Chasing Claire (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club)

by Marinaro, Paula

  Prosper snorted and then gave out a low chuckle. “You didn’t learn that from me. I ever try that with Pinky, she would untie herself and use the rope to hang me.”

  He let out another slow chuckle, reached into the box on the table and offered Reno one of his Sunday cigars. The two men sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

  Reno watched as the tension slowly began to leave Prosper’s face.

  “I didn’t know that they made that shit in the shape of a heart. Nice fucking ring.” Prosper reached for the ring box again.

  “Yeah, as soon as she said yes, I drove to every damn jeweler in the county. I finally settled on this one.” Reno leaned in and looked at it too. “Hope she likes it.”

  “Are you kidding? Claire is going to goddamn love it,” Prosper reassured him.

  Reno smirked at his uncle.

  “She wants this big-deal wedding. Cake, white dress, champagne, and all the rest of it.”

  “Yeah?” Prosper grinned.

  “Yeah.” Reno grinned back.

  “Jesus, the women are going to be all over that,” Prosper said. “They’ve got a baby girl running around to spoil the shit out of, and now there’s going to be a big fucking wedding to plan. Dolly and Pinky are going to think they died and went to heaven.”

  Then he added thoughtfully, “I guess we fucking deserve some happiness around here.”

  Prosper and Reno sat together for a while then, each in his own happy thoughts.

  Then Reno watched as Prosper got up and moved to the wall safe. After a few spins and clicks, the heavy door swung open.

  Prosper reached in and found what he was looking for. Then he took a cloth from the wet bar and made an effort to clean the booze, the glass, and the blood off the table. When it was cleaned well enough, he threw down a blue-backed document.

  He nodded to Reno. “That is yours.”

  Reno was confused. “What are you talking about?’

  “Read it.” Prosper leaned back in the chair with his muscled arms crossed in front of him. He watched on as his nephew tried to make sense of the document.

  “This is a land deed,” Reno said, still perplexed. “This ain’t mine. I don’t own any land.”

  “Yours now, son,” Prosper said.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Reno asked again.

  “It’s a couple of acres. Extends off the property line of this house here. There’s nothing on it. It needs clearing. But it’s on road front, has sewer lines and all that shit. If you are up for putting the work into it and having a mean sonofoabitch like your uncle here for a neighbor, it’s yours.”

  “Mine?” Reno carefully skimmed through the pages of the document.

  “Yep. Consider it a wedding present. For you and Claire.”

  Reno fell speechless. He looked at his uncle. Then he looked down at the land deed in his hand. Then back to his uncle.

  “Shit. I don’t know how to thank you,” Reno said gruffly.

  “Don’t need to thank me. You’re my goddamn nephew and I fucking love you.” Prosper put his hand hard on Reno’s shoulder. “But if you mess this up with Claire, I’m going to put a bullet right through your heart.”

  Reno scrubbed his hand over his face and grinned. “Don’t start loading that six shooter anytime soon, because you’re going to be disappointed. There won’t be no need to shoot me, Boss. There won’t be any need at all.”

  “I know that, son.” Prosper grinned back. “Now let’s go tell your mother and your aunt the good goddamn news. You know those two hens have been sitting with their eyes glued to that door ever since we walked in. Drives my woman crazy, absolutely insane, that she can’t hear through these walls.”

  Dolly and Pinky, who had given up on the coffee and a little somethin’ somethin’ an hour ago, were now just filling their cups with a little somethin’ somethin’. The two worried women looked up as the heavy doors to the office slammed wide open.

  The first thing they saw when those heavy doors opened was Prosper holding heavily on to Reno, as the two of them powered out together through the wide archway. Prosper had Reno’s neck in a stranglehold tight against him and his big forearm ran wet with streaks of blood. Long, thin shards of embedded glass caught the light and glistened against his heavily tattooed forearm. Dolly and Pinky looked past the two men, and what they saw through the open office door made their blood run cold. The wall was splattered and stained, chairs lay broken on the floor, and smashed glass littered the smooth blue carpet.

  The two women reached under the counter for each other’s hand at the same exact time. This could not be good.

  Unexpectedly, Prosper’s face broke out in a big grin. He pulled Reno in tight to him one last time, then he placed a big resounding man kiss on his nephew’s head.

  “Women, looks like you got a damn wedding to plan.” Prosper looked very pleased with himself.

  Dolly looked at her son and her son looked right back at her. Then Reno smiled a smile that his mother had not seen on his face since the Christmas he got his first dirt bike.

  “Yeah, mom. I’m going to marry Claire. You good with that?” Reno moved to put his arms around his mother.

  “Yeah, baby boy. I’m good with that,” she answered. Dolly hugged her son close. A satisfied sigh of relief broke through from her anxious heart. Then they both turned to Prosper who had gathered his woman into his arms and kissed her hard. Pinky blushed and seemed to be fully enjoying every bit of her husband’s attentions. But then she pushed away from him, took a good long look at his arm, and handed him a shot from the good bottle.

  Prosper, Reno, and Dolly watched Pinky walk down the hallway toward the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit. When they heard her long-suffering sigh, they grinned at each other.

  And for that one moment, all was right in their world.

  CHAPTER 53

  Today had been a good day. An early morning rain had washed away the sticky humidity of the last few hours and had left in its place a light clean breeze. The heavy veil of mist had moved on at midmorning and the sun in all its glory had finally broken through. Its warm rays came streaming down in thin beams, and turned each remaining droplet into small prisms of light.

  Reno and Prosper had taken a step back from clearing the land that would be our home, and I had taken a step back from finding the perfect wedding dress which, according to Raine, I had already found several times over. When I refused to shout out “Yes to the dress” at the most recent perfect-fitting, just-right-priced wedding gown, my sister accused me of enjoying the whole shopping experience so much that I refused to choose one.

  She was not wrong.

  But today was the day to put all personal endeavors aside and give back.

  The Hells Saints had just completed a weekend of their annual charity event and everyone was feeling the satisfaction that came from a good deed done. I had counted seventeen patches in the past two days. All charters and allied clubs had come together with their friends and families for a charitable run. The event had ended in a weekend of horseshoe, pool, and dart tournaments, raffles, live music, and a grand finale clambake. Even Glory had put aside her aversion for being anywhere that Jules might be and had come out to help. And even though it hadn’t been expected of us, Glory, Raine, and I showed up the next day to help Dolly, Pinky, and the boys clean up.

  “Well, that’s about it,” I said to Pinky.

  “Thank heavens, that’s over until next year,” she sighed. “I don’t want to see another plate of potato salad for the rest of my life. Or at least for the next twelve months.”

  I smiled at her. I finished putting the tin foil, plastic wrap, silverware, and various pots and pans back into the cabinets.

  “Let’s go grab a beer and join the boys, what do you say?” Pinky suggested.

  “Great idea! I could use a couple of cold ones right about now,” I responded. “I’ll go and grab the cash crew and be right there.

  “I’m going to just run
the dishwasher and organize a few things in the fridge,” Glory said to me.

  I turned and put my arms gently around her shoulders. “You can’t avoid him forever, honey.”

  Glory looked at me, a small measure of sadness darkening her light blue eyes. “Sure, I can.”

  But then she grinned. “It was a great couple of days, Claire. It felt good being a part of it.”

  I squeezed her tight and said, “Have a beer before you go?”

  Glory nodded. Then she turned and began piling things into the refrigerator.

  I knocked softly at the club office door, and Diego answered it.

  I could see Jules and Raine seated behind him. Prosper leaned against the corner wall. A pile of checks sat on one side of the desk, and several stacks of cash were on the other side. A couple of ledger books and a calculator were placed in front of them.

  “How’d we do?” I asked.

  My sister smiled. “Great. Better than last year. After we pay for the food and some of the other expenses, we have raised about ten thousand dollars in donation money. I just wrote out the check to the East Coast Wounded Men and Women in Military Project.”

  I nodded and smiled. “That’s great. I called them yesterday and told them that we would have a check ready for them. They said they would send someone to come get the money. Prosper, please remember to make sure you are around for the photo. I want to take a picture of you donating the money and send it in to the local papers.”

  “And I already told you, Claire, that I don’t want my damn picture taken.” Prosper’s voice grumbled out into the room. “Last time we did something like this, the Associated Press picked that shit up.”

  “Worried about Interpol?” Diego grinned at him. Jules looked up from the pile of money and chuckled.

  “No, smart ass. It’s just that it ain’t about that,” he snarled.

  I crossed my arms and looked at him.

  “And I told you that a little bit of good press never hurt anybody. This club does a lot for the townships and nobody knows about it, and that’s okay. A few thousand here or there for the schools or playgrounds, that’s the kind of give back that’s expected, I guess. But this is more than that. A lot of the guys in the charters are veterans, and they’re proud to do their part. It’s not like the Saints are exactly rolling in good press, lately.”

  Prosper snorted but everyone else nodded in agreement, a gesture of goodwill could not hurt.

  Prosper went on to grumble and I countered each grumble with a well-pointed argument. It didn’t matter, anyway. I had already called the Project about our donation and they were eager to receive it. I just hoped that once they were here, Prosper would consent to the photo op. If not, I would sic Pinky on him. Despite his grumbling and protests to the contrary, there really wasn’t much the big man could deny her.

  And more often than not, Pinky was on my side.

  With the money counted and the compound cleaned, it was time to take a well-deserved break. I went back into the kitchen and put a few beers and the rest of the leftover sandwiches on a tray. Then I headed for the picnic tables. Everyone but Glory came out for lunch, and I noticed a measure of disappointment in Jules’s eyes. We sat at the large tables drinking and eating and talking; we were just like any other family after a weekend of hard work.

  The distant roar of an engine signaled that someone was coming up the road to the compound. We all turned to watch as the SUV made its way up through the open gates of the Hells Saints property. It stopped in the parking area right in front of the three large flagpoles. The tallest pole sported the American flag, the other one flew the club flag, and the third had four smaller flags displayed. Each one represented a branch of the military. The vehicle had an insignia on its door. I didn’t recognize the vehicle, but I felt the boys quiet and tense beside me.

  About half an hour earlier the two men in the SUV had stopped right outside of the town line. They had pulled into a convenience store, parked, and grabbed the two large garment bags that were draped carefully over the back seat. They walked into the small establishment dressed as civilians, but walked out spit-and-polished. Two hundred and thirty-seven years of tradition now covered their lean, strong bodies. Their black shoes shone up at them and reflected the burnished brass buttons of their coats. The blood-red stripe hung straight against the deep blue of their pressed pants. Around their necks sat a tight, rigid red-trimmed collar. Their white gloves were folded perfectly, left over right, and tucked next to a shiny brass buckle.

  The major shut off the engine and looked at the gunnery sergeant. He nodded and the two men climbed out of the SUV. Their shiny black shoes kicked up the dust and gravel from the driveway as they walked purposely toward the group of men and women that were congregated at a large picnic table.

  As the deep hazy sunset lined the backdrop of the woodland, Major Elmswood focused on the forearm of the biggest man at the table. He kept his eyes glued to the tattoo that read in simple script, Always Faithful. Always Loyal. Semper Fidelis.

  The men at the table all stood at the same time. With wary eyes, clenched jaws, and squared shoulders, they surveyed the two officers walking toward them. Sergeant Nickerson noted that three of them sported military tattoos. Then he glanced again at the group of flags flying high over the compound.

  They know, the sergeant thought to himself.

  A pretty girl with long dark hair and bright blue eyes leaned across the table and spoke first.

  “Oh, look, Prosper. The men are here for the check. Wow, that was fast. And they are all dressed up too. That will make a nice picture.” Then she smiled brightly at the two officers.

  When she went to move from her seat, the large man she had addressed as Prosper put his hand on her arm.

  He spoke to her with surprising gentleness. “Claire. These men are not here to pick up the check, honey.”

  And then he paused and added, “Where is Glory?”

  CHAPTER 54

  The refrigerator was full to the point of bursting. Glory stood in front of it with her hands on her hips, and tried to find room to put the various leftover casseroles, cold salads, and desserts. What a mess, she thought to herself, as she gave up looking for a place to put the large containers. She would have to remove most of the contents of the refrigerator and start over.

  “Glory.”

  She turned at the sound of her name to see Prosper’s eyes settle gently upon her. His big body partially blocked the two men behind him.

  But only partially.

  As the two uniformed officers stepped out from behind Prosper, Glory started in surprise. Then her eyes took in the crisp dress blues, the shining brass buttons, and the sheathed sabers at their hips. Both men had their hats in their hands.

  Marine officers.

  Glory’s hand flew to her stomach, then it fluttered up to her heart where it stopped and lay shaking. She looked past the men to find that Jules had entered the kitchen. His gaze spoke to her with such tender sorrow that it made her knees weak. Jules shoved his way through to her. She reached out and twisted the fabric of his T-shirt into a tight knot in her fist.

  “No.” She looked at the officers. “No.”

  “Ma’am . . .”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Ma’am . . . are you Glory Thomas, the sister of Captain Hallelujah Thomas?”

  “No.” Glory’s voice bordered on hysteria.

  “Please, ma’am,” The officer spoke gently.

  Jules murmured something soft and low, his hand placed firmly around her waist.

  Glory nodded.

  “I am sorry to be here today, ma’am. We have received word from his unit commander that Captain Hallejulah Thomas has been very seriously injured in . . .”

  “He’s wounded?” Prosper broke in. “Why the fuck didn’t you call? Isn’t the notification process for you to call unless he’s . . . ?”

  “Stop! Stop don’t say it! Please don’t say it, Prosper,” Glory choked out.

/>   Prosper didn’t say it and Glory took a step away from Jules and stood on her own.

  The two Marines kept their eyes on Glory.

  “My phone.” She looked helplessly at them. “I dropped it off the dock yesterday. It’s sitting at the bottom of the lake somewhere.”

  “I understand, ma’am,” the major continued, “your brother was very seriously injured in Kandahar, Afghanistan, earlier this morning when his convoy hit a roadside bomb. Gunnery Sergeant Harris is your casualty assistance officer and he will be here to help you with anything you need.”

  “How bad is he?” Glory whispered.

  “We don’t have all the details in yet, ma’am. We do know that Captain Thomas has been airlifted to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, ma’am,” the sergeant answered.

  The silence was deafening as the officers gave her time to process. Prosper and Jules stood right where they were.

  “Where is that? I don’t know where that is,” she said weakly.

  “It is next to the US air base in Ramstein, Germany, ma’am.”

  “I need to go to him,” Glory moaned. Her eyes were glued to the sergeant.

  “Yes, ma’am. I can arrange that for you.”

  “When? How soon can I go?” Glory fought through the daze.

  “I can get those orders in place as soon as you are ready, ma’am,” the sergeant assured her.

  “I’m ready now,” Glory whispered. “I’m ready now. I just need to go home first. I need to do a few things . . . I need . . . I need . . . Oh, God. God. I’m not sure what I need . . .”

  “Glory.” Jules took a step toward her. His eyes filled with concern and longing.

  Glory put her shaking hand up in a barely controlled stop motion. “Stop. Stop, Jules. Don’t say a word. Don’t come near me again. Don’t touch me.”

  She stepped back and leaned against the counter to steady herself. Her voice was filled with steely determination and heartbreaking vulnerability.

  Jules moved toward her anyway.

  Glory shook her head and panic filled her eyes.