"Jesus Christ. Next time when I need a Steel Jockey killed, I'll do it myself," Fox said, glaring at Nando. He stood and brushed himself off. "You know, Ryan, you've got a good act going for you. I mean, it ain't Shakespeare, but I could see it off-Broadway at least."
"What, with your pathetic jokes as an opener?" growled Joe.
Fox laughed. "They’re no more pathetic than a poor kid scrabbling for the brass ring.” He held up the small gold key in his hand.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Joe.
“Come on, guys, really? I'm seriously the only one here who knows this thing was more than a cute little bauble from Ruby’s old man?" He looked pointedly at Joe, who swallowed, looking frantically from the necklace to Ruby to Fox.
"He didn't know what it was," she said. "He couldn't have known." But Joe’s amber eyes suddenly hidden in shadow.
"Why do you think he's kept you around this whole time? Out of loyalty? Esteem? Sentimentality?" Fox sneered. "When Nando found him, he'd already pried it open. How much do you want to bet his next stop was Oakland? Then Rio? Or Hong Kong?"
"But--but he gave it back to me!" she insisted.
"Only when you forced him to. Look, he knew that red ice on your neck was his ticket out of this shithole. Look at this kid." Ruby's eyes fell on the golden intensity in Joe's eyes, his blond hair matted and dusty against his face, the righteous clench of his jaw, his collarbone rising up and down above the t-shirt and hoodie, the bulletproof vest he wore. When she'd seen him burst in, she thought she'd never seen anything so beautiful, as when he'd found her in the desert and knelt down, holding the bottle to her lips like an angel. Now she didn't know what to think. "He's smart, ambitious, ruthless. And pretty; my god. Hell, I’d do him if I were you. Sure he might have crawled up out of a ditch to begin with, but let's face it; he’s more than just your garden-variety thug. He could do anything, be anyone. But this isn't a Dickens novel, and orphans don't always get a tidy inheritance from some long lost uncle, as you well know. All he needed was the cash. He and your dear departed brother thought they had it all figured out a year ago. Undercutting the Kalashnikov racket was just for starters. Yes, the president and vice president of the Steel Jockeys teamed up to rob their own M.C. blind."
Joe looked at the ground, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. Horrified, Ruby dug her fingers into the carpet.
"Then your boy got a little too clever," Fox went on. "He figured why take one and a half million when you can have three? Of course I don't have to go into detail about what happened next, but let's just say that before Kyle started begging Nando for his life, his words concerning his best friend Joseph Ryan were none too complimentary." Ruby felt a tear running down her face, consumed by the blackness of her brother's last moments, the ones she tried so hard to force down so deep inside her that she'd never have to think about them again. “When the rest of the Jockeys pressured him into going to find you, he figured this was his chance at the fortune that slipped out of his hands the first time. All he needed was to buy some time. Luckily, when you've got a nice piece of ass just sitting around, that can be easy and fun. Don’t you agree, Ryan?"
Ruby looked from Fox to Joe, her ears buzzing, heart rapping against her chest. Joe bowed his head. "Joe, say something!" she screamed.
"What can he say? He's an outlaw," Fox snapped. "Outlaws lie. Hey, I should know.” He shrugged. “You’re smart, Ruby. I would have thought you'd have figured that out by now. But then again, pretty faces and nice abs do have a way of making even smart girls stupid."
Joe opened his mouth, terror and heartache swirling in his eyes, as if he were trying to think of something, anything, he could say to make it right. She knew it wasn't true; it couldn't be, that the young man who had saved her life, who had laughed with her, healed her, saved her, and made love to her as if it was last night alive, could be false. She couldn't have been that blind. She could read people, and, even when he tried to hide it, she had read nothing but truth and honesty behind his perfect face, and read nothing but truth and honesty now.
"I love you, Ruby."
She opened her mouth. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spied movement between the blinds. Somebody, the housekeeper she supposed, or the last guest, had rolled them up the wrong way--instead of with the openings on the bottom, they were on the top, allowing her a perfect view of the copse of trees ridging the road. Something moved imperceptibly there, a large, rather rotund figure with a beard. If she'd been three years old, she might have taken it for Santa Claus. Before she quite knew what she was doing, she started talking, not daring to look at Joe.
"Love? You're kidding me, Joe, right? That's the best you can do?" she demanded. "You know what I think about the Jockeys. You think I would be dumb enough to fall for him?" She forced a laugh from her throat, gesturing over toward Joe with her thumb. "I saw what the good life was like with you, Fox. Why would I ever settle for living in some shithole? He's lucky I even let him look at me, let alone touch me.” A slow smile was spreading on Fox’s face. “That was my mistake. What can I say, we all get lonely."
"So I did you teach you something after all, Ruby. You do know where you belong." Fox smiled. "And where he belongs: the gutter he crawled out of." Fox sat down beside her on the bed, and she collapsed into him, chest heaving, careful not to look at Joe. "Now that that’s settled," he said, "all you have to do is tell me where your brother hid the money."
She faltered, her plan to stall him falling apart before her eyes. "But I don't--"
Fox reached for her, dragging back toward the bathroom, thick with steam, as if from running water. “Think back. I know you do. And when you remember, we can pretend this whole thing never happened. I'll even give you your fair share. After all," he said, as he led her over to the bathtub. The corners of his mouth turned up; he shrugged and offered a rakish smile, as casually as if he'd been back at the dealership, presenting her with a commission check. "You earned it."
“No.”
“Then this should help.” He plunged her head in the water, which had been kept boiling for no other reason than to torture her. A corona of fire, like being dragged through the tunnel of hell, no thoughts left her in mind, as her lungs filled like two balloons ready to burst, cowering away from the prick of a needle. A hand grabbed her, and the anvil crushing her was lifted. She was alive. “It’s okay,” Joe said, kissing her. But how could he be here, when Fox’s men had guns?
“Joe,” she screamed, as he wrenched her away from Fox. From Nando’s gun, there was a bang like the world ending, and Joe fell. She watched him drift away from her like a desert mirage, too terrible to feel or to contemplate.
“Finally,” said Fox, grabbing a hunk of her hair.
She screamed, reached under her jacket and t-shirt to the leather corset, pulling out the knife Holly had given her. She waved it wildly; her eyes were half-closed, stabbing like a berserker, even in her disoriented state managing slashing at Fox's arm, rending his shirt. Roaring in pain, Fox twisted her arm backward, pinning her against the tile wall, reaching for her throat with one hand, then the other, compressing her windpipe. She tried to scream, but it was worse than her worst nightmare. Her throat closed, useless, as the life ebbed away.
All of a sudden, chaos reigned as Colt, A.J., and Rex burst through the motel room door, brandishing weapons. Bullets fired and glass broke as she saw one of Fox's men slump to the ground, then another. Ruby's eyes went red. On the other side of the room, she saw one of Aaron's Mexican thugs fall, then another. Rex screamed.
Suddenly, release. She heaved; the pressure had fallen away; Fox’s body collapsed like a puppet on a cut string. Shaking, Ruby raised her head as she looked beyond to where Aaron Beeson lay in a pool of his blood, staring at nothing, his hand still on the trigger.
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
Outside the dealership, Ruby perched on a stone planter, staring up at the empty sign where "Fox Keene Harley-Davidson" had once been spelled out, the l
etters still partly visible. She hadn't yet decided what to replace it with. It wouldn't be her own name, though she now owned the dealership free and clear, thanks to the contents of the vault: the Russian money Kyle had skimmed off from Fox. It was now hers. What paper trail there was would point to two dead men, and Ruby’s new Swiss personal banker was remarkably discreet.
The door to the dealership opened, and George McCombs emerged, not a hair out of place, passing for a movie star in aviator sunglasses and an expensive black leather bomber. The money he'd borrowed from Fox had helped him buy out his deadbeat father's share in the lumber company, which was now doing well--and needless to say, he didn't have to worry about repaying it anymore. The life had come back to George's eyes; in fact, the more she saw him, the more appealing he looked.
As soon as she’d recovered, she’d enlisted him to go with her to the Stop 'n' Shop warehouse to unlock the safe in which Kyle had left it. The security guard recognized her instantly; a picture he’d kept all this time. He took her arm and ushered her in. When she stuck the key in the lock, she thought she was dreaming. Ruby had never seen so much cash in her life, and she was glad George had been there with a few extra backpacks to discreetly pack it up.
In the following days, he'd helped her with more than that--sorting through endless reams of business paperwork, getting her bank account set up. Fox, to his credit, had kept the legal side of his business completely separate from the illegal. And even better, it seemed the feared Reapers had been swallowed up into the earth. As Ruby had suspected, they hadn’t been so much an M.C. as a collection of thugs Fox had hired to harass and threaten Ruby and the Jockeys, and they had thankfully died with him.
They'd spent a few nights staying up late in her apartment with a bottle of wine, joking around, but he hadn't tried anything yet. She enjoyed his company. If he asked her out on a proper date, she'd probably say yes. But there was nothing primal there; nothing that moved inside her when she thought of George, nothing that made her soul ache. She acknowledged that there might not be anybody, ever again, who could do that. She was prepared to accept it. After all, she had everything else she wanted. She was taken care of; even better, because she now had the means to take care of herself. Kyle had arranged that, as if he somehow knew.
She saw George's eyes dart down to her décolletage above the low-cut neckline of her little black dress. Ruby shook her necklace, no clicking, just silence.
"I incinerated the key, just to be safe," she told him as he followed her over to her designated parking spot. "It's just jewelry now. But that doesn't mean I ever want to take it off."
"Are you sure you want to go there tonight?" he asked after a deep breath. "I mean, I know you want to do the right thing. But I could get a courier to deliver it to her. You wouldn't have to...you know."
Ruby swallowed and nodded. She knew it would it squeeze her heart like a fist to see Regan, Holly, or any of them again, after the circumstances under which they'd met and become close. "They're having a party for KJ at the Thunderbird. They’re my family. They gave me shelter. I owe them so much, and I haven't seen them since, and they’re all going to be there."
"All of them?"
She set one black boot up onto the pedal and vaulted on, a gesture as natural to her now as flicking a light switch. Ruby swallowed, knowing exactly what he was really asking. "That's what she said."
***
"Hold him," squeaked Regan, who reached down into the stroller, her long dark hair falling across her face, and Ruby just stared. The now-twenty-year-old’s body had filled out from breastfeeding. Her skin looked milky and beautiful. It was obvious why Kyle had fallen in love with her. She thrust the baby into the arms of an open-mouthed Ruby.
The Thunderbird of course looked exactly the same; she would have been concerned if it hadn’t, but still, her stomach churned as she parked her bike among the dozens of other familiar ones, standing there for a second, not daring to look too closely. Thankfully, she didn’t even have to walk in alone, because Holly and Colt had met her outside, before she even got a chance to take it in, enveloping her in a double hug, Colt crushing Holly and Holly crushing her until she couldn’t help but smile. But it was as if her mouth had been filled with marbles with all the things she had meant to say and explain and apologize for.
“None of that,” said Holly as she pulled out a chair and set her down at a table under a string of neon lights, handing her a glass of wine, filling up a paper plate with pulled pork and chocolate birthday cake, and setting it in front of her.
Tony Weston, who’d helped her escape those months ago, looked fully recovered, full of swagger at last, striding into the bar bandage-free in his Jockeys cut-off jacket. It was good to finally see him the way he’d been, before he tangled with Aaron Beeson and the so-called Reapers. She gave him a hug.
“I never got to say sorry about your mom,” Ruby told Tony. She’d seen Brenda die, and it was an image that wouldn’t soon leave her mind.
“I appreciate that,” he said with a smile. “But god, is my life easier now.”
Nearby, Ruby watched Colt in the corner with Regan. Colt gently swung the baby in a circle above his head, the size of a tiny monkey in his tree-trunk arms. Kyle needn’t have worried; with Colt and Holly helping look after him, that kid would grow up fearless.
“But, you guys, you helped me so much.”
“I’m a forty-year-old step-grandma. What else do I have to do but help people? Drink and eat first, and then we can talk like human beings. Besides, Regan wants to see you.” Ruby had put her fork down when Regan had arrived in with the stroller. Holly kissed her on the top of the head and skittered off to see to things.
Now, long eyelashes blinked up at her in curiosity, shading the boy's achingly familiar gray-green eyes. Reverently, she ran her fingers through the baby blond highlights in his full head of curly hair as he lifted his hand, fixated on something at her chest. "That's your daddy's sister,” Regan said bending down to speak into his ear. “She loved your daddy very much. Just like me." A tear dripped down Ruby's cheek and landed on the baby's scalp. He cooed and laughed as he gripped her ruby in his fist, its brilliant facets reflected in the Christmas lights. The glass bottles behind the bar seemed to meld with Ruby's tears into a glistening kaleidoscope.
"Ruby," said Regan, her own voice hitching a little. "You can say Ruby, can't you KJ?" The boy just stared thoughtfully.
"Don't push him," Ruby said through a weepy kind of laughter.
"Hey, he can say all kinds of stuff," Regan insisted. "The usual: cookie, cracker, cake, chopper."
Ruby laughed and pulled out a piece of paper from a manila envelope. "I have something for you." The expression on Regan's face was almost one of amusement.
"Huh?" she said, bouncing KJ. The baby seemed more interested in the piece of paper than she did; he reached out his chubby hand.
"It's the number of a Swiss bank account. Nobody can touch it except you. And KJ, when he's old enough."
"This is insane." She pushed it away.
"No, it's insane for me to keep it. It's your money, Regan, as much as it is mine. You were Kyle's family. You and Holly and Colt and the rest of the Jockeys. I never accepted that when he was alive, because I was a stubborn and self-righteous idiot. I could have saved everybody so much grief if I had. I could have known you. I could have..." she blinked, reigning in her emotion. "It's my turn to make it right."
"Ruby, I have something to tell you, too."
If the room hadn't been a blur before, it was now. Ruby knew exactly what Regan was about to talk about. She'd delighted in anticipation of meeting KJ, and it was enough to galvanize her into going. This, however was the moment she dreaded. She decided to head it off before it got out of hand. "I know Joe’s with Lydia," she interrupted. She'd been prepared. "George saw them out together."
"That was business,” Regan insisted, and Ruby felt her hands unclench under the table. “Lydia took over for Aaron. She went back to Mexico yes
terday, in fact, with Sean Donovan. She's getting away from drugs."
"And into what, human trafficking?" Ruby rolled her eyes, though her heart fluttered.
"Fashion. She bought a maquiladora, and she hired the Jockeys to escort the shipments up here. Anyway, some friends of mine came by the bar to hang out with him to pull him out of his shell. He's always working; networking with people. Big fish. He's gotten the M.C. like a dozen new contracts. Legitimate contracts. I think...well it doesn't matter what I think. But he's so serious all the time. It's like he's...grown up, somehow."
"Joe, grown up?"
Regan shifted in her seat, eyes darting to her child. "Without Joe, KJ would be in a foster home in Arizona. My son would be lost to me. I never would have seen him again. I signed away my parental rights when I was down there, half-delirious over Kyle. I tried to get him back, but I didn't even know where to start. I don't know how he did it, but if it weren't for him...He got somebody to look into the paperwork and declare it invalid. He saved us, Ruby. He saved him," she said, stroking her child's hair.
Vicious: Steel Jockeys MC Page 27
