Brain

by Candace Blevins

  “You running from the law, your family, or your man?”

  “A man. Not mine. Not anymore.”

  “You a cop?”

  “Nope.”

  “Get in the passenger side and we’ll discuss terms.”

  This would be the third time I’d been forced to sell my body to get out of a tight spot, and the RTMC would pay dearly for pushing me to it, though they didn’t know it yet.

  I climbed into the passenger seat and the guy said, “I’m Dave.”

  “Trinity. Where are you headed?”

  “Maryland, with a few stops along the way, in Knoxville and Lexington. What kind of trouble you in?”

  Yes! I’d put some stuff in storage in Knoxville so I could travel lighter on my way to Pigeon Forge. I’d be home free once I got to it. Identification, cash, credit cards, clothes, and contacts, so no one could talk about my damned eye.

  I shook my head and answered, “Nothing that’ll rub off on you for taking me. I got no phone on me, no way for anyone to find me.”

  “And nothing to barter with but your body? What happens when I get you to Maryland?”

  “I have a friend in Knoxville, if you can let me use your phone I can get her to meet us either where you get gas, or wherever you’ll be stopping to unload or reload or whatever. And the sex is me riding you, me on top. No missionary, no doggie.”

  He nodded towards his phone as he put the truck in gear. “Don’t want sex from you for the ride. Call your friend.”

  “I’ll need to email her, so I don’t wake her husband. He works swing shift and I never know if he’ll be home or not, asleep or awake.”

  “Whatever you gotta do.”

  I knew a credit card number by memory, and could use it to go online and order a cab to meet me wherever we’d be, but since Brain had my laptop, he’d have the number and would likely be watching it, so I’d wait until the last possible moment to order the cab.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Brain

  Duke didn’t think Ice would turn on the MC, but Gonzo convinced him she was mad enough, she might. He was also convinced the data she’d given him before he humiliated her had been good stuff, so the club went over it, modified their original plan where it made sense, and attacked the next night.

  I was in Knoxville, Ice’s last known location, in a hotel room watching all of her credit card and email accounts, hoping she was still here.

  I had an ear in the RTMC clubhouse, so I knew what had gone down, but I hadn’t answered Duke’s phone calls.

  However, when the president of the Atlanta RTMC called, I knew I needed to answer.

  “Talk to me, Brain.”

  “I’m sure you know the story, Bud. Nothing else to say.”

  “Never figured you for putting pussy above your brothers.”

  “I haven’t fucked her. She isn’t pussy. Not like that.”

  “Yeah. I know she grew up rich, turned her back on money, same as you. She’s also as smart as you, and a hacker. I get that ya’ll have a lot in common, but your brothers need you.”

  “It took me a week to catch her before, will take longer this time. I warned them they weren’t smart enough to keep her captive, but they thought they knew better. Stupid fucks.”

  “There’s no need to go after her, Brain. She helped make things right, all the data the Disciples got was destroyed, and they’ve learned once again it’s a bad idea to fuck with the RTMC. Let her go.”

  “No.”

  He sighed. “Okay. As far as I’m concerned, you’re still a member in good standing. You get in trouble in a city with a chapter, let me know and I’ll pave the way for them to help you. Duke’s pissed, and you’ll need to find a way to make things right with him, but you’re my brother and I want you to stay safe.”

  “Thanks, Bud.”

  I chased her through seven states before the trail disappeared and I was forced to go home, but I only went back long enough to pack my shit, sell my house to a new member, and officially rejoin the Atlanta RTMC. Bud sent me to help the new South Carolina chapter, and within a few weeks I’d brought them into the current century, and taught most of the men how to use the security I put in place. I also installed some new equipment for The Swan Queen, and trained her guys in how to use it.

  Once again, I found myself in the control room most of the time, which was fine with me because it also let me keep an eye on all of Ice’s accounts, just in case she checked one. I also kept track of the auctions, because now that she knew about them, it was only a matter of time before she worked a deal on her own for a new identity.

  After a few months, the South Carolina guys were fine on their own and I was back in Atlanta. I lived in the clubhouse, with most of my things in storage until I figured out what I was doing.

  Months after I’d last seen her, I finally saw activity I was certain was Ice bidding on a soon-to-be-available identity, and lucky for me, the dying woman lived just north of Atlanta.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ice

  The woman was eighty pounds heavier than me, and had been fat all of her life, so there were no skinny pictures of her. She looked enough like a fat version of me, I could easily pass for her if I claimed to have lost weight. Her driver’s license came due in two years, and with four years between renewals, she could’ve lost it since the last picture.

  She had one living brother, but they were estranged and she said it was likely he wouldn’t even realize she’d died. If he ever decided to look for her, she asserted he’d be easy enough to avoid. She worked in a high-end restaurant as a waitress, and one of the nurses in her oncology unit had suggested she go this route, so she could spend the last good months of her life enjoying herself.

  What must this woman think, when she discovered her identity, her life, was worth twenty-four thousand dollars?

  Technically, nineteen thousand, as the auction house charged ten percent, with a minimum of five thousand.

  I would spend more, though, as I’d be in charge of housing her once she was too sick to care for herself, as well as footing the bill for an auction-approved hospice nurse to make her final weeks as pleasant as possible, not to mention the off-books cremation. I’d only need a chin implant, reshaping my eyebrows, and a slight adjustment to my eyelids from a plastic surgeon, though — enough to alter my face to hide from the government, and not the extensive work needed to make me look like the other girl. Also, there would be no need for the fake accident.

  This woman’s identity hadn’t gone for much on the auction block because she had a horrible driving record, a dismal credit rating, over twenty thousand dollars in credit card debt, ten months left of a one year lease on her apartment, and she owed more on her car than it was worth.

  All of this would be mine once I took on her identity.

  However, her name was Harmony Alexis Johnson, and I loved the name Harmony. I also appreciated the common last name, as it would be easier to get lost in a sea of Johnsons.

  She lived in Kennesaw, Georgia, which was a lot closer to RTMC territory than I wanted to be, but it was far enough I shouldn’t run into them. Besides, Brain had walked away from the Chattanooga chapter — sold his house, spent some time with the Atlanta chapter, and then gone to Charleston, South Carolina. I’d had to ditch all my old identities and accounts in order to finally lose him, but he hadn’t gone on the road looking for me in months, and I hoped he’d finally given up.

  I sent money to repair Gonzo’s steering column, and I knew he’d gotten his car back. I also knew the RTMC had taken care of the Disciples. I’d sent Duke an email telling him I wouldn’t hold the RTMC to the deal to give me a new identity, and noted if I ever saw Gonzo or Bash again I’d make them pay for humiliating me, but as long as the RTMC stayed out of my life, I’d consider us square. I’d closed the email account as soon as I sent it, so I had no idea if he’d tried to respond or not. No one had come after me except Brain, though, and he’d been alone, so I hoped I was in good standing with
the MC.

  I’d researched Brain, extensively, once I was free and clear and had time to do so. His real name was Thurston Silas Alexander the Fourth, and he grew up in the sickeningly affluent Chevy Chase, Maryland. His grandfather was a Supreme Court justice, his brother is a senator, and his dad works so high up in the Treasury Department, I got the idea he actually runs the nation’s economy while the appointed cabinet position is just a media spokesperson and figurehead. I found conspiracy theorists who basically said if a President doesn’t do what the man wants, the economy takes a dive the next day, and continued on the same track until the President reversed his decision.

  Before he became Brain, Thurston Alexander had been accepted at all the top colleges, but he decided to take a year off and travel Europe, live a little. Something happened during his trip, and when he started college the following fall, he took ethics, rhetoric, and philosophy classes at Harvard, instead of the law classes his parents intended. It seems there was a big fight, they closed the purse strings, and he used the money he had in his account to buy a Harley and a cabin in the north Georgia mountains. He’d known how to hack since he was in junior high, and he perfected it and became Wulff.

  I grew up with money, and thought I was better off now, outside of the life of vapid consumerism. I still have plenty of money, but it goes towards living my life as an adventure, which for the past five years has basically meant trying to stay alive.

  It figured, though, the first guy who’d interested me in a long time had been my kidnapper and captor, and could never be anything more.

  He’d left some messages online for me, in places he figured I’d find — apologizing for the way I was treated and asking me to let him make it right. I hadn’t responded.

  At first, I’d been set on revenge — fucking them over, causing them pain, but I’d quickly decided I didn’t want them as my enemies, and had sent the email to Duke. I’d fucked them over with the Disciples, I’d been paid well, they had a reason to be pissed, and now the Disciples wanted a piece of me, but as far as I was concerned they could get in line behind the Russians and Homeland Security. Brain was the only person who’d managed to get close, and now that I knew how he thought, even he couldn’t find me.

  So now, I was ready to take on a new identity, move to an as yet undetermined city, and buy a restaurant under another of my identities. I’d hire my new identity on as manager, and within a few months begin the process of converting it to a nightclub. Eventually, it would become a male strip club, with my new identity running the place. With her credit history, I’d never pull off owning it. Not in the next ten years, anyway. My original dream had been to buy a horse farm one day, but Harmony Johnson had only ever been a waitress, and I didn’t need to do anything to alert the authorities her identity had been taken over by someone else.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Brain

  Harmony Alexis Johnson. It fit her. Or, it fit who she was becoming. Who I thought she wanted to become.

  I watched her from a distance, her hair longer, brushing her shoulders. She wore a casual sundress with Teva sport sandals, and was completely aware of the people around her, no matter how nonchalant she appeared.

  I could get into her hotel room, if I wanted, but if I was too heavy handed she’d run again. I needed to play this smart, let her come to me.

  I’d hacked into the auction house’s servers months ago, and watched for correspondence I thought might be from her. As a result, I now had the alias she was currently using, as well as the email address she’d used, which let me find her other email addresses and identities.

  I hacked into her hotel’s database, found which room she was in, and then got myself a room in a downtown Atlanta high rise across the street, hoping I’d be able to watch her.

  Yes, I’d gone so far past stalking, I was aware it was a problem. I didn’t care.

  She was on her laptop when I got into my room, and I considered the best way to approach her. Finally, I sent an email.

  I don’t mean you any harm, and I’m no longer with the Chattanooga RTMC chapter. I found the house where you were being held, and arrived to rescue you about twenty minutes after you rescued yourself.

  Has enough time passed for us to meet and have a meal as friends?

  I know you well enough to be certain you’ve probably learned everything about me by now, and you understand how much we have in common, besides our intelligence.

  When I walked away from my family, Duke brought me into the fold and became my best friend when I was alone in the world.

  However, he broke our trust, our friendship, when he took you away from me, and now I find myself alone again. I have my brothers in the Atlanta RTMC, sure, but… please, can we talk?

  I’ll be in Centennial Park by the Olympic fountains at noon tomorrow, and I’ll take you to whatever restaurant you want, either within walking distance, or on the back of my bike, if you’ll trust me enough.

  If you’d like to choose another spot, let me know and I’ll be there.

  I watched her open the email and read it, saw her body language go from fear, to anger, to interest, and finally to resignation.

  She paced the hotel suite five minutes before responding, “You can’t be serious.”

  How to cajole her without pressuring? I considered her body language and choice of words, and emailed back, “So, not enough time has passed? Shall I try again in three months? Six months?”

  No time at all before she answered, “What will it take to make you go away?”

  I smiled as I typed, “A couple of dates, complete with goodnight kisses? Enough to see if we’re compatible. I think we are, and I’m pretty sure you do, too. I’m sorry about the way we met, but I can’t change the past.”

  More pacing before she responded this time. She typed it and then paced some more, debating whether to send it. She backspaced, typed some more, paced some more. While I waited, I thought my heart would beat its way out of my chest.

  Finally, she sent it.

  “I need you out of my life. If having lunch will make you go away, I’ll be there. No kissing, and if you try to capture me you’ll regret it.”

  I read fast and then breathed in relief, and emailed back, “No funny stuff. I know I’ll have to earn your trust and I don’t intend to blow it right off the bat.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Ice

  Why the hell had I agreed to this?

  I’d taken my nail polish off this morning, and I was wearing fatigues and a tight, black t-shirt, with black hiking boots. Unwilling to cut my hair, I French braided it and tucked it under itself, so he wouldn’t realize how long it’d grown. Always conscious of the NSA’s facial identification methods, I left a hunk of hair free and allowed it to completely cover one eye. I could pull it away from my face once we were in the restaurant, but it would need to stay over my eye while walking down the street.

  I wore no makeup, and I had my hotel keycard, credit cards, ID, and some cash in my pocket. No purse or backpack to hassle with.

  I also had pepper spray, a fully charged taser, and my knife. I had no idea what I was walking into, but we’d be in a public place and I intended to be careful.

  My gut told me I’d be safe with him, but common sense told me I was an idiot for meeting him. I rationalized it by telling myself if I were to make a truly clean break, I’d need to get him to stop looking for me. Odds were, he’d figured out I’d go to the identity auctions sooner or later, and had found me through them. This meant he likely knew my new name, which meant if I intended to use the name for the rest of my life, I had to get him to back off and go away, because he’d always be able to find me once I began using Harmony’s identity.

  I’d hacked into the cameras around the park, and watched the area most of the morning. I directed the feed to my phone, and I kept an eye on it as I approached. Brain was there, waiting, and I didn’t see anyone else who appeared to be with him. If I’d thought other members of RTMC were there
, I would’ve aborted.

  I walked to within fifteen feet of him and stopped, unsure of what happened next, or even whether I wanted to be any closer.

  Brain is tall, but his presence is so much bigger than his physical body. I always feel as if there’s more than one of him, inside his body, though it makes no sense. Until I met him, I didn’t truly understand the term larger than life.

  With the kids running around and playing between us, it was doubtful he’d hear me, but I still said, “Hi,” because just standing and staring was awkward.

  He took four steps towards me and stopped, as if I were a wild animal he didn’t want to spook. His smile was gentle, and suddenly it took every ounce of willpower I owned to stand in place instead of turning and running.

  I crossed my arms, and realized how it looked as I did it, but didn’t care. I needed a barrier between us, something to protect my heart, and my arms were the best I could do at the moment.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice soft, but loud enough I could easily hear. “I’m sorry you’re so uncomfortable. What can I do to help?”

  “Go away and never contact me again?”

  He shook his head. “I want to get to know you better, want to hold you when you need comforting, and…” he took a breath and spoke with so much conviction, I could only stand and stare. “I need to be sure you’re safe. I know you can take care of yourself, and I know I failed you once and there’s no reason to trust me again, but I’ll never again put the club, or anything else, anyone else, ahead of you.”

  I shook my head and took the final steps to close the distance between us. “If I fuck you a few times, will that be enough? I need to get on with my life, Thurston, and I can’t do it if you keep popping up. I need to sever all ties to my old names, surely you understand?”