The man nodded and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Blinking back tears, Dwayne nodded and put his phone away. “Thank you. I need to get out of here. I’m sorry.”
“In times like this, a church might be the best place for you,” replied the pastor gently.
“Right now, the best place for me to be is at home, alone, with a bottle of Jack,” he muttered and looked at me. “I’m sorry, Ava. I know this is hard on you, too. I just… I need some time by myself.”
I felt sick to my stomach and could only imagine what he was going through.
He hugged me and then quickly left the church.
As much as I understood him wanting to be alone, I felt the opposite and wished I’d allowed Millie to join me. I felt as if I was barely holding it together as memories washed over me. Losing Sheila had been bad enough. Knowing that I would never get the chance to see my brother again was devastating.
“Would you like to sit down and talk about your brother?” the pastor asked kindly.
I knew his intentions were good, but I suddenly felt a strong desire to find out exactly who was responsible for Andrew’s death and bring those people to justice. My brother might have made some bad decisions in his life, but deep down, I knew he wasn’t the monster the media was making him out to be. The guy I remembered wasn’t the kind of person who went around assaulting women, and the only thing that made sense was what Dwayne had said about Andrew being set up and murdered.
Pulling myself together, I shook my head. “Thank you, but I’m fine,” I said, my determination to right a wrong making me stronger. “When does the service start?”
“In twenty minutes,” he replied, still looking concerned. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some private counseling?”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine.”
“Okay.” He looked at his watch again. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back shortly. I’m going to change into my robes.”
“Of course,” I replied.
He stepped away and I looked around the church, not exactly surprised that more people weren’t filing in the doorway to pay any last respects. It was actually pretty depressing. But then again, Sheila had alienated herself from most everyone. She either pushed everyone away or simply abandoned them. Although I was still hurt by how she’d failed as a parent, I took a deep breath and told myself to let go of the grudge I’d been holding for so long. She was to blame for me ending up in foster care, but Sheila had been fighting her own demons. I just hoped that in death, she finally found some kind of peace.
Remembering the letter, I walked over and sat down at one of the pews. I opened it up and began reading it.
My Dearest Ava,
What I wouldn’t do to be able to reach back in time and make things right. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me for how much I failed you. I made so many terrible choices and I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to try and fix things between us. It wasn’t just shame that stopped me though. I was afraid that I’d hurt you again because of my weaknesses. I want you to know that I never stopped loving you or Andrew. Whenever I’d try and get straight, I would think about my screw-ups and what I should have done. Instead of doing the right thing, I’d only get high again to try and forget what a shitty mom I was.
I’m sorry, Ava. I truly am. I hope that you make better choices in life than me and will always fight for the ones you love.
She didn’t sign the letter I noticed, but there was a key taped to the paper. I stuffed both of the items into the envelope and walked back over to the casket. My heart felt heavier than ever as I stared down at her. “It’s okay. I forgive you,” I whispered, feeling a weight lift off of my shoulders. The letter couldn’t really make up for the horror I’d gone through in foster care, but to know she’d owned up to her screw-ups made me feel better.
Chapter 7
Ava
AFTER THE FUNERAL, I asked the pastor if he knew anything about the key in the envelope.
“It’s for her trailer home,” he said and gave me the address. “She wanted you to have it.”
I thanked him and then said goodbye.
“Aren’t you going out to the cemetery while we lay her to rest?” he asked.
“No,” I replied, unable to take any more sadness for one day. “Where is she being buried? I’ll stop by another time.”
He told me and then invited me to church the following weekend. I told him that church wasn’t my thing, but if it ever changed, I’d let him know.
“I hope you do. Peace be with you,” he said, staring at me with concern.
“Thank you. You, too.”
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, I stood outside of what was apparently my mother’s run-down, dilapidated trailer. The grass needed to be mowed and the exterior of the home was shot to hell. I had no idea what I was going to do with the place and decided to see if I could donate it somehow.
Expecting it to be just as shitty on the inside, I was surprised to find that it was clean and had some nice furnishings. Dropping the keys on the kitchen counter, I looked around for a while and that’s when I found a stack of brief letters from Andrew. They were in an empty milk crate in her bedroom. Intrigued, I started going through them and noticed that he’d been sending her money in the form of cashier’s checks. I stared at the stubs, surprised of the amounts. Some were over one-thousand dollars. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a whole lot of information in the letters about his personal life and I couldn’t find a return address. As I sorted through each of them, I wondered if it was because he hadn’t wanted to be found.
Sighing, I glanced over to the other side of the bedroom and saw a picture of me when I was a child, sitting on her nightstand. I walked over for a closer look and noticed a Valentine’s Day card I’d made for her back in elementary school lying next to it. I picked it up and grew teary-eyed again as I remembered making it for her. I’d been in first or second grade and so proud of the card. When I’d given it to her, she hugged me and started to cry. When I asked her what was wrong, she’d told me that I was the best daughter in the world and that she didn’t deserve me.
I lay down on the bed and put the card against my heart. Closing my eyes, I stayed there for a while, feeling a hailstorm of sorrow for both my mother and now my older brother. Life had been so unfair for both of them, and although I’d lived in my own kind of hell, I’d been able to rise above it, for the most part. Now, more than ever, I was so grateful that I had Millie in my life.
Suddenly, my cell phone began to ring. I picked it up and noticed it was Dwayne.
“I’m sorry for leaving you like that,” he said, his words slurred. “I shouldn’t have done that to you. It was shitty.”
“It’s okay.”
“No. Everyone’s always abandoning you. It’s not right.” He let out a ragged breath. “I just… I just can’t believe he’s gone. My son,” he said, his voice cracking. “My… my boy.”
“I know,” I replied, heartbroken, too. “It’s not fair. Something needs to be done. Those people can’t get away with what they did. Is there anything we can do?”
He blew his nose. “Sorry,” he said, sniffling. “And no. Nothing legal, at least.”
“Are you sure? Maybe we can find a lawyer or something? Someone who can do some digging?”
“You have no idea who we’re dealing with,” he said. “These guys are outlaws. They live by their own rules and do whatever the fuck they want, whenever the fuck they want. They’re evil, Ava. I’m telling you…”
“So, we’re just supposed to forget about it?” I asked in disbelief.
“Hell no. I’m not,” he replied.
“What are you going to do?”
“Find out who framed and had him killed—and return the favor.”
I was stunned into silence.
He took a drink of something. “Yep. An eye-for-an-eye,” he slurred. “The people responsible for this are drug-dealing, cold-blooded murderers
anyway. They’re the kind of guys who turn people like your mother into heroin and crack addicts.”
My blood began to boil as he went on, talking about the type of monsters associated with the Gold Vipers and how awful they were.
“They’re involved with everything. Prostitution. Pornography. Child trafficking. I could go on and on. Hell, I’d love to go vigilante on all of their asses,” Dwayne muttered. “The cops are worthless.”
“How do you know all of this about them?”
“Because the guys I work for aren’t exactly angels themselves. But, I tell you what… they’re not as bad as who we’re dealing with. Not by a longshot.”
“Is there something I can do to help?” I asked in a solemn voice.
He grunted. “You? No way. You can’t get involved. It’s too dangerous.”
“I’m not afraid,” I said, meaning it. The more he talked about revenge, the more my stomach burned for it too. They couldn’t get away what they’d done to Andrew. “He was my brother.”
“I know but you’re… you’re just a girl.”
“I’m a woman,” I corrected. “And one who knows a few things.”
He groaned. “I… I shouldn’t be saying this stuff, especially on the phone. I gotta go, Ava.”
“Wait, give me your address. I’m going to stop by tomorrow, if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll text you,” he said and then hung up.
I put my phone away, snooped around my mom’s trailer a little while longer, and then packed a few things I wanted to take with me. I still didn’t know exactly what I was going to do with the trailer, but knew I wouldn’t be keeping it. I decided to return the following day and look through her financials, to see if she had a mortgage or owed any money on the place. Then I’d go from there.
An hour later, I returned to my condo and called Millie. We talked about the funeral and then confirmed our lunch plans again. Afterward, I took a shower, watched some television, and then lay in bed thinking about my conversation with Dwayne. The more I thought about his plan for revenge, the more I wanted to be part of it. Just like me, Andrew and been used by deviants and assholes. Ones who definitely deserved a bullet and a shovel.
Sighing, I decided that no matter what Dwayne said the next morning, I was going to get involved. Whether he liked it or not.
Chapter 8
Ava
I WOKE UP to the sound of my phone ringing early the next morning. It wasn’t a number I recognized, and the sun hadn’t yet risen, which usually meant no telemarketers. Curious, I reached over and picked it up from my nightstand.
“Hello?” I mumbled, closing my eyes again.
“Is this Ava Rhodes?” a male voice asked.
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“My name is Doctor Farrah and I’m calling from St. Mark’s Hospital. I’m sorry to call you so early, but there’s been an accident involving a friend of yours. Now, he’s in stable condition—”
“Who are you calling about?”
“Dwayne Bordellini. He asked us to call you.”
His words sent my heart racing. “Is he okay?” I asked, fully awake now.
“Yes. He suffered a head injury, but we were able to operate quickly enough. All in all, I think his prognosis is very good. He just needs to stay in the hospital for a few days. He also has a broken arm and some bruised ribs.”
I sighed in relief and then asked about the head injury.
“Nothing major. There was a little internal bleeding, but we managed to stop it. You should probably know that Mr. Bordellini admitted to being under the influence of alcohol, which resulted in the crash. Obviously, he’ll have to answer to the police when he’s able to. Fortunately, there wasn’t another vehicle involved. Just a tree,” he said with a smile in his voice.
That definitely meant a DUI. I groaned. “Can I come see him?”
“Of course.”
“St. Mark’s, you said?”
“Yes. He’s sleeping so don’t feel you have to rush. He’ll be fine. He just needs to rest.”
“Okay.” I thanked him and hung up.
A COUPLE HOURS later, I walked into Dwayne’s hospital room and winced when I saw the bandages around his head and arm. He was still sleeping, so I sat down next to him and stayed there until a nurse came to check his vitals. As she was finishing, he woke up, and that’s when he noticed me.
“Hey,” he mumbled, trying to keep his eyes open. “They called you, huh?”
“Yes,” I replied as the nurse smiled and stepped out of the room. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.”
“I bet. So…”
“I know. I fucked up. Badly. Do you know what happened to my car?”
“No. I don’t have any idea. I just heard that you hit a tree.”
He was quiet for a few seconds and then sighed. “So, nobody but me was hurt?”
“Sounds that way.”
Before he could say anything else, an attractive Middle Eastern man, wearing blue scrubs, stepped into the room with a clipboard.
“Hello, my name is Dr. Farrah,” he said, smiling at me and then at Dwayne. “I see you’re awake.”
“Unfortunately,” Dwayne replied. “My head hurts like a son-of-a-bitch.”
“I imagine it does. “He looked at me. “You must be Ava?” he asked me.
I nodded.
Smiling, Dr. Farrah looked at his clipboard. “Heachache aside, how exactly are you feeling, Mr. Bordellini?”
“Like I ran into a freight train,” he muttered.
“I’ll make sure they get you something for the pain,” the doctor replied and then did a quick examination.
“When can I get out of here?” Dwayne asked when he was finished.
The doctor explained that he’d need to stay for a couple of days, so they could monitor his head injury.
Dwayne groaned.
“It’s better than dealing with the cops at the moment, right?” Dr. Farrah said with a grim smile.
He sighed. “I suppose I’m in deep shit, huh?”
“I’d advise you to contact your lawyer and to take an Uber the next time you decide to drive while under the influence,” he replied. “Just so you know, a couple of officers will be checking in with you soon.”
“What a fucking mess,” Dwayne mumbled.
“Yes, but it could have been a lot worse. Next time, it might be,” Dr. Farrah said. “Anyway, I’ll stop back later and see how you are.”
“Thanks, Doc. Don’t forget the pain medicine,” Dwayne reminded him.
“I’ll get on that, too. It was nice meeting you,” he said to me before walking out of the room.
“So, where were you going last night?” I asked him.
“I was heading to Minnesota, if you want to know the truth.”
“Ah. From what it looks like, you’re going to need to postpone the trip,” I replied, sitting down next to him.
“Fuck that. Those guys are going to pay,” he muttered and then winced.
“I agree that they should,” I said. “In fact, I want to go with you.”
“I told you last night it’s not going to happen.”
“Why? Because I’m a woman?”
“Because…” he lowered his voice, “you’ve never done anything like this before and I’m not putting you in danger.”
“And you have?”
“I’ve come close to it for far less than this.”
“But you’ve never actually killed anyone?” I whispered.
“No, but those bastards murdered my boy so now I have to,” he said in a ragged voice.
“He was my brother,” I reminded him again.
“Stop it right now. I won’t allow it. Hell, chances are I won’t walk away from this myself,” he said, looking irritated. “Now, don’t argue about this with me. I’m not putting your life in danger.”
I sighed. “We’ll talk about it when you’re feeling better.”
“Bullshit. My mind is made up. You stay out
of this, Ava. I mean it.”
I stood up as a nurse walked in carrying a small paper cup of pills.
“Those for me?” Dwayne asked with a look of relief.
She smiled. “Yep. I hear you’re in a lot of pain.”
He grunted. “You can say that again.”
“I’m going to take off,” I said, picking up my purse. “We’ll talk later?”
He looked at me. “Yeah, but I’m not changing my mind.”
From the look on his face, I knew he wouldn’t, but that wasn’t my problem nor did I care. I wasn’t about to let him stop me.
I DROVE BACK to my mother’s trailer and began searching for her financial records. Fortunately, I found a file cabinet in the back of her closet with old bank statements and the deed to her trailer. I learned that it was paid off, but the owner was listed as Andrew, so I wasn’t sure what I needed to do with the place.
I smiled to myself. Although they’d had an estranged relationship, he’d made sure to keep a roof over her head, which made me love him that much more.
As I was going through some more of her records, my cell phone rang. Recognizing that it was the hospital again, I quickly picked it up.
“Ms. Rhodes? It’s Dr. Farrah again,” he said in a grim voice. “I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but Mr. Bordellini suffered a massive stroke shortly after you left. He… he didn’t make it.”
I gasped. “What?! A stroke? I thought he was doing fine?”
“So did I, Ms. Rhodes. Unfortunately, this came on very suddenly and there wasn’t anything more we could do. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
The doctor went on, but I barely heard him. This was the third death I’d endured in the last week, all of them people I’d known or cared about as a child. It was true what they said—death happened in threes.
“Do you know if he has any surviving family members?” Dr. Farrah asked.
I cleared my throat. “I don’t. I’m sorry. I have to go,” I said, picturing Andrew. As far as I knew, he’d been the only living relative. But the Gold Vipers had taken care of that.
Destroying the Biker (Book 8): (The Biker Series ) Page 4
