”
Kat stopped and looked at him. “You can cook?”
“Sure. I help Claire out at the Inn all the time.”
Kat looked at Cody. “You think he can be trusted in a kitchen full of knives?”
Cody glared at Larry for a few seconds, hopefully conveying without words that he’d be making a fatal mistake if he tried anything that stupid. Then he said, “Hey, Twist, go with them and watch him. Kat, stay off that ankle.”
Kat rolled her eyes and said, “Sure, now that someone else can cook, you’re suddenly worried about my ankle. Chivalry is not dead after all.”
Cody grinned at her. She flipped him off with the hand that wasn’t holding the crutch under her arm. Once she and Larry disappeared into the kitchen, followed by Twist, Cody said, “Hey, Dillon, how about another round of drinks?” He was doing his best to appear calm and as if everything was normal, but inside he felt anything but calm and normal. He couldn’t stop worrying about Dax. He was the closest thing Cody had to family for a long time before he started his own. Cody wasn’t sure what he’d do if he lost him. As much as he adored Harley and Ian, most of his days still started and ended with something Dax had said to him, or taught him. Dax made it possible for him to live a semi-normal adolescence. His own mistakes had landed him in prison and still, Dax had been there for him. When he thought about the possibility that something had happened to his president, his brother, his mentor…his family…his chest hurt and he felt like he couldn’t take a deep breath. The only thing keeping him together so far was the sound of Dax’s voice in his head, telling him to stay calm and somehow things would work themselves out. He hoped to God that this wasn’t the first time that voice was wrong.
Angel could see Kyle following her in the rearview mirror of her bike. She’d finally gotten rid of Handsome by playing the role of the terrified, helpless female. She’d let her eyes fill with tears and she’d called Zoe in front of him and asked her to come over because she “didn’t want to be alone.” Handsome was a good guy, but he wasn’t great with feelings and emotions. When Zoe got there and Angel pretended to completely break down, Handsome high-tailed it back to the clubhouse. The second she heard his bike start up, Angel had looked at Zoe and said:
“Someone called me and told me that Dax and Hunter were shot dead tonight, by one of the Street Chaos.”
Zoe gasped. “Oh my God, Angel…”
Angel shook her head. “The thing is, Street Chaos would never rat on themselves and only someone that was looking to die themselves would. I think it’s bullshit. But I have to know for sure. I have to go find Dax.” Zoe had been through a lot in her life, but club life was still new to her. Nevertheless, she didn’t hesitate to say:
“Go, I’ll be here with Susie as long as you need me.” Zoe loved Angel’s and Dax’s daughter before they even knew her and if not for her and Levi, Angel and Dax would have never even met the little girl that had completed their family. So Angel felt a sharp pang of guilt in her chest when Zoe asked, “If you get a chance, would you text me…if you see Levi?”
“Oh, Zoe! Of course. I’m so sorry. I’ve been so worried about Dax…”
Zoe smiled. “It’s okay, Angel. Dax is your priority, I understand that. I know you care about the rest of them too. Between you and me, I’m positive that Levi’s okay, so far.”
Angel and Zoe had gotten close over the past year. During the course of getting to know her, Angel had discovered she had the capacity to look at things “between the black and white,” as Zoe told her. Zoe and Levi had what they called a “supernatural experience” that had brought them together and Susie had been a part of that as well. Angel, a former cop who was raised by a father who was a homicide detective and four brothers, rarely looked at anything other than black and white. She had been trained not to believe anything that she couldn’t touch, see, smell, or hear. But with the help of her daughter she’d come to accept the fact that Zoe and Levi were connected on some sort of cosmic level. Tonight, she wished that she had that with Dax. Her gut was telling her that he was okay, but her heart still ached, just at the thought of losing him.
Angel had hugged Zoe, thanked her, and promised to call as soon as she knew anything. She didn’t really have a plan, but she had her gun holster strapped on, the way she used to wear it when she was a cop…and she didn’t have any qualms about using the gun she had tucked in it, or the one in her boot, if she had to. Her only problem, as she got off the highway on the exit toward Dorchester, was the man in the rearview mirror. She loved her brother, and he could be a hell of an ally to have on your side. He could also be a giant pain in the ass. Unfortunately, with Kyle, you never really knew what you were going to get.
Angel took the cutoff that led away from Dorchester and toward a neighborhood that she hadn’t been to in a long while. When she was a cop, she’d spent a lot of time here. It had been the worst neighborhood on their beat and the one they all hated getting called out to. A call from one of its citizens was rare. They hated cops and no one there trusted them, not even the kids. Usually, the calls didn’t come in until something terrible had happened and someone was already dead or mortally wounded. Angel knew this neighborhood was where Street Chaos ruled, and where they lived, and where Dax would be, if they had him. She drove until she came to the street where they’d hung out the last time she’d been there, and then she pulled over to the side of the road and shut off the engine. She was pulling off her helmet when Kyle pulled up next to her and shut off his bike as well.
“What the fuck are you doing, Angel?”
“Looking for my old man.”
“You know better than to go into this neighborhood alone, without backup. Have you lost all of your cop instincts?”
“No, I just didn’t want someone trying to talk me out of this.”
“What is this, exactly? Harley said someone called you. What did they say, exactly?”
“He said, ‘Your old man and that piece-of-shit bounty hunter are dead. Street Chaos killed them and they’ll be sending his body home in pieces.’ Then he hung up. That was it.”
“Did he talk with any kind of accent?”
“No different than the way most of us around here talk. He sounded like he was from Boston. He wasn’t talking like he was from the streets, though. His grammar was good.” Angel and Kyle both knew from their time in the gang task force that different gangs sometimes spoke in almost an entirely different language. “He didn’t sound like he belonged to a street gang.”
“What is going on that I don’t know about?” Kyle spent a lot of time at the clubhouse or at Angel’s
house now that he’d retired from the police department and worked as an investigator for a law office. Angel thought it was because he was lonely. Dax often suggested that it was because he still didn’t trust the club, and might still be looking for a way to bring them down. Either way, he wasn’t privy to what went on behind the scenes, just in case.
“I don’t really have time to go into all of that…”
“Then you’re asking me to go into this blindly.”
“I’m not asking you to go into this at all. As usual, you’ve insinuated yourself into a place uninvited…”
“You want to argue, or you want to find your old man?”
She sighed. “Dax went to talk to Trayvon tonight. He took Hunter with him. There are about ten other guys over at Brownie’s. They have one of Hunter’s bail-jumpers with them. I don’t know all of the details, but I know that they knew they were riding into a set-up. Someone is trying to start a war between Street Chaos and the Skulls. Dax was hoping that by informing Trayvon, they might be able to work together. Last I heard from Handsome, the bar was surrounded by the gang bangers with the Skulls inside and Dax hasn’t texted, called, or shown up. So, I’m going to start at the last place we know he was going, the old crack house that Trayvon uses to meet with his guys.”
“Okay…did Trayvon know Dax was coming? Did he get permission to be here?”
Angel almost laughed. Kyle still had no real idea how things worked. Dax Marshall didn’t “get permission” to be anywhere. He went where he wanted or needed to go and the people there dealt with it, or with him. She knew that was an arrogant view of her old man, but it was also true. “No, as far as I know, Trayvon didn’t know he was coming,”
“Then he probably didn’t ride his bike through the neighborhood and announce his arrival,” Kyle said. He looked around them and after a few minutes he said, “We need to find a place to park these bikes and do this on foot.” Angel nodded. As she got off her bike, she realized that she was shaking. Her body was such a mixture of anxiety, fear, and adrenaline, she wasn’t sure which one was to blame. She didn’t care either. She knew that the second Dax’s arms were wrapped around her, the shaking would stop and once again her world would be complete.
