by Lena Bourne
I swallow against the knot I didn’t even know had formed in my throat.
“I hope I can repay your trust.”
“You’ll get us into the Snakeskins’ lair,” Cross says. “That will go a long way towards that. But as you said yourself, you might not survive.”
I shrug. “I never expected to. Not as long as I can remember.”
“But we’ll be watching you closely,” Cross says. “One wrong move and neither side of your dumb-ass feud will have anything left to worry about. Am I being clear?”
I swallow hard again and nod harder. “Crystal clear.”
“Now you stay put until someone comes to get you,” he says. “Most of the men still believe you had something to do with the bombs. It’s them you gotta convince, not just me. Some lost lifelong friends in those explosions. You think on that too.”
“And Colt? Is he alright?” I ask, but Cross just keeps on walking away. Colt was the one who actually met with those assholes from back home. If they suspect me, how hard do they suspect him?
“Come on, can I talk to him?” I ask again even though all three are ignoring me.
“Not yet, but he’s fine,” Hawk finally relents, eyeing me through the nearly closed door. “You didn’t do him any favors by leaving, that’s for sure. Think on that while you wait.”
What the fuck did I do? Hawk’s advice is solid. I really gotta learn to think first. But it might already be too late for that.
19
Blaze
The darkness swallowed me up after they locked me back into my stinking cell. I wouldn’t last long in solitary, that much is for sure. Memories started flooding my mind, vivid as watching a movie, and none of them were good. The day they brought my little brother’s body home to die in our mother’s arms was a stormy day, and I saw every last shade of dark blue in the vast sky clearer than I saw it on that day. Ma never spoke much after we buried him in the prettiest part of the decrepit yard. She followed him less than a year later.
Will they finally be avenged?
My older brother died on a windy day in the middle of winter. We never saw his body. No one ever found his bones.
Will he be avenged now?
Will my uncles?
Will it end?
Someone is keeping watch on the door of my cell. Every once in a while I can hear them shuffle their feet or clear their throat. It’s the only reminder that I’m still in this place and time and not stuck forever in an endless loop of reliving my worst memories.
When the door finally opens, I’m no longer so sure about that at all. No light comes into the cell.
“It’s me, Blaze,” Colt says. “Come on.”
I stand up slowly, not sure which world I’m in, but after I take a few steps towards him, that eerie feeling starts to fade.
“I shouldn’t have left,” I tell him.
“No talking now,” Scar says in a harsh whisper. “Just walk.”
I follow him along the central hallway through the barn.
“Fresh air at last,” Scar says, as soon as we’re outside. “Standing watch over you today was murder. If you get out of this, you owe me big time.”
The darkness is absolute, but a large, waning moon is already making its way up in the distance. Pretty soon it’ll illuminate all.
“Not here,” Hawk says, peeling out of the darkness at the side of the building. He comes to stand by my side, while Rook appears out of the darkness to stand by my other side.
I look at Colt to get some hint of an explanation as to why my escort is made up of only top execs and Scar, but he’s not meeting my eyes.
The courtyard they march me across is dark, but far from deserted. Men are huddled in groups around their bikes, black shadows against the night, only the orange glow of their cigarettes revealing them.
“Tempers are still high,” Hawk explains and leaves it at that.
Scar and Rook stay behind as we reach the front door of the three-story, steeple-roofed building that I assume was once this farmer's home. A faint yellow glow is fighting to reach through the decades of grime of one of the downstairs windows. Hawk tells Colt to take me inside, then strides back the way we came.
“What the hell is going on, Colt?” I ask as soon as we’re in the nearly dark hallway of the house. “Why are execs guarding me?”
He takes a flashlight from his jeans pocket and turns it on. The light spills across his face, revealing several black scabs on his face and a huge bruise over his eye that’s starting to fade.
“What happened to you?” I ask.
“Blood’s running high and not everyone is as willing to give you a second chance as Cross,” he says. “Or me for that matter. I fucking told you to come back. Though I guess the damage was done by then.”
I may have had all day to think about my mistakes, but the full weight of them is only now hitting me.
“You can’t think ahead worth shit, Blaze,” he says. “I blame the way you were brought up, but this ain’t funny anymore. You better make it up to Cross.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“He doesn’t really trust you, I don’t think, but he needs you,” Colt says. “Not everyone agrees with him this time. And those who don’t are more vocal about it than they’ve ever been. That’s why Scar’s been guarding you all day and why Rook was the one who put you in that cell. Cross has never been this close to having a mutiny on his hands, so you better do your best, Blaze, I mean it.”
His eyes are hard and sharp and I hardly see my best friend in them. But I hear him in what he’s telling me loud and clear.
“What the fuck’s taking so long?” our VP Tank yells from somewhere to our left.
“We’re coming!” Colt informs him and motions for me to start walking in the direction Tank’s voice came from.
“Don’t fuck this up, Blaze,” he hisses in my ear. “Or we’re both dead.”
How did so many people come to depend on me when all I wanted to do was go home to avenge my dead relatives or die trying? And die trying, more like. First Misti, now Colt, and quite possibly the rest of my family back home too.
I meant what I promised Colt. I will do the best I can. But the best I can do has never been good enough yet.
Colt leaving with his flashlight cast the interior of the house into murky darkness, but I can see the light under the door of the room where they’re waiting for me. The house smells of old dust and dampness, both familiar from my childhood. No one cleaned our house much, not after my grandma’s arthritis got too bad. The stench of farm animals hangs in the air here too, though that might be just stuck in my nose from the hours I spent in that cell.
“Why don’t you just punish him like he deserves? It’ll go a long way towards keeping the peace,” Tank says, stopping me dead before I push open the door and enter.
“Because he’s our best way in and I want to keep this job clean,” Cross answers.
“We’ve done this hundreds of times,” Tank protests. “We know how to keep it clean.”
“Killing everything that moves is not the legacy I want to leave my children,” Cross says.
“You say that, Cross, but can it be done?” Tank asks in a very exasperated voice. “We are what we are.”
“Yes, and that part of the MCs reputation dies with me.”
I knock before I hear any more of this conversation. It’s not for my ears and the last thing I need is to get even deeper into the hole I’ve already dug for myself. But Cross’s words explain a lot.
This is the reason he let the rest of the Roadside Sinners MC go, killing only the traitors. Only now that decision has come back to bite us and I’m starting to see a glimmer of the full scope of the problem he’s facing. I don’t want to know any more than that.
“Come in,” Cross barks and I open the door, the light inside hurting my eyes, but not quite blinding me.
“What do you need me to do, Prez?” I ask, hoping that’s the appropriate thing to say.
Tank
walks past me and shuts the door firmly then leans against it, glaring at me. He’s not a happy man right now. Tank is always ready with a sarcastic comment or a joke, but there’s no hint of anything of the sort on his face or eyes now. He and Cross go way back, just like me and Colt do, but it looks like maybe that lifelong friendship is being tested by all of this.
“The Snakeskins live in a large, walled-off area at the edge of the town of Two Forks, Nebraska, am I right?” Cross asks me.
I nod.
“Together with their extended families?”
“Yes, it’s been that way for generations,” I say. “My family lives in a similar compound on the other side of the town. We don’t go out much. Used to be children would go to school in town, but that’s no longer happening.”
“Since the death of your brother?” Cross asks.
I nod. They’ve done their homework, that’s for sure.
“Before that, children under the age of sixteen were considered untouchable by both sides,” I say, my voice very flat and toneless. “My brother was twelve when they got him and changed that rule.”
I don’t like thinking about this, much less talking about it. I checked out when my little brother died. And drew the line that led me to leaving it all behind. I couldn’t stomach killing children. Especially after seeing what the grief over losing him did to my mother.
“I want to avoid killing women and children,” Cross says. “So I need you to pull them out.”
“Their women will fight too,” I interject. “And some of the children.”
I feel sick saying this, but it’s the truth. None of them are afraid to die for revenge. None on my side are either.
He shakes his head. “Even so. I want the ones who carried out this attack to pay. And I don’t want them to ever even think of moving against us. But if I can prevent killing women and children, I will.”
Tank groans and Cross looks at him sharply, holding the gaze for a couple of seconds. Tank glares right back. Somehow, he’s never affected by even the blackest of Cross’ looks.
“I’ll do what I can,” I say, realizing I really like his plan. It could end the feud.
He fixes his piercing gaze on me. “You’ll do what I understand you’ve been planning to do anyway. Go home and look for revenge. Get them to attack you and yours. And we’ll be waiting to finish the job.”
“And the Sinners?” Tank asks.
Cross shoots him another sharp gaze. “We’ll deal with them after. From what Hawk tells me they’ve scattered for the most part anyway.”
He turns to me and points at the chair across from the rickety table in the center of the room. That and four chairs are the only pieces of furniture in this room. Judging by the hardened dust and dirt outlines on the walls, I’m guessing this used to be the kitchen.
I do as he tells me, and he lays out exactly what he wants me to do in short, crisp sentences. I don’t interrupt and speak only when he asks me a direct question. He was right. The things he wants me to do are pretty much what I would’ve done on my own. Only in his version of the plan, most of the Devils’ will be hiding behind the flimsy walls of my family’s compound waiting for the attack from the Snakes.
“Can I go see Misti before I leave?” I ask after he’s done explaining, earning a very confused look.
“His woman,” Tank explains helpfully.
Cross’s gaze is hard and piercing, but I’m seeing a little bit of sympathy in it too. Just a touch.
“You wanna drag her into this?” he asks.
“I want to say goodbye to her,” I counter.
“She can’t know anything about what we’re planning,” Cross says. “Beyond that, it’s your decision.”
“What? You’re gonna let him just go off on his own?” Tank says breathlessly. It sounds like he didn’t think before he spoke.
Cross looks at him angrily. “We’ll be very close behind. But the less suspicious he looks coming back, the better for us. They don’t know what we know and I want to keep it that way for as long as possible.”
“They know the guys they sent ain’t back yet,” Tank says. “They probably figured out why by now.”
“The Snakes aren’t too smart,” I volunteer, but judging by the black look Cross gives me, I should’ve kept my mouth shut.
“Do you have any more questions?” he asks me pointedly.
I shake my head. “No, all clear.”
“Good,” he says. “We’ll escort you out now, then you go do what you gotta do, but be ready to ride out by dawn. I want us to be inside the walls of your family’s home before tomorrow morning.”
I assure him it’ll happen that way, even though I’m far from sure it’ll go over smoothly. I told him I won’t be welcomed back with open arms and he told me to make it happen anyway.
But my father’s eyes were blacker than Cross’s when he told me never to return. And the anger riding them was deeper, colder, and deadlier. I have no idea how he’ll react to me coming home and even less how he’ll react to me bringing the Devils. He always wanted us to stand on our own. It’s a big part of the reason why we were getting so badly beaten in the feud. But I’m bringing the revenge he’s waited for his whole life. And that’s gotta count for something. I hope.
20
Misti
Pale silver moonlight is coloring the motel parking lot white now, but otherwise not much has changed since this morning. I’m sitting by the window again and Stormi is asleep in the bed behind me. I tried to sleep too, I really did, because by the time the sun set all my hope of ever seeing Blaze again went with it. But the bed smelled of him and I couldn’t bear it.
All day, Stormi alternated between commiserating with me and telling me I should cut my losses. Both pissed me off. In the end, we just stopped talking about it, because otherwise, we’d end up arguing. We’ve only had a handful of really heated arguments growing up, but the one that loomed all day would’ve been the worst one yet. I think we both realized that.
No, I am not thinking about Blaze like I do about my rescue cats.
No, I am not too ill to live my life the way I want to live it.
No, I am not just imagining being in love with Blaze. I’ve known him long enough to know how I feel.
Stormi didn’t come right out and say any of those things quite so plainly, but she sure implied them all strongly.
And I was angry right up until the point when I realized it probably doesn’t matter. He’s gone. Sunrise took him. Always a time of hope and joy for me, now of dread. Most likely tomorrow’s dawn will confirm what I already know.
I hear the thrumming of a bike approaching long before I realize that’s what it is. By the time he pulls into the parking lot, the chrome of his bike glowing silver in the moonlight and the sound shaking the very walls of this motel, I know it’s him. And that I’m just dreaming.
He smiles at me as he parks right in front of the window, and extends his hand for me to join him. Stormi is still sleeping soundly, which is a clear indication that this is just a dream. But what the heck? I don’t want to wake up.
So I grab my jacket and walk out of the room, closing the door behind me quietly. The thrumming of his bike is still echoing across the empty parking. I feel like I’m walking on moonlight as I approach him and take the hand he’s still extending towards me. It’s warm like always. I expected it to be as cool as the night.
“Are you really here?” I ask quietly, still afraid that any loud sound will destroy this vision and end this dream.
“Yes,” he says. “But I’m leaving soon. Couldn’t do it without saying goodbye to you though. I’m sorry about this morning.”
The longer he speaks the further away the dream flees. Yet it remains.
“What do you mean?” I ask. “I’m coming with you.”
“No, Misti,” he says.
“Yes, Blaze,” I say, anger rising in me and pushing the dream even further away. And yet it’s still here.
“Not this time,” h
e says. “But I’ll come back for you as soon as I can. If I can.”
I don’t say anything, just climb on the back of his bike and wrap my arms tightly around his waist, plastering myself against his back. “You’re not going anywhere without me.”
He sighs. “Come on, don’t do this.”
“All day, I thought you were dead. It was terrible. The worst day of my life,” I say. “You think I’m going to just let you leave again? To go die for real? No way. I love you. No matter what anyone says.”
I both feel and hear his sharp inhale at my words. But I’m beyond caring what anyone thinks of my feelings and whether they think they’re appropriate or not. My feelings are what they are, and they are real.
“I love you too, Misti,” he says, speaking barely above a whisper. “And that’s exactly why I can’t take you with me now. It’s too dangerous.”
“It was dangerous before,” I say, still holding him tight.
“But it’s even worse now,” he says.
“And my answer is still the same,” I mutter.
I feel him shake his head, feel his heart start racing even more than it already was, feel his breaths get shallower and faster.
“At least take me somewhere nice first,” I say.
He revs his bike and drives off without saying anything more. I hope he knows we’re not done talking about this. But for now, I need to get my fill of him to heal the wound that has been this long, horrible day. I think maybe he feels the same way.
We didn’t go far from the motel, just far enough to reach a bend in the road where trees and shrubs didn’t grow so close together and a gorgeous field, awash in the silver light of the moon stretched out before us.
We sat in the dry grass at the edge of the field and kissed for a long time. Soft and sweet at first, harder and hungrier as our heart rates increased and desire and lust took over. I felt faint from a day and a night spent awake and sad, but after those kisses all that was gone the way it never was gone for me before.
I reached for his belt buckle several times, but each time he brushed my hand away gently and kissed me deeper. Now, as I try again, I’m not ready to take no for an answer so easily.
