Berserk

by K. S. Adkins

  Catching his breath and surveying the damage he stands in the middle of the room and throws me a curve ball. By that, I mean he turns his anger toward me. “Enough?” he says, yelling. “Who the fuck are you to say when it’s enough?”

  “Max, my man,” says Bishop. “Now probably ain’t the best time for this.”

  “Fuck that!” he yells, looking only at me. “It’s always about what you want, your rules! You keep shit from me! My father, the club, and my fucking baby! You stayed when I told you to go! You were hurt because of me! Now you have to go back and lose everything else because of me, too? I told you to use what you had, let me go down if I had to, but you can’t even let me take the heat like a fucking man, can you? No, not you, Jules. You’re going to take the heat for me. Tell them, tell your team what you did.”

  Completely speechless, I sit there hardly able to breathe. Don’t do this, Max I think to myself. Do not fucking do this to me. “Not going to share with the group?” he asks, looking at my confused team. “Your Boss here decided to destroy everything she had on Hank and me. She probably didn’t mention that, did she?”

  “Red,” says Duffy. “You didn’t, tell me you fucking didn’t.”

  “Boss,” says Bishop. “No evidence? Nothing? We could have protected him, fuck, you knew that.”

  “I couldn’t take that risk,” I whisper, staring at the floor.

  “All this for a guy who threw you away?” asks Saint. “Jail time, it’s a real possibility, Red. You know that.”

  “Yes.”

  “Unfuckingbelieveable,” says Jumbo. “All this rogue bullshit and you destroyed everything? For him? What about us, Boss? Did we even factor in? I see what you’re doing, knowing you may not get put away. You were gonna come back here and finish this without us, weren’t you?”

  “I did what I did so I was the only one responsible,” I say quietly, leaving the room to pack. “I did this, I’ll pay the penalty. Not you,” I say, looking at Max. “Not any of you. You guys need to pack too, we fly out in the morning.” I finish looking at each of my guys.

  “We are a god damn team, Red!” yells Saint. “We go down together! We knew the score when we came here!” When the guys each nod in agreement, I can’t take anymore.

  “I’m doing the right thing,” I whisper. “For everyone.”

  Not waiting to hear anything else I take the steps slowly, walk into Max’s bathroom. Locking the door behind me I sit on his toilet and cry silently into my hands. One day I tell myself, one day they’ll thank me for this.

  For now, though, I take two more pain pills, packed my bags, and was out the door in minutes, taking my team with be but leaving my heart with Max. When the door closed behind me, Max didn’t come for me.

  Ask me if I was surprised?

  “I’ve got one break left in me, Max, and it’s happening right now.”

  Calling her out like that was a dick move, even for me. We haven’t had two seconds to work through any of this, and it all came on so fast I couldn’t stop it. I’m not handling any of this well, I know that. Having enough of getting dirty looks from everyone in the room, I go into the kitchen to grab a beer, because it’s five o’clock somewhere, and then I’m stuck with a face-to-face with Eric. Grabbing a cold one, twisting the cap, and heading out back again, I sit down while he takes the spot next to me.

  “I was trying to make it right,” he says, crossing his legs. If I’m being honest, I get where he’s coming from. The second I found out what Hank was doing I was trying to make it right, too; I just went about it all wrong. I have money, not a lot, but I’m guessing more than Eric does. Would I do the same if I was in his position? After the shit I’ve pulled with my own wife, who’s to fucking say?

  “Yeah,” I say, handing him the bottle. “I was, too.”

  “I’m going to say something about her so don’t hit me for it,” he says, taking a swig and handing it back. “I won’t use her as bait. Not that I don’t think she wouldn’t pull through, because she would. It’s just that she spared me when she didn’t have to. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I did what I could to keep her safe. Whatever or whoever comes for me, I’ll fight, but I’ll do it alone. You know, she wasn’t afraid, not once. But when that thing went off she was screaming for you. Just thought you’d wanna know.”

  Standing up he walks back in without another word. “Shit.” I say to myself. She was screaming for me…

  Not having a door is problematic, especially when you can’t hear the person approaching. I do not need these two right now; I just wanted five minutes to torture myself in peace.

  “Yo, Max,” says Rafe. “Why’d you do that, man? Hoping you got a good reason, because Macy don’t like it when I hit the disgruntled.”

  “I’m not even correcting you on this one just shut it, Rafe,” says Rogan. “I’m sure he has a real good reason for calling his own wife out, don’t you?”

  “No,” I say, looking at them both. “Not really.”

  “Thinking you do,” says Rogan. “Thinking you don’t want your wife losing her job or getting three hots and a cot with the general population, neither. That would be federal prison wouldn’t it? Fuck. Gotta tell you, though, I could come up with at least five different ways I would have done that different.”

  “Five?” asks Rafe. “Fucking show-off, I came up with two.”

  Before I can speak, Rogan continues. “One,” he says, holding up his fingers and counting down. “I’d have found her boss’ number and called his ass. Two,” he says, “Duffy, three, Bishop, four, Saint and five, Jumbo. But he could be six, seven, and eight, too. Big fucker.”

  “What were your two, Rafe?” I ask him, standing up.

  “Mine? Oh easy, I’d have one, ran with her to Canada because it’s like right there you know? And two, I’d have fucking stayed there.”

  “I thought guys were protective. Thing about women is they may be a little more overprotective than we are,” says Rogan. “They think with those hearts they got. Guessing that’s why she took her team and that cop with her when she left. You know, broken heart and all. Didn’t know about the baby, though; real fucking sorry to hear about that.”

  “Left?” How the fuck did I miss them all leaving? She must have bolted the second I walked outside. Couldn’t get away from me fast enough I guess.

  “Did I forget to mention that part?” he asks, shrugging. “Sorry.”

  “Was that sarcasm, partner?” asks Rafe. “There’s help for you yet.”

  “Hope, you dumbfuck,” he growls. “Hope.”

  While those two argue over Rafe’s lack of vocabulary, I run through the house, and when my eyes land on Macy and Venessa looking seriously pissed, I know it.

  She is gone, again.

  “I bought this house for us. See right there is your name,” he says, showing me the deed. “It’s just a house right now, but if you stay we could make it a home together, Blue.”

  What a crock of shit.

  The following weeks back in DC were a blessing and a curse. A blessing because, here I knew where I stood. Here, I knew who I was and exactly what I did. A curse because I left my heart back in Detroit, and when this is over I’m going to lose pretty much everything else. So was the sacrifice worth it? Absolutely. Is the war over? Not even close, but if I have my way I’ll contribute from a distance. I called Eric to check on him, too. Last I heard he was none too happy to be rooming with Bishop, but a guy could do worse.

  Last week I followed up with my OB here and she told me I was healing well and that even with the scar tissue, she saw no reason that I couldn’t have children in the future. Children, yeah, I don’t see that happening any time soon.

  Yesterday was another round spent with my boss and his bosses, otherwise known as the panel. They can make or break you, but lucky for me the small amount on intel I did keep was enough to clear my guys of any wrongdoing. Me, though? Not so much. I was suspended from the DEA and was no longer an employee of my United States governmen
t.

  When Max outed me, I could have shared that I kept some things, but I hadn’t. Had they known I kept any evidence they would have faced the panel with me, and we’d all be looking for work. My guys needed this; I didn’t, not anymore. Even Mack, my boss, did everything he could to keep me active, but in the end my actions spoke for me. I took my licks and kept on going. So this morning while packing up what little I had in my apartment, I was loading my car when Lina called.

  “What?”

  “Saved the day, lost your man, your job, and moving on? You sure stay busy.”

  “You know me,” I tell her. “Always looking ahead.”

  “I do know you,” she says. “Where are you headed?”

  “Just across town,” I say. “Since I’m no longer employable, Uncle Sam doesn’t want to pay for my room anymore, cheap bastard.”

  “So,” she says. “Since you are unemployed and not likely to sign up for a sewing circle, I’m going to need you to come back home.”

  “No.”

  “I wasn’t asking,” she says. “Wait? Did it sound like I was? You wanted me to help, I did. I also betrayed a lot of fucking people to do it so. March that sassy ass back home and call me when you get there. We have work to do.”

  “When you do come home,” I say, “is he coming with you?”

  “Depends. Do you still love him, Jules?”

  “No.”

  “For once you and I are in agreement. Now call those nagging bitches back, would you? They keep blowing up my shit,” she says, laughing. “See you soon.”

  Disconnecting, I can’t help but smile at the thought of seeing her again, oh, and meeting him. I’m not quite ready to call the girls yet though. Listening to them harp on me for leaving without talking to Max isn’t high on my list of things to do today. The betrayal in his eyes is why I left without asking where we stood. He’s right. I did betray him in a sense, I suppose, but I kept my promise. He was safe.

  Opening my phone up I see Lina has already sent me the confirmation for my flight back to Metro. Calling the Westin to book another room, though, that just depressed me further. Jesus, no matter what, Detroit will always suck me back in; he will always suck me back in. Sending the guys a text, we agree to meet up for one last hoorah so I can kiss them all goodbye, at least for a little while.

  I owe them that much, at least. Since being back I’ve kept to myself not sharing any of the investigation or my dismissal. If I’m being honest, I’m hiding because I’m depressed. Now that I’ve lost everything I have no idea what to do next. Since I was eighteen my future was mapped out for me. I did what I was told to do, and for the most part I liked it that way. Even the short time I was back in Detroit, I formed new habits and stronger attachments to him, my friends, the city itself, and now I don’t have that either and I’m stuck.

  Meeting with the guys will be good for me, I know it. Now if I can just convince my heart what my head is telling me, I’ll be in good shape. Thing is, going home again terrifies me, because I’m not strong enough to face whichever version of Max I might get. Not that I have any real reason to see him, but we share the same group of friends, so it’s bound to happen.

  These weeks away gave me time to sort a few things out. Not everything, granted, but some. Fact is, I love him just as much now than I ever have, and to know he’s moving on without me isn’t a reality I can face right now. I still can’t figure out why he was so up and down about us and why I was always willing to leave. Maybe we’re both cowards, or maybe in the end we just weren’t meant to be.

  Bottom line is, I’m vulnerable, and I don’t know what I can do to protect myself. I have no shield. If Lina says it’s time to come back, then there’s good reason. However, in her usual way, she doesn’t give away any useful information and she won’t until I show up and she decides to spill. In the meantime, I have to run my meager belongings over to my new apartment and then meet my guys. I tell myself to enjoy my time with them and not think of Max, but even I know when I’m full of shit. In fact, I’m so full of shit if I looked in the mirror my blue eyes would be brown.

  “I’m done calling your ass,” I growl into my phone. “One day you’re going to need me, and I’m going to tell you to fuck off. My wife went back to DC, Tony. Do you have any fucking idea how I feel right now? It’s my fault she’s even there. She’s been taken, drugged, tranqed and on breathing machine because of me. All that shit happened to protect me and that god damn club. I needed your fucking help!”

  When his voicemail tells me to press one, I throw it down and walk away. Several hours later, I make a few phone calls and get lucky when Venessa agrees to give me the number I need.

  There’s nervous, and then there’s nervous. Both Macy and Venessa had texted me to tell me she won’t return their calls, but that they won’t give up on stalking her. Having no choice but to be content with that, I finish up the final touches on cleaning my house, and just before I am ready to punch a wall my phone rings.

  “Hello?” I say, sounding like I ran ten miles.

  “Her flight number is 1737, arriving at 2:25 p.m. tomorrow,” she says. “She will be looking to grab a cab and head to the Westin. Now, I have it on good authority you love my best friend.”

  “I do,” I say, breathless. “So fucking—”

  “Yeah, whatever,” she says, cutting me off. “If this blows up in my face in return I’m going to blow up your face, just so we’re clear. I don’t like it when she’s sad, Max. Thing is, around you she tends to be disgustingly happy when you’re not ruining shit. 2:25, Max. Oh! Now that she’s a civvie she won’t be armed, but don’t think if she decides to destroy you that she’ll need guns for it.”

  “Thank you, Lina,” I whisper. “I can’t tell you how much—”

  “Jesus,” she says. “I thought she was kidding when she said you had feelings. For god sakes, man, turn off the sap tap.”

  When she hangs up on me I laugh for the first time in a long time. Throwing my fist in the air I send everyone a simple group message.

  Tomorrow, 3 p.m., you know the place

  The rest of the day goes by quickly now that I’ve got something to look forward to. No, not something, someone. Making myself a quick dinner because I have so much more to do, I sit down taking in the home I bought for us, looking around at the newly cleaned space, anxious for her to fill it. But then in the quiet, Lina’s words register. “She’s coming back as a civvie” Closing my eyes and swallowing hard, I realize she lost her job. The weight of that is crushing, but I can’t afford to focus on it that now. I have something else to do.

  “Yo.”

  “Did you get my text?” I ask, biting my nails. Shit, until two days ago, I never bit my nails.

  “Yep.”

  “Is everything ready?”

  “Let’s see,” she says. “Pretty sure everything is ready. I’m still waiting on the shipment of Kevlar, but I clicked the button for overnight delivery, so we should be solid.”

  “Kevlar?”

  “Yes, Kevlar,” she says. “You know, K-E-V-L-A-R. Little slow on the uptake, Max.”

  “Why would you order Kevlar, Venessa?”

  “In case she opens fire,” she says. “Duh.”

  After she hangs up on me I scratch my head wondering what the fuck possessed me to give her my credit card, but then reminding myself if this pans out, I didn’t give a shit about Kevlar.

  Jogging up the steps to grab a shower, I hear a banging on my door, then jog back down. Until she came home I never had a single person here. Since she’s been back, my door might as well stay open, I get so much company. Truth? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Max!” says Macy, bouncing in with Rafe behind her. “Did you talk to Lina?”

  “Yes,” I tell her. “Her flight comes in at 2:25 tomorrow.”

  “Woot! Did you talk to Venessa?”

  “I just hung up with her.”

  “She tell you about the Kevlar?” asks Rafe, stretching out my couch
.

  “Yeah,” I say. “Is Kevlar expensive?”

  “Fuck yeah, it is,” he says. “Times are tough, you know; we’ll just treat this as an early birthday gift.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter. “Happy Birthday.”

  “Thanks, man!” he says, smiling and giving Macy a fist bump. “Oh, and I may have ordered two. Well, we may have all ordered two. Better safe than shot.”

  “Captain!”

  “What?” he asks. “You know you wanna see me in Kevlar.”

  Looking back to me she mumbles, “Sorry, Max.”

  Rolling my eyes, I settle in to several more hours of those two bickering, a pizza delivery, and a surprise visit from Venessa and Rogan. A part of me knows why they’re camped out here; they know it’s tough for me to be alone. The other part is so god damn grateful I’m afraid if I express it I’ll break down, and I can’t bitch out in front of these guys, ever.

  Finally, when house is clear, I clean up and surprisingly enough fall asleep easy. Tomorrow has me nervous but, for the first time in my life I’m not listening to anyone but myself.

  And it felt good.

  My first mission was observation and recovery. Loading up, I remember being equal parts excited and terrified. Bishop was next to me, way too pumped for my taste. Nothing scared that boy. As for me, I had a husband to think about. But the second that HH-60G Pave Hawk took off, I found myself eager to have something to share with Max when I got back on US soil. Rappelling, as I was taught was equal parts exhilarating and piss-your-pants terrifying. I’d take this over being confined to a seat any damn day, especially when my feet hit ground. Securing my line, I follow my coordinates and hunker down. Looking around I smile to myself, knowing that despite the fact I don’t see him as much as I’d like, for me the Army, like Max, was the right choice.