by Deja Voss
“Keep him alive, please. Unless you’re in serious danger.”
“I know, I know.” She rolls her eyes at me. “I never get to have any fun.”
I walk outside with her and watch her get on her bike. We’re lucky to have her in our lives. She never got to be a mom herself, but the way she’s taken us boys in is more than I can say for my own mother. I shoot a text to Gavin and the gang, telling them to get to my place as soon as they can.
Even though I’m feeling mildly relieved, we have a long night ahead of us. I definitely won’t sleep until I get Esther back here with me. What we’re going to do about Moses is a completely different story.
Right now though, I have to make a deal with the devil. I have to convince Morgan to take me to her, and even though it might be easy, it’s not going to be fun.
39
She picks up on the first ring. All the guys are gathered around in my kitchen, and Olive and Sloan are making sandwiches. Everyone is just watching me in silence, waiting for the next move.
“Put it on speaker,” Austin whispers, way too loudly. Gavin puts his hand over his mouth and punches him on the shoulder.
“Morgan, where are you?” I ask.
“Why?” she says in such an over the top way; that one little word completely gives her away.
“Well, I’m lonely,” I try to say convincingly as possible, trying not to throw up in my mouth. “I don’t know if you heard about Esther. I’m really sad, and I could use some comfort, if you know what I mean.”
She’s completely silent on the other end.
“You know, like the good old days.”
“What happened to Esther?” she asks. “I’ve been downtown all day, you know, running errands. Left straight from the campsite this morning right after you did. Then I went to the movies with some friends.” She’s being oddly specific. She’s building her alibi. It’s so fucking obvious I want to grab her by that blonde hair of hers and scream in her face until she tells me everything I want to know. Instead, I have to feign interest for the sake of saving Esther.
“Don’t play with me, baby girl,” I say. “I know you know where she is.”
“How do you know that? And you think I’m going to tell you that information? How does that serve me? Moses and I have a good deal going already.”
“What if I make you an even better one?” I say. “One where you don’t have to spend the next few years of your life pretending like you enjoy riding old man cock.”
“What are you saying?”
“What I’m saying is, you and I could potentially be in a really good position right now. And I’m not talking doggie style. If we put our heads together, this could mean a serious power move in the club.”
Olive slaps her hand over her mouth, fighting back her laughter.
“So what you’re saying is, I’m playing for the wrong team.”
“That’s a smart way to put it.”
“It’s pretty funny you mention that,” she says, laughing. “Esther said the exact same thing to me today.”
“She’s alive?” I ask.
“Sure is. I’m actually with her right now. Want me to put her on speaker?”
I gulp. This is where things are going to get rough. I know Esther is smart, but the thought of saying even one hurtful thing to her makes me physically ill.
“Brooks!” I hear her yelling. “Brooks! Come get me!”
“We’re going to have to kill her, you know,” I say.
“What?” Morgan asks, shock in her voice.
“We’re going to have to kill a lot of people if you want our plan to work. Moses, Esther, maybe even Gavin.” Gavin makes his fingers into a gun and points them right at me with a wink. They’re both silent on the other end of the line.
“It’s the only way, Morgan. Then I can finally be president, and you will be the queen of the Misfits. What do you think about that?”
“What about the other guys? What will they say?”
“They’ll never know, Morgan. They already think Esther is dead. I’m the only person who heard Moses on the phone with you. Gavin and Moses, it’ll be easy to frame that as a murder suicide or something. You know how those assholes go at it.”
I can hear Esther crying in the background.
“I don’t believe you,” Morgan says.
“Esther,” I say. “Can you hear me?”
Her sobs grow louder.
“I never loved you. I have been waiting for this day my whole life, the day I could get rid of you once and for all. You’re nothing but a whore to me. You got a gun, Morgan?” I ask. I know she can’t shoot for shit, she’s never learned, and she never carries, and I’m really hoping that today isn’t some one-off day that she decided she was going to.
“No,” she says.
“That’s too bad. Looks like I’m gonna have to come over there and handle this myself. Where are you?”
“I’ll meet you by the garage,” she says. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Alright. I’m coming for you, girl,” I say, praying that the right woman hears what I’m trying to say.
40
Esther:
I’m stunned. I sit here, alone in the dark, not really certain about what just transpired in front of me. Sure, I burst into tears when I heard his voice, mostly because I was worried I would never hear it again. It was instant relief knowing that he’s out there looking for me. Now he’s on his way here. The things that came out of his mouth, though. They were strange, hurtful, the kind of stuff my father warned me about. I’ve never seen him act like that before.
Crude, sure. Crass, definitely. Hurtful and power hungry? That’s not the Brooks I’ve known and loved. The bruises on my head don’t really give me any clue as to if I’m thinking straight or not. All I can do is wait it out. Wait it out in my little blanket fort, pee in a can, and eat random snacks my captors have slipped through the cracks of a cage.
It’s all very fucked.
I try not to think the man that I love is on his way here to kill me.
I try not to think that the man I love is going to murder my brother and father, too.
I try not to think that my father is the one who put me in this position to begin with.
All I can do is wait.
The funny thing is, I’m not even remotely upset at Morgan. Sure, she’s throwing me under the bus here, and willingly, but that’s all she knows. That’s what this life has taught her. When you’re done with someone, you just get rid of them, especially if they’re getting in the way of what you want.
It feels like hours go by, sitting here in the dark, and for some reason, I’m not scared. I learned a long time ago that trying to imagine what’s in store for me doesn’t get me ready for the fight I have to face.
I hear the steel door swing open. The overhead lights flicker on, and my eyes struggle to adjust to the sudden brightness. I squint until I can make out the two figures in front of me. Morgan is back, and she has Brooks with her. She’s holding his hand. I look into his eyes, trying to get a good read on what he’s thinking, but he just looks blank, as if seeing me here, pathetic and weak, is making him shut down.
“Here she is,” Morgan says. “I don’t have a key to this cage, though.”
“That’s ok,” Brooks says. “Once Moses is gone, you and I will be the only people who know this place exists anyway. We can fill the steps in with concrete once we’re done here if it’ll make you feel better, babe.”
“Are you here to kill me?” I ask, my voice trembling.
“Maybe,” Morgan says. “Or maybe we’re just here to torture you. You know, like you’ve tortured me all these years. Everyone’s always liked you more, and you were never afraid to rub it in my face. Everyone thinks you’re all that, that you hold this club together. Where’s everyone now, Esther? Hell, the man you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with is standing here with a loaded gun.”
“You think we should torture her?” Broo
ks asks. “What do you have in mind?”
“Guys, seriously, just fucking get it over with so you can move on with your plan. I get it. You both hate me. I’m a terrible person. It’s time for me to die. The only thing I can hope is that when you try to kill my brother, he’s not locked in a cage, helpless like me. If ya’ll are going to be taking over the club, you’re gonna have to be a little fucking harder than that.”
“Shut up, Esther,” Brooks says. He grabs Morgan by the back of her head, tugging her hair back like he’s about to kiss her on the lips. I put my hands over my eyes. As much as I should hate him right now, I feel like seeing him with another woman would be worse than him actually killing me.
“You like it rough, don’t you, Brooks,” Morgan purrs. “Show me how you like it.”
I watch through my fingers as he strokes the side of her face. In one swift move, he has her pinned up against the wall, her hands behind her back in one hand, as he uses his free hand to loosen his belt.
As he loops the leather around her wrists, she lets out an “ouch!” that leads me to believe this isn’t something sexy happening in front of me. He’s staring right at me, a wicked smile across his gorgeous face. I stand up and walk to the edge of the cage, feeling around for the lock.
“Gimme your gun,” I say to him sternly, as soon as I find it.
“Hey!” Morgan shouts, as he pulls his gun from his holster and passes it to me.
I shoot the lock off, the kickback from the pistol sending me flying across the cell.
“Boy, I had you pegged all wrong,” I say to Morgan. Brooks has her on her knees and I tower over her, shaking my head at how pathetic she is. “I used to think you were just stupid, but now it’s perfectly clear you’re also a cunt.”
“Jeez,” Brooks whistles. “Throwing c-bombs now?”
“Too far?” I ask.
“Nah. You want to punch her or something? I totally would, but my father raised me better.”
“Mine didn’t,” I say, laughing, kicking her square in the jaw. She falls on her back with a groan. “Shit, Morgan, I’m not even wearing shoes. If you’re gonna run with the big dogs, you’re gonna have to learn to take a hit better than that.”
Brooks picks me up in his big strong arms and I wrap my legs around his waist, pressing my lips to his, even though it hurts like hell.
“Esther, you’re bleeding from your mouth,” he says, pulling away.
“Sorry. I’m gross.” I am probably a sight to behold right now. I’m still wearing the green lingerie my dad scooped me up in, and I haven’t really assessed the full damage to my body because it’s been so dark in here, but if it looks half as bad as it feels, I’m sure I’ve earned some battle scars.
“You’re not gross,” he says, setting me down on the ground, looking over my entire body with the most loving eyes. “I just don’t want to hurt you. You’ve been through enough today. I want to take you home and take care of you, get you all cleaned up and let you rest, but I’m afraid there’s a lot of people waiting to see you first.”
“Guys, I was just kidding!” Morgan yells from the floor. “I was just playing a prank. I was going to tell the guys where you were all along, Esther. I was going to save you, I swear.”
“You’re really not pretty when you lie, Morgan,” I say. “But I will give you credit for saving me. If you wouldn’t have been so dumb and greedy, Brooks never would’ve found me. Where are we even?”
“Apparently your dad has a little secret stash bunker we didn’t know about. This place is loaded with contraband.”
“Where is my dad?” He hugs me tight again, burying his face in my hair, squeezing me so hard I can’t breathe.
“He’s being taken care of.”
Never has it come to this in the history of the Mountain Misfits. Never has one man committed such atrocities against the club. Maybe he could be forgiven for orchestrating my kidnapping, finding a way to justify his actions and saying it was for the greater good, but a stash house full of club property is an entirely different kettle of fish.
There are written rules about these things.
Written rules that we don’t even speak of because they never have been broken.
“We’re not doing anything until tomorrow,” Brooks says, as I sob into his chest. “You want to see him?”
All the torment, all the abuse I’ve suffered, even the last twenty-four hours of my life, and I still think of this cruel and disgusting man as my father. I still love him.
But he broke the club rules, and the club, well, it’s bigger than us. It runs deeper than blood. He sealed his fate by fucking us over.
“I’ll see him tomorrow in the shed,” I say. “Let’s get this bitch locked up. I want to go home.”
“You shot the lock off, dumbass,” Morgan says, her face bloody and her eyes wild.
“You’re right. I did,” I say, pretending like I’m shocked by that revelation. “Why don’t you just come on out with us, then? I’m sure everyone up top will be really happy to see you.”
“Please,” she begs, for nothing in particular except not having to be judged by a militia of her peers, who are likely wielding knives and guns.
“Stay down here for the night,” I tell her. “I’ll make sure nobody hurts you, but as soon as I call you, you better disappear. I mean it. No more contact with anyone. You better not ever come back up on this mountain again. Do you understand?”
“Why are you being kind to me?” she asks, tears running down her face.
“I guess it’s just in my nature,” I say. I know I don’t owe her anything, especially after she tried to double dick me over, but I also know my father is a master manipulator, and Brooks is perfect and gorgeous and brilliant and any woman would like have done the same thing in her situation.
“You ready?” Brooks asks me. His hand hasn’t left my body since we reunited. He takes off his sweatshirt and slides it over my head and he scoops me up in his big strong arms effortlessly. I don’t protest at all; I just enjoy the comfort of being held by him, every fear I’ve had about our life together and our future irrelevant right this second. “Let’s go home.”
We walk up a set up steps and out a door, into the darkness of the night. The cold air hits my face and I shiver in his arms, his sweatshirt not doing much in terms of covering my legs.
“Next time I get kidnapped, I need to remember to throw on some sweatpants,” I giggle.
“You’re never getting kidnapped again, Esther. You’re never leaving my sight.”
I can feel his heart beating through his chest. I know he’s upset, and I know my jokes aren’t helping. Olive and Sloan come sprinting at us full force from across the field as soon as they spot us, their faces streaked with tears.
“Why are you guys crying?” I ask. Brooks reluctantly sets me down as I squirm out of his arms so I can hug my friends.
“I don’t know,” Olive whines, brushing my hair out of my face, tracing her fingers over the wounds on my cheek. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Sloan is hugging me so tight I start dry heaving. “It’s ok, woman,” I laugh nervously. “Everything is going to be ok.”
“I always knew he was dangerous,” Sloan whispers in my ear. “I just never wanted to hurt your feelings by talking shit on your dad. I’m sorry. I should’ve done more.”
The crew has gathered around us in a circle, standing around nervously with their hands in their pockets.
“We all should have done more,” a voice I haven’t heard in ages says. I turn to look at my brother Goob, and I feel like I’m going to start crying as I take off running into his arms. “I’m sorry, Esther.”
“Everybody, stop,” I say, looking around at my family, my friends, my brothers and sisters of the Misfits. “We can’t do anything about the past. All we can do is get excited about the future. Things are about to change for all of us. I appreciate you guys, but tomorrow is going to be a hard day. Let’s go home and get some sleep.”
I
hug everyone and say my goodbyes while Brooks hovers over me. The lights from the four-wheelers fade into the darkness, and it’s just the two of us left standing in the field.
“That goes for you, too, Brooks. The past is over.”
“Almost,” he says somberly. I know he’s worried about tomorrow. I know it hurts his heart thinking about what has to be done. “You don’t have any shoes,” he says. He picks me back up and carries me through the woods, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see the light shining through our kitchen window.
41
Brooks:
I don’t know how she’s acting so calm, nonchalantly grabbing a few bottles of beer from the fridge for us, wandering around the house in that green lingerie, talking to the cat, her body covered in bruises and her face covered in blood.
She keeps making idle chitchat with me, asking about ‘what do you want for dinner tomorrow?’ and ‘can I paint the kitchen yellow?’. It’s weird. It’s making me uncomfortable. I’m mentally wiped and on the verge of a nervous breakdown, trying to process everything that happened today, and she’s damn near tap-dancing through the hallways. She comes down from the bedroom with a pair of shorts and a t-shirt on, her red hair thrown up in a sloppy bun, and grabs the keys to her truck off the countertop.
“Where are you going?” I ask her.
“We need a comforter. I have one in storage. I’m just going to go grab it.”
“Babe, we have one in the spare room. It’s going to be ok.”
“I just want to go get this other one real quick; I’ll be right back.”
“Esther,” I say, blocking the front door with my body. “It’s four in the morning. It can wait.”
Her hands are trembling, and her jaw begins to quiver. She’s fighting back tears.
“Let me go,” she roars.
“Hell no,” I say, grabbing her wrist.
“I can’t do this,” she shouts.
