BONES: GODS OF CHAOS MC

by Honey Palomino

  “Tell me what you know,” I said.

  “Got a call about a dead body on the side of the road,” the young man shrugged. “When we arrived, there was an elderly couple there with her. Said they were out on a Sunday drive in the country when they saw her. They thought she was dead, but she had a faint pulse when we arrived.”

  “Any identification?”

  “Nothing, no purse or anything we could see right away. The police are searching the area now. The elderly couple insisted on following us in. They’re sitting over there by the window.”

  They pointed at a couple by the window, the woman twisting a white scarf in her hands while the man tenderly rubbed her back.

  “Thank you, gentleman,” I said. “You can go now.”

  I walked over to the couple by the window and introduced myself.

  “Hello, I’m Dr. Jason Boone,” I said. “You followed the young lady in the ambulance?”

  “Yes,” the woman stand, standing up slowly, her eyes filled with worry. “We were out driving on Sauvie Island, going to pick some blackberries. At first, I thought someone had left a pile of clothes in the brush, but I made Wayne stop once I saw that bright red hair.”

  “You did the right thing, ma’am,” I said.

  “I really thought she was dead,” the woman said. “That’s what I told the operator. But the paramedics said she had a pulse. How could someone just leave her on the side of the road like that?”

  The woman burst out crying and her husband pulled her in close.

  “Come on, Sally, it’s okay,” he said. “You saved her life.”

  “You did,” I nodded.

  “Is she going to be okay?” she asked. “What about the baby?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but she definitely would have died if you didn’t get her help. Why don’t you two go on home? Leave your number at the front desk and I’ll call you later and let you know how she’s doing.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” she said, before reaching out and placing something in my hands.

  “What’s this?” I asked, lifting up a tiny keychain with a scratched up plastic slipper on it.

  “We found this lying next to her,” the woman said. “I don’t know if it’s hers, but if it is, she might want it back.”

  “Okay, I’ll make sure she gets it,” I said, slipping it into my pocket. “Thank you, again.”

  I walked back past the front desk and into the back, just as Jenn was rushing towards me.

  “The baby’s in distress, Doctor. We need to take it right away,” she said.

  “Dammit! Okay, prep her for surgery and tell everyone else to get ready, stat,” I said, my heart speeding up.

  “Already done,” she said. “The full team is getting into place.”

  “Good work,” I said. “Let’s hope we can save them.”

  “It doesn’t look good, Dr. Boone.”

  “This is one time I hope you’re wrong, Jenn,” I said, running down the hallway beside her.

  Daisy

  “I think she’s waking up, Doctor,” a woman’s voice murmured, far away, as far away as the foggy light that was now crashing through the darkness, ripping away my peace.

  I’d found it.

  Peace.

  Sweet nothingness.

  Emptiness.

  A void in the dark that existed and ceased to exist, all at once.

  Allowing me to do the same.

  I was gone.

  Lost, but not from myself — from the light and the blinding pain that accompanied it.

  I’d touched death, my fingers caressing it like a whisper as it reached for my hand to lift me up to freedom. I could still feel its velvety touch, like the promise of a ghost in a dream that never appeared.

  I was so close to death that I yearned for it to pull me in.

  Instead, the light came closer, and I slipped away.

  Back to this light, this life, this reality that was way too hard to bear sometimes.

  I heard the woman’s voice come closer.

  “She’s stirring,” she said. I don’t know how she knew I was alive, I barely knew it myself, and I was fighting it harder than I’d ever fought anything before.

  I kept my eyes clenched tightly, resisting my return like a baby refusing to exit the womb.

  My eyes flew open as I remembered — my baby.

  Like a rocket exploded in my brain, I jerked wide awake, my hands flying to my stomach. A low moan escaped my lips, my heart skipping a beat as I panicked at the flatness I felt there.

  Warm hands caressed my arm, pushing me back against the pillows.

  “Shhh,” the man’s voice said. I scanned his face, not truly seeing it, barely hearing him. “Your boy’s okay. He’s doing just fine.”

  He? My boy?

  I stared back at him, my heart ripped open as I tried to sit up. The pain jolted me back into my body and I screamed in excruciating agony.

  “You’ve got to stay still,” he said. “I had to take him. A cesarean. It’s going to take some time to recover. You’ll be in quite a bit of pain for a few weeks.”

  “Where is he?” I cried, searching the man’s eyes. “Who are you?”

  “Shhh,” he said, rubbing my arm gently, his brown eyes gentle and soft. “You’re both safe at the hospital. I’m Dr. Jason Boone and my nurses are with your son. They’re the best nurses in the state and they’re taking excellent care of him. They’ll bring him in soon, I promise. For now, you need to rest. You’ve suffered a lot of injuries. I want you to just sleep, as much as possible, okay?”

  I nodded, settling back into the pillows, my body screaming in blinding pain.

  “It’s hurts,” I croaked, my voice cracking. I was so vulnerable, so helpless, and I felt a familiar bubble of anger rising in the back of my throat. I felt like a wild animal, trapped.

  “Now that you’re awake and talking, we’ll increase the morphine,” he said, nodding over at the nurse. “The police are going to want to talk to you soon, but I’ll hold them off as long as I can, alright?”

  I nodded, and he handed me a small glass of water. I drank it, the coldness spreading through my chest, burning like wildfire.

  His eyes were kind. Brown, with little golden flecks that sparkled under the fluorescent lights above. He had long, lush, black lashes that any woman would be envious of. He touched my arm again, so gently I could barely feel his touch, staring down at me with the same gentleness in those brown eyes.

  “I’m going to take good care of you,” he said. “What’s your name?”

  “My name?”

  “Yes. The police didn’t find any identification on you.”

  I nodded, staring up at him, wondering what he knew about me.

  If he knew where I came from.

  If he knew who I was.

  “Just a first name,” he said. “That’s all I need right now. Just so I know what to call you.”

  “Daisy,” I whispered. “I’m Daisy.”

  “Daisy,” he whispered, smiling. “That’s nice. You can call me Jason. I’m not much for formalities.”

  “Jason, got it,” I nodded, searching his eyes, anxiety and pain ripping through me. “When can I see my son?”

  “I’ll see if I can make that happen real fast,” he winked. “Hold tight, okay, Daisy?”

  I nodded, watching as he walked out, his tall figure framed by thick, wide shoulders. The door closed behind him, and I looked down at my body. I’d always felt so disconnected from it, and now the excruciating pain was sending me right back into it, just like the light that had ripped me from death’s sweet caress, discarding me right back into this suit of flesh that had doomed me from the very beginning.

  I may not know how I was going to do it, but I had no choice but to stay in it now. Leaving wasn’t an option anymore.

  I was a mother now.

  I had a purpose.

  A reason to live.

  A boy.

  A little baby boy. All my own.

  Su
ddenly, my lust for the promised escape of death had lost its power.

  A boy.

  My boy.

  I took a deep breath, breathing into the pain, letting it wash over me, letting it seep into me and become me.

  I could take it. However much the universe felt I was due, I knew I could take it.

  Death’s grip was broken and I was alive for a reason.

  The door opened and Jason appeared again, his arms full of a tightly wrapped, wiggling bundle of life.

  When he placed him in my arms, the pain disappeared.

  “He’s beautiful,” I whispered.

  It was all life now, it was all light.

  He stared up at me, his tiny eyes reflecting the wonder in my own.

  Life.

  Light.

  Love.

  I had everything I ever needed in my arms.

  I didn’t feel the heat of the tears pouring from my eyes. I didn’t feel the pounding of my heart. I didn’t see the gentle kindness in the stranger’s eyes next to me, either.

  I only saw my son and the pain of the past cracking and dissolving around me.

  Everything that came before this moment was insignificant. Everything I’d dealt with, all the misery I’d lived through, I’d done it all to get here and I knew now, that if I had to, I’d do it all again.

  Strength pumped through my veins like steel, instilling a sudden knowledge that no storm would be too brutal to weather again. Never again would I caress the hand of death so lovingly. I turned my face away from the promise of never-ending darkness and embraced the light.

  I embraced my son.

  I embraced our future.

  I embraced love.

  Because now, after all this time, I finally knew what love was.

  Bones

  Once a brother, always a brother…

  Once a God, always a God…

  It was time to say goodbye.

  “Serving this club has been the greatest honor of my life.” Zander, the Vice President of the Gods of Chaos Motorcycle Club, stood at the head of the table, his eyes stinging with tears. He didn’t need to hold them back.

  We’re all brothers.

  A few tears between us meant nothing. Each of us would have died to protect any one of the others. A few had done just that.

  Those of us left standing were standing strong.

  Ryder, the President, whose position he’d inherited from his father, stared up at Zander with pride filling his somber eyes. He and Zander had been through hell and back together, and it showed.

  Riot, Slade, Wreck, and my lumbering frame, filled the other chairs, the whole lot of us endlessly loyal and devoted to Ryder.

  The Gods are a small club, as clubs go.

  But its a club nothing like other outlaw clubs.

  The God’s held their character and reputation in high regard, doing work that other clubs would never bother to dirty their hands with.

  The dirt the Gods handled was the kind that didn’t wash off. It was the kind that woke them up at night, full of sad, haunted eyes and memories that lingered way past their welcome.

  Fortunately, they were the kind of men who never gave up, and for the people they’d rescued over the years, that was the most important virtue of all.

  If Ryder had given up, he’d never have fallen in love with Grace.

  If Riot had given up, he wouldn’t have Lacey waiting for him in the next room.

  If Slade had given up, he wouldn’t be happy as a fly in horse shit and itching to get back home to his wife and son in Portland.

  If I’d given up, and Lord knows there were times I wanted to, I wouldn’t be a doctor now.

  And, if Grace had given up, the lives of all of these men would have taken dramatically different turns. Grace wouldn’t have survived to create the priceless collaboration that provided each of them with a real purpose in life.

  Solid Ground was still going strong, the organization headquartered from Grace and Ryder’s compound, which included the clubhouse we were in now. They’d installed gates at the entrance to the long driveway, keeping out any stray cars that might wander down to the compound. Just in case, there were cameras now, too, beaming the images back to Riot’s new state-of-the-art office.

  With the kind of work they did, you could never be too safe.

  Danger was just another part of the business and we’d each seen our fair share of it and no doubt we’d see it again.

  Despite all that, here we all were.

  Still together.

  Still going strong.

  Unfortunately, we were all saying goodbye to a man we’d each grown to love and admire greatly. Zander had announced his decision to retire and the time had come to announce the appointment of the new Vice President.

  Ryder stood up, embracing Zander. The two men held each other tightly, years of memories flooding over them. When they parted, the love they held for each other shined in their eyes, putting a lump in my throat.

  Zander nodded firmly, then stepped back, as Ryder pulled the VP patch from the pocket of his cut.

  “Zander’s been the best right hand I ever could have asked for,” he said, his voice a low, emotional growl. “His boots will be damned near impossible to fill. That being said, if I have to pick someone else to run this club with me, I choose Riot.”

  Riot’s face broke out into a huge smile.

  We all started hootin’ and clappin’ and stompin’ as Riot stood up and faced Ryder. Riot’s smile faded as the two men stared into each other’s eyes.

  “I promise to do you proud,” Riot said. “Thank you, brother.”

  “I’m already proud of you,” Ryder said, placing the Vice President patch on his cut, before pulling him in for a hefty hug.

  Cheers erupted around the table. Slade began banging on the table, the loudest and proudest of all of us to see his best friend getting patched in as VP of the club they both held so dear. They’d grown up together and Slade had already told me he was amazed at how far they’d come together.

  “Settle down, settle down,” Ryder said, pulling out a box from under the table. “I have one more thing I want to do today.”

  We quietened down immediately, lest we piss off Ryder. Ryder was like a quiet storm, lingering in the corner, ready to take your ass down at any time. None of us wanted to be in the path of that storm.

  “We all love Jason,” Ryder said, looking over at me. “You’ve been hanging around for a while now, and I’m proud to call you brother.”

  “Thank you, Ryder,” I said, my voice husky with emotion.

  “Your father would be proud of all you’ve accomplished.”

  I fought back tears as he brought up my old man. I missed him more than I ever knew I could miss anyone. “I can say now that insisting you finish medical school instead of becoming a God after Doc’s death was the best thing I ever did. I’m proud of you, too.”

  “Thank you, brother,” I said, blinking away the tears.

  “With Zander leaving,” Ryder continued. “It leaves us one man short. I’d like to invite you to prospect with the club, Jason. I think it’s time.”

  He pulled open the box and pulled out what was once my old man’s worn out cut. Emblazoned with the club’s patches on the back and the front altered with the word ‘Prospect’ just above the pocket.

  Smiles spread across the table like wildfire, the biggest of all spread across my ugly mug.

  “Ryder, I wasn’t expecting this,” I said, my eyes wide as I gazed up at him as he handed me the old worn leather.

  “I know,” he said. “But it’s only right. I told you I’d consider it after you finished your education. I know you’re busy at the hospital, but we’d still like you to join us in whatever capacity you have time for. You’re family. Just like Doc was. Everyone has to prospect first, but in about a year’s time, you should be patched in fully.”

  “Ryder, brother, I don’t know what to say,” I said, standing up and walking over to him. Ryder slipped
the cut over my shoulders and my heart pounded in my chest. I’d dreamed of this moment since I was a teenager, watching with envy as my old man enjoyed the camaraderie and brotherhood of the Gods. I’d given up on becoming an official God long ago, content to just be a part of the extended family.

  But this? It just seemed right.

  It was like finally coming home.

  “Say yes, Bones!” Slade shouted, using his favorite nickname for me.

  The Gods broke out in laughter and I nodded, looking around at my smiling brothers.

  “Hell, yeah, man!” I shouted, joy bounding from my chest.

  Suddenly, they were gathered around me, patting me on my back roughly and pulling me in for even rougher hugs. My eyes filled with tears as I thought of my old man. I’d grown up wanting to be just like him, knowing I’d never be able to fill the rugged boots he wore.

  I’d given up on ever wearing leathers, instead pursuing medicine, hoping to make him proud in a white coat instead.

  “Life comes full circle, Bones,” Ryder said.

  “Welcome to the Gods of Chaos!” Riot shouted.

  I shook my head in disbelief, proudly displaying my cut like a damned peacock.

  “Time to celebrate!” Slade cried out, already half out the door with a bottle of Jack in his hand.

  Before long, we gathered around a raging bonfire, the stars shining down on us all. The ladies of Solid Ground joined us — Cherry, Grace, Lacey and Frankie — the beauty glowing from each of them brighter than the stars above us.

  Oliver and Olivia, the two bonded owls that had adopted our family long before I arrived, sat watching us celebrate with wide, wise eyes from a nearby tree.

  I looked around at the gang of them, my heart swelling with pride. I took a deep smokey breath, relishing the heaviness of the cut on my shoulders as a huge smile spread across my face.

  This was what life was about.

  This was family.

  This was love.

  Daisy