I don’t even finish my cigarette and I’m flicking it on the ground before pacing the sidewalk. Then I light another one, because I’m pissed. And I just realize I wanted the first one I threw out.
“What time?” his voice barks across the line.
“What? What time?” I think back to everything that just fell out of my mouth in the last breathy lengthy sentence. “What the fuck do you mean, what—?”
“What hospital you at, Vagabond?”
“I-I…” I glance around my surroundings. And when my eyes land on the blue and white symbol beside the name of the hospital, I mutter out exactly what I see. “I’m at Florida Hospital Memorial Medical Center, off I-95. Why?” I look up as Ty comes out of the hospital.
“Hey, your mom has a room,” he whispers, and I nod, holding my hand up.
“Dreads just booked you a flight. Your plane leaves Daytona Beach International at eight tomorrow morning. Sorry, Pipsqueak, that was the soonest available flight. Get your ass up here, now. I don’t know exactly what’s going on, nor do I know where your sister is and until I do, I want what’s mine tucked in close to home. Not that you’re mine. And not that this is your home. But—I just want to make sure you’re safe, okay, kid?”
“I’m not coming there. Alone. Who do you think you’re talking to? How stupid do you think I am? I’m not—Pfft,” I scoff at him. “I’m not fucking coming up there,” I tell him as Ty’s eyebrows begin creeping up. But I shake my finger at him, mouthing, “No.”
I’m not freaking going up there. There’s no way in hell. No matter what he says, or how he delivers his argument. I’m not his soldier. I chuckle at the thought.
“I may have been sold, but honey, I’m not your soldier. Please don’t ever forget that shit, either, Jacques. If you know where my sister is at, just tell me. I’m not doing a damn thing you say. Besides, I have to stay here and take care of my mother. I have to make sure I’m available for the authorities in case they have any more questions about my sister’s disappearance. I have work tomorrow night!” I scream into the phone as Ty guides us back to the car.
The closer we get to his little red car, the less his head stops popping up to check for voyeurs the louder my voice crawls on our way as he huddles—huddles me towards the inside of the car.
“Your mother has some of the best care available being served to her in one of the nicest hospitals in the south. You can’t help her when they already are. Your sister is missing, and I’m afraid I don’t know a better way to tell you this, Vagabond, other than just say it—I’m not so certain it’s her missing that we need to be worried about. I’m more concerned whether or not she’s breathing. Especially with the motherfuckers who’ve shown up on my front door steps, twice, hailing a raining fire of bullets. The first time taking out not only me, but my pops and half of my fucking club. And the note they left this morning after their second attack on us around midnight? Spouting some shit about a mother and a daughter and a club called No Name No Colors. And I can’t think of another little girl I know named O’Malley. Can you?”
I’m frozen. Standing just outside Ty’s car despite his efforts to huddle me into it, with my hand to my ear around my iPhone and my mouth hanging open. And I can’t move. I can hardly freaking speak. “W-what’d it say, Jacques? What the hell did the note say?”
“Pipsqueak, if you don’t come to me, I’ll come to you. They’ve killed my uncle. Found him last night in New Orleans. You know anything about that, Eve? Why your daddy’d want my unc dead? You find that shit on Google? You want to know what the note said? Get your ass on that plane. Otherwise I’ll be by your house in a few days. We’re riding a last ride—without my uncle’s son. Because like your sister...he also suddenly can’t be found.”
“What time?” I repeat his earlier words, only much meeker than he said them. I look over to Ty when I buckle myself into his car, shrugging around my phone.
“Eight am. Clutch said he’ll be there to pick you up. He’s the short stocky brother...big ole beer belly. Long beard and hair.” He chuckles. “And you might wanna bring my ma’s necklace. I’mma teach you a thing or two about praying. Now that you got yourself a crucifix. I’ll be here waiting on ya, Vagabond.”
Then the line goes dead. And I’m left sitting there in the parking lot of the Florida Memorial Medical Center in my best friend’s car with my mouth hanging open. Again. How is he going to teach me anything about praying? I don’t think he realizes how different Eden and I freaking are.
“I’m not going by myself,” I tell both Ty and Jacques. But only Ty listens. Bastard, Jacques hung up! “What a freaking prick!” I shout before tossing my phone in my bag. “He wants me to go up there. What he said did make sense, but still.” I shake my head, not even—okay, somewhat thinking about it.
“Ahh...still, fine as he is, though, honey, he drugged and kidnapped you! That’s not okay!” His wide eyes look from the road back to mine. “Right? Like, in hetero world, that’s not acceptable, right?” He winks at me. “Well, no—you’re not going. Not unless I can go, but I’ve got to work tomorrow. I can try to get off this weekend, though.”
But I stop him before he gets too far. “No, Ty. The ticket was already bought and paid for. Besides, my damn family’s not the only one involved in this, I think.”
In case you’ve been wondering all this time where my head's at, I can’t tell you. And I can’t tell you because I don’t think the ramifications of what exactly is going on here have dawned on me just yet. Actually, I know they haven’t, not until this moment. Right this second.
“There’s not going to be any answers here, is there, Ty? Not until Ilsa wakes up?”
He shakes his head before redirecting his attention fully on the traffic. “The cops won’t find anything here, sweetie. She’s never even been a registered resident in the State of Florida. And the only other person that can provide you answers at the moment is, unfortunately, unconscious. So, no. The likelihood of you finding out something here is nil to none, but still—you’re not going a damn place without me. And I can’t leave until I can get off.”
“Well then we’re not going. He said if I don’t come to him, he’d come to me. Something about a last ride. They found his uncle in New Orleans. Freaking dead. I don’t know when, but from what I could gather, it was recently.”
“Oh my God! What’s that mean? What’s a last ride?” he asks as we take the exit off I-95.
“Just like I said, hell if I know. I don’t know anything right now. And I fucking hate it. I hate the feeling. I hate it, Ty. I don’t like not knowing anything!”
“I know you don’t, dove. I know you don’t.” He pats my knee. “All in good time. Just keep telling yourself everything is okay. At least until it’s not. Deal?” he asks as he pulls into my driveway.
“Deal.”
***
Jacques called, probably five minutes after my plane should’ve landed in NYC, had I taken the flight he paid for. Afterward, he called every hour on the hour...for almost twenty hours straight. And then his phone calls just stopped.
I don’t like confrontation. And I didn’t want to tell him I’m afraid to go up there. Alone. And what? Just waltz into the same MC I did ten years ago? Only this time alone? Oh, hell no. There’s no way in hell I’m going up there without Ty. And Lauryn’s still breastfeeding, so dragging her into an MC club that’s recently been riddled with bullets, during what I can only assume were drive-bys, looking for my missing sister and the murderer of Jacques Cain’s uncle, while possibly blaming Ben, his cousin? I really doubt she’d go. She’s probably got plans. Lame, mother-like plans, but still—I bet she’s busy.
To say I was pissed when I pulled into Eve O’Malley’s driveway a day and a half after she missed her flight is putting it mildly. But it was when I not only saw her vehicle in the driveway, but Ty’s too...well, you may as well insert a maniacal laugh here.
I was past pissed. I was fucking livid.
I don’t think th
is damn girl has ever been taught a lick about respect or protocol. By anyone. Now, I know it seems like I don’t know her from Adam, but she and I are on a different plan. We don’t tick like most, and neither does our ‘relationship’, if that’s what you want to call it.
So where I would normally never just walk into yours, or anyone else’s home I hardly know, Eve...is different. And for reasons I still can’t fucking explain, I feel protective of her. Almost, responsible for her. Which is an absurd new development, because she’s nothing to me. She’s not family, she’s not a brother’s family, she’s...nothing.
Which is confusing as fuck, because the first thing I thought when I read that goddamn letter Clutch found, was that it couldn’t be her. Vagabond just came back into my life. And I’m not sure why she kept popping up in it before, but now...this time I don’t want her gone for so long. Actually, I don’t want her gone at all.
I’m sick and fucking tired of always saying goodbye to that girl. This is it for her; she’s not my goodbye girl anymore. She’s my girl. She just doesn’t know it yet. Oh, but she will. She fucking will.
I don’t even test the door to see if it’s locked. I just turn that bitch at the exact same time my shoulder connects with it, just before I slam it open.
“Eve Of’FuckingMay O’Malley. Get your ass in the living room. Right goddamn now. Front and center, mami!” I didn’t have to shout, I just simply spoke.
One of the culprits is sitting at the coffee table having what looks like a pizza picnic in the middle of the living room floor. Dixie cups and Jack Daniels lined up. Well, lined up on Eve’s side, who hasn’t even made it out of her work uniform yet from the looks of it. Eve stumbles from the kitchen with a salad in each hand when my words finish ringing out in the small space. Well, the salad bowls were in her hands. But when I came through the door, barking demands, they hit floor.
Ty has only had one drink, judging from the solo dixie cup in front of him. Ty’s hand holding the pizza to his mouth, mid-bite, freezes and I heard both of them scream after my words rang out. Very loudly, and very feminine. I just leaned back against the column between the foyer and main room before slowly shoving my hands in my front pockets. After making silent eye contact with first Eve then Ty, I settle my eyes back on Eve.
“Said front and center.” I nod to the area of carpet between us. “I meant front and center.”
Her mouth gapes open before flapping closed. “There’s glass. No. I’m not walking through it.”
Before the word ‘No’ has left her lips, I’ve made it across the room and I’m ten inches—coincidence? Nah—from her face, backing her against the wall. And as my eyes narrow on hers, it takes a lot to hold back the chuckle when Ty shrieks in response to how fast I move.
“Have you ever heard of the word ‘respect’, Vagabond?” I speak, clearly annunciating every syllable of every word. “Or Protocol, perhaps? Either of those ever been stressed to you in your life?”
“I-I what?!” I just continue glaring into her eyes. And now that all the funny bullshit my entrance caused is over, I feel my earlier anger flaring back. I tip my head to the side, waiting for her response. But when there isn’t one, my already thinning patience begins to snap.
Without even looking in Ty’s direction, I pull my business card out of my back pocket and flick it towards him. Keeping my eyes trained on Eve’s dark brown ones, I direct my words at her friend. “Ty, there’s my information. I’m passing through, last ride and all for my unc—we’re headed to the Keys to release his ashes. I want you to know…” I look from Eve to Ty, “…man to man—I’ve been responsible for this little pipsqueak several times before. And as I’m sure you know, I’m not a stranger, no matter what she may be currently professing these days. And I realize this is a lot to ask, especially since this is the first time you and I’re officially meeting, but I’mma have to regretfully ask you to step out, bro. I really need you to leave, but I’ll settle with you stepping out. And before you get any ideas, my brothers have this whole damn place surrounded.” I nod towards the front porch. “So if you’re packing, I’d leave that shit in the house before stepping off that front porch. I’d hate for some friendly fire to happen here tonight. I’m already pissed at this one.” I nod at Eve before cutting my eyes to hers, and slowly face her. “You’re in so much trouble, Pipsqueak.” I shake my head at her before slowly chuckling. “So much trouble. You have been bad. And we can’t afford that, baby—not with all this shit that’s going on.”
I cut my eyes back to her friend, wondering, ‘What the hell’s he still doing here?’ “Ty!” I bark, and have to bite the inside of my cheek when he shoots two feet off the ground, spins midair, and heads for the front door.
“Yep, know the story. Know the tears. I got your number. Don’t expect me to not pester the shit out of you now, either. Probably from this day forward. ‘Til death do us part, and all that jazz. We’re contacts now. Eve. Remember what we talked about. The only way birth control is effective is if you hold the pill between your kneeees! Oh, and find out what you can about your old man. Err...biological father. Eden too. I’ll be at the hospital with your mom; it’s my day to wash her hair. Text me when it’s cool for me to come back here.” He looks at me, then back to Eve. “I don’t want you being alone. Period.” After he kisses the air, he winks at me and leaves.
Once a good bit of time passes and neither one of us say anything, I clear my throat, but I don’t let another inch besides the ten come between us. “What have the authorities told you? About your mom. Was her attacker found? Was it random? Like was anything stolen or—” Eve holds her hand up between us, shaking her head.
“No,” she replies before turning around.
And for the first time, I glance at the mess scattered at our feet and curse. “Shit.” Then I’m forced to put even more inches between us. I squat down, and motion for her to continue as she turns back towards me.
“No. It wasn’t random.” She shrugs, kneeling beside where I’ve stooped down and begun picking up pieces of salad and glass from the floor. Then she starts pitching in, and we both toss the chunks of tomatoes and lettuce in a bigger section of a broken piece of bowl. When her voice lowers to barely a whisper, she continues, “It’s just no one knows who could have done it. I mean, yeah, Mother’s done her fair share to piss off a lot of people, but not like this. At least no one I know.”
As she quickly stands, she grabs the piece of bowl with most of the salad piled in it, and tosses it in the trash just inside the kitchen. When she returns in front of me, she doesn’t bend back down to help me finish cleaning up. Instead her voice is shrieking at me. “Because no one in my life, or her life. I mean my life!” She sighs before she seems to gather her words. “I don’t usually hang out with aggressive people. My life consists of cocktails, hair shears, ammonia, and peroxide. Not bullets and black leather, or fucking motorbikes!” When she stills, it’s like watching a double-sided mirror flip. And pride swells inside my chest.
Oh, she’s pissed. Yeah, she is eyes flying back and forth between mine, teeth gritting pissed one second, and then she’s as poised and calm as she can be the next. I watch in awe as her composure visibly gathers around her.
“As for my sister, I don’t really know. That’s why I keep asking you about Ben. There was a missing person’s report filed, but that’s here in Florida. And with her history...even with Mother’s incident, they’re not going to look into it anymore than that. No one will. If she is missing, she didn’t go missing from here. You heard the letter. I don’t even know where her dad is getting that she’s missing.” She sadly smiles. “It’s what she does. She disappears. I don’t like it any more than the next person. Hell, I wish I could learn how to.”
And I’m not sure why, but her words...I don’t like them. At all. “Learn how to what?” I ask from my spot squatting down on the floor. “Disappear?” I abruptly stand before dusting my hands off on the front of my worn out jeans. When I’m standing close enough
to her, I cup my hands around her face and when it’s tilted up to mine, and I’m looking between her dark brown eyes, I whisper, “Oh, hell, Vagabond. You can run, but you can’t hide. There’s no disappearing on me. We’re through with the goodbye girl shit. Our paths have crossed one too many times. And you, little missy, are stuck with me. At least until we can find out what the hell is going on here. You and me are gonna be stuck like glue. Understood?” I chuckle when her face blanches.
And when she goes to protest, I lay my pointer finger across her lips. “Shh. We got shit to figure out. Yeah? You want answers?” I quirk my eyebrow and smirk when she nods. “And do you really think you’re gonna get them from the authorities? Or the legal way? With all the red tape and shit?” I ask, pulling my finger away from her lips.
Her eyes flutter closed, and her tongue sweeps out, licking her lips, then she opens them. However, instead of sultry brown eyes gazing into mine, I see nothing but steel resolve staring back at me. “Where is Ben?”
“I don’t know.”
She sighs before taking a breath, and starts again. “Where’s my sister?”
Shit.
“I don’t know.”
“And how the hell are you supposed to help me any more than the police if you don’t know shit? And what? You were pissed because I didn’t fly up there to your club? Is that why you slammed in here like the damn Hulk and made Ty leave?” She motions towards the rest of the salad on the floor. “Clean this shit up. I’m going to take a shower.” She gestures to her clothes. “As you can see I just got off. And it’s been a shitty few days. So excuse me if I prefer to get wasted before I stumble into the shower after that hellish shift at Charlie’s. But I’m fucking tired. And I wanna shower before I eat, Capiese?”
If I Should Die: A Kimber S. Dawn MC Novel Page 19
