Love, Lies, & Crime: Anthology

by Kimberly Blalock

  Tim glared at the screen with cold eyes and a snarled lip. Jax looked at him with a pair of nervous eyes. Whipping around to face his brother-in-law, Tim glared at Colt. Colt nodded at him. In a booming voice, Colt called out, “Sorry to do this fellas, but I have to close early. Family emergency.”

  While some of the man grumbled, others asked how they could help. Thirty-two of the fifty one men stayed to offer their support.

  “Call Danny,” Colt said to Tim. “Have him round up some able bodies at the bar.”

  Tim nodded as he reached for his cell phone. It rang twelve times before going to voicemail.

  “Hey, Dan… It’s T. Call me as soon as you get this,” Tim said, leaving a voicemail for Shelly’s brother.

  “Got a plan?” Jax asked.

  Colt stood silently for a moment as everyone stared at his determined face.

  “I do. It’s brazen… but it could work,” Colt said as Averi gave placed her hand on his back. She clearly knew what his idea was, and backed him up all the way. “We’re gonna take a stand. We’re gonna cut them off at the town line. This is our town! Not theirs… Let’s keep it that way!”

  “Harlan… Your bike shop is right on the edge of town,” Tim suggested.

  “Sure is. Perfect place to set up shop.”

  “Gather up all the guys and tell them to go there,” Colt suggested.

  “Should we call the po-lice?” Harlan suggested with a fresh smirk on his face.

  “Oh, yeah… For the Devils to escape again? No. Let’s pick up where we left off last November,” Colt said firmly.

  “Drag the devils to hell,” Tim suggested.

  “That’s the only way.”

  “No mercy,” Jax added with gritted teeth.

  “What about the girls? And your kid?” Harlan asked.

  “There is an apartment up on the third floor here. There is a security code to get in. Only I know it. It’s the safest place I can think of,” Colt admitted.

  “I’m going to have to take care of some stuff,” Averi admitted. “I have to go explain to Dr. Tasco what’s going on.”

  “I suggest you go now, and tell that cheap bastard to give you the week off,” Colt demanded.

  “Yeah, because that’s how business works,” Averi said as she shook her head. “I have to go to the drug store and grocery store, too. Colt, it’s not like before. Matthew has needs.”

  “Go now, and hurry. If you’re not back by three, I swear I’ll send a search party.”

  Averi sighed heavily. “I’ll be fine. I’m leaving Matthew with you.”

  Averi passed their son to Colt, along with a black baby carrier.

  “You really gonna wear that?” Jax asked Colt with a laugh.

  “Shit, yeah… This butterball is heavy!” Colt said as he strapped Matthew to his chest. Quickly, he walked off barking more orders to his comerads in arms with baby Matthew giggling at him, while Averi bolted out the front door with her leather wallet in her hands.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Silent as the Grave

  You never realize how much noise you make when you move, speak or breathe, until absolute silence is a requirement. Silent as the grave, or so the saying goes. There was no other viable alternative.

  Stay silent or drop dead.

  Shawn’s breath hitched as he hid behind the broad trunk of a spruce tree. He followed behind the Devils, giving them a fifty feet berth. Helicopters hovered over the tree line. The massive man hunt had begun. Shawn was up against a double-edged sword. If the Devils found him, he was dead for sure. If the guards found him, he’d die in prison. Shawn wasn’t trailing the Devils for himself, though.

  Averi, Randy, Tim and Matthew came to the forefront of Shawn’s mind. He recalled a promise he had made to his sister Corinne when her kids were still babies. Corinne asked Shawn to take care of her kids like his own should anything happen to her. While Shawn wasn’t exactly dad material, he always watched out for Randy, Tim and Averi. Now that Colt and Averi have started a family, Shawn was worried about his great nephew, too.

  Shawn hoped that if he could track where the Devils were going, he could at least tip off his family. That is all Shawn cared about – keeping them safe. He knew he might get killed in the process, but if he could protect his family, it would be worth it.

  I’ll be damned if the Devils are going to reclaim Oakeley, Shawn thought.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Responsibilities

  Randy’s black pick-up truck came to a grinding stop in the parking lot of St. Catherine’s Hospital. He wore an unreadable expression on his face. Randy’s pace was quick as he walked through the revolving door of the hospital, the doors spinning not nearly as fast as his head was. Randy walked up to the front desk and he was directed to the eight floor – neonatal. There he found Cheyenne. With her arms crossed, Cheyenne had an uneasy look about her as she peered through the glass window of the neonatal nursery.

  “Chey…” Randy called with a troubled look in his eyes.

  He hooked his arm around her shoulder. Cheyenne looked up and Randy’s stomach dropped when he saw the look on her face. Her crystal blue eyes were so full of dread.

  “You okay?” Randy asked in a husky voice as he swept his fingers across her cheek.

  “How can someone do this to their own child?” Cheyenne asked in a voice that gutted Randy.

  “She was lost a long time ago, Chey…” Randy said in a regretful voice.

  “Find yourself then! I get it. When you’re hooked, you think about nothing else. I was messed up for a while. I would never, never drag a child through my mess!” Cheyenne vented with a hurt look in her eyes.

  “This isn’t about you, Chey. You faced your demons,” Randy added.

  “I know that,” Cheyenne replied as she looked up at Randy. “It just makes me realize how lucky I am.”

  It bothered Randy to hear her talk this way, but he knew she was right. That could have been her… Cheyenne had been clean and sober for over a year now. There was one monumental difference. Cheyenne would never hurt or neglect a child. Especially her own. Randy saw the good in Cheyenne when she couldn’t even see it in herself. Cheyenne was not her mother. Randy saw the love in her eyes whenever she held their nephew in her arms.

  Cheyenne’s gaze peered into the nursery, her eyes cemented on the isolette where Baby Girl Grisham rested. The pink tag that was attached to the cart read, “Baby Girl Grisham, 6 lbs, 9 oz. 20 inches long.”

  “What do you want to do Cheyenne?” Randy whispered in her ear.

  The words Cheyenne so desperately needed to say were on her tongue, but she was reluctant to say them.

  “Tell me,” Randy pressed. “I have your back. You’re my wife, not some girl I keep around for a while. You know that. Tell me what you need.

  “Tell me,” Randy pressed. “I have your back. You’re my wife, not some girl I keep around for a while. You know that. Tell me what you need. I can’t help you unless you tell me.”

  Cheyenne sighed heavily as the pressure mounted. Was he ready for this type of responsibility? Would he crack under the pressure?

  Cheyenne’s nerves were on edge. Life had been better than Cheyenne could ever remember it. They weren’t perfect. They bickered as if they were married for a century but they loved hard. Cheyenne was afraid that if she applied too much pressure that all their good intentions would come crashing down upon them.

  “Randy?” Cheyenne asked.

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Have you ever felt an overwhelming need to do something that most people would think was insane?” Cheyenne questioned with a worried look on her face.

  Randy smiled as a stream of memories flooded his mind.

  “Well, yeah…” Randy said with a smile. That was kind of his area of expertise.

  “Well, yeah…” Randy said with a smile. That was kind of his area of expertise.

  Before they could continue their conversation, a nurse approached Randy and Cheyenne. Dressed in color
ful scrubs, the nurse presented a cheerful image but her eyes were anything but.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Ford?” the nurse asked.

  “Yes,” Randy responded as he wrapped his arm back around Cheyenne’s shoulder.

  “Please accept my condolences on your mother, Cheyenne. My name is Ann. I’m a neonatal nurse and Baby Girl Grisham is my patient,” the nurse explained.

  “Is she going to be alright?” Cheyenne asked with concern rampant in her voice.

  Nurse Ann cast a hard gaze Cheyenne’s way. She asked, “Did you know that your mother was pregnant?”

  “No,” Cheyenne said as she shook her head. “Otherwise I would have brought her here months ago. We did not have a very good relationship.”

  “Did she have any other family? Where is the baby’s father?” Nurse Ann asked.

  “Just some cousins out in Nebraska. I have no idea who the father is. At first I thought it might have been my step-father but he’s been dead over a year now.”

  The nurse sighed heavily, “Is there anyone willing to take responsibility for the child?”

  Here it is, Cheyenne thought. The moment of truth. But before she could speak up, Randy had made the decision for her.

  In a steady voice, Randy spoke up, “We will take responsibility for her. It’s only right.”

  Cheyenne whipped her body around and stared at Randy with wide eyes. She was shocked.

  “Mrs. Ford, are you in agreement?” Nurse Ann asked.

  Cheyenne was still in shock. She stared at the nurse for a moment.

  “Mrs. Ford… I need an answer or I will have to contact social services. You’re the next of kin…”

  As soon as Ann said “social services,” Cheyenne blurted out the words on her tongue. “Yes. We will raise her as our own,” Cheyenne said confidently. Randy’s grip tightened on her shoulder. Cheyenne turned around to face Randy. Cheyenne gazed into Randy’s deep green eyes.

  “Right?” she asked, self-consciously.

  With a faint smile on his face, Randy replied, “Right.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Crosshairs

  Averi climbed into the cab of Colt’s truck. Taking a deep breath, she tried to let the stress of the day roll off her shoulders. She had a strange feeling – a feeling of anticipation. Or was it dread? Whatever it was, every nerve in Averi’s body was alive. She was ready for a fight and she knew with thirty-seven Devils on the loose, that was just what was coming for them. As Averi put the key in the ignition, she pulled off, leaving Monument Avenue behind her.

  Averi drove to the supermarket and loaded up two carts full of groceries. She paid in cash and gave the bag boy a twenty dollar bill to help load everything in Colt’s truck. When everything was loaded, it appeared that Averi had purchased enough food for an army, and in a way, she had. Averi didn’t know how long they would be cooped up, and she wanted to be prepared. Next, she went to the drug store and grabbed several jumbo boxes of diapers, wipes and several canisters of baby formula, as well as a first aid kit and some Advil for her throbbing head ache.

  Two doors down, Ingram’s Gun Shop waited. With her arms full of bags from the pharmacy, Averi walked through the door. Ingram, an old man with a long beard and rounded belly gave Averi an amused smirk as she walked through the front door. Seeing his snide smile, Averi rolled her eyes.

  “Mrs. McClain… What can I do you for?” Ingram asked.

  Averi approached the front counter as she placed her bags on the floor. Averi leaned across the counter and in her most ladylike voice said, “I need ammo, lots of it!”

  Ingram replied with a smile, “Colt McClain sends his lady to do his dirty work.”

  Averi recoiled. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. This is for me!”

  Ingram continued to smirk. “For what? A little purse pistol?”

  “Cute. No. I need ammo for two Winchester rifles and a Glock. Think you can handle that? Or should I go to the gun depot? Shit!” Averi exclaimed, sounding more like Randy than herself.

  Ingram had a deer in headlight expression on his face.

  “Yeah, I’m nice. I go to church. I make Sunday dinner for my husband and brothers and sister-in-law and all their friends. I wear make-up and can rock stiletto pumps. Screw with me or my family and I will pull a red pump off and slap you with a pretty little concussion. Don’t mess with me!”

  Ingram’s eyes were wide as he stared at Averi.

  “Now box my stuff up!”

  “Alright, alright! Sorry!” Ingram said as he began to load up a brown bag with Averi’s ammo when the bell over the door rang.

  A man wearing a black suit and a pair of sunglasses entered the shop. He peered down over his glasses at Averi and approached the counter. Averi collected her bags, glancing at the man nervously. She did not recognize him, but there was something about him that made her pulse quicken. She noticed that he had a firm jaw. His hair was a light shade of brown that was shorn close to his skin. Averi’s gaze was broken when the man removed his sunglasses.

  “Hello, sweetness,” the man said in a voice that was dripping with condescension. The man had a long scar that ran down his neck and she noticed that his hands had fresh abrasions on them.

  Averi had an alarmed look on her face as she backed away from him. There was something off about him. Something dangerous.

  “Going so soon, sugar?” he asked in an accent that was not from around these parts.

  Averi didn’t reply as she sped out the front door. She wasn’t retreating danger, though. She was stepping from the frying pan right into the flame.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  On the Move

  Silently, Shawn stalked the Devils through the woods, careful not to draw attention to himself. For five long miles, he followed them, treading the razor sharp edge of freedom, caught between the law and total anarchy.

  The Devils were approaching a clearing in the woods. Three black vans sat idle along the dirt road. This had all been well planned and orchestrated. At the back of the queue of vans sat a white Lexus. A man wearing a pair of dark shades sat in the driver’s seat. It was hard for Shawn to see who was behind the wheel of the vans. The windows were tinted, concealing their identity, but as the Devils climbed into the vehicles, Shawn recognized the drivers. Molly Hearns, sister of Jimmy and deeply embittered ex-girlfriend of Randy Ford, sat in the driver seat of the first van as Beau Bixby climbed into the passenger seat. The driver of the second van identified themselves with their voice alone. As Doc Marone climbed into the second van, Tina Marone shouted, “Daddy!” loudly. In the third van, Stephanie Rogers sat behind the driver’s seat looking thrilled as Gunnar Rhoades climbed into the passenger seat. Winking at her, Gunnar pecked Stephanie on her cheek and turned around to face a baby in a car seat.

  “How’s my Kelly girl?” Gunnar asked his six month old daughter.

  Stephanie wore a cheap gold band on her left ring finger. She and Gunnar had exchanged vows in a jailhouse wedding when Stephanie was four months pregnant.

  Shawn shook his head. “Keep it classy, assholes,” he muttered as he watched the vehicles pull off. Rex Linch sat in the passenger seat of the Lexus and cast an angry look towards Shawn.

  Had he known? Shawn wondered.

  Casting the thought aside, Shawn glanced at the Lexus’ license plate. Committing the numbers to memory, Shawn watched as the vehicles stormed down the dirt road towards Route 1.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Changed Man

  “Is she going to be okay?” Randy asked Nurse Ann as he gave a wary glance towards the isolette where Baby Girl Grisham slept.

  The nurse sighed as she reviewed her chart. “She has a long road ahead of her, but she is very, very lucky. Preliminary tests look better than we expected them to. We are going to keep her for observation.”

  “What was my mother on?” Cheyenne asked.

  “It was a lethal cocktail of heroin, meth and painkillers.”

  “How long will you keep the baby?” Rand
y asked.

  “It’s touch and go right now, but we will keep you updated.”

  “Thank you,” Cheyenne added.

  The nurse passed them some paperwork to fill out.

  “You will still have to go to the county clerk’s office and file a petition for emergency custody. You can initiate adoption, too. You have to obtain emergency custody first, before we can release her to you. Go to the courthouse tomorrow,” the nurse instructed.

  Randy nodded as he observed the serious look on the nurse’s face. She then asked, “Have you decided on a name?”

  After a moment of thinking, Cheyenne spoke up, “Samantha Rae Ford.”

  “Rae?” Randy asked.

  “It’s a combination of our names. Chey and Randy,” Cheyenne explained.

  “Samantha Ford it is, then…” Randy agreed.

  “Fill this out,” the nurse instructed as she reviewed the forms Cheyenne had already filled out.

  As Randy pulled his scrawl across the page, the nurse took the clip board from him.

  “We’re still running tests, so we only have a few minutes until she has to be in cardiology. Follow me,” the nurse instructed.

  Unsure of where the nurse was leading them to, Randy and Cheyenne exchanged a dark look before following the nurse down the hall.

  They followed her into the staff entrance to the newborn nursery. Randy was about to go follow through before Cheyenne stopped him.

  “What?”

  Cheyenne didn’t say anything but instead put her hands under the hand sanitizer dispenser and waited for Randy to do the same. As he rubbed the clear liquid over his rough hands, the obnoxious smell caught his nose. Cheyenne followed the nurse’s path to Samantha’s isolette.