Broken Road

by Addison Kline

Ten rings.

  Twenty rings.

  One hundred and fifty-two taps of her nail on the dirty surface of the phone.

  Finally, Randy’s voice came over the line. Cheyenne closed her eyes as she listened to Randy’s husky voice, the voice she wished would talk to her. Whisper sweet nothings. Say he forgave her. Shit, curse her out for being a bitch. But as it was, Randy hadn’t returned any of Cheyenne’s calls. All sixty-seven of them.

  “Hi, you’ve reached Randy… Leave me a message… or don’t. I don’t give a shit. If I like ya, I just might call ya back.”

  Beep!

  Cheyenne sighed heavily. She knew she was over the top. Possessive. Somewhat controlling. But she loved Randy, and now, she needed him more than ever. But before Cheyenne had the chance to plead with him for the third time today, something had rendered her speechless.

  Cheyenne glanced behind her as she heard a pair of footsteps beating hard against the cracking linoleum floors of the Gas & Go mini-mart. As she glanced behind her, she recognized them immediately. Their sadistic smiles, black leather jackets with the Seventy Devils MC patch and the pungent smell of sweat and alcohol permeating into the air. Trent Myers and Gunnar Rhoades were beating a path straight towards her. Before she could run, before she could even scream, Gunnar Rhoades had stalked her straight into a corner. Grabbing a handful of her black and blonde hair, Gunnar drug Cheyenne behind him as she kicked, screamed and tried to break free. This could only end one way. Everyone around here knows the stories. The ones who go missing, were taken by the Devils. Cheyenne kicked free and crawled on her hands and knees trying to stand up into a run. She barreled down the aisle knocking over a kiosk of gift cards that could be purchased at the front register, sending the cards flying across the floor. Trent skidded as he chased behind her, but Cheyenne went down, sliding on the merchandise. As she hit the floor, Cheyenne heard the sharp crack of the butt of Trent’s rifle crashing into her skull. Cheyenne’s head fell limp as Gunnar and Trent pulled her from the shop and tossed her in the back of Gunnar’s black Hummer. She was unconscious but alive, just as requested by the new head of the Seventy Devils.

  As the busy signal echoed from the pay phone in the back of the shop, the shop clerk counted the greenbacks that were planted on the counter upon Trent and Gunnar’s arrival. It seemed you could pay off anyone in this town. But while most people’s loyalty could be bought, there were some who didn’t barter with the Devils. Those were the ones that usually ended up dead.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Torian took the back roads and kept a watchful eye on his rear view mirror. Whenever he saw a car creep closer, he drove a little faster. He whipped and weaved through the winding back roads that led out of Oakeley. He bypassed the ramp that led to Route 1 and headed for Steed Run which led through the countryside. It would be a longer drive, but if it meant that he got Averi back to the ranch safe and undetected that was all Torian cared about. Averi sat quiet looking out her window at the scenery whipping by. She tried to squash her worries, but had an uneasy feeling. Jimmy was impulsive. He had a slithering quality about him – she remembers even as a child he had it. The will to get his way. The refusal to take no as an answer. In this respect, he was exactly like his father. He was conniving. Relentless. But one thing Averi knew for sure, Jimmy’s heart and desire ruled over his mind. But with his mind falling, there was nothing to auto-correct Jimmy’s desperate attempts. He claimed what he felt for Averi was love. But if what he felt was really love, he wouldn’t feel the violent urges to hurt her. Hurt her for hurting him. The reality was he wanted what his brother had. The spoiled kid who had everything, including a mother who still walked this earth. What Colt wouldn’t give for Jessa to still be around. And the one thing Colt did have, Jimmy was jealous of. Averi had never given Jimmy the time of day, let alone show any signs of affection. For her, it was always Colt… and that’s how it would always be, whether Jimmy liked it or not.

  Torian heard the railroad bell sounding indicating that an oncoming train was about to pass through. He adjusted his mirror and his jaw tightened when he saw a pair of headlights coming up behind. Nervously, he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. Averi looked over at him.

  “Everything alright, T?”

  Removing the worry from his face, Torian looked over at Averi and put a fake smile on his face.

  “Just wonderful,” Torian said showing off his crooked smile.

  Averi smirked. “You’re a terrible liar.”

  “It’s this Hummer behind us… I’ve seen it around Oakeley.”

  Averi looked in the rear view mirror.

  “Come to think of it… So have I.”

  The black Hummer came to a complete stop behind them and the passenger door opened. A man dressed in black stepped out.

  “Torian. Go!”

  “Go?”

  “It’s Trent. GO!”

  The train was coming. Fifty feet away… Twenty five feet. Trent was coming up the passenger side of the vehicle. Averi locked her door.

  “Shit,” Torian said as he decided what the best course of action was.

  Trent was going to break the glass of Averi’s window. The train was fast approaching. Torian’s mind burned with indecision.

  “T! Go!” With the train just fifteen feet away, Torian slammed on the gas shooting his tiny car over the tracks.

  “Hold on!” Torian yelled as the back tires hit the ground.

  Averi clasped her stomach as Torian launched them over the tracks right in the path of an oncoming train. Three seconds is all that stood in the way of their immediate deaths. As the train careened by Trent screamed, throwing curses to the wind and Torian gave Averi a relieved glance and hit the gas. As the train stormed by, separating Trent from his prey, Torian gunned it for the ranch.

  ***

  “Forgive me father for I have sinned. It has been twelve years since my last confession,” Shawn said somberly into the box.

  He had not crossed the threshold of St. Catherine’s Catholic Church with the intention of seeking forgiveness, but into the confession box he knew he must go.

  “I’d recognize that voice anywhere, son…” Father Matthew Pierce said through the screen.

  “Father, I’m not here for forgiveness.”

  “Tell me, then, why have you come?”

  “You were my father’s friend.”

  “I was. I still am. I think of him often.”

  “Father, I have only done what I thought was right. To protect my family. My community.”

  “You operate with the highest integrity. Surely, you’re not doubting yourself?”

  “There is reason to doubt myself.”

  “What reason could you possibly have?”

  Shawn sighed and scratched the back of his head. He wasn’t sure if he could go further with this conversation. He trusted Father Pierce, though. Finally, he let the words he’d been hiding since August slip from his lips.

  “I killed Black Horse.”

  Father Pierce didn’t say anything, but Shawn saw his shoulders stiffen. He stood up, straight as an arrow and walked out of the confessional box.

  “Come out of the chamber, Shawn.”

  The church was empty. It was only the two men. Father Pierce began removing his robe, lying it carefully across a pew. When he was wearing just his street clothes, he faced Shawn with solemn eyes and said, “Follow me.”

  Shawn followed him out to the street and climbed into the Father’s car. They remained in silence for fifteen minutes as Father Pierce drove them some place quiet where they could talk. He pulled the car off to the side of the road, just outside a tiny pub called “The Irishmen’s Curse.”

  “This is a bar,” Shawn said sounding surprised.

  “Yes. It is. My very favorite.”

  “But you’re a priest.”

  “Shawn, no one is without sin. Now come inside and we will discuss this like men over a pint.”

  Looking shocked, Shawn followed behind Fa
ther Pierce letting the double doors of the pub swing behind him. Father Pierce found an empty table in the back of the bar where they could speak quietly.

  “Hey Matt…” the bar keep said as Father Pierce passed by.

  “Ah, Luke. Good to see you.”

  “You, too, Father.”

  Shawn was surprised to hear the bartender call Father Pierce by his Christian name. Sensing that Shawn had a question about it, Father Pierce answered, “Sometimes it is nice to escape the role once in a while.”

  The men sat down at the table and ordered a pair of beers. Removing his glasses, Father Pierce glanced at Shawn with a comforting gaze.

  “This is not confession and therefore I am not going to act as your priest.”

  “Okay…” said Shawn looking perplexed.

  “I was your father’s best friend, so I am assuming that you’d like to understand what he would have done if presented with the situation that fell into your lap?”

  “Yeah, exactly.”

  “You only need to look into the mirror. Your father would have done the exact same thing. I may be a man of the cloth, but I am a man with a living, beating heart. Tom was not a good person. I could not save him. His mother couldn’t either.”

  “I do not treat taking a life with little regard. It was something that I thought about for years.”

  “Did you know that I baptized him?”

  “You did?”

  “Two months or so before you. He screamed when the holy water fell on his head. He was inconsolable. No matter how much Anna cradled and tried to comfort him, he would squirm and cry at the top of his lungs. ”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that Tom McClain wasn’t right from the start. He seemed to have an allergy to anything good and wholesome. I don’t like speaking of anyone this way, but there was something adherently bad about him from the beginning. What seven year old do you know that goes around killing cats?”

  “He killed cats?!”

  “Yeah, don’t you remember all those cats went missing?”

  “Yeah, our cat Topper… She never came back.”

  “Now you know why. The point is, there was no redeemable quality to him. Taking a life is no laughing matter, but what so many fail to remember is how violent of a person he was.”

  A dark look crossed Shawn’s face.

  “I certainly haven’t.”

  “You prevented countless other deaths.”

  “I need to turn myself in. I’m trying to clean up the Devils’ nonsense first, though.”

  “You might not be able to. But it would be better to speak with the authorities rather than have them figure it out first.”

  “I know. Black Horse’s other son is after Averi.”

  “Well then, you know what you need to do.”

  “Am I understanding you correctly?”

  “This is not religious guidance. This is real life guidance. As your Godfather…”

  Shawn looked up at Father Pierce over his pint of beer.

  “You’re going to jail anyway. You might as well go out with a bang.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Devil’s HQ

  Cheyenne was aware without actually being awake, dipping in and out of a conscious state. Her feet drug across the asphalt parking lot as Trent Myers and Gunnar Rhoades pulled her from the truck and prepared to deliver her to Jimmy. Trent felt nothing for her. Not even a twinge of guilt for the act. They didn’t even bother walking through the front door of the club. They pulled her straight through the rubble, into dining hall, unlocked the basement door and tossed her down the steps. She fell down the stairs, hitting several steps on the way. A nail sticking up through the floorboard punctured through the skin on her leg. Her face scraped against the hardwood planks and with a crash she fell to the cement basement floor. As the heavy metal door shut, Cheyenne slipped into darkness.

  ***

  Shelly and Tim were waiting on the front porch when Torian and Averi pulled up, his car winding the curves like a bat out of hell.

  “What happened?!” Tim asked, rushing off the porch.

  “We were followed. Trent and Gunnar trailed us, but we lost ‘em back at the tracks.”

  “You’re positive that they didn’t follow you here?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Shelly ran down the steps to Averi, rushing to her to make sure that she was okay. In reality Averi was fairing better than Shelly.

  “I’m fine, Shell… I’ll be down, I need to find something…”

  “What do you need to find?”

  “His lawyer’s contact information.”

  “What’s the guy’s name…? I can look him up in my phone.”

  “I don’t remember. It’s one of the guys at my father’s old law firm, but I don’t remember which one.”

  Averi climbed up the stairs as quickly as she could. She bypassed the bedrooms and slowly took each of the steep attic steps to the top. Cracking open the attic door, she was astonished by all the boxes and bins that were stored there.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  She started ripping open boxes, looking for a business card or letterhead with the attorney’s name on it. All she wanted to do was get her husband and brother out of jail. Instead, she would need to rummage.

  This is what happens when you let the men pack, thought Averi.

  She found a box labeled “Legal Documents.” That sounded as good a place as any to start, but when she went through she just found a bunch of old tax returns. One by one, she ripped open the boxes and bins but turned up empty. She was about to give up when she saw a box that was taped shut. It was labeled “Random Shit.”

  “Knowing Randy… It’s in there…” said Averi. She beat a path across the attic dodging boxes and discarded items that had fallen out during her search.

  She reached for the box but it was on a high shelf that she could not reach. She stretched, standing on her tippy toes but still, she couldn’t even tip the box off with her outreached fingers.

  “Tim!” Averi called causing her brother’s nerves to go on edge.

  “Yeah?!” he said as he rushed up the stairs. You could tell by his tone that he thought that something was wrong.

  He poked his head into the attic, and when he saw his sister reaching for the box, he relaxed.

  “Help me get it down.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “The information on the attorney Colt spoke with at Dad’s old law office.”

  “Why don’t you just call information?”

  “It’s after hours. There was a cellphone number on the one envelope.”

  Tim reached out and grabbed the box placing it on a nearby table. Grabbing a box cutter, he sliced the tape that sealed the box closed and let Averi go through the contents. She didn’t have to look far. Sitting right on top of the box was an envelope from the law offices of Kelter, Peterman and Reis.

  “What’s that?” Tim asked as Averi picked up the envelope. It was unopened and postmarked just two days ago.

  “I’m not sure… But it’s unopened.”

  “Open it.”

  “It’s addressed to him…”

  “You need to open it. You’re his wife. He’s in jail. Just tear it open.”

  After a moment Averi decided that Tim was right. She dug her nail under a loose end of the envelope and tore it open. Pulling a letter from the envelope, Averi’s heart raced as she unfolded it. Her eyes scanned the words on the page, and as her mouth gaped open in shock, Tim grabbed it from her and read it out loud.

  Dear Mr. McClain,

  I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing to you today to advise that we have received notification from the State of Texas that a property formerly owned by Thomas J. McClain, has changed in ownership from the deceased to you. The property in question is the Pine Cress Steak House, 1424 Monument Avenue, Oakeley, Texas. The property deed is attached. Please contact me at the office should you have a
ny questions or concerns.

  Kind Regards,

  John Reis

  Attorney at Law

  Tim’s heart raced as he stared at his sister, back at the paper, then back at his sister. She grinned widely at Tim.

  “You know what this means, right?”

  “Your husband owns the Seventy Devils’ Headquarters…”

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  “Where is she?” Jimmy asked with a dark veil over his eyes. His drug use was becoming more apparent, and his mind was unraveling wildly out of sight.

  Smashing his cigarette butt into an ashtray, Trent replied, “Downstairs. Let’s get this over with.”

  Jimmy followed Trent downstairs. Gunnar was already down there and had hoisted Cheyenne up on a folding chair. Her legs and arms were bound and she had a strip of duct tape over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. Her eyes were bruised shut, blood stained her shirt and jeans and she was completely unrecognizable.

  Jimmy approached Cheyenne with a callous look on his face. He would stop at nothing to find out where Averi was and he was quite confident that Colt and Randy would not get released from jail until the morning. He had Officer Riley watching them like a hawk.

  Cheyenne’s chin slumped against her chest. Gunnar lifted it up, and her eyes squinted against the light. In one vicious swipe, Gunnar tore the tape from her mouth.

  “Are you prepared to tell me where Randy is living?”

  Cheyenne’s right eye lid opened just slightly and she could see Jimmy standing before her. He had about ten Devils behind him. Standing at Jimmy’s right hand, Trent stood with a gun pointed at Cheyenne’s head.

  “I asked you a question, girl… Where is Randy Ford living?”

  A smirk creased Cheyenne’s blood-stained face.

  “I’m not telling you shit!”

  The back of Trent’s hand whipped Cheyenne across her cheek. Her skin stung with pain, but she did not give him the pleasure of seeing her grimace. She spit blood onto the floor and glared up at him defiantly.

  “This girl has a death wish,” Gunnar said in a bored tone.