He Doesn’t Care_Fourstroke Fiends MC
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Carey moved closer until she could hear them, taking cover behind a large dumpster.
“… think you can just roll into my fucking city like you own the goddamn place?” demanded Owen, his booming voice carrying down the small side road.
“Your fucking city?” said one of the men from the other group. “Who the fuck says this city’s yours?”
“I did,” said Owen. “When I ran the Hellcats out of here. And if you think you and your shithead little crew can just roll in and start working my city, then you’ve got another goddamn thing coming.”
“You’re all talk, Flynn,” said the man. “Just like your fuckin’ boys that we put in the hospital an hour ago.”
Carey watched as Owen moved close to the man, only a foot or so away. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched. Glancing over to the side, she spotted another, closer dumpster. Taking a deep breath, she hurried behind it. Now she was close enough to see the expressions on the men’s faces.
“Say that one more time, shitbird,” said Owen. “Say it one more fucking time and watch what happens.”
The other man wasn’t backing down.
“You should’ve heard those little pussies of yours scream and cry while my boys beat the shit out of them. Can’t wait to hear the same sounds come out of your mouth, bitch.”
He didn’t have a chance to say anything else.
Owen swung a hard, arcing punch fist through the hair, connecting with the man’s jaw. A sick crack sounded out, and the man stumbled backward and fell right onto his ass, blood pouring from his mouth and nose.
“Fuck!” the man shouted. “Kill these fuckers!’
The man’s crew burst into a run, rushing towards the Fiends. A fight broke out within seconds, fists knives, and chains flying through the air and connecting with faces and bodies. Carey watched the melee in shock, unprepared for the brutal violence she was now witnessing. Her eyes locked onto Owen, and she watched as he moved deftly through the fight, throwing punches here and there, deflecting blows, and carving a path through the other side. He punched another man, sending him crumpling into a heap. Carey couldn’t believe how calmly and effortlessly he dealt out violence; it was a side of him that she’d never seen, but always had feared lurked within him.
Eventually, the Fiends overtook the other side, the men scrambling away. The first man had been beaten soundly, and Owen stood over him, a thick black chain dangling from his hands, the rest of the Fiends a half-circle behind him.
“I’ll tell you one more time because I’m such a nice guy,” said Owen. “Get the fuck out of my city.”
The man said nothing for a moment. Then, he spit a mouthful of blood onto Owen’s boot.
“Fuck you.”
Owen shook his head sadly as he raised the chain over his head. Carey’s eyes went wide and before she had a chance to react, Owen swung the chain through the air, the heavy metal connecting with the side of the man’s face. Carey watched in horror as a rope of blood sprayed out from the man’s face and onto the pavement. The man fell to his side, squirming and screaming in pain.
“Fuck!” he shouted, his voice muffled form the blood in his mouth. “What the fuck!”
Owen then took the chain into both of his hands and held it in front of the man’s face.
“You know what?” he said. “I must be an even nicer guy than I thought—I’m gonna give you one last, final warning. Now, are you assholes gonna get on your little crotch rockets and get the fuck out of my city, or are we all going to have to have a lesson in just what kind of damage a chain can do to a man’s skull?”
The man’s chest rose and fell with panicked, frantic breaths.
“Fine!” he shouted. “We’ll leave!”
“Smart man,” said Owen, tossing the chain to the side. “Now, say you’re sorry.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I was about to have a nice dinner with my girlfriend, and instead I have to be here, dealing with your stupid ass. So, say you’re sorry.”
“S-sorry!”
“And I’m sure it goes without saying that you’ll be financially compensating my crew for what you did to my boys. Right?”
“Right!”
“Great. Now get the fuck out of here.”
The men scrambled to their feet and hurried off, leaving Owen and his crew alone.
Carey knew that this was her chance to get out of there without being seen. Turning back towards the main street, she took off into a sprint while Owen’s attention was occupied. Soon, she was back behind the wheel of Lily’s car, tears in her eyes as she jammed the key into the ignition.
Once back on the road, Carey burst into wracking sobs. She couldn’t believe what she’d seen, the violence that Owen was capable of. All she could think about was how a man who was able so blithely inflict horrible injury on anyone who crossed his path was the father of the child growing in her belly. She envisioned nightmare scenarios of giving birth to a son, Owen raising him to turn into nothing more than a criminal thug like his father.
All she wanted was to get as far away from Owen as possible, to put him behind her and never come back. But there was no leaving her pregnancy behind. She knew she’d made the mistake of a lifetime, and how she’d pay for it, she’d only learn in time.
Chapter Ten
Carey
The last week of her time in Holyoke passed without incident. Carey avoided Owen as best she could. Whenever he texted her, she simply told him that she was busy with her internship and work and that she’d be able to see him again when things quieted down. Little did Owen know, however, that Carey was nearly done with her time in the city, and that if she had her way, she’d never see him again.
The scene of violence wouldn’t leave Carey’s thoughts. Nearly every time she closed her eyes, she pictured Owen standing over the beaten man, the heavy black chain dangling from his hands. She could hear the whoosh of the chain flying through the air, followed by the sick crack of the metal against bone. The spray of dark red blood against the dirty gray concrete lingered in her mind like a snapshot that she couldn’t shake from her thoughts.
“Where’s Owen been?” asked Lily as they finished packing their last few things and tidying up the apartment before turning the keys over. “Haven’t seen him in a little while.”
“Um, I’ve just been busy,” said Carey, itching to get in Lily’s car and back home. “And he’s had, um, motorcycle club things going on.”
Lily raised an eyebrow.
“Have I ever told you what a bad liar you are?” she asked.
Soon after, the car was loaded up with their belongings and they were back on the road. As they turned onto the on-ramp to leave the city, Carey felt her phone buzz in her pocket. Pulling it out, she saw that it was a text from Owen.
Been too long, kid. When am I going to see you again?
Without thinking, she blocked his number and shoved her phone into her pocket before turning her attention back to the passing landscape. She knew that she was only kicking the can down the road, but it was all she could think to do. Placing her hand on her belly, she felt the small bump that had been forming over the last couple of weeks, her mind racing with just what to do. She knew that if she didn’t play her cards right, she’d be a single mother. And for a girl from a family like hers, that simply wasn’t an option.
After a long, tiring drive, Lily pulled in front of the large, colonial-style home where her parents lived.
“Sure you don’t want to grab a burger or something?” asked Lily. “You look stressed out of your mind.”
“I think I just need some sleep,” said Carey. “Been a long day. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
The girls hugged, and soon Carey was alone with her bags.
Then, the large double doors of the home opened and Carey’s parents stepped out.
“There she is!”
Carey’s parents were both trim, silver-haired, and dressed in stylish casual wear, the picture of a successful mid
dle-aged couple.
“I can’t believe it’s been all summer since I’ve seen you,” said Joanne, Carey’s mother, as she embraced her daughter.
“It’s like our little girl is still growing up,” said Mark, her father, as he came in for a hug.
“Hey, Mom and Dad,” said Carey.
“We’re so glad to have you back,” said Joanne. “We’ve got a surprise waiting for you that we can’t wait for you to see.”
“And our surprise can’t wait to see you, either,” said Mark as he picked up her bags.
Carey’s stomach sank. She had a very good idea of just what the surprise was going to be, and who it might be was the last person she wanted to see.
Her parents eagerly led her into the house, and, sure enough, sitting in the living room was Brady Norwood.
Brady was a tall, slim man with slicked-back blond hair, a crafty, angular face dominated by a sharp nose and thin lips. His eyes were a watery, faded blue and always seemed to be narrowed in scheming. He was dressed in his usual white polo shirt and khaki chinos. As Carey entered the room, he rose to greet her, his arms outstretched as he approached her for a hug.
“Carey Oakley,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “It’s been far, far too long.”
“Brady!” she exclaimed. “I, um, wasn’t expected you here. Not even a little!”
“We thought it’d be nice for you to see a familiar face when you came back home. And Brady’s been so eager to see you since he moved back to town.”
Brady chuckled softly. “I’ve been running myself ragged getting my new bank branch up and running, but it’s important to make time for old friends.”
“Such a sweet young man,” said Joanne. “And look at you two—it’s just like high school all over again!”
Brady slipped his arm around Carey and pulled her close. She realized that right then she was in the last place she wanted to be.
“I’m so interested to hear about your time in Holyoke,” Brady said. “Never thought I’d see a girl like you slumming it like that, but I suppose college is the time to, ah, find oneself.”
Carey slipped out from under his arm. “I’d love to tell all of you all about it, but right now what I need is a nap. I’m just so worn out from the drive.”
“Oh, nonsense,” said Joanne, checking her watch. “It’s nearly six—you take a nap now and you’ll be up all night.”
“Not to mention we’ve got dinner reservations at seven at the country club,” said Brady.
Carey’s stomach tightened at the thought of spending the evening at the snooty country club where her parents were members. Brady being there was an extra annoyance that she didn’t feel like dealing with in the slightest. However, she knew that once her parents had made plans, there was no getting out of them.
“A little dinner and some good company and you’ll be right as rain,” said Mark. “Now, go put on some appropriate clothes and we’ll be on our way. Go on.”
Carey excused herself and trudged up to her old room, wishing she could just shut the door behind her and never leave. Instead, she resigned to the evening ahead and put on some slightly nicer clothes before returning downstairs.
A half-hour later, the four of them were seated at a table on the grand balcony of the country club, the full moon above casting silver light on the sweeping view of the club’s golf courses.
“First, let’s start with some wine,” said Brady. “I’m thinking a nice merlot.”
“Sounds lovely,” said Joanne.
“None for me,” said Carey.
“Oh, come now,” said Brady. “We can’t have an occasion like this without some wine.”
“Really,” said Carey. “I’m not feeling well.”
“Nonsense,” said Brady, flagging down a passing waiter with a few obnoxious finger snaps.
Once he had the waiter’s attention, he barked out an order, not taking his eyes off of the menu in front of him.
“About damned time we got some service,” he said.
“So, Brady,” said Joanna, folding her hands on her lap. “Carey’s been dying to hear all about your new job.”
“I have?” asked Carey, raising her eyebrows.
She felt the sharp poke of a finger underneath the table, her back going straight. Her mother shot her a surreptitious glare as Brady began speaking.
“Why, of course,” he said, a smile forming on his face as though he couldn’t imagine a topic he’d rather discuss. “Ever since I came back to town my new position is all anyone’s wanted to ask me about. And I don’t blame them, to be perfectly honest. It’s fascinating work.”
“And well-paying, too,” said Mark.
“And extremely well-paying,” confirmed Brady, casting a conspicuous glance to Carey. “Well, I’m basically the man in charge. The board gave me the managerial position of a new branch downtown, and they let me know in no uncertain terms that if my performance is what they expect out of me, then I’ll likely see a promotion to regional manager in the next few years.”
“Very impressive,” said Joanne, looking at Carey as she spoke.
“It’s certainly a challenge,” said Brady, “but I’m more than up to it. In my opinion, it’s about damn time they gave me a chance to show off what I can do.”
Carey wanted to roll her eyes, and did her best to fight the urge.
“As humble as ever, I see,” said Carey, taking a sip of her water.
“Being humble is for those who don’t mind getting stepped on,” said Brady. “To really get ahead in this world, you have to know just what you’re capable of and waste no time in finding a position that lets you shine. I’m lucky to have found just that at such an early age.”
Lucky to have an uncle who works for the bank, that is, thought Carey.
“Such ambition,” said Mark. “All very impressive stuff.”
“Anyhow, I’m considering telling them that I don’t even want to wait three years for my promotion; I’m thinking it should take no more than a year for me to prove just what I’m capable of. And if they can’t see that, then I’m sure there’re plenty of other banks who’d love to bring me on board.”
After he spoke, his eyes shot right to Carey, still making sure that she was paying attention. Carey felt somehow even more exhausted. Her mind continued to drift back to Owen, as well, her thoughts alternating between pleasant thoughts of their time together juxtaposed with the brutal fight that she’d witnessed. It was as though her mind couldn’t settle on just what to think about him.
The dinner went on like that for the next hour, Carey praying for each minute to pass as quickly as possible.
“Let me get that,” said Brady, quickly stabbing a gold credit card back into the air as the waiter arrived with the check.
Her father and Brady did the obligatory arguing over the bill, with Brady eventually prevailing.
“Thank you, Brady,” said Joanne. “It’s just such a pleasure to see you doing so well.”
“Well, it’s always been clear that Brady was destined for great things,” said Mark, his tone so pleased that Carey began to wonder if Brady wasn’t actually his kid.
“Yeah,” said Carey, “like that career in biology you always talked about.”
Brady waved his hand in a good-naturedly dismissive way.
“Dreams of kids who don’t know any better,” he said. “Little did I know at the time, you’re lucky to break six figures in that industry. And that’s after decades.”
He then clapped his hands on his knees, making it clear he wanted to change the subject.
“Mr. and Mrs. Oakley, as lovely as it’s been, would it be a problem if I stole Carey from you for the remainder of the evening? It’s such a lovely night out, and I was thinking she and I could go for a walk around the club.”
“I don’t know,” said Carey, stammering. “I’m just so tired.”
“Nonsense—that sounds like a splendid idea,” said Mark, his response so quick that Carey wondered for a moment i
f this part of the evening had all been rehearsed.
“Well then,” said Joanne, standing up. “We’ll leave you two alone. Have a lovely night, kids.”
With that they were off, leaving Carey and Brady alone—the exact situation that Carey didn’t want.
“Shall we?” asked Brady. “The grounds here are just great after dark.”
Carey wanted to jump up from her seat, run to the road as fast as she could, and flag down the next approaching car—taxi or not. Instead, she spoke. “Sure. Let’s do it.”