by Nicole Snow
“Ma!” I stamped my boot, sloshing coffee onto the floor. No woman survived life in this club without sass, but she brought it by the ton. “You're getting carried away.”
I'd never seen her so happy since...shit, probably not since my old man died. Red faced, laughing, covering her old grey eyes, I left her to the moment while I mopped the floor with a paper towel.
“If you're done cackling, we've got to get our butts in gear and go. Preacher man's pretty damned punctual about when he starts these things.”
“Sure, Dusty.” She was still dabbing at her eyes when I came up, tossed the paper towel away, and quickly chugged the rest of my coffee. “Bet he's getting tired of doing so many weddings so close together. What's his story anyway?”
I thought about the turtle faced hell raiser we all called preacher man, who'd given the club its moral support for several years now. “Old friend of the club's. You know how it goes. He thinks we're guardian angels or something. Like we need a man of God keeping us on track, fulfilling our destiny, or some shit.”
Ma nodded, thinking it over.
Truth was, preacher man prattled on about that crap plenty of times, but he had a better reason to help the club when duty called.
Early bailed his ass out back in the day, not long before he bit the bullet. The quiet, small town preacher went through a bad spell. Got himself mixed up in dope and crystal, and unknowingly opened the door for the bastards selling it to use his church basement for storage and production.
Didn't last long. My old man killed every last one of those fuckers muscling in on his turf, burned the filth below his Sunday flock, and chained up preacher man 'til he stopped sweating like a pig and crying for his mama. I stood guard that night, when the junk he'd gotten hooked on was leaving his system, listening to him pray to the almighty like he never had in his life.
He cried like a baby when he realized what he'd done. Asked the Lord to take him then because he could've gotten people killed.
I stepped up and put my boot on his foot 'til he cried harder. Told him to shut up, turn himself around, and make amends for his God and for himself. I helped him up when he'd had his fill of pain, let him bawl in my arms like a little boy who'd gotten himself into something far too serious for his years.
Preacher man swore he'd do right. He'd serve his people. I told him I'd be checking in to make sure he did, and if he ever went off the track – well, he'd be fuckin' lucky to end up in a Tennessee prison cell.
Of course, my old man didn't give a shit about him getting clean, or the fact that the meth lab in the church might've blown several blocks to kingdom come. Early was pissed because the drug trade around here was his, and nobody muscled in on his territory with that cheap, inferior junk cooked up in test tubes.
Preacher man came out clean, and stayed that way. I kept an eye on his ass every other year, and occasionally had the prospects look through his windows when he wasn't around. They'd never seen him relapse, and he'd become a gospel sensation around town ever since, all because we'd made him a believer in everything he said.
Faith is a powerful thing, but sometimes it needs a helping hand.
Ma ran upstairs to change while I returned to the counter, stuffing my pipe in my pocket, wondering how I'd handle Firefly if he wanted to have it out over his sis at the big shindig about to go down.
Hopefully, he wouldn't be stupid. With any luck, we'd save settling our accounts for another day, since nobody wanted to put their personal shit in between another brother's vows.
“Ready when you are, Dusty,” she said, standing by the door, wearing a purple Sunday dress I hadn't seen in years.
“Fuck me sideways. Guess I know why you're nosing around my dating life, Ma,” I said, hiding the smile pulling at my face. “Who the hell is he, and how hard do I have to kick his ass?”
She blushed, laughing, giving me a gentle push when I got next to her. “Please. You know just as well as I do I'm too old for any man except your father.”
“Yeah,” I said, the giddiness fading when I thought about my asshole old man. “I'll start the truck.”
She'd sacrificed her whole damned life looking after me, and that asshole who'd given me half my DNA, plus a whole lot of grief.
Much as I teased about her meeting somebody knew, I had a feeling she never would. Too bad.
Part of her died the day they lowered Early in the ground, dressed in full patches, his dagger laid out across his chest. One day, she'd be buried with him, and I'd shed a few tears over this senseless fuckin' tragedy we called our lives.
Tragedy? That what you're calling the cozy life I left her with? My old man's nasty voice growled at me from the passenger seat. Fuck you, kid. I gave your Ma more than you ever will, even though I took some privileges when she wasn't lookin'.
I slapped the steering wheel and tightened my hands around it, soon as I climbed inside, before Ma joined me. No, Early, fuck you.
I wouldn't let his shit get to me today. Wouldn't even let Hannah's absence get me down. Ma was laughing, just like plenty more people would be soon. That meant a whole hell of a lot after everything the club went through lately.
I'd see my brothers hitched with a smile. Come heaven, hell, and everything in between. Even if I had to nail it to my fuckin' face.
Men roared. Happy couples kissed. Bingo howled, thumping his big grey tail on the grass for hours, overwhelmed with excitement.
We held the big bash on the land I owned a little ways outside town. It was a serene, wild place with the Smokies towering over us. History roamed deep in this soil. It'd been a place where regiments drilled during the Civil War. Didn't have to look hard to find my share of old bullets and cavalry gear wedged in the dirt.
Meg and Skin were electric like always. They laid their lives on the line for each other when they said their piece, and kissed like they wanted to wake the dead.
But Joker and his girl, Summer? Crazy motherfucker stole the damned show.
Almost had to let my pipe spill hot ash on my skin to believe what I was seeing. The most twisted brother in the club suddenly had it all, and then some. One big happy family with the wife, the kid, and the dog who hardly ever calmed down.
Brothers, family friends, and club associates milled around, digging into barbecue and slugging down booze. I went light on the Jack and pork, and lighter still on my usual lectures I gave everybody about the history rooted in this land. Paid my respects to my Veep and his beautiful bride before they took off for their honeymoon, leaving the rest of the party to go deep into the night.
Fires were lit. The last holdout fireflies appeared in the autumn night, burning bright as stars, before nature stamped them out for winter.
I sat by Ma, listening to her humming to herself, smoking my pipe. “Beautiful ceremony. Simply gorgeous,” she said, turning to me.
“Yeah, Ma. It really was. Never thought I'd see Joker ride off so happy. Glad I was wrong.”
“It'll be you someday, boy. Count on it.”
I cocked my head and snorted like always. Wouldn't show it, but for some fucked up reason, her fantasy words hit me deeper than before. Up 'til recently, I hadn't realized I wanted any of this shit, the woman, the kid, or the wedding.
Would that happen with Hannah, if things got serious enough? Was I ready to give it all up to make sure it did?
Who the fuck knew. I sure didn't, when I walked into the night, stepping away from Ma and the crowd to give myself some time to think.
When I found a quiet corner, I pulled out my phone, searching for any new texts. Nothing.
Shit, that bothered me. Worse, I hated that it did, wasting the minutes when I should've been celebrating pining after the chick who'd been the hardest lay of my life. No, more than just a lay.
If it wasn't for her, I would've told a prospect to drive Ma home because I'd be going back to my place with a fresh bottle and brand new pussy on my bike.
Ain't that sweet. Yearnin' after your carefree bulllshit days. I
looked up and saw Early's ghost leaning against a tree, a pipe uncomfortably like mine tucked into his beard. You know marriage don't have to change that shit, Dusty. You can have the wife, the kid, and all the pussy in the world on the side, long as you wear this patch like a man.
“Shut up,” I growled quietly, into the night, swiping my hand at a few fireflies blinking in my face.
Too bad preacher man didn't do exorcisms. Hell, maybe I needed a shrink.
'Course, I'd give up my gavel before I went there and confessed my sins to some quack.
I had blood on my hands, good and bad, just like my old man. We were too fuckin' similar, no matter how much I tried to do right by my brothers, right by Ma, right by the woman I was starting to call mine.
Every boy gets the good, the bad, and the ugly in droves from his father. Me, I'd gotten a world of shit, all of his strength, and a flashing red warning not to make his dumb mistakes.
Honestly, it wasn't just dad's women who made Ma suffer. Life in this club wasn't easy for any woman, and half the girls just hitched were only realizing what they'd gotten into. They bore the brunt of it like champs, sure.
Could Hannah? Fuck, did she even want to?
I didn't know, and the uncertainty chewed me apart, piece by bitter piece. I turned around angrily, just in time to see Ma coming toward me with a yawn.
“If you've had your fun...I'm ready to head out anytime,” she said, smoothing out her purple dress, so different from the scrubs she wore for work, or the jeans and t-shirts she donned on weekends.
I waited 'til we were halfway to the parking lot before I dropped the bomb building in my brain. “I've got a question. When you were with dad, did you ever have any doubts after you took his brand? Ever stop and wonder what the fuck you were doing mixed up in all this – the club, the danger, the bullshit, I mean? I need to know.”
We stepped several paces later. She looked at me intently through the night, a soft, reassuring smile on her lips.
“I'm only human. What do you think, Danny? You were there those nights I shut myself away and bawled my eyes out.”
Of course. How the fuck could I forget? I never would. I'd never know peace from it either, all because I'd let my fuck of a father shuffle off his mortal coil before slipping on my brass knuckles and busting his jaw.
“Why'd you stay?” I forced the question through my teeth. “You could've taken off anytime. You're a smart woman, good career. Could've made a fresh start anywhere. Was this all worth it?”
“For me, Dusty, the answer will always be yes.” She grabbed my fist with both her hands, pressing it tightly between her fingers. “When a woman puts ink on her skin and wears that PROPERTY patch, she's locked in. It's a vow, no different from the oath you saw your brothers and their new wives take tonight.”
“Contracts get voided. Half the shit he did to you qualifies,” I said, staring down at her as she began the standard head shake whenever I told her what a bastard he'd been. “Look, I know you'll live out your days feeling differently about it than me. I'll respect it. But fuck, Ma, I ain't ever gonna get it.”
“Love isn't easy, Danny. I had a higher tolerance than most for blood, grit, and toil. I opened my heart. I took my bruises to the heart. Kept hoping he'd change, when every day said he wouldn't. Hoped Early's bad habits would never rub off on you. So far, knock on wood, at least one of those wishes has come true.”
My eyes went wide. “Ma, I've spent my life running away from his shit. Trying to bury it for myself, for you, for this club. Just put him behind us for good. You're a strong woman, living with your regrets, looking 'em dead in the eye. The brothers, you, and all the girls who gave up their other options to become old ladies in this MC...I get it, they're stuck, and they want to be. Trouble is, I don't know if I can bring somebody else into this insanity.”
We both knew I was talking about Hannah. Probably sounded ridiculous, too, seeing how she'd grown up with one foot in the club as Firefly's little sis. But she'd gotten further away from this world than anybody raised into it, for fuck's sake. She wanted to leave this behind, and she'd practically succeeded.
Making her mine, making it official...wouldn't that be dragging her back?
Screwing her over? Leaving her with the same regrets Ma still hadn't come to terms with, regardless of what she said?
My stomach turned. Ma leaned in, gave me a peck on the cheek, and turned away before I could catch more than a glimpse of the tears beading in her old eyes.
“Why are you still here talking to me, son? Take me home, and then go see her. There's only one woman in the world who can help you sort this out, and she ain't me.”
Blunt as hell. Never failed to respect it.
I swallowed the rage and confusion building in my throat, nodding.
We walked to my truck without saying another word. Kept it that way the whole way into town, listening to the radio to avoid the awkward silence.
I let Ma off and waved, waiting 'til she got inside before I revved my truck's engine, and peeled out of her driveway. My hands shook like a motherfucker as I held the wheel, sheer emotion tearing through me, a fuckin' lifetime of hell trying to work its way out before I flipped it on its ass.
Bringing Hannah closer upended everything. But fuck if I'd get cold feet now, or let her slip away, all because the past kept me from making the moves I should.
No more half-assing it. No more regrets, just like Ma said. I'd march into her mansion, sweep her off her feet, and have her right by my side while we took the joys, the sorrows, and everything else a man and woman should. Long as they did it together.
“I'm coming, darlin'. This time for good,” I whispered into the darkness. “Get ready. I ain't leaving 'til I see you wearing PROPERTY OF DUST with a smile on your face.”
9
Ashes to Ashes (Hannah)
Several Hours Earlier
Why I thought I could sit on my laptop doing this crap tonight, I'd never know. I already felt terrible lying to Dusty about my absence, the mountain of work I had that stopped me from going to the big club wedding tonight.
Well, at least the mountain part was right.
I hadn't made any headway whatsoever with the transactions problem. A fix didn't seem possible in the app's current infrastructure. I'd have to rip apart everything, probably take down the program for several hours, and lose a lot of business in the meantime.
I let out a sigh, angrily slamming my computer shut. Pulling out my phone, I stared at the screen, sadness shooting through me when I saw the last text I'd sent.
SORRY, D. CAN'T MAKE IT. DUTY CALLS.
He hadn't responded, but why should he? Dusty had a sixth sense for knowing something was wrong, and I had a feeling he knew lies when he heard them, too.
Sooner or later, if I didn't come clean, he'd confront me.
The same cruel dilemma stared me in the face, promising to get nastier, the longer I let it linger.
Was it worse to lose him over these lies, even if they might save his life? Or should I give up, admit I'd gotten in way over my head, and tell the club everything?
They'd try to help me, at least. Knowing they had my back, that they'd do everything they could to make sure Dom and his men disappeared forever, would make me feel better.
Until the first shots were fired in the war, and the first man wearing a Deadly Pistols patch came home in a coffin. They'd avoided casualties in their latest clashes. But everybody's luck ran out eventually, and the Sicilians came armed with unfair advantages.
If telling them got Dust, Firefly, or any other man killed...
Then I'd probably douse this fucking place in gasoline and light the match. Nothing else would do for appeasing the gods of greed I'd given my soul to before they killed my man or my brother, and taking more blood to quench their thirst.
I cracked. Hot, restless tears rolled down my cheeks. My temples pounded, a fresh headache stabbing at my brain, taunting me for the millionth time over the mess I'd gotten myse
lf into.
Since I wasn't going to work anyway, I thought about calling Dusty, toying with the idea of telling him I'd be there soon. It would be too late for the ceremonies, but I could join the reception. Maybe wish the newlyweds well before they took off, and show Dust that I wasn't such a high strung whack job I'd put coding over him.
I balanced the phone in my hand, almost ready to dial. Before I could tap to make the call, someone took a hammer to my door. That's what the pounding sounded like.
I held my breath, knowing whatever it was, it couldn't be good.
Walking down the long hall to answer it, I had no fear. There was no guessing who might be banging away like that, climbing over my gate to smash their fist on my door, as if they had a better claim to this place than I did.
I halfway expected to see Dom himself standing on my porch when I cracked the door open.
“Let us the fuck in,” Tony said, pushing the barrel of a gun through the door, right in my face. Another one of Dom's lieutenants, Franco, stood behind him. “Not gonna ask you again, peach.”
Peach. They all used the same disgusting nickname. Like I was nothing more to them than a soft fruit meant to be sliced apart and devoured.
The gun in my face only left me one option. My fingers didn't even shake as I let them in, stepping back before they shoved their way in, banging the door angrily against the wall.
“I'll put on some coffee. It's going to be a long night, isn't it?” I asked, wondering if this eerie calm running in my veins would get me killed.
“No shit. So, you know why we're here?” Tony paused, eyeing the gun in his hands. He didn't give me time to answer. “You're late, bitch. Dom hasn't heard a fucking peep for days, and everybody knows that's a big problem.”
“Yeah, I'm sorry. I had other things on my mind.”
“Other things?” He looked at me, smoothing an angry hand through his thinning hair. “Franco, I want you to get this cunt against the wall, and help me pat her down. I think she's lost her fuckin' mind.”
