I spit blood on the ground at my feet. “Wouldn’t take you for a praying man.”
Baldy pressed the sharp end of his blade deeper into my neck.
“I swore, if I ever got the chance, I’d cut off that dick and feed it to you.” Dane threw the book on the bed and stomped toward me, fists clenched, cheeks red, eyes narrowed to deadly slits. “Problem is, pretty boy, I can’t kill you.” He pressed his nose to my cheek and released a frustrated breath in my ear. “Ain’t that a bitch. ‘Cause I got a hundred and one ways of makin’ a pansy-ass fucker like you scream.”
He shoved his hand into my crotch, grabbed my boys and twisted, indeed making me scream, and crumple to the floor, where I stayed until I could breathe again. When I pushed to my feet, neither one of my new buddies made a move toward me. They only watched, half amused.
“Sit,” Dane ordered, pointing to the bed.
I only obeyed because my head was a fuzzy mess.
“I know where you’ve been, who you work for, what you’re capable of.”
“The fuck you talking about?”
“I’ve had eyes on you. I’ve had eyes on Blondie and the boy, too. I need to pull my men off her. Club’s getting suspicious, and I’m done risking my life for your fuck-up. So here’s the deal. I ain’t gonna kill you. Long as I have your word you’re gonna be her guardian angel. Hire your own damn men to watch out for them.”
“What the hell did she do to need protection?”
“Only thing you gotta know is that she tangled with a brother. Club doesn’t know it was her, but they find out? Nothing I can do to stop the natural progression of things. Got me? Anyone harms a hair on either one of their heads, I’ll unleash the gates of Hell on your ass.”
“Tell me something, tough guy. You hate me so much, why you trusting me with your son’s life.”
Dane threw his head back and laughed. Fell into a fit of hysterics. Tears and all. Baldy found it amusing and joined in. I watched, trembling with rage.
When composed, Dane headed for the door and turned to face me, one hand on the knob. “Fuckin’ idiot. I tried to tap that ass, but the fuckin’ cunt wouldn’t spread ‘em for me. The kid ain’t mine. He’s blood, but he ain’t mine.” He tapped his index finger to his temple. “Think, pretty boy. You’ll figure it out. And when you do, I’m trusting you to do the right thing. You ain’t gonna like what you find. But you’ll damn well deal with it, that is, if you prefer keeping your head attached to your shoulders. Think,” he said again, laughing. With that, he disappeared.
I couldn’t think past the pain shooting through my head and groin. Somehow, I managed to shower and order dinner. When settled, I pulled up the other files Tito had sent to my phone.
When I opened the first folder, labeled Slade Mason Hospital Records, my blood turned frigid. The picture attached to the file wasn’t Slade. It was Addison Reynolds. She looked two breaths short of death. Cheeks hollow, dark circles around her eyes, hair stringy and greasy. A gash stretched from the corner of her mouth to her ear. It’d been stitched, not by a professional. The Slayer’s skull and snake symbol was tatted under her left eye.
Doctor Leticia Slade was listed as her physician. I struggled to decipher the notes and medical jargon, but it didn’t take long figure out what the hell had happened. The mother had been brought to the emergency room in labor. She had given birth to a healthy baby boy. The last entry in her file stated the patient had been discharged from the hospital along with the infant the next afternoon. I looked at the date. It would’ve been close to nine months after I fucked Addison in a drunken stupor on prom night.
I’m done risking my life for your fuck-up.
He’s blood, but he ain’t mine.
Dane’s voice rattled around my throbbing skull.
I couldn’t read another word.
I tossed my cell across the room, fisted the hair on top of my head and released the boiling rage in a profanity-filled scream.
Addy’s profanity-riddled scream ripped my heart wide open. “Slade, you self-righteous bitch. I hate you! I fucking hate your cunt ass! You can’t make me do this. They’ll kill me, do you understand?”
I understood. They’d kill me, too, if she didn’t shut up and come with us. No way in hell was I letting that baby be sold to the highest bidder, or worse, raised by a bunch of sick criminals.
“Grab the Jeep, Slade. Dad and I got this.” Tucker tossed me his keys. I heard the scary drone of engines in the distance. Oh shit. They were close.
“Hurry.”
I looked down at her uncle one last time and kicked him in the gut, because it seemed like the right thing to do, and because I needed to release my anger and disgust. Sick piece of shit—trading his pregnant niece for a debt he’d never be able to pay. I hoped he was dead. When I’d hit him with the baseball bat, he went down like a rag doll. Judging by the amount of blood on the floor, he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon. Maybe never.
Fueled by fear and adrenaline, I sprinted to the Jeep and pulled up to the door. Addy kicked and screamed. With great difficulty, Tuck and my father managed to maneuver her into the small back seat. I joined her, locked my arms around her shoulders, and held on for dear life as we drove into the darkness and away from the nightmare.
“Slade.”
I jumped, dropping the toothpick holder I’d been polishing for the past five minutes. I stared into the bright eyes of Maurice.
“Hi there.” I shook my head. “Sorry, I was daydreaming. Jeez. How embarrassing.” I grabbed a menu and hugged it as if it could offer support. “How are you this morning?”
“Come and sit with me for a minute.”
I followed him to his table and helped him settle before sliding next to him. I nodded to Margie. She grabbed a pot of coffee and two mugs and set them in front of us. I poured. Maurice stared long and hard. Something about the way he studied me made my stomach sink.
“Maurice, I think it’s time for you to fess up. You’ve been keeping a secret, and it’s driving me insane,” I said, hoping to break the tension.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“What’s with the twenty-eight cent tips?”
He chuckled, dropping his gaze to his hands. “Oh, that’s an easy one. My daughter was born on the twenty-eighth. It was the first time I remember feeling like a man. A real man. It’s my way of honoring her. She was a waitress for most of her life.”
“That’s beautiful.”
He smiled. “She was beautiful.”
“Wait. I thought you only had two sons.”
“Sweet girl, you aren’t the only one with skeletons in the closet.” He shifted and rested his elbows on the table. “Let’s talk about you.”
“I’d rather not.”
“I know firsthand what secrets can do to a soul. Maybe I can help.”
Probably not. “The other day, you said you knew what I did. What, exactly, do you think you know?”
“Rocky isn’t your son,” he said, his voice low so only I could hear. “I know you rescued him from a dangerous situation. I know Tango deserves to know the truth.”
A sharp pain pierced my gut. “I can’t tell him the truth. I’ll lose Rocky. I’ll go to prison. Or worse, if the truth comes out, if those bastards discover what I did, they will hunt me down and kill me.”
I didn’t know if Maurice was bluffing. Maybe he knew, maybe he only had an inkling of what had happened. Regardless, I continued, because I knew whatever I said would never leave the table, and I would never suffer that man’s judgment. “They tortured her for days before they dumped her body. She died because I pulled her out of that God forsaken place.”
Maurice curled his weathered fingers around my wrist. “She was dead the moment her mother left her with her uncle, with those devils. None of it was your fault. You tried to save her.”
“I don’t understand, Maurice. If you’ve known all this time, why didn’t you say anything?” I shook my head. “I killed Addy’s uncle.
I hit him with a baseball bat. He was going after Addy, and I lost it. I just swung, and he fell, and then I hit him again. And I wanted him to die, after everything he’d put her through.” I clamped my lips together, ashamed of the ease in which my confession poured out.
Maurice huffed. “Sweet child. Walter Reynolds is serving time at Crossroads Correctional Center. For extortion, I think. There was a big write-up in the newspaper a few years ago. If I remember right, Marta Rossi was a witness in the case.”
“What?” God, I needed to start reading the newspaper. “I didn’t kill him?”
“You’re not a murderer.”
I’d been so sure, but too scared to confirm, hoping to leave that horrid night behind me. Five years of guilt left my body in one long, hard sob. I buried my face in my hands and cried. Maurice’s warm arm slid around my shoulders. He scooted closer, tucked me against his chest, and held me while I purged five years of regret, fear, and anger.
I may not have been able to save Addy, but I saved Rocky. I gave him a good home. Grandparents. An uncle who adored him. I saved Tango’s child.
And he could never know.
I STARED, ONE MORE TIME, at the picture Tito had sent to my smartphone, and fought another wave of nausea. I’d bloodied a few faces in my day. It was unavoidable when you worked for Luciano. A rite of passage, some might say. Luciano had an unwritten rule about laying hands on women. It wasn’t tolerated, and that was one of many reasons I respected the man. However, what the Satan’s Slayers had done to Addison Reynolds made my faith in the human race waver.
On paper, the Slayers were no more criminal than the Voltolini Family. The list of crimes between the two organizations were comparable. What the bikers lacked was any sort of code. They’d beaten and tortured that poor girl past the point of recognition. Like a pack of wild dogs, they’d torn her apart, not to send a message, not to punish, but to unleash. They had crossed a line of sanity I couldn’t fathom. Her body had been found along Interstate 89, left like roadkill, three weeks after she’d given birth. Her murder never made headlines. No one had claimed her body.
I replayed my earlier conversation with Maurice over and over. He’d tried to tell me. How the hell had he known? He’d told me to ask my father about Addison, and I’d written him off as a crazy old coot. Fuck all, if Dad knew anything about this, I’d kill him. If he’d kept a child from me … I clamped my hands behind my head and paced back and forth in front of the door. I needed to calm the hell down. If I entered the house with guns blazing, someone would leave in a stretcher.
Rocky had to be my child. How had I not seen it before? That gorgeous little shit was the spitting image of me. My eyes, my hair, my damn throwing arm. I’d spent a whole fucking day with him. How could I not have recognized my own flesh and blood?
And Slade? That girl was going to talk. If I had to tie her down and torture the truth out of her, I’d do it. No more trying to be the old Tango. That boy was dead and buried under a shitload of secrets and lies.
I took three deep breaths before walking through the front door. I should’ve taken a few more. What I walked in on knocked the air clean out of my lungs.
My father and Kaylee held each other in a tight embrace. His lips were pressed to her ear. One hand rested at the small of her back, the other kneaded her ass.
Dad’s eyes lifted to meet mine, and he bolted upright, dropping his arms. “Son. You’re back.”
“You gotta be fucking kidding me. Mom hasn’t been in the ground more than a couple weeks, and you’ve got this baby in her bed? A goddamned child? She’s my fucking age, Pop. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Dad pushed Kaylee behind him. “Enough, Tango.”
Fury unfurled inside me, clouding my vision. I was done trying to keep my temper at bay. “How long have you been fucking this whore, Dad? Did Mom know? Is that what pushed her over the edge, you cheating piece of shit? Couldn’t keep your dick out of other women. No wonder Mom pumped her body full of pills.”
“Tango!” Kaylee stepped between us, placing a hand on each of our chests.
I shot her a warning glare and pointed to the door. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Eyes narrowing in protest, she huffed, “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Kaylee,” Dad chimed in. “Tango and I need to be alone.”
She dropped her arms and stormed out the door.
“You drove her to it. You know that, right? She knew about the women, Pop. All of them.”
“Enough!” he yelled. “Do you think your mom was perfect? She lived with her share of secrets too, son.”
“Let’s talk about secrets, Dad.” I stepped closer, daring him to back down. “Tell me what you know about Addison Reynolds.”
His face paled. “Who in the hell is Addison Reynolds?”
My hands balled into fists and my muscles coiled, ready to strike. “Aren’t you tired of the lies? Aren’t you sick and tired of the shit?”
I watched the fight drain from his eyes. Dad’s shoulders slumped. “I need a drink.”
I followed him to his office, shaking the tension out of my arms. He poured two glasses and handed one to me. “Tell me what you know.”
I slid my phone out of my pocket and pulled up Addison’s picture for him to see.
“Christ Almighty.” Dad blanched and fell into his chair. “She came to us claiming to be pregnant with your baby.”
“Fuck!” I threw back my drink. “And neither one of you bothered to tell me?”
“We knew she was lying. You’d been so smitten with Slade, we couldn’t believe you’d messed around with anyone else. Your mother told me she would take care of it.”
“Take care of it, how?”
“I didn’t ask. I let Marta handle it.”
“And that’s it?”
“No. Your mother confessed months later that she’d paid the girl’s uncle fifty grand to get Addison out of town. I only found out because he came back looking for more money. When I looked into the guy, I learned he was affiliated with a criminal organization in Montana. Bikers. I forbid your mother to have any more contact. We spoke with the authorities. Turned out, they were already building a case against him. He was arrested a short time later, for extortion, among other things, and your mom was a witness in the case.”
“Shit. Why would you keep that from me?”
“Your mom didn’t want you to know. Didn’t want you to worry.”
“And you turned a blind eye. Neither one of you followed up with Addison? No one cared enough to find out if she was carrying my child? What the fuck?” My head was about to explode.
“Son. Your mother said she had taken care of it. I had no reason to doubt her.”
Innocence by ignorance. How convenient. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to crush him.
Instead, I raised my empty glass in salute. “Congratulations, Pop. You are now responsible for the deaths of two women. Have fun living with that.” I dropped my glass on his desk and grabbed the bottle. Didn’t know where I was headed. Just needed to be far away from the man.
My legs guided me to our private dock out back. I pulled a long swig of bourbon into my body, stripped my clothes and dove in.
“I think you should go, Rocky.” She smiled up at me, teeth chattering, and threw a fake punch at my cheek.
I scooped up her towel and wrapped it tight around her body, dotting kisses over her wet hair. “It’s too far away from you.”
“It’s important.”
“I don’t want to go if you’re not coming with me.”
“You know I can’t leave Mom alone. I’ll stay here, go to State. It’ll be good for us. We’ve never been away from each other for more than a couple weeks.”
“I don’t believe it’ll be good for us any more than you do.”
She laughed. “Can’t you see I just want you to follow your dreams? Don’t let me hold you back. I bet there’ll be a million different boxing gyms in Texas.”
“Not sure there’ll
be much time for boxing. I’ll be too busy with football.”
“I’ll be here. I’ll always be here, waiting. You know that, right? Just promise me you’ll come back. Promise me you won’t fall in love with some horny freshman and forget about me.”
I cupped her cheeks and forced her lips open with my own. God, I’d never get enough of her softness. “You are my heart and soul. There will never, ever be another girl for me. It’s always been you. It will always be you. I promise.”
“Tango?”
“Yeah, babylove?”
“Have you danced today?”
“That’s my girl.” I laughed, dropped her towel, and scooped her off her feet. The moon cast a bright glow across the smooth water. I spun Slade across the dock and kissed her hard, dancing to the beat of waves lapping against the rocky shore.
She didn’t know it yet, but I was taking her with me. Wherever I went. Because wherever I traveled, if Slade Mason was by my side, I was home.
Home didn’t feel like home without Rocky. I tried settling on the couch with a good book, but the house was too damn quiet. I tried reading through the contract Carlos Rossi’s lawyer had sent over. The numbers only blurred on the pages. I tried to focus, but my brain was a jumbled mess. All these years I’d believed I’d killed Walter Reynolds. The sick fuck was alive and kicking in a Montana prison.
He knew where I lived. And that was exactly why I needed to get the hell out of Dodge.
I ran to my computer and Googled the Satan’s Slayers. Bad news all around—hardened criminals and psychopaths. The list of charges against them over the past thirty years made me shiver, despite having witnessed their insanity firsthand. Rape, prostitution, drugs, murder. Extortion.
Next was Walter Reynolds. Aside from news articles highlighting his arrest and trial, I didn’t find anything of significance. One article mentioned the fact that he was affiliated with the Slayers. What that meant, exactly, I wasn’t sure.
Truck Stop Tango Page 15
