Dark Instinct (Dark Saints MC Book 6)

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Dark Instinct (Dark Saints MC Book 6) Page 2

by Jayne Blue


  “Come on, just a few hours.” I hated leaving Olivia. I hated going to the MC. I hated everyone and everything.

  But this was the third time Benz had buzzed. The thought of my Dad and his TV tray made me want to get out and feel some air.

  “Fine. Meet you outside Woody’s.”

  “Shit man, we could go in and throw a few back?” Benz, Kade, all of them, were trying to get me to snap out of it, but they were wasting their time.

  “No thanks. A ride, I’ll do that. Pool and shit. No.” I clicked off the phone. I looked up at the board again. MC Prez, VP, foot soldiers. I had over a dozen names on my wall of Hawks that could have been riding that bike. But none of them were the one, the triggerman. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I’d ride off some of my frustration. Maybe something new would come to me.

  I grabbed my leather and walked out. I didn’t tell Dad.

  Dad might be the one with emphysema, but I was the one who was suffocating.

  I got on my bike and didn’t look back. Growing up in this house, it was almost a second MC. It was huge, old, and in my earliest memories, it was filled with bikers and their old ladies. The old ladies liked it at the house way better than the club. The club was about hard decisions, hard liquor, and the machines we rode. It wasn’t a place for women. Maybe for Josie, but that was it.

  Which was why Mom convinced Dad to keep the house. She’d inherited it. It was her old, giant, family home outside of Port Az. There was access to the beach, acreage, a wooded area, and every fucking thing you would want if you were a kid or a Mom. Sarge would have been happy in a shack, as long as my Mom was with him. So he did what she asked and we lived in what could legitimately be called a mansion.

  Most of Port Az called it The Castle. But The Castle was rotting from the inside. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was what we all deserved.

  The old ladies, my sister, my Mom; they could pretend here. Maybe they could ignore the violence that surrounded all of us.

  But those days were gone. There was no pretending that my family hadn’t paid a blood debt of The Dark Saints.

  And I was so pissed at my Dad, and The Hawks, and even The Saints.

  Olivia was the innocent one and she was the one suffering.

  A ride was what I needed. Getting out of The Castle for a few hours sounded right.

  Woody’s, on the North Side of Port Az, was about a fifteen-minute ride. When I got there, Benz was waiting.

  “Glad you came out, brother,” he said.

  “Yeah. Before we ride, anything on that last name I got you?”

  Benz was trying to find out if The Hawks in Laredo had brought on any new probies.

  “No, they have new guys but all of ‘em new in the last three months.”

  “So another dead fucking end? I should just shoot up the entire goddamn chapter.”

  “Yeah? And then who pays if you do that? You know that answer.”

  “I know.”

  “Come on. Let’s just ride,” Benz said. He’d talked me down off this ledge before.

  “Fine, yeah.”

  Benz and I revved up the bikes and rolled through the streets of Port Az, past the town borders, and through to the Old Highway Road.

  The farther you got out of town, the more you could smell the salt of the water, and you could catch a little fetid smell too from the Port. I took a deep breath.

  I held on to the worst smell, letting it mingle in my stomach with the anger I felt at not having a name or face to go with this shooter. It had happened right in front of me, yet I couldn’t ID who’d shot my sister.

  I wanted revenge.

  I’d get revenge.

  My patience was running out and Benz knew it. He was doing all he could to distract me from the instinct that drove me.

  We rode, all night, in aimless loops, until the sky turned pink with the dawn.

  If I didn’t get a name soon, I was going to get my revenge on every Hawk I could, whether they’d pulled the trigger or not.

  That thought turned over in my head as our rubber hit the pavement, over and over and over again.

  4

  Tracy

  I had winnowed down my expenses to zero. After the agency let me know I got the job as a live-in housekeeper and caregiver, I got to work pinching every penny I could.

  I’d help my parents climb out of this and, with any luck, Ted and his family wouldn’t figure out how much they’d embellished about this wedding of the century crap.

  While my parents were fine with my plan to take this job as a live-in, Ted was a little tougher sell when I told him. I didn’t give him much time to shoot it down though. I told him the weekend before I was supposed to start work.

  “A domestic?” Ted could be a little snobby. I was going to have to work on that.

  “I was thinking of it more as managing a household and helping two people who are shut in.”

  Ted mulled that over in his head. He was careful and handsome. He had a plan. No one my age I knew did.

  I almost had no choice after we started dating; he’d had my life figured out more than I did. Once he put me into the vision he had for his future, the deal was sealed.

  There were no surprises with Ted or me and that was a good thing. I had my fill of crazy schemes with my mother. Ted’s course was always smooth, and I was grateful for that. Although I knew I’d have to sell him a bit on my new job and living situation. This was off plan.

  “I guess I can see it. Actually, this new job seems very self-sacrificing of you.”

  “They’re paying me, I’m not a volunteer.”

  “Princess Diana wasn’t a volunteer kindergarten teacher, but it still made her look very nice when she got engaged to Prince Charles.”

  “Oh, you’re Prince Charles now?” Ted was getting ahead of himself, seeing as he was merely about to launch his first city council campaign and not ascend to the throne of England.

  “No, but you know my parents. We’ll need to be sure to spin this so it doesn’t say maid or live-in housekeeper.” I did know his parents and they’d be mortified to think I was cleaning house, even though I knew that was a big part of my assignment. And I loved Ted for being a good guy despite the pressure his parents put on him. I helped him along with his vision of my new job.

  “Okay, you let them know it’s almost like doing missionary work. Missionary work that I’m getting big money for.” I winked at him.

  “You’re so pretty. I think you could do anything you wanted as a job and I wouldn’t mind it.”

  He wouldn’t mind it? He’d discouraged me from continuing nursing school so I could be there for this campaign, and focus on our wedding plans. I didn’t fight him about school, or nursing. I didn’t fight.

  I shook off Ted’s comment. I always did. It was easier, sometimes, to let that stuff go. I had enough in front of me without starting a fight about whether Ted was going to mind my new plan for gainful employment.

  “That’s sweet, Ted.” Ted hugged me and planted a kiss on my check. Ted’s mother was a cold fish but when we announced our engagement she was the first one to get pictures taken and put them in the local paper. I may not be rich or have a fancy career, but to her I looked right. It was what mattered to her.

  But I wasn’t marrying Ted’s mother. I was marrying Ted and this had gone better than it could have.

  I left Ted feeling like, if I didn’t completely have his blessing, at least he wasn’t angry about it. That was something. Especially since it was Monday morning and time to get to my new job.

  Part of the zero expenses plan was selling my car. It put a couple of thousand dollars in my parent bailout fund and it eliminated the need for insurance and gas. I was going to be austere and that meant public transportation.

  I took a Port Az bus to the main road outside of The Castle, and then decided the fifteen minutes or so walk to the address would do me good.

  Like all kids growing up in Port Az, I knew this house was back here, be
hind some gates, but I’d never actually seen it. It was next to the Port but inaccessible.

  Some friends in high school had gone to a party here once, I’d heard. And they’d acted like it was a mansion or something. You could see the expansive roof from the road but that was about it. I was about to find out if it really was a castle or just another urban legend of Port Az.

  At the gate I punched it in the code the agency had given me.

  The house was set way back. I couldn’t even see it, so I walked on. I had packed a rolling suitcase and another duffle bag. Every other thing I owned was at my parent’s new condo. There was something freeing really about minimizing things down to a big suitcase. I felt light and ready to handle this challenge.

  I dragged my suitcase along the winding dirt driveway towards The Castle. I swear I hit every divot on the way up. It wasn’t an easy trek but after I rounded the curve of the driveway and cleared a large patch of trees I finally saw it.

  It was huge!

  And old! It had to be one of the oldest in Port Az. It was also dark.

  I swallowed hard. If this was The Castle, it looked more like a haunted castle. It was by far the largest home I’d seen in real life. I gazed up at the three stories. There were windows everywhere. There was an obvious main entrance in the center of a gigantic porch that wrapped around the left side, to face the port. The right side had bay windows stacked on bay windows going up three stories high.

  Then there were parts that I supposed were called wings, stretching back on the left and right of the massive home, and probably behind it. Jutting up from the roofline were two towers with shuttered windows. There was no doubt from looking at it why the place had got the nickname “The Castle.” It was the closest thing I’d ever seen to one in real life.

  It was spectacular to look at, but it was also shabby. There was a decay I could feel before I even walked in. This had been an amazing place, once, but its glory days were in the past.

  I imagined what it might have looked like in its heyday. Heck, I wondered when that even was. I supposed it was at least one hundred years old, but had no real idea.

  I looked again at the windows. Shit, I could spend a year just dealing with those windows. Much less whatever else I’d find. I couldn’t believe Maddox lived here.

  I walked up the massive front steps to the ornate front door. There was no bell to ring but there was a doorknocker, so I gave it a whirl. At first there was no sound from inside so I chanced it and pushed the door. It opened.

  I heard a voice. Gritty, low, and from far away. “I’m coming. Let yourself in!”

  I pushed open the door a few inches more and it creaked. Jesus, didn’t these people know what WD-40 was?

  I took a step inside and my eyes tried to adjust from the hot Texas sun outside to the dimly lit interior of The Castle.

  A jingle noise got my attention and the first creature to greet me was Bella, the bulldog I’d handed off to Sam Maddox Junior and that I hadn’t seen since.

  Bella jumped on my legs and I kneeled to her level.

  “Hi there, girl. It’s been a long time!”

  I scratched behind Bella’s ears and her stub of a tail wagged.

  “Where is everyone? Do you know?”

  “Here, here!” And a gruff looking man in a scooter zoomed into the grand foyer. He had a massive amount of gray hair atop a wide frame. He was a big guy, but because of the scooter, I had no idea how tall he might be. He wore sweatpants, moccasins, and a leather jacket. It was a mashup of comfort wear and biker gear but instead of a bike he had a scooter.

  “Well, aren’t you a sweetheart! Bella loves you already.” His voice was low, and I had to strain to hear it.

  “Hi. Thank you. I’m Tracy Plumb.”

  “Yes, the new girl, thank you, bright and early. I’m Sam Houston Maddox Senior.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Maddox.”

  “Call me Sarge, everyone does. Or they used to.”

  “Sarge it is. I can see from your jacket you’re a vet! Thank you for your service.”

  “Yes, yes, well that was a long time ago. You’re the one on the front lines in this place. I’m not so sure the agency thought this one out.” Sarge looked me up and down.

  “Well, I have experience in home health care, a nurse’s aid degree anyway. I can handle housekeeping. I even worked for the shelter that Bella came from. I assure you I’m quite capable.”

  “You’re also quite adorable and tiny. This is not PC, I realize, but I’ve got a big job for you here, girl, uh Tracy. You sure you can handle more than that buck-ten you probably weigh indicates?”

  “Uh, yes, for sure.” I wondered what the heck he meant, buck-ten? But I figured the best plan was to match him bluster for bluster. “Bella isn’t the only bulldog in this foyer right now.”

  Sarge laughed out loud, which devolve into a hacking cough and a gasping for breath.

  I walked up and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Can I get you some water to start?”

  He looked at me with kind eyes surrounded by the deep crinkle of crow’s feet. I saw for a second the man he’d probably looked like back in his military days, handsome and strong. And I resolved to give him the respect that he’d earned while I did this job.

  “Follow me to the kitchen.” I did as he asked and after a few twists and turns we were in a massive kitchen, not the kind you eat in, but the kind where a staff of servants could prepare meals. It was completely empty and smelled like something in there had gone bad. I ignored the smell and opened a few cabinets. I found a glass, rinsed it out, filled it up, and handed it to Sarge. He took a few sips and I saw his labored breathing ease.

  “Smells like your work’s cut out for you in here, eh? Sorry about that. We’ve only had lazy temps the last few weeks. Clearly they haven’t cleaned out the fridge.”

  “Don’t you worry, I’ll handle it. But it seems like you need to rest.” I was worried that the old man’s color was gray. The coughing had stopped but that didn’t mean he was okay.

  “I will, I will, but let me give you a quick tour before I put my feet up. You need the lay of the land and to meet my daughter.”

  “I think I met your son, when he adopted Bella. A very nice man.”

  “Ugh, Junior?” He looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

  “Ha, yeah, Maddox.”

  “I’ve never heard him called nice. Anyway, let’s go see my girl.”

  We went down another hall. The space was large enough for Sarge’s scooter, but I guessed a lot of the home was inaccessible to him. If it was as old as it looked, there had to be major challenges for anyone with mobility issues.

  Sarge made it to the end of a long hallway and rolled into a room with an open door.

  A nurse sat in a corner, reading a book. She was in her fifties and greeted us with a nod.

  “Anything to report?” Sarge asked the woman. She shook her head no and went back to her book.

  “Olivia has three nursing shifts from the staff at Home Health Care Services. We have someone here for her needs twenty-four seven. Different someone, but all of them know how to handle Olivia’s life support.” Sarge wheeled his scooter up next to the hospital bed in the center of the room.

  “How are you today, sweetheart?” The gruff old man struggled to stand up. The nurse ignored him, so I rushed forward.

  “Let me help you.” He took my arm and I helped him stand from the scooter.

  “Thank you.” It felt like no one had helped this man in decades from the look he gave me.

  “No problem.”

  “I just can’t get my scooter close enough.” Sarge turned his gaze to the figure in the hospital bed. She was pale, her cheeks sunken in, and the sound of machines monitoring her vital signs filled the room. But there was no doubt she had been a beautiful young woman, once. Now, she seemed a shell.

  “How’s my Sunflower today?” Sarge leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. He smoothed her blonde hair. She di
dn’t respond.

  “We’ve got a new friend here to brighten the place. You’ll like her. Tracy, this is my daughter, Olivia.” I didn’t know exactly what Sarge expected me to do but I decided to take his lead.

  I walked to the other side of her and noticed her hair was shorter, growing in strangely. The agency had sent her medical file. She’d been shot in the head, had several brain surgeries to try to return some function, and none had worked. Olivia Maddox was in a persistent vegetative state.

  “Olivia, nice to meet you,” I said and surveyed the different measures being used to care for this sleeping beauty. She had a feeding tube and a central line, but she wasn’t on life support that I could see. I wouldn’t be responsible for the life-supporting measures, but I would be a back up for the nursing care.

  “The Home Health registered nurses monitor her NG tube and her vitals. They handle the necessities. You and I are here to make her life nicer. They say she can’t hear, that she’s…” Sarge’s voice broke and I just waited. Patience was going to be key I felt, to learn my job here.

  “Well, they say a lot of bad things. But I know she can hear me. And I know my Sunflower here likes her music, and well, we’re here for that kind of thing, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Sarge pulled up the blanket cover on Olivia and then slowly made his way back over to the scooter.

  “Just be her friend and brighten this place up. She deserves it.”

  I followed Sarge out of the room and down the hall a bit.

  “This is my TV room and bedroom. I need a bit of rest.”

  “Can I bring you some lunch? Around noon.”

  “That’s good. As you can see, I’m your other patient. But honestly, just don’t you worry about me. Take care to make this place a good place for a Sunflower to bloom, get me?”

  It was so sweet, so sad, this man and his daughter. I hoped I could do something to brighten their world, just as he asked.

  “Of course. How old is Olivia can I ask?”

  “She’s twenty-two.”

  “Well, that’s exactly my age, so we have a lot in common. Now, do you have any allergies I should know about?”

 

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