by Chiah Wilder
Bringing her fingertips to her temples, she massaged them lightly in a feeble attempt to thwart an encroaching headache. She pressed her lips together and shook her head again.
“You wanna stay in Pinewood Springs?” He leaned against his dresser, his eyes boring into her.
Her heartbeat picked up as hope fought with despair inside her. “Do you want me to?”
He shrugged. “You gotta do what’s best for you. You and I are just friends.”
“Do friends act like we did last night?” she said softly.
He blew out a long breath. “Last night was fuckin’ awesome and this morning was pretty damn good.” He grinned and she wanted to slap him hard across the face because she knew he was going to crush her hope. “But a lot of time has passed between us. We’re different people than we were in high school, and we got different lives.”
“What do you see in your future? Do you want a family?”
He laughed and stubbed out his joint. “The last thing I want is to be tied down. I love the freedom of easy livin’, if you know what I mean.” He winked at her.
“You never want to settle down and have kids?”
“Not for a fuckin’ long time. I don’t have time for a family. For one thing, I’m an Insurgent. I’m the Sergeant-At-Arms for the club. There’s no way I’d want to risk an old lady or a kid getting hurt.”
“I know you belong to the club, but you could leave it if we rekindle what we once had.”
He looked at her as if she’d gone insane. For a short moment, she thought he was going to have a stroke his eyes were opened so wide. “Leave the Insurgents? That’ll never fuckin’ happen. When I joined the MC, it was a life commitment. A person doesn’t stay for a few years and leave. It’s a brotherhood of support, love, loyalty, and respect. It’s who I am.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I guess I don’t understand what the club is and how it affects you. I’d like to understand it so I can know you better.” She clutched the sheet in her hand. “I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do. After last night, I thought maybe you and I could try and explore this connection we have between us. It’s strong, like a magnet pulling me to you, and I suspect you to me. You feel it, don’t you?” She glanced at him.
He nodded as he stubbed out his roach in an ashtray on the dresser. “Yeah, I fuckin’ feel it, but I wonder if it’s just ‘cause we got a history. I’m going to level with you, chérie. I don’t know if I can trust you.”
Her hand flew to her chest as she leaned forward. “Can’t trust me? Why would you say that?”
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me? When I needed you the most you fuckin’ bailed on me. I hadn’t even had my trial yet and you were back dating Luc. Don’t you remember that, or do you have selective memory?”
Don’t condemn me for something I couldn’t help. I want to tell you everything, but in doing so, I risk losing it all. “I know it looked like I didn’t care, but you must believe me when I tell you that I never stopped loving you. Not for one minute did my heart belong to anyone but you.” Her voice hitched, and she noticed his eyes had softened a bit.
“Well, that’s in the past anyway. Now I gotta deal with a pissed-off prez and what I’m gonna do with you.”
“I’m not your problem. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I’ve cared and worried about you since I first saw you kneel beside that rich fucker. I’m not going to abandon you now. I can help you get a job and place here, but I think you’ve got to go farther away if you don’t want the fuckwad to find you. Have you heard from him?”
“Only texts telling me he’s desperate to have me back.” Clotille leaned back against the pillow. “I have to go home for a bit to straighten some things out with Armand and my mom. My mother’s been frantically trying to get ahold of me, but I told her I needed time to think. I don’t want her to know I’m thinking of going back to Lafayette. Not now, anyway.”
“We got some club business in Louisiana.” He raised his hand, silencing her. “I can’t tell you shit about it, so don’t ask. I’ll take you home. We can stay at Isa’s house until you decide to tell your family you’re back. I’ll be helping the club out and making my prez happy all at the same time.” He walked toward the bathroom and said over his shoulder, “And it’ll let me spend some more time fucking you. A good decision all around.” Then he closed the door.
The running water filled in the silence around her. I’m going back home, and Rock’s taking me. Fear and excitement battled within her, and she tried to suffocate the fear so she could relish the awesomeness of spending more time with Rock. Maybe everything will work out. I must get my cards read by Madame Vincennes when I get to Lafayette. It never hurts to know what’s coming in life, and when we get there, I can explain everything to Rock. Even if it means losing him forever, he has to hear me out. She stretched out her legs and snuggled up in the sheets that were still scented with Rock’s arousal and cologne. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Later that afternoon, Rock knocked on Hawk’s office. The VP was usually at home on Sundays with his old lady, but since all the shit started up with the Demon Riders and Gypsy Fiends, he’d been pulling in more hours than usual with club business.
Rock walked in and sat in the chair in front of Hawk’s desk. The vice president tilted his chin and stared at him. “Where’s your woman?”
“She’s in my room, and she’s not my woman. We’re just friends. We grew up in the same parish in Louisiana.”
“You could’ve fooled me. The way you were dancing last night came off as being more than friendly.” He grinned.
“We have a history, but that was a long time ago. I don’t want any woman. Anyway, she’s moving back home. I’m just going to help her, and that’s why I came in. I’m going to take about ten days off to take Clotille to Lafayette and visit with my people. While I’m there I can covertly look into what the fuck’s going on with the Gypsy Fiends and the Demon Riders.”
Hawk shook his head. “I don’t want you to do anything stupid ‘cause you’re gonna be out there all alone. Insurgents don’t have any major reinforcements in that part of the country.”
“The Devil’s Legions have a chapter in Lafayette, and I can see if they can steer me in the right direction. Bones has a few close friends in the MC, so he can give them the heads-up I’m coming and to play ball with me.”
“Okay, but take it real slow and smart. We don’t need any brothers vying for martyrdom. We need you alive. Got it? If things look bad, get the fuck outta there. I’m still working on seeing who’s backing these Gypsy fucks. Damn! We can’t let Dustin and Shack get a hold of those weapons. If that happens it’ll be war for sure.”
Rock nodded, then both he and Hawk sat silently as they contemplated the gravity of the situation.
In the outlaw world, declaring war was the same as nations declaring it on each other. The war was fought until one side or the other won, regardless of the casualties. Nothing less would do, and there weren’t any rules. What made these wars so dangerous and bloody was that the clubs had no fear of the consequences; jail, prison, or death meant nothing to them. The only thing that mattered was preserving the brotherhood and its colors. Outlaw one-percenters mostly kept the battle in the rival MC circle, and it rarely spilled out into the citizens’ world. But families, girlfriends, and sometimes parents and siblings were pulled into the violence and bloodshed. Many times support clubs to the main rival club would become involved and the confrontation could last years.
It’d been many years since the Insurgents found themselves on the bloody battlefields against a rival club. During the Biker Wars, the Insurgents had viciously defended their Colorado territory against the Deadly Demons. After years of car bombings, shootings, clubbings, and stabbings, the war-weary president of the Deadly Demons had called Banger to negotiate a truce. Both sides had realized the bloody corpses of their slain brothers had been enough. At the end of it, Colorado remained In
surgents territory and New Mexico belonged to the Deadly Demons.
Now, the Demon Riders wanted to take on the Insurgents because two of their members craved vengeance. The Insurgents would defend their brotherhood to the death, but they would prefer to avert a bloody confrontation with an out-of-control club. The Colorado brotherhood also had more to lose than they did back during the Biker Wars. Many of the brothers had old ladies and children, and the club had thriving businesses making their income mostly legitimate—a first in their history.
“When are you planning on leaving?” Hawk asked, breaking the silence.
“Tomorrow. Banger wanted Clotille out by then.”
“You want some of the brothers to go with you?” Concern creased the VP’s face.
Rock smiled. “Nah, but thanks. I got some personal shit I gotta look into.” The mojo bag and two notes he’d received flitted across his mind. “I may see my old man in the pen. He’s not doing so good.”
“I’m sorry for that.”
“Don’t be. He was a fuckin’ bastard my whole life. He’s in there for offing my ma.”
“I heard. Fuck, that must be hard, dude. You’re a better man than I am for going to see him when he’s sick. I don’t think I could do it.”
“Well, I told my sister I didn’t give a shit if he died a slow death, but something may have come up. I don’t know. I gotta look into it. That’s the only reason I’m going to see him. I wanna make sure the right man’s been paying for the crime. Fuck, I don’t know. It’s gotten complicated all of a sudden.” Rock stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll let you know if something comes up with the Gypsy Fiends.”
Hawk nodded. “Remember you’re not fuckin’ invincible. Later.” He held his fist in the air and Rock returned the gesture, then walked out.
After drinking a few shots of Jack and shooting the shit with some of his buddies, he headed upstairs to tell Clotille about the plans. When he arrived at his door he heard her talking. He slowly opened the door and looked in, spotting her as she sat on the bed, her back facing him. Her soft voice said, “You have to take him away. I know Frederick will hurt him. I’d die if anything happened to him.”
A pause, then, “I’ll definitely pay you double what I normally do. I’ll wire it. I’d like to leave tomorrow. I don’t know if I’ll be able to talk to you, but text me when he’s safe.” She grabbed the back of her neck. “I can’t fuck this one thing up. Rock’s taking me back so I’ll have limited time to talk to you. Texting is best.”
Another pause. She sighed. “I’ll wire the money now. Please make sure he’s safe. And I understand what you’re saying, but I can’t tell Rock just yet. The reason doesn’t matter. I thought I could, but I just can’t. I need a little more time with him.”
Rock felt a knot form in the bottom of his stomach. What the hell is she talking about? What can’t she tell me? And who is he? Is it Luc? His eyes narrowed. Fuck! Something isn’t right here. He ground his teeth as tightness crept into his expression. He thought they’d worked past all this, yet there she was still hiding things and trying to trick him. That’s why she wanted to fuck me last night. She probably has another man in Louisiana and needs me to help her escape from Frederick. She’s a vixen I can’t trust. Heaviness spread through him as images of the previous night and the morning assuaged him. Damn, she’s good. She almost had me convinced it was all real, that she wanted to try and make a go of it. Fuck her.
He banged the door open and smirked when she jumped from the bed and whirled around. With eyes wide, she laughed nervously. “You startled me.”
He glanced at the phone in her hand. “Don’t you think you should finish your conversation?”
She stiffened, then placed the phone to her ear and whispered, “I have to go. Text me.” She placed her phone on the mattress. “Did you play a round of pool?”
He shook his head. “Who were you talking to?”
For a split second panic crossed her face, but then she smiled. “A friend of mine from back home. I’m so excited to be going home that I called her up to share the news.”
“Who’s the he you were talking about?”
She hesitated for a moment, then quirked her lips. “I was talking about my brother.”
“Armand?”
“No. Stephan.”
Rock stared at her but she didn’t flinch. Stephan was her younger brother and an embarrassment to the Boucher family since he was born developmentally disabled. For years they acted as though they only had two children, except for Clotille. She’d always talk about her brother and share funny stories about him to Rock when they were growing up. He remembered the day she’d called him out of the blue when she was a sophomore in high school and he was a junior. They’d drifted apart at that juncture in their young lives, and, on that day, she’d been very upset. She’d asked if they could meet in the alcove in the park, their secret hiding place from the cruel adults in their lives when they’d been kids.
He’d met her and had been blown away at how pretty she’d looked in her short skirt and knit top, her hair shining in the sunlight. Then he’d noticed her eyes were red and puffy, her face swollen. It had been on that day that he’d fallen in love with her. She’d flung herself into his arms and cried for what seemed like hours. Her parents had taken Stephan away and put him in a place for “children like that.” She’d cursed her parents, especially her mother, who had been the instigator of ridding the household of Stephan, and lamented the emptiness in her heart since he’d gone away. She’d told Rock he was the only person who knew about her younger brother. Then, when the sun had begun to descend, she’d told him she had to go. As she ran from him, she’d stopped, turned around, and simply said, “I love you. I always will.” Then she was gone.
“Rock? What’s wrong?” Her voice heralded him back to the present.
“Nothing. I’d forgotten about Stephan. How’s he doing?”
“He’s happy. He’s still at the same place so that’s good. I had to sell all my jewelry to keep him there after my dad died and we had no money.”
“Fuck. Is your mom paying for him now?” Her jaw hardened and she shook her head. “Then Armand? Isa tells me he’s doing pretty good for himself.” Again she shook her head. “Then how’s he staying at that fancy place?”
She lowered her head. “Frederick. But then I suppose he’ll stop that if I don’t go back to him. So much that is good in my family is tied to him.”
“Don’t let all that sway you. You made the decision to leave him. You can’t give up your life for your family. We’ll figure it out.” He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. She shuddered beneath his touch. Hugging her, he stroked her hair. “We’re leaving tomorrow. Pack real light ‘cause we’re going by bike.”
“No heart attack-inducing mountain passes, right?”
He threw his head back and laughed. “No. I promise.” Then he kissed her deeply, the urge to keep her safe and happy overpowering the feeling that she still wasn’t telling him the whole truth. I should take her to Lafayette and walk away. But how the fuck can I? I’ve been addicted to her since I was a boy. And like an addict, my sweet craving is going to fuckin’ kill me.
“Rock? I have to send some money for… Stephan by wire. I’m sending it to my friend to pay the facility. Can you take me to the grocery store so I can send a MoneyGram?”
“Why don’t you send it directly to the place?”
“I don’t want Frederick tracing it back here.”
“Won’t he be able to trace it to your friend? You’re still leaving a paper trail.”
“Are you going to take me or not?” Irritation had crept into her voice.
“Yeah, sure. We can pick up some stuff for the trip. We’ll leave at nine in the morning.”
“Then we better get to the store so I can get everything arranged.”
He scanned her face. Although it didn’t reveal anything, he knew without a doubt she was bullshitting him big time.
; He grabbed the keys to his Harley. “Come on. Let’s go.”
She walked out and he followed her down the hall.
I wonder how this is going to play out.
I wonder if I’ll ever be able to get her out of my blood.
I wonder if I want to.
Chapter Fourteen
The small wooden house crouched in the shadows under the sprawling boughs of a large cypress tree. Inside the abode, there were four rooms and an enclosed back porch where Madame Germaine Vincennes kept various concoctions for spells and potions. Customers usually came over in the evenings, under cover of the darkened sky, to pick up a healing salve, a love potion, or a mojo bag to bring them whatever relief they desired.
For over forty years Madame had offered her services to help others. She believed God had given her the gift of healing and warding off evil spirits, as she’d had an uncanny sixth sense ever since she’d been a young child. She charged only what it cost her to make the candles, powders, mojo bags, and spells. It never occurred to her to make money from her gift; it was enough that she could help an unsettled person find comfort and meaning in his life.
The small house was where she’d raised her children, laid out her husband when he was killed in a mining accident, and gave tea leaf readings for the distraught. She was a great-great-grandmother and lived alone, fiercely proud of her independence.
On a side table, among the numerous pictures of her children, stood a framed black-and-white wedding photograph. The bride sat in a chair with a bouquet of roses resting in her lap, and the groom stood behind her looking so handsome in a black suit. Upon waking each day, Madame Vincennes took the portrait in her hands and held it to her heart as she wished her husband a good day. After a half hour of prayers and recollections, she’d place the wedding photograph back in its place, knowing that one day she and her husband would be reunited.
The perimeter of the largest room was chock-full of mason jars stuffed with various herbs, stones, animal bones, and powders. Small vials of oils filled several curio cabinets. The scene was repeated on the back porch.
