Thrash

by Jc Emery

  “He’s going to hurt her,” I say, choosing to omit the fact that he’s already hurt her. Ruby nods and stands from her place at the table. I stand up and look down at her.

  “He’s going to break her heart and she’s going to break his. Nothing worth having ever comes without a price,” she says and walks back to the counter to prepare her chicken.

  “Next time, why don’t you just say you think it’s gonna work out?” I ask. She looks over her shoulder, her lips twisting up at the corners.

  “Because you needed to know that it’s going to work out for you, too. Nic’s running scared, but one day you’ll tire her out and she’ll stop running.”

  I stare at her incredulously and throw my hands in the air. “I don’t even know how you know this shit.”

  She turns around and gives me a soft smile and says, “If you’d been listening, you wouldn’t have to ask me that. The message, Joshua, is that even though Nic doesn’t know it right now, she needs you. I see so much of myself in that girl. She’s headstrong to a fault and prideful as all hell. Whatever’s going on between you two that’s got you sportin’ that sour puss will pass, and you’ll see to it because you need her, too. Same way Ryan needs Alex, and I need Jim.”

  “No really, how high are you?” I ask. She smiles wide and shrugs.

  “You’re the one who came to me looking for relationship advice,” she says. Damned if I can argue with her.

  I’m trying like hell to make it work with Nic, but she’s not going easy on me. The night after we had our slow fuck, I got a call that Mancuso’s boys were on their way. That was when Ruby had been forced to tell Alex the truth, and shit’s been upside down ever since. I’ve barely had five minutes alone with Nic in the past week, and it’s pissing me off. The only time I see her is when I crawl into bed beside her and the few times we’ve fucked since last week. Otherwise, she’s fucking ignoring me, and just lying beside her isn’t enough. I tried to get her to come to the house so I’d know where she was, but she isn’t answering my calls or returning any of the text messages or voice mail messages I’ve left for her. Two days ago, her voice mail box filled up, and I’ve been reduced to calling and texting her, not that she’s responding, and yesterday I had to have one of the prospects hunt her brother down to get his number so I can at least find out what she’s doing through him. Ever since our little tiff a couple of weeks ago, he’s been a compliant soul. I haven’t been around, but according to Fish, who’s been keeping an eye on the shop and clubhouse, Jeremy’s been doing good at his assigned task. As much as I wanted to pound his face into the pavement, I decided the best way to teach him to be a man is to put him to work like a man. He’s spent every day taking orders from Fish and cleaning up the shop like I told him to. Once this shit with Princess settles, I’m going to have him help me fix Nic’s car up.

  The sun isn’t really shining outside as much as it is just slightly overcast and streaming in a few spots from breaks in the clouds overhead. Fucking Mendocino summer. It’s never really all that hot here, but a day like today I wish it were. I’m sick of standing in cool winds and light rains in fucking July of all times. I pull my sun glasses on because I’m bound and fucking determined to find a sunny spot to stand in, and walk out the back to my post. It’s about time I relieve Bear anyway. By the back shed of the house, Bear stands with his semi-automatic assault rifle. He paces down the property line about a hundred yards then back toward the house. He catches sight of me before I get too close, and thank the fuck for it, too. He’s more of a shoot first and ask questions later kind of guy.

  “Go blow a load, I got this,” I say to Bear. He nods, grabs his dick, and sticks his tongue out.

  “No matter how many times you ask, I am not going to suck your dick. So save yourself the trouble and just stop asking. You’re embarrassing yourself!” I shout as he disappears around the shed. I lift the strap to my own semi-automatic rifle over my head and make sure it’s positioned correctly. With one hand under the long barrel and the other near the trigger, I survey the landscape. The neighbors on this side of the property live at the bottom of a sloping hill and are a good quarter of a mile away, so even if they look up they’re unlikely to see the firepower. Nothing much is going on over there. A few lights are on inside the house, and two cars are parked out front. Nobody’s outside from what I can tell, so I move on. Walking the same path that Bear just did, I focus on the task at hand and try to move past all that shit Ruby said. I’m pretty sure she was half drunk when she was talking about Trigger. That bastard was never cute.

  “Grip it tighter. Act like it’s my dick,” Trigger says. I pause for a moment and abandon my post to see what’s going on. With any luck, he’ll be talking to Diesel or Chief and not Princess. Crossing the field, glancing back at the property line every few feet, I reach a line of redwood trees and stop, turn around, and check one more time before continuing on toward Trigger’s voice. Now, on the other side of the trees, I can see Trigger as he stands behind Princess. His arms are lifted in front of him, and he’s got Princess doing the same. She’s got a gun in her hands and his cover hers.

  He’s teaching her to shoot. Trigger doesn’t teach anyone anything. He won’t even teach a bitch to suck his dick the way he likes it. If she doesn’t get it right on her own, he doesn’t give her another chance. He’s a picky fucker, and, yet, still a total slut.

  “Stop being crude,” Princess says and looks back at him. He cranes his neck down to look at her and gives her a peck on her forehead.

  “Do you even know who you’re talking to?” he says and slowly drags his hands up her arms and places them on her hips. “This is important. Quit fucking around. Now, fire.”

  She pulls the trigger, and a blank fires out at the barn in front of them. She jumps and nearly drops the gun. Trigger grabs it as she spins around and buries her face in his chest. The hand with the gun rests on her hips, and the other he uses to rub her back in a jerky motion. He’s being comforting and kind, but, from the looks of it, it’s killing him slowly to be this patient. The dude’s never been very good with being nice to people when his patience has run out. He leans down and kisses her on top of her head then pulls back.

  “Again,” he says. She starts to whine, but he shakes his head. “Shut up and shoot.”

  Deciding I’ve seen enough, I turn and walk back to my place at the fence. Maybe in some fucked up way, Ruby’s right. Maybe Trigger needs this. The guy I just saw isn’t the guy I know. The guys I know is a real prick. He doesn’t give hugs and kiss foreheads, and he doesn’t teach a chick to do anything. But he’s clearly trying even if it is making him nuts and about to lose his temper—because it doesn’t take much. Everything Ruby said rambles around in my head. She made Jim suffer for months before she finally hooked up with him, and when she finally gave in, she demanded something from him. She needed him to protect her kids, and he gave her that. He needed a mother for his son, and she gave him that, though a lot of good that did—the boy’s still fucked up. They each had something the other needed, and they work. They’ve been working for years now. It’s a sight to see. The way Ruby and Jim move around one another, it’s like they synchronize it. It doesn’t matter what the other is doing, they just kind of circle each other. As much as Ruby loves him, there’s no way he doesn’t love her more. The way he came to the club those months ago, asking us to help him fulfill a promise he had no right to make back before he was even president. That’s love.

  And fuck if I don’t want that shit for myself.

  I pull my cell out of my pocket, find Jeremy in my contacts, and hit the call button. It rings four times before voice mail picks up. “You got Jeremy,” the message says, and then it beeps.

  “Have your sister call me back or I’m going to assume you didn’t give her the message,” I say and then hit the end button and shove the phone back into my pocket. Walking the line, I wait another fifteen minutes or so. My brain can’t let go of everything that’s going on, and if I don’t fig
ure out how to stop it, I’m pretty fucking sure I’m going to go insane. This much thought can’t be that fucking healthy, but it’s like I’m on a goddamn rodent wheel and can’t get off. If I’m being honest with myself, which I hate to be, I’m just fucking tired of all the faceless bitches and the getting to know you phase and then the breaking up phase, and then that awkward phase at the end where she doesn’t get it. It’s insufferable.

  I’ve known Nic a damn long time, and even when she ignores me—as she does so often—I’ve always known it was her. And she’s always been hot and mouthy, and even though she acts like she wants nothing to do with me most of the time, I’ve never forgotten the girl who used to always talk about traveling all over the country on the back of a Harley. Thinking about her is making me crazy to a point that’s got to be unhealthy.

  Eventually, I give in and try Nic again, but she doesn’t answer, so I try Jeremy again. He doesn’t answer either, so the second message I leave on his voice mail isn’t quite as friendly. I threaten to hunt his ass down and beat the shit out of him until he has to piss in a bag for the next month. I can’t leave, but he doesn’t know that. It’s a few minutes later when he calls me back and apologizes profusely before telling me what I really don’t want to fucking hear, but have to anyway.

  “She said she’s not going to call you back and that you can talk to her at 3am when you crawl in bed like you normally do,” he says. His voice trails up at the end like he’s expecting me to flip out. He’s not far off base.

  “Fuck,” I say.

  “Sorry, dude. She’s been in a foul-ass mood lately,” he grumbles.

  “What did you just call me?”

  “Sir,” he stutters. “Sorry, Sir.” I bite back the laugh that’s rumbling in my chest. He doesn’t know it yet, but I’m treating him like a prospect. Nic would flip her shit if she knew, but when I sent word via a hang-around to Butch about making Nic my Old Lady, I also made mention of having Jeremy prospect for us. I should hear back about that any day. Being around the club could be good for the kid, and from what she’s told me about his grades and all, it’s not like he’s got an Ivy League future.

  “You making her week worse?” I ask him.

  “No Sir,” he says. “I’ve been to class every day on time and I haven’t given her attitude even though she’s given it to me.”

  “Good. If I hear otherwise, it won’t be pretty,” I say.

  “I understand, Sir,” he says. I hang up and continue to keep an eye on everything. The sun started setting a while ago, and now it’s moving into total darkness. We’re keeping the flood lights off so they aren’t triggered by movement. Minutes pass and my cell rings. Pulling it out of my pocket, I let a smile cover my entire face at the name on the screen: NIC.

  A loud bang sounds from the back of the property. Instinctively, I shove the ringing phone back in my pocket, right my semi-automatic rifle, and follow the sound. There’s at least five wild shots fired from the back tree line. I pick up the pace, scanning the neighboring property and the tree line to my left, but there’s nothing out there that I can see. My heart jumps in my chest. After all this waiting, shit’s finally going down.

  Someone flips the flood lights on, and the entire field is illuminated. I blink at the sudden intrusion on my corneas then resume my position and pick up the pace now that I can see everything clearly. My brothers are already at the tree line checking it out. Grady, Bear, and Diesel come out with their hands in the air, shaking their heads. To my left, I spot Trigger, who freezes in place, curses, and then runs back to the house at full speed. I follow behind him, darting around trees and hopping over fallen branches and logs that are strewn about the field. PJ appears behind Trigger and runs beside him. I trail behind the two, not even trying to get in either of their way. They’re both so attached to Princess, I’d probably be missing an arm if I tried it. I force myself not to even think about anything else that could be going on. My heart sounds like it’s running a marathon in my chest, and my eyes are wide and alert. I have my rifle at the ready.

  Running into the house behind Ryan and PJ, everything turns into fucking chaos. Princess is gone. My temper flares, and my muscles tense at the sight before me. Princess’s room is a goddamn disaster. She barely got it decorated, and now it’s all fucked up. From outside, men are screaming and shouting at one another. I can hear Trigger from the front yard, through the open sliding glass door. He’s barking orders at anyone who will listen. Ruby stumbles into the room with a bloody hand on her head and a clean one over her mouth. She shakes her head as tears pool in her eyes.

  “They took her,” she wails loudly. My heart breaks for her. She barely got Princess a few months ago and now this shit happens. I usher her over and check out her wounds. She’s got a bump on her head and a cut at her hairline, but that’s it. Collapsing against my chest, Ruby screams so loud I worry my eardrums might not recover. A painful sob and then a violent scream. She pulls at my leather cut and sinks to the floor. I crouch down beside her, not letting go as she loses her shit.

  PJ whimpers from the other side of the bed and then barks loudly. Her butt’s up in the air, and she continues to whimper. Ruby wipes her nose and crawls the three feet to the corner of the bed and peers around and screams. She scampers around the corner while she wails. Jumping up on the bed and out of the way, PJ lies down and whimpers with all of her attention focused on Ruby. I stand up and look over the side. Ruby’s scooped up a bloody Tegan in her arms and has her once clean hand, which is now covered in dripping blood, over Tegan’s neck. “No!” Ruby cries and screams the word again and again until all that’s left are tiny little whispers of disbelief and pain. I grab one of Princess’s throw blankets and hand it to Ruby. We create a makeshift bandage to try to stop the bleeding.

  “Stay here and keep pressure on that. I’ll get the vet over here ASAP,” I say and walk to the sliding glass door. “And we’re going to find Princess, I promise.” I rush out of the sliding glass door and down the deck to where Grady’s bent over in the grass. He shakes his head back and forth.

  “This is wrong,” he grinds out. “So fucking wrong.” I get closer and find Chief lying in the grass. His body is limp, and his chest isn’t moving. Grady stands and wipes his eyes. Chief’s dead.

  “This ain’t fucking right,” he says while he makes a circle and raises his hands in the air. “Chief’s dead. Are you fucking happy now?” he screams as he charges at Trigger. I take a look at Trigger, whose eyes are red and glassy. He sucks up the tears that are threatening to fall. He just stands there as Grady makes impact and slams him into the grass. Laying his arms out at his sides, Triggers takes hit after hit that Grady offers. Jim doesn’t let it get too far before he and Wyatt pull Grady and Trigger apart. I stand motionless on the side as I watch my club fall apart, and each of my brothers come to terms with their individual losses. After I’ve taken my moment to be selfish, I walk over to Trigger and lift him off the ground. Grady mainly went for his gut and didn’t do much damage to his face.

  “Come on, we have to find Princess,” I say and lead Trigger back into the house as our brothers follow.

  Chapter 17

  ”Warehouse on Fifth,” I say and hang up the phone with the deputy chief. My brothers and I are crowded around the table in the chapel with maps and ammo laid out in front of us. I look around the table to find them nodding, with the exception of Ryan. He’s scowling at the map with his gun in his hand. He’s been making us all a little more than nervous the last several hours, but nobody has big enough balls to tell him so. Ruby tried to talk to him, but all he did was stalk past her and bark at her not to fucking talk to him. Ever since, we’ve just let him be. Even Grady’s noticed how he’s taking the situation, but I don’t know that it’s going to change his mind about anything. That is, if and when we find Princess. And here’s hoping we find her alive and unharmed.

  I load up my body with as much firepower as I can. I got a gun in each ankle strap and a knife in my right in
addition to the knife on the left of my waist. Two extra rounds of ammo in my pockets and a gun in its shoulder holster as well as one in the back of my jeans and the rifle over my shoulder. Five guns and two knives in total and enough ammunition to take down half an army. My brothers are all locked and loaded with as much firepower as I have, if not more, as they file out of the chapel. I let everybody else go in front of me, and, as I walk out last, I take one final look at the chapel with the realization that if shit gets too violent, I might not see it again.

  It’s days like today, when shit goes south and everybody’s falling apart on the inside and the club’s battered on the outside, that I hate this life. I sometimes wonder what could have become of me had I been a garbage man or maybe a cop. Cops aren’t any less dirty than we are. The only real difference is that we get to play by our own rules, and I like that a fuck of a lot more than the shit they have to go by. But maybe if I was a garbage man I wouldn’t have had to see my mentor dead in the grass, and I wouldn’t be walking into what could very likely be a trap in order to save a girl who never asked for us to do any of this shit on her behalf, but deserves it all the same. And I know where my head should be, but all I can think about is Nic and if she’s safe. All I can do is battle with the urge to ride to her house and make sure everything’s okay. That’s not where my priority needs to be right now, and I can’t do that to Princess. We got a tip that there’s a few black sedans outside of a warehouse on Fifth Street. It’s our best lead so far and, it’s been hours. If she’s not there, we might be fucked. This isn’t our first rescue mission, but it is the most personal. I just hope that Wyatt took me seriously when I told him that if I don’t make it back, he needs to make sure that Nic is taken care of.

  We load up in three SUVs and take off downtown. The bikes are too loud, and even though we’re all suited up with bullet-proof vests and we’d have our helmets on, there’s too much exposure to the neck and legs when riding, and this is a mission we can’t take a single chance fucking up. The trip downtown is shorter than it’s ever been before. Jim drives the SUV I’m in with Ian in the passenger seat and Trigger next to me. It isn’t until we’re close to the warehouse that we creep up and cut the lights. Once we’re in the far end of the parking lot and all three SUVs have arrived, my brothers scatter about to cover the area. We discussed all this shit before I got the call from the deputy chief with this tip. Everybody knows where they’re supposed to be.