by ML Nystrom
He hung up and was still. I could sense his iron control locking in and his eyes went dead. My heart jumped with a frightened apprehension. Not for me, but for whatever it was that he just found out.
He got up robotically and started dressing. “The kids were taken from the Lair last night. My mom and one of the club women were attacked outside and left on the deck unconscious. They were hit in the head with something and left in the cold all night. They’re on the way to the hospital. I need to make some calls and get the boys up there for a search and put out an Amber alert and talk to the state police. Dad said there’s security camera footage that shows Shorty Manacourt and Jonelle outside the Lair. Because of the emergency custody granted to me, this is considered kidnapping.”
He was on autopilot, speaking his plans out loud, but I wasn’t sure if that was for my benefit or his.
My heart dropped to my knees and I was split between seething anger at Jonelle and panicky fear for the kids. “Oh, my God, Blue! What can I do to help?”
“I don’t know. Might need you at the Lair. Might need you at the hospital. I’ll text when I can. I gotta go.”
He stomped to the bedroom door, paused, and rushed back. His mouth crashed down on mine and he kissed me furiously. Hard and short. He turned again and walked out, his phone plastered to his ear. A minute later, I heard the back door close. The silence he left was ominous, and the worry started. It was time for me to begin my day and get the soaping solutions started, but there was no way my mind could be on work today. Those two precious children were gone, maybe kidnapped by their mother in a petty attempt to hurt their father. What kind of person did that to their own kids? I got up, showered, and dressed quickly, not knowing what to do but needing to do something. My thought was to head up to the hospital and check on Betsey. The store would survive being closed for one day.
Nineteen
Michelle crouched on the threadbare couch, still wearing her princess pajamas from the night before. Her hair was tangled and her teeth felt funny. Cody was tightly clinging to her side, still crying and whimpering. He was also still in his footie pajamas. His eyes were swelled up and there was a stream of snot that had dried under his nose. He kept wiping it off onto his sleeve since he didn’t have any tissue or toilet paper and they were too scared to go find any. The whole place stunk of rot and looked like it smelled.
Jonelle and her friend Shorty had come to the Lair late last night and taken them out by flashlight through the outside, side yard, emergency stairs. Michelle had wanted to protest and to find her grandmother, but Jonelle was full of temper and had a short fuse. Cody was confused and sleepy. Michelle managed to keep him quiet and not stir up their mother any more than she already was. Shorty had hauled both of them up, one under each arm, and rushed them out of the building to Jonelle’s waiting car.
Jonelle had driven a long time to this place deep in the woods. It was really dark and really scary when they arrived and even worse now that the sun had come up. Billy was there and was really mad at Jonelle. Michelle heard him call her mother a “stupid bitch” and “fucking cunt” over and over again. She only knew what “bitch” meant, but she knew the others were bad words too.
“Shells, I need to pee-pee really b-b-bad!” Cody lightly whispered. Michelle fidgeted on the nasty piece of furniture. She had to pee as well but didn’t dare move. Billy was yelling at everything and everyone and had already screamed at Cody for crying. He had that glass thing in his hand and had been smoking through it off and on all day. It really smelled bad. Jonelle had smoked from the glass thing too, but not as much as Billy and Shorty.
“Da fuck were you thinkin’, you dumb bitch!” Billy started again, pacing and sucking back more of the acidic smoke. “Fuckin’ cunt! I done toldja we ain’t takin’ no kids! Too much fuckin’ trouble. Fuckin’ cryin’ asses an’ shit!”
Jonelle lay back on an old recliner that had also seen better days. “An’ I done told you, as long as I have ’em, the state makes him pay child support an’ I get a deposit in my account every month. Nothin’ that asshole can do about it!”
Michelle knew they were talking about her and Cody and Daddy. She was out of tears at this point. She had stopped thinking about Jonelle as “mama” a long time ago and didn’t understand why Jonelle hated her daddy so much, but she did.
“As soon as Shorty gets back with the money, we’re outta here. Them biker assholes almost got him yesterday. Stupid fucker! You want them kids? You keep ’em quiet and keep up, ’cause I ain’t waitin’ for no one!”
Michelle heard Cody whimper and move around. He was about to pee his pants and that would probably set both Billy and Jonelle off. So far, neither adult had hit them, but Michelle was afraid that could change anytime.
“Mama, can we go to the bathroom? We gotta pee real bad,” she said in the smallest voice she could muster.
Jonelle rolled her eyes and flicked her hand down the short hallway. “Go do whatcha gotta do and then get back here.”
The toilet was cracked and leaked, but at least it still worked. There wasn’t any toilet paper, but there was a roll of paper towels. Michelle let Cody go first and then finished her own business. She took a few of the paper towels and wet them in the sink, trying to clean both her and Cody a bit.
“I w-w-wish we had s-s-some of Psalm’s soap right now!” Cody wailed softly. “It smells really good.”
“I know, Cody. I wish we did too.”
Cody began to cry again, making her wonder how many more tears he had in him. “I want to go home. I want Daddy!” he sobbed.
Michelle didn’t know which he really wanted, since home was different than where Daddy lived.
“Shells! Cody! Get your asses back in here!” They scurried at the sharp yell from their mom.
Billy was barking on his phone. Jonelle was watching him, a worried look on her face.
“What da fuck do ya mean you can’t get to the money?” He paused.
Then he exploded.
“Them goddamn bikers ain’t my fuckin’ problem, shit for brains! You better figure it out, motherfucker! You get that fuckin’ money and you get it the fuck here, now!”
He snapped the phone closed and threw it across the room. “Goddamn fuck!” he stomped around, holding his head. “Fix me up a goddamn rock, baby.”
Jonelle sneered back. “You done had three already.”
Billy’s eyes bulged from his face and his lip curled back over his teeth. Michelle shrank back against the wall in fear.
“Fix. Me. Another. Fuckin’. ROCK!” Spit flew from his lips.
Jonelle paused for a moment, then rolled her eyes. “Shells, take your brother in the kitchen and get something to eat. Stay there until I call you.”
Michelle took Cody’s hand and led him into a kitchen with flowery orange and green wallpaper that was faded and peeling. There was an old Formica table with four chairs sporting cracked red vinyl seats and metal legs and old green refrigerator that rattled in one corner next to a matching oven with three of the four burner eyes gone.
The contents of the struggling fridge were much the same as they were at Jonelle’s house. A half loaf of bread, peanut butter, a pack of bologna, and two cases of beer sat in the rattling machine. There were a few bottles of water in the door and a bottle of cheap ketchup that had fallen over sometime and had leaked into a gummy puddle on one of the shelves.
Michelle sighed and pulled out the bread and lunch meat.
“Can I have mayonnaise? I don’t like ketchup on my bologna,” Cody piped up, wiping his nose again on his sleeve.
“We don’t have mayonnaise right now. You’ll just have to eat it dry.”
Michelle pulled two paper plates from a stack on the chipped Formica counter. She added a handful of stale chips from an open bag close by. Cody sat on the floor and wolfed down the food. She made her own sandwich and chips as well and sat next to him.
The kitchen was full of plastic Rubbermaid boxes and lidded, big buckets of st
uff. The counter and sink were full of crusty stock pots and the whole place stank worse than the living room couch. Michelle didn’t know what the setup meant, but in her gut, she knew it was bad. Her young brain was sending out warning signals like crazy, telling her she needed to get out and get out now. Something bad was going to happen and soon. She couldn’t leave Cody. Billy already didn’t like them, but especially didn’t like the little boy, always calling him names and saying how he hated dealing with kids. She really didn’t want to leave her mama with Billy, but what other choice was there? She knew Jonelle would leave them both in a heartbeat if it suited her needs.
Her eyes lifted to the back kitchen door. The dead bolt was way out of her reach, but it was unlocked. There was a pile of large towels in the corner stacked up that didn’t look too dirty. She made up two more sandwiches of the old bread and baloney. There were no sandwich bags or wrap, but there was a pile of plastic grocery bags crammed into a corner. She wrapped the sandwiches in one bag and stuffed it into another, adding more chips and two of the water bottles.
“Stay here and keep quiet,” she instructed her brother.
She left Cody on the floor and peeked around the corner into the living room. Billy was in the old recliner with his hand on her mother’s head as it moved up and down between his legs. His eyes were closed and he was grunting and cursing with her every movement.
Michelle’s eyes opened wide at the sight, but what really got her attention was the gun sitting on the table next to Billy’s other hand.
She made up her mind.
Carefully, slowly, she snuck into the living room, crawling on all fours. The coffee table hid her for the most part and as long as she was really quiet she should be able to sneak all the way. She thought if her heart pounded any harder, they would hear it, but only sounds were the eager slurping noises coming from the two adults. She was terrified of being caught and tried not to think of what would happen should Billy open his eyes and see her not five feet away from his feet. She slid forward, trying not to make the floor creak. Picking up both her shoes and Cody’s shoes, she backed out of the room the same way. Neither Jonelle nor Billy noticed.
Back in the kitchen Michelle let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She was so scared, tears were forming in her eyes. She blinked them away. She had to be Daddy’s strong brave girl now.
“Cody, we gotta leave,” she said, putting the shoes on Cody’s feet over the footie pajamas. “I got some food and some water. We can wrap up in a couple of those towels to keep warm.”
“Where we going?” Cody complained.
“If we climb up the biggest hill we see, we can find Gramma’s house. We’ll go there.” She slipped on her own shoes. Hers didn’t light up when you stomped them like Cody’s did, but they were still a pretty princess pink.
“I bet Gramma has mayonnaise.” Cody rose eagerly from his spot.
“She does. She’s got lots of stuff at her house.”
Michelle stood up and grabbed some of the towels, throwing two around Cody’s head and shoulders and doing the same for herself. The towels smelled sour and she wrinkled her nose, but there wasn’t anything else she could see to get without trying to get past the two adults again.
“We hafta be real quiet now. Can’t make any noise till we get in the woods and find a hill to climb. Got it?”
Cody nodded, a worried look on his face, but he trusted her.
Michelle nodded back and picked up the plastic bag of their meager supplies. She turned the knob slowly to the back door and tugged on it. A brief moment of panic had her stomach clenching when the door stuck. She tugged a bit harder and it reluctantly opened, screeching loudly in the process. Billy let out a huge bellow at the same time.
“Goddamn fuck!”
Michelle and Cody froze in terror, waiting for him or Jonelle to come barreling in the room. A minute or two later, when no one rushed into the kitchen, Michelle dared to move, pushing Cody through the door into the cold air. She followed with the bag and turned the knob to close the door without the latch clicking. The back of the house was full of overgrown grass. They moved through it as best as they could. When they reached the tree line, Michelle took one last look over her shoulder at the falling apart house. A single tear ran down her face. She turned and led Cody into the woods.
Twenty
Blue drove up to the house he and Jonelle once shared. He had spent the afternoon first at the Lair and then at the hospital. The security cameras at the Lair showed Jonelle and a local thug by the name of Shorty coming out of the Lair with Cody and Michelle. He and Brick watched as Shorty raised a baseball bat, swinging and connecting first with Donna’s head and then with Betsey’s. Both women were stable, but Betsey was still unconscious. Brain damage was a strong possibility, but the doctors would not be able to assess that until she woke up. Hopefully she would.
Brick went glacial with absolute rage when he saw his woman get hit. The fury pouring from him froze the very air around him and every club member burned with the icy cold of his wrath. His voice when he spoke to Blue was subzero.
“I got respect for you, son, and I got respect for the law. But I also got respect for justice and sometimes them things don’t line up. You and I don’t see eye to eye on that all the time, and I been easy about it for a long time, but I’m gonna tell you now, this is one time I’m gonna ask the law to stay outta my way.”
Blue’s jaw gritted. He knew this meant Shorty’s days were numbered and maybe even Jonelle’s. This was against everything he was supposed to stand for as an officer of the law, but as a man, a father, and a son, he was ready to put the badge in his pocket and join his club brethren. The fact that his children were missing and possibly in harm’s way was enough to make him question the oath he took. In the club’s history, more than one man had been “taken up the mountain” never to return. Blue knew this didn’t happen often but when it did, there was good reason. His best bet was to find Shorty, Jonelle, and Billy before the Runners did. If he didn’t, he knew there would be no trace and he’d have to make a decision that he would have to live with. He had given his dad a single jerky nod.
The house was a small ranch style, older, but still in a nice, safe neighborhood. Jonelle didn’t like it and wanted one of the fancier homes in the new housing development, but this was what he could afford on his salary. He parked the car a few houses down. A club prospect was easily spotted, attempting to hide behind a row of hedges near the opposite side of the house. Blue sighed, thinking no one with any sense would approach the house with such an obvious guard dog. He waved at the man and entered the house he had once owned but hadn’t set foot in during the past year.
The décor was the same, but the house itself was mess. Plates with dried-up food were stacked on the coffee table, papers and other bits were scattered around, and the trash bins were overflowing. Jonelle had never worked at a job, citing that she could stay at home to take care of the kids and the house while he earned the money. She had never been a great housekeeper, but this was worse than he had thought. He went into the kitchen and found a sink full of dirty dishes and more trash scattered on the counters and floor. The fridge held the bare minimum of food.
“Fuck!” The word burst from his lips as he slammed the fridge door. Anger and guilt raced through him at the way his kids had been living and how long he had allowed it to happen. He whipped out his phone and took pictures of the filth as he made his way through the house. It looked like both kids had been moved into one room, or maybe Cody had moved into the pink princess room to be near his sister. The sight of their clothes and toys piled neatly on one side of the room and the carefully made bed almost undid him, but he grabbed at his iron control and kept looking around.
He hit the jackpot in the main bedroom. There was a glass pipe and other paraphernalia sitting on the nightstand next to the bed he once shared with the woman he now hunted. It was out in the open, as if daring anyone to come and see what had been happe
ning in this house. Blue snapped more pictures and slipped on some latex gloves. Under the bed, he found a duffle bag of money, the bills just randomly stuffed inside and several boxes of the crystal drug that had been floating around his town, killing people. Small plastic baggies and a digital scale completed the picture and there was no doubt he’d found the distribution source.
Blue raked his hand over his head and pressed his forehead into the side of the sour-smelling mattress, his heart pounding and hurting. “Fuck!” he uttered again, but only the silent house answered him. Tears gathered in his eyes and he blinked them back. This was not the time to fall apart. He still had to find his kids and the people who had them.
The loud crash of a breaking window went through the house. Blue’s head jerked up at the sound. He heard a man’s voice curse and a thump as whoever it was made his way inside.
“Fucking damn bikers! Gotta fuck everything up. Stupid bastards!”
Blue slipped silently into the closet, leaving it open a crack, and drew his gun. His first impulse was to charge the man, but he needed to see who it was. His suspicions were rewarded in the next minute as Shorty ambled into the bedroom, squatted, and flipped up the wrinkled bedspread to get to the bags underneath. Shorty huffed and puffed, the sparse hair on his head greasy with sweat and his soft body stretched awkwardly. He grunted and groaned as he pulled out the money and the drugs.
“Fuckin’ Billy! Thinks I’m his fuckin’ servant. Like I got nuthin’ better to do than run his goddamn errands. ‘Shorty, get this!’ ‘Shorty, get that!’ Fuck that noise. I’mma take this shit and gettin’ the fuck outta— Oh fuck!”
His monologue stopped when Blue’s gun pressed against his temple. Blue spoke in a voice colder than ice. “Where are my kids, you piece of shit?”
Shorty raised his hands, stayed sitting on the floor, and assumed a placating demeanor. “Now, Deputy, I know you’re not gonna use that gun on me, seein’ as you’re an officer of the law an’ all. I was jus’ followin’ orders. Same as you do. I’m sorry, really I am,”
