by Jessie Cooke
That was true. The Skulls and the cops had a long, negative history on the Southside. That’s why Kat was so confused about Dax and the Bradys being so tight. But she didn’t have time to think about that. She had to go get Dillon before the Sheriff picked him up or someone did call an ambulance—damn him! “Okay. I’ll be right there.” Kat ended the call and ran upstairs to the apartment. She got her leather jacket that was hanging by the front door, grabbed her riding boots and sat down on the floor to take off her heeled boots and slip on her riding ones. She was cussing Dillon the entire time. This shit was going to have to stop. She had better things to do with her life than babysit a drunk 24/7. She had started out of the bar when that bad feeling she’d had earlier returned. She went back over to the locked box under the counter, next to where she kept the sawed-off shotgun, loaded and ready to go. She unlocked the box and took out the weapon she’d bought in California after getting her concealed carry permit. The little .22 Mag had fixed sights and a rubber grip and it was easy to hide. She made sure it was loaded and then slid it down into her boot.
Finally, she grabbed her helmet off the hook by the front door of the bar and locked up.
10
It took her almost twenty minutes to get to the spot that Buzz had described. She could see his bike pulled off the side of the road, but she didn’t see him anywhere. She pulled her bike up next to his and turned it off, grabbing a flashlight out of her saddlebags before she stepped off. She pulled off her helmet and said, “Buzz? Dillon?” Buzz hadn’t been lying when he said the area was thickly wooded. The only sounds that she could hear were the chirping and scratching noises of the small woodland animals. At least she hoped they were small. “Buzz?” Suddenly, he stepped out from behind a tree, nearly giving her a heart attack. “What the fuck, Buzz? Jesus! Where’s Dillon?”
“Don’t get mad…”
“You son of a bitch! Dillon better be here.”
Buzz held up his palms. “He’s not, but he’s safe. I did find him walking along the side of the road and he asked for a ride to Bill’s place, so I dropped him off there.”
“Then what the fuck am I doing out here at three o’clock in the fucking morning?”
“I just wanted to talk to you…”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” She thought about pulling out the gun as he took a step toward her, but something inside of her wanted to see exactly what Buzz had planned for her that night. “If I had my gun on me, I’d shoot you.” As soon as he heard her say she wasn’t armed, he took a step toward her. She took one back.
“Come on, Kat. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want you to pay attention to me. From what I hear, you’re not all that picky. Why can’t I get some of that loving you’re famous for spreading around?”
“Because you’re a piece of shit for saying things exactly like that. I’ll bet you never fuck a woman more than once, do you? You might be halfway decent-looking and maybe even good in bed, but nobody is going to put up with your stupid mouth. I’m leaving and you can be sure Dax is going to hear about this.”
She turned her back on him and as soon as she did, she felt his hand on her shoulder. A tickle of panic formed in her stomach and she cursed herself for not already pulling out the gun. He was a lot bigger than her and they were in a secluded area. “Kat, please. I’m already in trouble with Dax this week. He’s pissed off at me for something that wasn’t even my fault…”
She shook loose of his grip, Luckily, he let her go. Spinning around to face him she said, “That’s another one of your problems, Buzz…you never take responsibility for your own shit. You’re always whining about it being someone else’s fault. I’m leaving now and if you ever try anything like this again…” She took a step away and again he reached out and grabbed her. This time, he put his arm around her waist and pulled her body up against his. She tried to get her leg up high enough to kick him in the balls, but he was holding her too tight. “Let go of me! I will fucking kill you.” He ignored her and the next thing she knew, his lips were covering hers and he was forcing his tongue into her mouth. As soon as it was there, she bit down.
Buzz cried out and stumbled backwards, letting her go in the process. “Ow! Fuck! You bitch!” Blood was forming at the sides of his mouth. Kat bent down and pulled the gun out of her boot as soon as she was out of his reach. “Jesus! You’re going to shoot me for trying to kiss you?”
“You were forcing yourself on me and I’d have every right. The cops probably wouldn’t even arrest me and Dax might just thank me for taking you off his hands.”
He was lisping around the pain in his tongue and the blood in his mouth as he said, “I’m sorry, okay? I just really like you.”
“That’s how you show a woman you like her?”
“Not just any woman,” he said, and tried to smile. “You’re different, Kat. I figured you liked it a little bit rough.” She aimed the gun at his chest and said:
“You figured wrong.”
Buzz sucked in a breath and said, “Come on, Kat. Please don’t shoot me. Please. I didn’t mean any harm. You just really turn me on…”
“Shut up.”
“Kat, please,” he said, desperately. He looked like he was about to cry and that made her sicker than his tongue in her mouth. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just please don’t shoot me.”
“Take off your clothes.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your clothes. Take them off, now!”
“Kat…” She moved the sights of the gun from his chest to his head. “Okay, fine. I’m taking them off.” She stood and watched as he took off his kutte and then his t-shirt underneath. He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and pushed them down to his boots.
“All the way off,” she said. With a sigh, he bent over and unlaced his boots and kicked them and the jeans off before standing back upright. “Shorts too.”
“Kat, please…”
“I want to see what it is you’re always offering me,” she said. “Maybe I’ll change my mind.”
The idiot actually looked like he might believe her. He pushed his shorts down. Kat wasn’t impressed. “So, what do you think?”
She resisted rolling her eyes at his shriveled-up member. “Kick those shorts off.” He did that and with the gun still trained on his head, she bent down and quickly scooped up his vest. She tossed it at him and said, “Put your kutte back on and go home.”
“What? What the fuck? No way!”
Kat moved the gun downward, toward where his clothes and boots lay, and took aim. She pulled the trigger and saw him jump out of the corner of her eye. “Put on the kutte and get on your bike, or the next one goes into that shriveled-up piece of meat between your legs.”
“You’re fucking crazy.”
“Yes, and I told you before that you didn’t want to find out just how fucking crazy I am.” He still didn’t move, so she took another shot. This time at his t-shirt, which was lying close to his feet.
“Fuck!” He scooped up his leather kutte and put it on. “What the fuck am I supposed to tell them, showing up like this?”
“I don’t care. Tell them whatever you want…just don’t fuck with me again.” While he scrambled to put on the vest, she took two more shots. He was mumbling about her being a crazy bitch while he climbed on his bike. She wished that she had another free hand to take out her phone and take a picture of him. He looked so ridiculous with his kutte on and his naked ass shining in the moonlight. She held the gun on him until he started the bike and took off, and after waiting to make sure he wasn’t coming back, she emptied the gun into his clothes, gathered them up, and went home.
Buzz could see Mercer in the guard shack as he approached the gate. He knew he’d have to explain himself to him, but he was hoping since it was so late, Mercer would be the only one. As soon as he got close to the locked gate, Mercer stood up and stepped out of the guard shack. He folded his arms, cocked an eyebrow, and waited for Buzz to shut off the bike before he said, “You want t
o start with why you didn’t come back with the rest of the guys, or why you came back without your clothes?”
Buzz could hear the tremor in his voice as he said, “I stopped to take a piss and got attacked.”
Mercer narrowed his eyes. “By who?”
“I don’t know. Some black guys with bandanas over their faces. They made me strip and then I got ahold of one and took him down but the other one started shooting so I took off…”
“They let you keep your kutte?”
“I grabbed it. I wasn’t leaving it with them. Fuck, Mercer, I’ve had one hell of a night.”
Mercer still looked skeptical but he said, “This is exactly why we’re on lockdown, and you’re not supposed to go anywhere without the other guys.”
“You can ask Brick. I just pulled off to take a piss. Before I could get back on the road, they showed up.” Mercer pulled his phone out of his pocket. “What are you doing? Who are you calling?”
“Dax. He needs to know about this. It’s a clear threat…”
“Come on, man. This is…fuck, it’s embarrassing. It’s my birthday, Mercer. Can’t you give me a break?”
“No, I can’t. I have orders to report anything unusual. You showing up buck-ass naked…is unusual.” He pressed a button and a few seconds later he said, “I’m sorry to wake you, Dax…but, we have a…situation.”
Buzz felt like he was going to have an anxiety attack. He was torn between shame and rage. He wanted to kill that crazy bitch. Dax was going to ask even more questions than Mercer had, and if he found out Buzz was lying…shit…men had disappeared off the face of the earth for less. But no fucking way could he tell the truth…could he? Maybe Dax would punish that stupid broad somehow if he did…? Doubtful. She’d lie and say he was trying to force himself on her. She needed that attitude fucked out of her, but even if she begged him now, he wouldn’t be the one to do it.
Mercer ended the call and said, “Come on inside. Dax will be here in a minute. Didn’t you have your gun?”
“It was in my saddlebags. They were between me and the bike when I turned around after taking my piss.”
“You didn’t hear them drive up?”
“No! Fuck, Mercer, you act like you don’t believe me.”
Mercer looked him over as he stood up off the bike and with a smile tugging at his lips he said, “You have to admit that if any situation is unbelievable, it’s this one.”
“Well, it’s the truth, and stop staring at my dick!”
Mercer laughed outright then and said, “Hell, I can’t even see it.”
11
Kat was working on the books for the bar when Dillon finally showed up the next day. She looked up at him and then went back to what she was doing. She hoped he would keep walking and just go upstairs and go to bed, but she should have known she wasn’t going to get that lucky. He sat down in the booth across from her. “Hi, Kitty-Kat. You mad?”
She put so much pressure on the pen in her hand that she crushed it. Ink poured out all over her fingers and the paper she was writing on. When she finally looked up at Dillon, the idiot smiled. “What the hell are you smiling at? First, you took off last night and left me here to handle shit on my own. Second, I’m sitting here trying to figure out how to keep this fucking bar open and keep paying your medical bills. It’s not adding up, Dillon. All my savings are gone. You never had any savings, and this bar isn’t making any fucking money. If it wasn’t for the money the Skulls paid me for that party last week, we wouldn’t even be able to keep the lights on. You’re going to have to go apply for government aid, that’s all there is to it.”
He chuckled. If she hadn’t just crushed the pen, she might have stabbed him with it. “I’m not accepting charity from the government. You know how this town is. The minute I walk into that office, everyone would know.”
“So fucking what? Who cares what they know?”
Dillon’s eyes flitted around the bar at the photos of him in his football uniform and the trophies up on the shelves. Looking back at her with sad eyes he said, “My reputation is the only thing I have left. I was big in this town. You should have seen me, Kat! I owned any room I walked into…”
Kat growled. “I’ve heard all the stories, Dillon. That was a quarter of a century ago. You don’t own shit anymore other than this shack we’re still calling a bar for some reason. You’re nobody. You may as well be nobody with some extra cash. Go apply for fucking aid!”
Dillon slammed his hands down on the table between them and stood up. “I’m nobody? I could have been…”
“Jesus, Dillon! Could have, should have…stop trying to live in the past before you ruin both of our futures!”
“Why did you come home?” he said, suddenly lowering his tone.
“What? You know why I came. You couldn’t handle this place and your illness….”
“And you hate me. You’ve hated me since you were seven years old. You still blame me for her death. That’s why you left and went to California in the first place. So why, Kat? Why not just stay out there and let me fail on my own? Did you just come back to watch that happen, to finally watch me die?”
Kat was the one to pound the table and stand up then. “Are you fucking insane? Have you not seen me busting my ass to keep this place running and using all my fucking money to pay your bills every time you need to go to the hospital? You think I’m doing all that with the hopes of watching you die? I think the alcohol has leached any good sense you may have had left from your brain.”
Dillon stared at her for a long time and Kat thought he was going to leave it at that. She was hoping…but of course, he didn’t. “I didn’t kill her, Kat.”
It all washed over her again. That night, the next day, the next few weeks. Damn him for bringing it up! “This isn’t about Mom!”
“Everything between us is about her. You got it in your head all those years ago, from listening to those cops, that I killed her. I loved your mother more than my own life. I could have never put my hands around her throat and…”
“Stop it!” Kat’s stomach clenched as she pictured what he was saying. Sometimes her visual imagination was too much. “I never said I thought you killed her. I told the cops you were there with me all night, didn’t I? Without me giving you that alibi, they would have convicted you with their circumstantial evidence. You might think you’d be more grateful.”
Dillon had tears in his eyes, and Kat thought about just turning around and walking out. She could stand fighting with him about everything else, but not this. Even eighteen years later, the emotions were still too raw. “I am grateful, Kitty-Kat. I’m grateful as hell to have you. But I’d rather be in prison than have you hate me and think I’d do a thing like that. I pray every day, still, that they’ll find him, the man who really took her away from us.”
“It’s been eighteen years, Dillon. If they couldn’t find him back then, they’re not going to find him now. Stop living in a fucking fantasy world. That’s your problem.”
“I still miss her,” he whispered as he dropped back down into the booth. He put his face in his hands and his elbows on the table and Kat could see his shoulders shaking. He was crying. Shit.
She tried to talk softer, but it was hard when she was so pissed off at him. “Dillon, she’s not coming back no matter what we do. We have to move on. You have to stop living in the past where you were the football player and she was the pretty cheerleader. For the past eighteen years, you’ve done that, and where has it gotten you? You have to accept that she’s gone and nothing…not even finding out who took her…is going to change that.”
He looked up at her with red eyes and tears on his face. “No, it won’t bring her back…but it would make my beautiful daughter stop looking at me like I’m a vicious murderer.”
Kat sighed and dropped back down in her own seat. “I don’t think you killed her,” she said, trying to sound convincing. Most of the time that was true. It was only late at night, on the nights she still had nightm
ares, that she dreamed about him wrapping his hands around her mother’s throat. Those nights she woke up screaming, and it took her days, and sometimes weeks, to be able to look him in the eye again. Dillon pretended to be oblivious to that, but obviously, he noticed. “I’m not mad at you about Mom. I’m mad at you for letting your whole life fall apart because you can’t stay out of the bottle. Maybe we should look for a rehab facility…”
“I’m not going to rehab. Imagine the talk!”
“So you’d rather be a pathetic old drunk until you die, than worry about people knowing you asked for help? That’s fucked up, Dillon. Who cares what people think?”
“I told you, Katrina. My reputation is all I have left.”
She laughed. She wasn’t amused, but she had to laugh to keep from crying. “Your reputation is already in the toilet, Dillon. Everyone in town knows you’re a pathetic drunk and when you drink yourself to death, they’ll all be at your funeral shaking their heads at what you could have been.”
“You spit venom as easily as you breathe. Where did I go wrong?” Kat opened her mouth and then closed it. She couldn’t take another minute of arguing with him. It was like talking to a brick wall, only one with emotions, and that was the part she hated the most. She went over behind the bar and picked up the box she had put there the night before. Without looking back at Dillon, she grabbed her helmet off the hook by the door and left.
“Kat, I can’t let you in with the box unless you let me look inside.” Kat was standing next to her bike at the guard shack outside the ranch. Mercer looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
“Don’t you ever get any time off to sleep?” she said, trying to distract him.
“I just took a two-hour nap while Hawk covered me. You’re lucky that old asshole took off before you got here. He won’t let anyone on the grounds unless they’ve been specifically invited, even someone like you who is always welcome. But…you can’t manipulate me with your pretty face, Kat. I have to look in the box, or you have to go.”
