The Word of a Liar

by Beauchamp, Sally

  “May I come in?”

  “Of course.” Ellen ushered him inside. With trembling hands, she closed the door.

  Mad Dog stood in the foyer, glancing about as if he expected to get caught doing something illegal.

  Ellen swallowed. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “No. I’m not staying. I came because Tess was so worried about you. She said you’d gone to Rambo’s for dinner and when you got home, you couldn’t stop crying. JD got upset. It’s none of my business, and I shouldn’t be involving myself in a brother’s private life, but I told Tess I’d come and make sure you and JD were okay.”

  Ellen’s bottom lip trembled. She hugged the terrycloth robe she wore closer to her body. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. Her shoulders shook as she attempted speech, but only terrible sobs escaped. Misery made her light-headed. She fell into Mad Dog’s arms and sobbed into his chest.

  Mad Dog held her.

  “Shh,” he soothed. “It’s okay, Ellen.”

  “I saw them,” Ellen choked out. “Mason and Desi. He kissed her. I saw him kiss her.”

  Mad Dog sighed, smoothing his hand over Ellen’s hair.

  “I wrecked his bike.” Ellen pulled away and looked up. “I wanted to hurt him like he hurt me. He told me never to touch his bike, so I—”

  She hung her head.

  “What do you mean you ‘wrecked his bike’?”

  With one hand on her shoulder, Mad Dog turned her chin up with the other. His narrowed dark eyes bore down on her.

  Ellen bit down on her lip and then blew a puff of air from her mouth. She confessed her crime, watching Mad Dog’s face contort with shock and confusion.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it, but Mason hurt me so deeply. You don’t hate me, too, do you?”

  Mad Dog released her and then sat down on the bottom step. Shaking his head, he groaned. “What you’ve done…. It’s not good. It’s not good at all.”

  He threw up his hands. “I don’t hate you. But if you were a man, I’d tell you to get the hell out of town.”

  CHAPTER twenty-four

  Mason parked his truck across the street from Spider’s house. Earlier, he’d received a text from Mad Dog. Something had come up and church had been called. Since the Sons of Thunder didn’t have an official clubhouse, Spider’s basement served the purpose. Mason presumed it had something to do with the annual Thanksgiving benefit the club sponsored to raise money for local food pantries. By the number of motorcycles and vehicles parked along the street, Mason was late. He checked his phone: 6:45 p.m., fifteen minutes early. He verified Mad Dog’s text. He wasn’t wrong. Something was amiss.

  Mason stepped out into the balmy November night. A fluke of nature, the warm temperature made him wish he’d ridden his bike, but then he remembered. He shook his head to erase Ellen from memory but failed. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and strode up the walk. Blade stood watch at the door. Mason greeted him, but Blade didn’t budge.

  “Are you going to move?” Mason asked, irritated by the prospect’s impertinence.

  Blade’s Adam’s apple twitched. Droplets of sweat slid down his temples. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  “Spider said for you to wait upstairs until someone comes and gets you,” Blade said and dropped his gaze.

  Mason placed his hand on the door frame and leaned in on the frightened young man. “What’s this about?”

  “I don’t know, Rambo. That’s all Spider told me.”

  Blade looked up and sucked in his lips.

  Mason drilled him with his eyes. “Get the fuck out of my way.”

  Blade moved to the side.

  Walking into the kitchen, Mason went to the refrigerator and helped himself to a beer. He needed something to settle his nerves. Suspecting he’d been found out, Mason needed to formulate a plan. He had known the brothers would never approve of his deep involvement in Jack’s drug trafficking business, that’s why he’d been so closed mouth about going to work for the guy.

  Most of the Sons of Thunder were family men with legitimate jobs who rode motorcycles, liked to party, and bend the rules. When someone crossed them, they knew how to take care of business, but they didn’t go looking for trouble. Desi’s comment the other day had been correct. Not even Jack wanted to tangle with this group. He needed their protection. Mason knew the threat of retaliation from the Sons of Thunder might one day be the only thing keeping him alive.

  Standing by the basement door, he strained to decipher muffled male voices.

  “They’ve been down there for about an hour.”

  Dee Dee startled him. Mason hadn’t noticed her sitting at the kitchen table.

  “What did you do now, Rambo?”

  Mason went and sat with her. He smiled.

  “Hard tellin’, Dee. Seems like I’m always fuckin’ up.”

  Dee twisted her lips to the side and blew a puff of smoke.

  “You ought to quit.” Mason grinned. “It’s going to kill you one day.”

  Dee Dee nodded and then took another drag. “So you’ve said.”

  She looked him over with fierce scrutiny. The creases surrounding her mouth and eyes deepened. Mason realized Dee Dee knew why this meeting had been called, but she wasn’t going to tell him. Not even if he’d put his Glock to her temple. She smashed the butt into an ashtray.

  “Ellen told me what she did to your scoot.”

  Astonished, Mason took a drink of his beer. “She say anything else?”

  Dee picked up a pack of Marlboros, smacked the bottom on the table, and then pulled out a cigarette. She offered him the pack.

  He hadn’t smoked since high school, but he accepted. Holding the offering to his lips, Dee Dee ignited the tip. Mason sucked the toxic smoke down into his lungs, waited until tears formed, and then exhaled.

  Dee Dee lit hers. “Ellen didn’t tell me why she did it if that’s what you’re getting at. She said you’d have to do that. But Ellen did ask me to tell you she’d pay for the damages.”

  Mason chuckled. “That’s fucking terrific, but I can’t replace the paint job she destroyed.”

  “I warned you, Rambo, that Ellen wasn’t one of us, but you fell in love with her anyway. So now what you going to do?”

  “Nothing.”

  Dee Dee arched her brow. “But you love her and she loves you.”

  Mason took another drag off the cigarette and then slugged down the beer. Looking at Dee, he struggled to keep his voice calm.

  “Even so, I can’t forgive what she’s done. You know what a man’s bike means to him, Dee Dee. And if any of the boys found out I took her back, I’d be a fucking laughing stock. They’d kick my ass and then send me packing, and I’d deserve it for being such a pussy. Even you would despise me. It’s over.”

  Dee snuffed out the cigarette. “How bout a whiskey, Rambo?”

  She got up and returned with two glasses and a fifth of Jack Daniels. She poured a shot in each and then set the bottle between them. Picking up her glass, she held it up as if she were going to make a toast and then drank the entire contents. Eyes squinted, Dee smacked her lips and then looked at Mason.

  “I have to tell you something I’ve never told anyone. And if I find out you repeated it, I will hunt you down and slit your throat.”

  The look on Dee’s face made Mason a believer.

  “Why me?” he asked, uncertain he wanted to know Dee’s terrible secret. He rested his elbows on the table and twisted the butt into the ashtray.

  Dee sighed. “Because beneath all your bullshit, Rambo, I think you have an honorable heart.”

  She poured herself more whiskey and then pulled another cigarette from the pack. Bringing it to her lips, her hands trembled so profoundly she couldn’t light it.

  Mason took the lighter and held it steady.

  Dee Dee took a puff and then blew smoke from her nose. “My father was a member of the Riders of Rebellion Motor Cycle Club. I’m sure you�
�ve heard of them. It’s a one percenter club--the real bad boys.”

  “I know.” Mason took a drink of the whiskey.

  “My mom was a patched biker momma. She wore the property patch like a badge of honor. She loved the lifestyle, and she knew her place in it. The problem was she liked crank a lot and my father didn’t care much for working a real job.”

  Dee Dee took a long drag on her cigarette, watching the orange glow against the white paper as she inhaled.

  “Most days mom was usually as high as a kite by noon and dad would be at the club house, scheming how to make a quick buck or drinking and getting high until the early hours of the morning. On several occasions my brother and I were placed in foster homes.”

  Mason shifted restlessly in his seat. The cigarette had made him lightheaded, but hadn’t relaxed the strangling knot of tension twisting in his gut.

  “When I was seventeen, my mother died of breast cancer. Shortly after, my dad was convicted of some bullshit racketeering and drug dealing charges. Sentenced to ten years in prison, he asked the president to look after me. Short and stocky with hair covering his chest and back, Troll was a fitting road name.”

  Dee Dee flicked ashes from her cigarette.

  “Troll always liked me. Every time he’d see me, he’d make some comment about what a fine piece of ass I’d be. I grew up with guys like that, so I wasn’t put off by his remarks. Actually I was thrilled the president of Riders of Rebellion found me attractive. Troll took me under his wing, and Dad was proud as hell.”

  Mason watched Dee Dee stare up at the ceiling. Her eyes followed the smoke she exhaled. The tightness of her jaw made him drink his whiskey in a single gulp. This wasn’t going to be a happy story. Already anxious about what was going on downstairs, he felt like an acrobat walking a tight rope and watching it unravel with each step.

  Dee Dee continued in an emotionless voice. “I’d been with Troll for almost a year when I met Spider. He was a hang-around, waiting for a member to ask him to prospect. Spider wanted nothing more than to be a one percenter. He’d just turned twenty-one and rode a red chopper that he’d made from a Harley Fat Boy. It was a beautiful bike.”

  Smiling at Mason, Dee Dee’s face lit up like crystal fobs dangling from an elegant chandelier. “You should have seen the paint job on that bike, Rambo. It was something.”

  Rambo tried to smile back at her.

  “The moment I saw him straddling that damned chopper, I was crazy about him. He looked so hot! Back then his hair was a lot thicker, and every time the sun shone it turned a brilliant orange. I always thought the freckles on the bridge of his nose made him look sweet.” Dee Dee sighed.

  Mason chuckled, finding it hard to imagine Spider as hot, much less sweet. He poured them another drink.

  “We talked whenever we could. I didn’t dare pay too much attention. I knew if Troll got it into his head I was flirting, I’d be in some serious shit and so would Spider. But there was definitely an attraction, and no matter how brief, I had to talk to him.”

  Dee crushed out the cigarette she was smoking and lit another one, her hands trembling once again.

  “One night, there was a big party at the clubhouse, and Troll got really loaded. He accused me of holding money back I made as a waitress. From the wild look in his eyes, I knew I’d never convince him I’d done no such thing. He grabbed my hair and literally lifted me off the ground. Dragging me over to a room no bigger than a closet, he threw me inside. My head hit the wall and I landed on a mattress. Before the stars cleared, he slapped my wrists into shackles. I realized where I was and what he intended. I screamed until my throat bled. My mother had told me about the train room. When my parents got into one of their wild arguments, Dad would threaten to take her to the club and force her to pull a train. Troll punched me, splitting my upper lip and knocking lose a couple of my teeth. I remember him shouting, ‘Shut up, bitch! You make another sound and things will go a lot worse.’”

  Dee Dee stopped. Her whole body shaking, she closed her eyes.

  Mason grabbed her hand. “I don’t need to hear this.”

  Dee Dee shook her head. “Yes, you do, Rambo.”

  She gulped down the whiskey, folded her hand over his and continued. “When Troll left me alone in that dark room chained to the wall waiting for my punishment, I thought I was going to go crazy. He returned with three other men. My eyes were nearly swollen shut from crying.”

  Dee took a deep breathe.

  “‘Time to pay up bitch!’ He unbuckled his belt. ‘You hold out on me, you’ll earn your keep another way! Don’t you ever forget this, you fucking little whore!’”

  Dee Dee swallowed.

  “His voice was so cold. He looked like some kind of vicious animal. He tore my clothes off and hit me. One of the men unshackled my hands as Troll pulled me down on the mattress.”

  Dee’s thumb nail dug so deeply into Mason’s wrist, she drew blood.

  “They beat me and took turns raping me… forcing me to have oral sex… sodomizing me.”

  She let go of Mason, covering her face with her hands, and then slowly slid them down to her chin, propping up her face. She spoke from some far off place. “Their sweat and semen was all over me. In my hair… on my face.”

  A sob forced her to stop. She lit another cigarette.

  “When they were done with me,” Dee whispered, “Troll told me he was going to keep me there and sell me to anyone who was willing to pay. When he closed the door, leaving me in the dark, it wouldn’t have mattered how many guys came for me. I was dead inside. My body was beyond hurting and the smell of those men filled the room until I thought I was going to vomit. I couldn’t cover up, because Troll had chained my hands again. I remember huddling up against the wall and staring at the thin line of light creeping under the door, waiting.”

  Dee wiped tears from her cheeks.

  “I lost consciousness because when I awoke I could only hear a few voices. The party had evidently broken up, and I suddenly realized Troll might not let me out. I banged my fists against the wall and screamed, hoping beyond hope I could free myself or someone would let me out, even though I knew no one would defy Troll. My struggling only made the cuffs bite deeper into my wrists. Finally, I quieted down.”

  She took a deep breathe.

  “I don’t know how long I was there before the light coming from under the door broke into a wide triangle and the door swung open. I couldn’t tell who was standing in the threshold, but I knew it wasn’t Troll. The figure was too tall and slim.”

  She took a drag from her cigarette. Mason reached for the bottle of whiskey and slugged it down until his throat burned raw. He set down the bottle, hoping the euphoric potion wouldn’t take long to kick in.

  “The light hurt my eyes. Swollen from crying and the beating I got, it was difficult to see. I scrambled up against the wall, thinking I’d have to endure another man pawing my body… another rape. The man moved into the room and came to me. Not saying a word, he knelt and unlocked the shackles with a small key. Kissing the top of my head, he started to sob. I’d never heard a man cry like that. I knew immediately it was Spider.”

  Dee Dee swallowed. Tears rolled down her face. The ash from her cigarette fell on the table. She rocked back and forth like a disturbed, forgotten woman who’d been locked away in an asylum’s cell.

  “I can’t tell you, Rambo, how hard I grabbed on to that poor man. It’s a wonder I didn’t break his neck. Suddenly I got scared. If Troll knew what Spider did, he’d kill him. I told Spider to lock me up and go. Spider said he’d made a deal. Overhearing Troll trying to sell me, Spider approached him and asked how much it would cost to buy me for the rest of the night. Spider’s never told me the price.”

  She glanced at Mason and then stuffed the remainder of her cigarette into the ashtray.

  “Troll accepted the offer. Spider came in, but I was unconscious. He sat in the room making sure no one else would touch me. Then as the party wound down, he left to pr
oposition Troll.”

  Mason stirred restlessly again in his seat. He picked up the pack of cigarettes and pulled one out, and then began tapping the filtered end on the table. Rattled, he tried to decide whether to light it or not.

  “Shortly after, I must have come around because Spider and Troll heard me screaming for help and my hands pounding against the wall. Troll told Spider he couldn’t believe a woman as small as I was could take on five guys and still have the stamina to fight like a wild cat. Spider had a pistol and he’s told me how close he came to using it. Spider asked Troll if he’d be willing to sell me to him, but Troll didn’t want to give me up. He said he had an obligation to my father, and since Spider wasn’t a member he couldn’t. And then Spider did something I can’t fathom any biker doing for anyone, much less a woman. He offered Troll his beautiful chopper for me.”

  Dee dropped her head.

  “That bike was Spider’s pride and joy. With his own two hands, he’d turned that old Harley into a show piece.”

  Dee Dee shook her head and then looked at Mason.

  “Troll couldn’t refuse an offer like that. They exchanged keys. When Spider walked over to the door to get me, Troll threatened to stick a flagpole up his ass and tie me naked to the bottom if we were still there when he got back from taking a scoot on his new motorcycle.”

  Dee blew a puff of air, lifting auburn curls that dangled across her right eye. Mason arched his back against the wooden slats of the chair.

  “That’s when Spider rescued me from that horrid room. He covered me with his shirt and then carried me to a nearby gas station. I was hurting so bad, I didn’t even think why we weren’t riding Spider’s bike. He called his dad. When Ray Mullen Senior picked us up, he didn’t ask questions, but he told Spider they should take me to a hospital. I didn’t want to go, but Spider was so worried. My lip needed stitches and God only knew what the inside of me was like, so they took me. We made up a story that I had been accosted by some men on my way home from the restaurant saying their faces were covered so I couldn’t identify anyone or where it happened.”

  Dee raised her eyebrows and shook her head.