by London Casey
“Hello?” I asked again.
“Hey,” a rough voice said.
It sent instant chills through my body. Not the kind you got when you were afraid. The kind when you know something… something intense happened. Not good, not bad, but just intense.
I promised myself I would never forget Duke’s voice. Or his last words to me.
Sweetie, you’re better off…
“Duke?” I asked, never thinking I’d actually say his name again.
“Belle?”
Hearing him say my name made me shiver again. My inner thighs were trembling. The temperature in my car rose by the second.
“What are…”
“You called me?” he asked.
Oh… shit…
“I… yeah… last…”
“You called me four times,” he said.
He sounded pissed off.
I collected myself for a second.
“Yeah, I did. Sorry. No. Wait.”
“Belle, what do you want?”
“What do I want?” I asked. “Seriously?”
“How did you get my number?”
“Jim’s phone,” I said.
“Shit.”
“What?”
“Nothing. How… how are you?”
I felt the trembling stop as the anger entered the picture. Straight ahead of me Jim came out onto the front porch. Still wearing the same clothes as the day before. His hair a mop mess. A beer in his hand.
“Terrible,” I blurted out.
“Oh?”
“You fucked up, Duke.”
“Excuse me?”
“You left Jim behind.”
Did you really just say that?
“You called to tell me that? At fucking one in the morning?”
“Because Jim tried to kill himself.”
“Holy shit…”
“Well, I don’t know if he meant to try. But he came close. Very close. Almost choked on his own puke.”
“Look, Belle… there’s nothing…”
“Don’t give me your excuses,” I said. “He’s a shell of what he was before he left.”
“We all are, sweetie,” Duke said.
I hated Duke’s voice. Calm. Soothing. Rough. Sweetie.
“You fucked me over too,” I said. “You fucked everything. You got him into the military. You and him…”
The rage bubbled.
My eyes filled with tears.
“That’s it?” Duke asked as I lost my breath. “You got all that off your chest?”
“Fuck you.”
“You called me, Belle.”
“I need help with him,” I said. “He’s going to kill himself. I know it.”
“I’m a lifetime away. You don’t know a thing about me.”
“I know, Duke. You think you’re tough with a motorcycle now? Jim can barely walk straight.”
“I saved him. That was all I could do.”
“So that’s what you decided? To leave a brother behind? To leave me behind?”
“I already told you… you’re better off.”
“I’m not,” I said. “I wasn’t then. Don’t tell me what I should think or feel.”
“Then don’t fucking call me for answers you don’t want.”
I hated him. I hated everything about him.
Jim drank his beer and turned. I saw him stumble and I knew it wasn’t from his leg either. He was drunk already. In the early afternoon.
“I hope you’re happy,” I said.
“I’m not,” Duke said. “Got anything else for me?”
“You’re a real asshole. My brother needs you. You were the only one who could ever talk to him. He’ll never admit it…”
“You want to help? Walk away. Don’t try to get into that mind. You have no idea what it was like over there. What we saw. What we did. What we went through.”
“I don’t. I would never say I did. But you promised…”
“Fuck promises,” Duke growled. “Don’t spit promises back at me.”
“I’m sorry I called.”
“So am I, sweetie.”
Just like that, the call was over. The years of waiting, lingering, wondering what it would be like to talk to Duke again and that’s what I got. Not that I should have expected anything else. From what I heard and tried to learn, Duke came home and was a different person. He got into fights, got arrested, gave up on the entire military life and image. He then started hanging out with the local motorcycle gang and got accepted into it.
I stared at Jim on the porch and wondered if the same would have happened to my brother if he hadn’t lost his leg.
I climbed out of the car and held back on my emotions.
When I approached the porch, Jim finished off his beer and put the bottle on the wooden railing.
“Rough day?” he asked me.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, Jim,” I said.
I started to move by him and his hand shot out and grabbed my arm. I spun and he stepped back, keeping his balance. The son of a bitch knew how to walk with his prosthetic leg when he wanted to.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Got all day to listen?”
“Seriously, Belle. That look on your face. I only ever see that look when a boy hurts you. Who?”
I felt my face get red. “Nothing, Jim.”
“Where were you?”
His eyes were narrow.
“Brunch with Maggie. She’s having issues.”
“What kind?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yes I do,” he said. “Go get me a beer and we’ll talk.”
It was a rare moment to talk to my brother without fighting. He didn’t want to talk about him neglecting himself. Or his house. Or the tree out back. Or anything that remotely resembled a normal life.
Still, it was better than finding him choking on his vomit.
I got two beers and sat on the top step of the porch. Just like I used to do in a different life. I used to sit with Duke. I’d wrap my arms around his arm and put my head on his shoulder. We’d sit there until sundown. Then Dad would find random excuses to come outside and bother us. His way of trying to protect me.
I used to sit there too and smoke. After everyone went to bed, I would sit there and smoke a cigarette or two, feeling cool as anything. I killed that habit a long time ago though.
Jim put his bottle toward me. “Cheers, sis.”
I clanked my bottle to his. “Cheers.”
“Tell me about Maggie.”
“Trust me, it’s nothing interesting. She’s hung up on her ex. Every time this guy calls, she falls right back in love. Sleeps with him. Then he breaks her heart the next morning.”
“Sounds like a fucking tool.”
“Exactly,” I said. I glanced at Jim. “When was the last time you were out on a date?”
He turned his head at me. “What the fuck does that matter?”
“Just trying to have a conversation.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. Is Maggie okay? She safe and all?”
“Why? You want me to talk to her for you?”
“Shit. No. I didn’t say that. How’d you get that out of a question? Dammit, Belle…”
Jim grabbed his leg and bent it. He then ran his fingers back and forth where his leg ended and the prosthetic began.
“You know, Maggie has her own cleaning business,” I said. “She’s really good.”
Jim raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I could have her help out around here. For both of us.”
“Right. Both of us.” Jim took a big drink.
I opened my mouth and held back for a second. Then I asked, “What happened with you and Duke?”
“What? Where did that come from?”
“Just curious.”
“Trust me, sis, it’s none of your damn business.”
“So do you have anything to talk about?”
“Nothing.”
“Other tha
n Maggie,” I said. “So worried about her. You should have asked her out a long time ago then.”
Jim looked at me. “Why? So I could get sent over there, get blown the fuck up, and come home to a broken woman? Why put her through that? Day in and day out, worrying about me. Wondering if and when I was going to be able to call or write. Wondering if it was me each time she watched the news and heard about another situation over there? And now… what? Have her catering to me as some fucking cripple?”
My jaw dropped.
Jim threw his beer bottle back and pounded the entire thing. He put the bottle between us and pulled himself up. I watched as he walked across the porch to the railing, putting his hands to it, staring off the side of the porch.
“Jim…”
“Let it go,” he said. “Go back to bitching at me about a dirty pan in the sink.”
Yeah, and that’s why I never brought any of that stuff up to Jim. If I did, he would spout off something about fighting a war and then compare to what I yelled at him for.
Jim went back inside and I didn’t even bother chasing him down.
To be honest, I was fucking tired. Of everything.
There had been a split second of hope that Duke would come and fix everything - like he always would and the way he promised he always would. But that wasn’t going to happen.
It was a dream gone bad.
So I sat there alone, drinking a beer that I didn’t want.
I really wanted a cigarette.
seven.
(duke)
I lined up my shot and took it. The cue ball smacked the eight ball. I sank the fucking thing right into the corner pocket I called for. Cash, Tristan, and Hudson erupted in cheers as Max threw his stick across the bar.
I put my stick down and pointed to the table.
“Fuck this,” Max said. He threw five twenties on the table and took his beer and walked away.
Cassie walked toward me with two beers in her hands. She had this little tick-tock thing going on with her hips, her shirt pulled up just enough to show some skin. She was blonde hair, blue eyed, full of wildness, obviously new to this life. Just wait until she saw her first dead body or one of us brothers cut up or shot. She’d learn real fucking fast that it wasn’t all about riding fast and fucking hard.
“Congrats,” she purred at me. “Let’s drink and pick up where we left off before.”
Temptation was an old friend of mine. But my phone conversation with Belle really fucking rattled me. Shit, where had that come from? Calling me about Jim? I hadn’t talked to him…
Fuck.
I jumped out of my convoy, like a fucking fool. I heard screams and shouts. It felt like there were bomb blasts everywhere. I was running the wrong way, no protection, all my fucking training completely left somewhere else. All I could focus on was the twisted pieces of black metal that used to be the ride Jim was in.
When bullets started to zing by me I dove forward and hit the ground. I returned fire until the guys behind me took control so I could save Jim. I got to him and pulled him out of the charred mess. His face was bloody and black. His eyes were dazed. His hands clutched to me, shaking, filthy. The second I looked down his body I saw that he was missing a leg. Shock settled in pretty fucking quickly for both of us.
“I got you, brother,” I shouted. “You’re safe.”
Jim reached up and touched my cheek. “I didn’t get them all out. Billy… I let him die…”
There were more explosions, the ground rumbling like a damn earthquake.
Seconds later we had air support.
Two of my guys came to Jim’s aid, trained medics, knowing what to do and how to do it.
I pulled back and away from Jim, our hands holding together until I had to break the hold. Then I lost my fucking mind. I stood up, grabbed a gun, and just started unloading. Everything went black. I only stopped shooting because I got shot.
“You listening to me?” a voice rang out in my memory.
I saw my left hand balled up in a tight fist. I was shaking. I felt a cold rage in my veins.
I snapped my head to the left and saw pretty Cassie. I put my hand to her lower back. “Tell you what,” I said. “Go find Max. Take care of him tonight. Tell him it was from me.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t do…”
“You’re in my clubhouse, act accordingly. You’re a fucking reliever so do your damn job or leave.”
That was Cassie’s first dose of reality.
I watched her walk away and I curled my lip. I walked toward the bar and Cash spun around from his stool.
“What happened?” he asked. “She finally see how small your dick really is?”
He was just fucking around, but I wasn’t in the mood.
I slammed my beer bottle off the bar. I grabbed Cash by his shirt and pushed him against the bar. I thrust forward with the broken bottle only to have someone hook their arm into mine and stop me.
“Fuck, brother,” Jasper yelled in my ear. “Take it outside. Right now.”
“Jesus Christ,” Cash said. “Go take a fucking pill or something, man.”
I dropped the broken bottle. I walked to the door and punched it open, going outside. I walked to a picnic table and flipped it over. That did nothing. I started to pace like a hungry animal, wanting to fucking attack. Yet there was nothing to actually attack that would make me feel better.
Shit, it wasn’t even about Jim. It was about Belle. I made myself very clear to her a long time ago. She didn’t need this shit in her life. Especially with her brother being hurt. And fuck, I had no idea she was taking care of Jim on her own. Her old man died a while back from heart issues. I spent the night getting shit wasted during his funeral. I fucked two different women, trying to chase the guilt away.
I should have gone to the funeral.
“Fuck,” I said.
“You need something,” a voice said from behind me.
I turned and Trev was there. “Prez…”
“Hey, take it easy,” Trev said. “You want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Fair enough.” Trev put his hand forward. “Fresh beer?”
“No.”
Trev kept the beer for himself. He stepped up next to me. He was the same height as me. I probably had a few extra pounds of earned muscle than he had. Yet he stood there so calm. Staring out into the night. It pissed me off.
“Whatever the fuck you think you have to do tonight, I would just go with it,” Trev said. “As long as you’re not going to hurt yourself physically. Or wind up in jail. But even if you do, we’ll back you up, Duke.”
Jesus Christ… did this guy really have to be that good of a President?
“Anything else, Prez?” I asked.
Trev put a hand to my shoulder; my torn up shoulder. His thumb dug into the wound and I stood there, accepting the pain.
“Your brothers have your back,” he said. “Never forget that. But don’t ever put a broken bottle to another brother’s throat without good cause. We all know your dick is huge. No need to act like some fucking dumb ass high school jock.”
Trev walked away.
That was true command. I respected him for that. Coming up to Daurian and taking over the mess Ripper left.
If I wasn’t going to fuck Cassie… or drink beer… there was only one thing to do.
Ride.
And I knew where I would end up if I got on that open road.
I had to see Belle.
eight.
(belle)
I heard Jim’s voice mumbling from the kitchen. It wasn’t my place to just barge in and snoop on him. Yeah, it was one big house but I did try my best to respect privacy. But I just had to make sure he was okay. I snuck into his bathroom and opened the cabinet. I counted the pill bottles.
All good.
I grabbed the heaviest pain killer and twisted off the cap. I looked inside and tried to do my best mental count. It didn’t loo
k like there was a lot missing. Other than his normal dosage.
I put the cap back on and stuck it in the cabinet. I shut the door and saw the reflection of Jim as he stood behind me.
I let out a loud scream and jumped.
When I spun around, Jim was still there, his phone to his ear.
“We’ll finish up tomorrow,” he said and ended the call.
“Jim,” I said.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“You know what I’m doing.”
“Making sure I’m not trying to kill myself?” Jim asked.
“Don’t do this,” I whispered. “I have to…”
“Yeah, right,” Jim said.
He turned and walked away. I went after him. “Who were you talking to?”
“Just taking care of myself, sis. Just like you wanted me to do.”
“What does that mean?”
Jim paused and looked over his shoulder. “My business. Not yours.”
I followed him to the kitchen and I saw a bottle of whiskey on the table. There was a folder open with papers in it. Jim closed the folder and grabbed the bottle of whiskey. He drank from it and walked away with the folder.
I considered pestering Jim but I took it for face value. If he was doing something on his own for himself that had to be a good thing. A good sign. So I left it be.
My plans shifted. I wanted a hot bath, a glass of wine, and a good night of sleep. I had a meeting the next day at one of the properties. At least it was something to do.
I made it to the steps when I heard an all too familiar sound. My hand on the post, one foot on the first step. I shut my eyes and shook my head, telling myself it was impossible. No way a motorcycle was coming anywhere near our road. Hell, the last time a motorcycle was here…
The sound got louder.
I turned and saw a flash of light through the glass of the front door. I hurried to tear it open as the motorcycle came to a stop. I flicked on the porch light, which didn’t help me see any better, and I opened the door.
My foot touched the porch as a towering figure climbed off the motorcycle. He took off his helmet and started to walk forward, without fear, like he owned the house.
I tried to find something to say but the second I actually saw him in the pale light of the porch, I lost my breath.
Duke was here.
**
I thought I was going to collapse. I put my hands to the doorway as Duke stopped at the second step. Even there he was already taller than me. He had forever been taller than me, from the day I met him when he and Jim were in sixth grade. They used to get in trouble with firecrackers, always trying to blow something up.
