A Brother’s Salvation: The Sacred Brotherhood Book VII

by A. J. Downey

  I closed my eyes, and lowered the paper back to my lap, the leather of my jacket and cut creaking in the intimate golden pool of light from my lady’s lamp and somehow, sitting here, knowing she was just in the other room, knowing that she’d offered me her safe space, the one she spent the most time in, reading her books… Well, I took strength from all of it. The kind of strength that only the love of a good woman could provide. I put my glasses on my face, sucked it the fuck up, and cracked the seal on the envelope of thick paper.

  * * *

  Don’t be pissed…

  Hell, I know you’re pissed, but knowing you, you’re feeling guilty as hell, too. Don’t. This decision has been a long time comin’ and it ain’t just about Chandra, either. This is me, goin’ out on my own terms, D.

  I’m sick.

  I know y’all have been makin’ comments about me losin’ weight and shit, and you aren’t wrong, but it wasn’t just about my girl. It’s my prostate. It’s also too far gone for me to do anything about it. So just, don’t. This ain’t you. It was never about you, or anyone else but me.

  I know we didn’t get the best start, but that was because the best was yet to come. You did more for me than I could ever thank you for. You gave me purpose again. You gave me a new, healthier kind of rush to pursue so I could leave the cards and the dice behind. You gave me Chandra, by facilitating us meeting, and she was the best thing to ever happen to me, D. Hands down. She was and always will be the love of my life to the very end.

  If anyone should feel guilty it’s me, man. I didn’t know. I couldn’t know what losing the other half of your soul felt like until I lost her, and yet there I was, makin’ you live through it day in, day out, for years after you lost Tilly.

  I’ve been carrying guilt over that since Chandra died, but you… you never once said ‘I told you so’ or even brought it up. You helped me deal with it, the same, if not better than I had hoped I helped you, which is why I need you to know this ain’t your fault. None of it.

  God, or whatever powers that be, just saw fit that it was time for me to go. Sure, I could have done the chemo, been sick, pissin’ myself and a bunch of other unpleasant side effects to buy me a few more months, but that ain’t the way we lived. We don’t follow the rules and regulations of the citizen normative - or whatever the fuck fancy-ass name you want to put on it.

  That ain’t us. That ain’t me since you showed me there was a better way of doin’ things. I’ve had the best life since meeting you. I couldn’t ask for anything better out of my life with Chandra, either. There ain’t enough thanks in the world for me to give you for being my friend, for introducing me to her.

  I feel like I am dealing you a real shit hand by going out this way, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared… but I figure this is the best way. A kindness to not only myself, but to everyone. I don’t want to waste away and I don’t want none of you to be burdened with watching it.

  Fuck, I’m rambling, ain’t I? I didn’t want to do that.

  I love you, my brother, my best friend. I’ll be waitin’ for you with a bottle of your favorite tequila, for as long as it takes, but take your fuckin’ time.

  I’m a whole lot less worried about leaving now that I’ve seen you with Marcy. You’re a lucky son of a bitch, you know that?

  Of course you know that.

  There’s some things in an envelope in the safe in my closet. I want my bike to go to Disney. That boy needs to know what a Harley feels like instead of that princess, prima donna, German piece of shit he’s been puttering around tryin’ to keep up with the rest of us on. Let his ol’ man ride that shit. So, the title to my bike is in there and already signed over to him.

  I really want you to take care of Chandra’s books. I can’t bear to donate them, and I know it’s stupid, but even after I’m gone, I want a part of her there, too. She loved all of you all only second best to me. Don’t let them leave the club.

  My shit from ‘Nam, the medals and the military paperwork and shit, also in the safe, make sure it goes to Trigger. I think he’d have the right kind of reverence for it. My guns, I’ve signed over to Ghost...

  I skimmed over all of the shit he was doling out to everyone. It was just stuff. I didn’t care about any of it, but I would see that his wishes were tended. I pulled my glasses off and ran a hand over my face, thinkin’ to myself, Fuck, Doc… why didn’t you tell me?

  Not surprising, he had somethin’ to say about that after the division of all the rest of his worldly fuckin’ goods…

  I didn’t tell any of you about being sick because I know you would have talked me into fighting it, and I would have, because I love you all… I just wasn’t that brave, and I hope y’all will forgive me for that someday.

  Until we meet again, my brother. Take care of you, take care of Marcy, and let the club hold you up where I let you down.

  I really mean it, I love you all and I miss you already.

  Sacred Hearts Forever – Forever Sacred Hearts,

  Doc.

  P.S. – For what it’s worth, I would have voted Dray in as President when the time came. Not because I know it’s what you want, but because he’s the right man for the job. He’s learned so much and you done good – yes, you. Just give him a year or two more. That boy’s aging into a fine man. Oh, and quit smokin’. See you on the other side. Hopefully not soon.

  I tossed the letter aside on the little table between the two armchairs and sniffed. I tossed my readers aside and picked up the tequila, taking a fortifying drink. I needed a cigarette. I got up, taking my glass with me and opened up Marcie’s back door. The night was cool, but not cold, and the house felt a little stuffy from sittin’ closed up and empty all weekend, so I left the door open. I went over and sat sideways on my bike, bracing my boots in the gravel.

  Tequila glass on my bitch seat, safe from tippin’, I fished out a cigarette from the pack and put it between my lips. I heaved a sigh and found my lighter, lit up the cancer stick and sucked in a lungful of tobacco smoke. I tipped my head all the way back and stared up into the star-scattered sky and wondered which one was Doc lookin’ down over us, because I knew he had to be up there. There weren’t no finer man in this life or the next.

  “Take care of him, girls…” I murmured, and sighed. The only thing I had goin’ for me is that I knew he was there with Chandra and Tilly now, and I could totally count on ‘em all to take care of each other. It’s what we did.

  “Sacred Hearts forever, forever Sacred Hearts,” I murmured, and downed the rest of what was in my glass.

  24

  Marcie…

  I heard him go out and I panicked slightly, thinkin’ he was tryin’ to leave after all that drinkin’. I threw back the blankets on my bed and padded carefully around it to my bedroom window and peeked out into the back. He was leanin’ that nice butt of his against the saddle of his bike, but he weren’t goin’ nowhere.

  Instead, he set his drink aside and pulled out one of those damn cigarettes. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding in relief. Not going anywhere, just indulging in his bad habit. I could live with that. I watched him take that first lungful of smoke. He held it, tipping his head all the way back and stared for a long time into the sky. I saw him murmur something to the stars and my heart broke all over again.

  I backed away from the window slowly, suddenly feeling like I was intruding, and crept back into bed. I lay on my side and closed my eyes, tears leaking out from under my closed lids and tickling over my skin, dripping down my nose.

  “Oh, tarnation!” I muttered and wiped at them with the back of my hand, impatiently. I sighed and tried to settle into sleep, and I must have drifted off some, because when I woke, it was to the bed dipping behind me as Dragon sat on the edge of it.

  I breathed in the smell of alcohol, the outdoors, and cigarette smoke clinging to him. The first two weren’t so bad, but the last I could always do without. He rested a hand on my hip and rubbed it through the comforter a
nd I twisted so I could look at him. He lifted the blankets and got into bed with me, pulling me back against his chest.

  I snuggled into him and he said, “I don’t know how to feel anymore, I’m just kind of numb.”

  “Yer emotionally and mentally exhausted, honey. It’s to be expected, it’s human,” I said simply. He nodded and held me tight, pressing a kiss to the back of my shoulder.

  “Feel like talkin’?” I asked.

  “Yes and no,” he answered.

  “Anything I can do?” I asked when he was silent for too long.

  “I honestly don’t know, baby.”

  I turned onto my back and he put his arms around me, pressing his ear to the center of my chest between my breasts. He sighed out softly, and his body eased, losing some of the tension it held. I smiled faintly as he listened to the ticking of my heartbeat and I played with his hair, gently stroking my fingers through it until, I think, we both fell asleep.

  I woke all alone the next morning and when I peeked out my bedroom window, I was relieved to see his bike was still here. I found him sitting at the kitchen table in front of a steaming mug of coffee, staring sightlessly at the box of letters.

  “Y’ all right?” I asked gently from the kitchen archway and he startled sharply, his hand going reflexively under his jacket. I froze and he froze, too, when he registered it was only me.

  “Bad idea sneakin’ up on me, Sugar.”

  “Honestly, with how hard you were thinkin’, I don’t think anything short of me bringin’ a marchin’ band through the house would get any other kind of reaction.”

  He chuckled and said, “I probably woulda shot the tuba player. Y’ okay?”

  “Oh, I’ll be fine,” I said, moving into the kitchen. “Soon as my heart crawls its way back down into my chest where it belongs.”

  “Sorry,” he said gruffly and I inclined my head gently.

  I brought a fresh mug down out of the cupboard.

  “All’s forgiven, no worries.”

  The ensuing silence was so loud it very nearly echoed through my kitchen. The atmosphere so very heavy with his thoughts as I poured myself some coffee and joined him at the table. I sat down and doctored it up, leaving out the bourbon this time, and after my first sip, I asked gently, “What’s on your mind?”

  He sighed, a heavy, frustrated thing and said, “So much. I ain’t hardly know where to begin.”

  “All you gotta do is pick one, baby. Just one little thing, or maybe the biggest. Just one thing, and all the rest’ll follow.”

  “Hm.” He sucked in a long breath and said, “I’m tired, Sugar. So very tired.”

  “Of what?”

  “Being the man.”

  I raised my eyebrows and he chuckled and shook his head. “Not that man, the man in charge.” He cast his gaze back onto the line of letters in the box and sighed again. “I don’t want to be the man to hand these out,” he said finally.

  “Then don’t,” I said. “Let someone else do it.”

  He gave me a look like that would happen when Hell froze over and the little devils went shopping. I took another drink of my coffee and gave him questioning eyes over the rim of my cup.

  “That’s not how it goes, baby.”

  “I thought you made your own rules.”

  “I do, and this is one of ‘em. I don’t ask anything of anyone that I’m not willin’ to do myself.”

  “It’s a noble rule.”

  He sighed, a heavy thing, and nodded. “Sometimes I wish I could break it.”

  “I know, but if y’ did, would you ever be able to forgive yourself?”

  He chuckled and shook his head.

  “When did you get to know me so well?”

  I smiled and said, “Sometimes, it’s like lookin’ into a mirror when it comes to our beliefs.”

  “Hey, now,” he said, gravely. “That sounds an awful lot like you’re sayin’ I’m some kind of a good man.”

  “Aren’t you?” I asked innocently.

  “Now that, I ain’t,” he said with such a heartbreaking certainty.

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that,” I said quietly.

  He reached out and cupped my cheek and my eyes darted to his face which had such a look of appreciation on it, it gave me real pause. How many times had I wished a man would look at me like that? Too many to count. I put my hand over his and turned my lips into his palm and we just sat there, quietly, our other hands twined on the top of my thigh until, with another heavy sigh, he said, “I better rally the troops back at base.”

  “You want I should go with you?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “You’ve got clients, ain’t you?”

  I nodded. “But I could cancel.”

  “No, don’t do that. Just call me when you’re done for the day, yeah?”

  “I can do that,” I agreed.

  “Thanks.”

  25

  Dragon…

  It ripped me to pieces handing out those letters. The looks on all of their faces. Grim. Ashen. Eyes red-rimmed from weeping, shoulders hunched as if it was the only thing holding some of them together. Some tore into their envelopes right away, some stared at the fancy thick paper in their hands, some tucked them into the inside pockets of their cuts for later.

  Disney read his and his reaction was probably the most shocking, the most out-of-character of all. He stood up abruptly, sucking in a sharp breath, and launched the chair he’d been sitting in into the cinderblock wall. It shattered in a clatter of splinters and he dropped to the cement floor, rocking and weeping. His ol’ man, Aaron, went to him, and Sunshine did too. They held him between them while he wailed and cried, screaming his agony wordlessly, trying like hell to get rid of that overpowering, overwhelming pain.

  It damn-near broke me to watch it, but as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t join him on that floor.

  I had to be strong, resilient for all of ‘em. I needed to hold them up, and fuck if I weren’t so fuckin’ tired of always being the one.

  “You okay, Pops?”

  I startled. I thought my boy had gone home with all the rest. I downed what was in my glass and shook my head.

  “I’m really not,boy. I’m really not,” I said and I could feel myself tremble as I held myself in. My boy, to his credit, dropped down onto the stool beside mine and slapped me on the back of my cut, put an arm around me and just sat there, silently lending me the strength I needed to get my shit together.

  “I can do it, Pops. Whatever you need me to do, just lay it on me.”

  It was a small thing, but a profound one. I was so proud of the man my boy had become in that moment, I damn-near teared up for a completely different reason. I supposed now was as good a time as any to start passing the torch like I intended and I sighed.

  “I need to show you how to go about doing things in the event of a member’s death. Where the papers are for the cemetery plots. Who to contact, how to arrange things. I guess now is as good a time as any.”

  He nodded. “I’m ready when you are.”

  I nodded and said, “Come on with me.”

  Some hours later, I leaned back in my desk chair in the converted janitor’s closet that served as my office. Dray sat in a metal folding chair in the doorway, shaking his head.

  “Never realized how much shit went into planning a funeral.”

  “It’s a lot,” I agreed.

  He shook his head. “Hope I never have to cause to put this particular knowledge to use.”

  “You will. At least one more time.”

  “Don’t talk like that, Pops,” he almost scolded me.

  “Not anytime soon, you dumbass,” I rocked forward in my chair and sighed. “Guess I could have worded it better.”

  “You think?” he asked, standing and stretching. He folded up the chair and tucked it back behind the filing cabinet it came from. He let his eyes wander over the pictures on the walls of a bygone era. Photos of me with Unkind and Doc, Tilly tucked into my side as
we stood in front of the bikes and the old clubhouse.

  “I don’t miss that place,” he said frankly, and I had to laugh a little.

  “Place was a shithole, for sure. Glad we scored this one on the cheap.”

  “What’d you have on the real estate agent?” he asked, eyes still locked on one of the photos with a much younger Doc in it.

  “Should get that one blown up for the memorial,” I said, ignoring his question.

  He shook his head, “I got one already. One of him and Chandra at the last Lake Run they managed to do together before she died.”

  I nodded. “That’s even better,” I agreed.

  “Want I should take care of that now?”

  I nodded, “Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind. Need to start getting this place set up.”

  “You good?”

  I nodded again, and said, “As good as it gets, given the circumstances.”

  “All right.”

  He punched the door frame twice, lightly, and left. I watched him go, the ends of his dark hair, so like my own, brushing the top of his top rocker. It’d been getting longer. I hadn’t noticed. I sighed, heavy and leaned way back in my seat, letting my gaze rove over the old photographs on the walls, reminiscing about the good ol’ times until my eyes started to water unbidden and I had to cast my eyes to the water-stained tiles of the ceiling.

  “Wherever y’ are, whatever yer doing, I hope you’re happy, and everything’s good,” I muttered and picked up my glass. It was fuckin’ broken, and by broken, I meant empty. That was all right. I was done in here anyhow.

  I heaved myself to my feet and went back out to the bar and poured myself another. My phone buzzed in my hand but I didn’t have my glasses on; I’d left ‘em back on my desk, so rather than try and read the screen, I just answered.

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah? Is that any way to answer the phone?” Marcie asked through the line. I could hear the smile in her voice which took any real admonition or nagging out of the quip.