by Shyla Colt
Moose did as he asked. “This business or other?” Moose asked.
“A little of both. You remember our last conversation?” Wanderer asked.
“Yeah, I remember,” Moose said.
“I see my little girl is still unclaimed,” Wanderer said.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but your little revelation screwed us both up.”
“I don’t want to hear your bullshit excuses. My daughter’s not something to be cast aside once you’ve used her up and decided you’re done.”
“Don’t pin your mistakes on me, old man,” Moose said.
“Old man? Who do you think you’re talking to?”
“An overprotective father who’s trying to make up for not being around and losing his daughter in the process. Why don’t you slow the fuck down and get to know her instead of trying to control her life? This approach is the worst one you could take. She’s like her mother, man. She needs her freedom. You’re trying to put her in a cage she doesn’t belong in or want to go to. I’ve been sitting back, keeping my trap shut because you outrank me, and this is a family matter. Now that you’re coming for me with guns blazing, I’m going to speak my piece and let this shit fall where it will. You need to back the fuck off. You’re stressing Jo-Jo out, which means you’re affecting me.”
“So you think you’re more important than me, her father?”
“I think it’s a little late to be trying to pull the father card. I also think I don’t give a fuck what the two of you end up working out. That’s up to her and you. I don’t have a place in that unless she puts me there. Because please believe, president or no president, if you hurt her, there’ll be hell to pay.”
Wanderer’s eyes went wide. His body tensed, and his mouth shut. His jaw ticked, and his eye twitched.
“You threatening me, boy?” Wanderer asked.
“No, I’m fucking promising you,” Moose said.
Silence fell in the backyard. Moose watched him warily. He would be within his rights to stomp a hole in his ass right now. He had disrespected Wanderer and disregarded his rules for dating Joey.
“Clearly you love my daughter to risk your ass like that. So what I can’t get is why you won’t make it official.”
“Because that’s our call to make, when and if we ever decide to make it. You think her experience with an absent father has left her keen on belonging to another human?” Moose shook his head.
“And you are?” Wanderer said.
“I don’t know what I am other than into Joey.” Moose shrugged. “That’s good enough for me and her. Why isn’t it good enough for you?”
“Because I don’t want to see her become Ellen,” Wanderer said.
“And neither does she. Which is why she never would.”
“What kind of scam are you running here, brother? That makes no fucking sense,” Wanderer said. His nostrils flared, and a vein in his forehead began to stand out and pulse.
“Look, dude, I don’t know how it was with you and Ellen, but Joey and I aren’t a secret. We’re out in the open for the world to see. That right there makes a world of difference. She has rights too. It’s not just me. We do right by our family in Mayhem.”
“You saying the Eights don’t?” Wanderer said.
“I’m saying you didn’t when it mattered most,” Moose said.
Wanderer stepped back as if he’d been punched in the jaw. His eye bulged.
“I’m giving it to you straight,” Moose said. “You’ve been busting my balls since day one. I think it’s time for a little reality check. You hate me for things I haven’t even done yet. I know you think I’m not good enough for you daughter. I don’t disagree with you. She could have any man she wants, but she chose me. If things were different, she might’ve ended up with an Eight for an old man, but what ifs don’t amount to shit.”
“You got a big set of balls,” Wanderer said.
“They don’t call me Moose for nothing.” Moose met the man’s gaze, never giving an inch. It felt like a stare-down in the wild. Wanderer had experience and intimidation on his side. Moose would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit he was nervous. But he had stubborn determination.
“I’ll back off for now. We all have settling in to do. But don’t think you’re ever going to be square with me until you handle this the way it should be,” Wanderer said.
“Fair enough, as long as it doesn’t affect our partnership,” Moose said.
“It won’t,” Wanderer said.
Moose’s head snapped back, and his ears rang. Pain exploded in his jaw as Wanderer hit him.
“What the fuck, man?” Moose barked.
“That’s for talking to me wrong and dating my fucking daughter. I’m keeping it between us because I know you’re right,” Wanderer said.
Moose rubbed his jaw. “That’s the only free lick you’re getting out of me.”
“Understood.”
“So we’re cool?” Moose asked.
“For now. I hear what you’re saying about Joey. You’re right. She might be my flesh and blood, but you know her better, and that burns me the fuck up. You aren’t even in my set, and she turns to you for everything. I’m an asshole, and I can be stubborn as hell. I know my flaws, but stupidity has never been one of my poorer qualities. Know I’m always going to be on your ass about Joey. That’s my right.”
“I am not arguing,” Moose said.
“Good. Now let’s get this grill going before Ellen comes out and busts my balls. Damn woman is hell on wheels,” Wanderer muttered. The smile on his face took all the harshness out of the statement. He’s still got the hots for her. Wanderer turned on the propane, lit the pilot and fire roared to life.
“We got steak marinating in the fridge if you want to go get that,” Wanderer said. His voice was gruff, but the discussion had cut the tension between them in half. They had come to a tentative understanding that would hold for a while. It would have to be enough. He walked back inside, and Joey glanced up from the cutting board.
“Everything good?”
“Yeah, babe.” He smirked. “Were you ready to come out and rescue your poor man from the big bad wolf?”
“You’re such an asshole,” Joey said, exasperated.
“And yet you date him,” her mother said.
Moose snickered.
“Is this how it’s going to be now, Mom? You take his side?” Joey said. Her huffy tone made him laugh harder. Damn he loved getting her riled up.
“Just making an observation,” her mother said.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get your meat and go,” Joey said shooing him.
He pulled the plastic containers out, closed the door and winked at her before he returned outside. The ice had been broken. He’d met her mother and faced Wanderer yet again, and the world hadn’t stopped spinning. He couldn’t ask for more. This was about as easy as his life got.
Chapter Twelve
Joey cursed Mayhem as she popped the cork on the wine Levi had brought from his special stock. She rolled her eyes. Her reason for hosting this dinner was for Moose to see Levi and give her his opinion. Too bad Moose ended up being called away to deal with Mayhem business. So now she was flying solo. Levi had gotten together with the girls, and no one else seemed to catch the vibe she did, so she kept her reservations to herself. Between Juliette’s upcoming nuptials and Hilary’s parental drama, it wasn’t hard to do. She poured the white wine into goblets and brought them to the table. They’d small-talked their way through her stuffed hen and fresh salad. Levi remained charming, polite and engaging, but she still wasn’t buying it. Maybe this was the aftermath of Peter’s mess—paranoia. Thank God this dinner is almost over. She finished pouring and brought the glasses into the living room.
“Here we are. It smells delicious, Levi,” Joey said.
“I chose it with you two in mind. I think it’ll knock you off your feet.” He smiled. Something moved behind his eyes, and she mentally imagined the look on his face if she dumped her
drink onto her carpet. Laughing mentally, she took a sip and hummed her approval. The light, slightly fruity drink had the flavor of a dessert wine.
“This is really good, Levi,” Joey said.
“I agree, excellent choice, babe,” Evonne said.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said.
She focused on sipping her drink, grateful to have something else to do besides talk.
“Joey,” Evonne slurred.
Joey glanced at her friend and frowned. Slumped against the couch with limp limbs, and glassy eyes, Evonne looked wasted.
“Evonne, are you okay?” Joey set her glass down on the table, and the world tilted. Her vision doubled. Her head grew light.
“It worked faster than I thought,” Levi said.
“What ya doo?” Joey struggled to form words. Her tongue felt broken.
“I’m exacting revenge for my fallen brother. Did you really think we’d forget and let you go on your merry way?” he asked. “This is for Peter.”
“Y-you k-kill him,” Joey said.
“Me? No, we all understood what would happen if we were ever exposed. The greater good comes first. Peter agreed to our terms. He also knew we’d avenge him,” Levi said.
“Levi, no,” Evonne said.
“Oh don’t worry, sweetness. I've come to be fond of you. I won’t hurt you. I’ll train you,” Levi said. He sank onto the couch beside Evonne and stroked her face. “You gave yourself to me so sweetly. So completely. I won’t forget that, lover.”
Tears rolled down Evonne’s face.
“But you,” he said, pointing at Joey. “You are a killing blow to Juliette and the biker scum who think they run this city. Let me tell you, darling, they are in for a huge awakening. We make the rules now. By the time we’re done with them, they’ll be nothing. As we speak, a shit storm is coming down on them so hard, I wonder when they’ll realize you’re missing.”
She wanted to lash out at him, but she couldn’t move her legs to kick or make her mouth work to spit. She swayed, landing beside Evonne on the couch.
“That’s it, go to sleep for me, girls.”
Despite her best efforts to resist, she found herself doing exactly as he requested as she slipped into unconsciousness.
* * * * *
The first thing Joey registered when she came to was coldness and pain. Her head throbbed, and her skin felt like it had a layer of ice covering it. She moaned and forced her eyes open slowly. The light that came in through a small window made her cringe. Where am I? She moistened her lips and swallowed, breathing in fresh air. A musky dampness lay around her and reminded her of a cellar.
Her head finally stopped spinning and she opened her eyes once more. The pain in her eyes was manageable, so she took in her surroundings. She lay in the middle of the floor of a bare, gray room that made her think of prison or a mental asylum. Please let me wake up. Her stomach turned and she closed her eyes while swallowing. Bile rocketed up her throat. She turned her head and revisited her dinner. Her eyes watered, and she pushed herself into a sitting position, moving back from the foul-smelling puddle.
The door probably locked from the outside. It had a long, thin window. Jesus, maybe I am in an asylum. She took a deep breath and moved onto all fours. The world tilted slightly. Once she stabilized, she gained her feet, bracing her palms against her thighs as she wobbled slightly. Her teeth chattered and she wrapped her arms around her waist. Dressed for a night in, she wore a only pair of skinny jeans and a button-down white shirt.
Careful steps took her to the door. She pressed her ear to the smooth metal surface and listened. Nothing but silence greeted her. Curious, she peered out the window and spotted a hallway with corresponding doors just like hers. Where’s Evonne? She wanted to call out for her but feared alerting Levi. Neglected and aged, the faded white walls were covered in grime and graffiti. Familiar with the history of her town, she guessed this was the old Northway Asylum. The rundown hospital had been closed when the truth about the horrible treatment and hidden deaths was revealed. Many people thought the souls of those neglected patients still wandered the hallways at night. A chill went up her spine.
On the outskirts of town, it had been the place kids dared each other to go in high school. But why am I here? Wait—their plans had gone wrong. She could vaguely recall her kidnapper yelling at someone. Did he dump me here to get me out of the way, or was this part of the scheme? Mental images of sterilized instruments from every horror movie she’d ever witnessed swam to the forefront of her mind. Oh my God, what is he doing to Evonne right now? Her heart raced. He’d sounded obsessed with her at the house. Surely he wouldn’t hurt her.
I have to stay calm so I can find her. No one knows what happened to us. I have to keep it together, or I’ll be another ghost wandering around this place. Think, what would the Doctor do? He’d have a sonic screwdriver for one. Rambling to herself helped to keep her from panicking.
Joey wrapped her hand around the door and turned the metal knob. Locked. Terror set in as she jiggled the handle. Looking around the room, she saw nothing more than a rotted mattress, decayed down to the rusty bedsprings. It was like an episode of a cop show. Only she was the victim and there were no leads. As far as everyone else knew, she’d just vanished from her home. She peered at the center pane in the door. This place was made in the ’eighties. It might still be regular glass.
Eager to escape the small cell, she removed her shirt, ignoring the numbing cold as she wrapped her elbow. On three… One, two, three! She drove her wrapped limb forward with all her might and cried out when it hit the pane of glass. The crack encouraged her and she remained a human battering ram until the glass gave way. Her chest heaved, and adrenaline surged thorough her body.
Terrified her kidnapper was close by, she shook out her shirt, wrapped it around her hand and cleared the square of jagged edges. Desperate to gain the extra five inches necessary to stick her arm out and reach the doorknob she jogged toward the bed and prayed it would hold her. The metal scraped along the floor. The high-pitched tone stabbed at her eardrums.
She pushed the rickety contraption flush against the door, made the sign of the cross over her chest and climbed on, sticking her arm through the window. The frail frame collapsed after a few seconds, but the top lock had already given. The sharp edges of the bed dug into her pants, and she struggled to free herself, feeling as if she had fallen into marshmallows littered with rusty razor blades.
Free of the tiny nicking menaces, he stumbled over the edge of the bedframe and brushed her hands over the legs of her pants, trying hard not to think of what residue clung to the mattress. She waved her shirt once last time in the air and slipped it on over her head. Her heart pounded in her chest as she moved the bed once more and opened the door.
A sense of foreboding washed over her. This place had seen so much misery and pain. Sorrow and despair clung to the walls. She padded across the floor in bare feet, scanning her surroundings. Half expecting someone to pop out at any moment, she hugged the wall on the far right. Her nerves frayed a bit more with every foot of space she covered. Hallways intersected like a crazy highway and she had no clue which would lead her where.
On instinct, she turned left, and prayed for the best. Anything was better than remaining in the cell, knowing if the others didn’t figure this out she would starve to death. Even if she could find her way out, there was no one around on this land for miles. At least inside, she had some shelter from the elements.
* * * * *
“You ready for tonight?” Shooter asked.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Moose replied as he leaned back in his chair. The Lords of Mayhem were all gathered in the club waiting to head out to collect information from a source who claimed to have inside information about Room 801. Neither naïve nor stupid, they assumed the informant was a plant, bait to get Mayhem to walk blindly into a trap. For that reason they were traveling by the shit ton, with the Eights in the wings ready to ride in and
provide backup. They’d agreed to an abandoned warehouse a half-hour away in the middle of nowhere between this town and the next.
Shooter shrugged. “I don’t like any of this. It feels bad. Even knowing the Eights have our backs, I want to call the whole thing off.” He said.
“Any particular reason or just your sixth sense?” Moose asked. He’d learned to listen to his Shooter’s gut. It hadn’t led them astray yet.
“Other than the informant’s shady-ass behavior…it’s a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach, man.” Shooter shook his head. “This is going to go sideways on us fast.”
Moose frowned. “What did Tiny say?”
“Better to get the drop on them and squash it now than be caught by surprise and ambushed,” Shooter said.
“He has us all wearing vests at least,” Moose said. He patted the Kevlar beneath his long-sleeved black thermal shirt.
“I know, but I like to avoid gunfire when possible. You never know what someone else is packing or where their men are positioned,” Shooter said, looking around.
Moose could see the ghosts of the past flickering in his friend’s eyes.
An ex-sniper for the Marines once captured in the line of duty, Shooter had battled his demons for years before he managed to get a firm grasp on them.
“You good for this?” Moose asked.
“I’m solid, just—apprehensive as fuck,” Shooter said.
Moose laughed. “Apprehensive?”
“Hey, my fiancée is a librarian. Shit rubs off.” Shooter chuckled.
The tension was cut in two, but the underlying unease remained. Moose surveyed the area. They were like sardines with the Eights packed in beside them.
“You hear that?” Shooter asked, tensing beside him.
“Hear what?” Moose asked.
“Shut the fuck up,” Shooter roared.
The talking in the room stopped. They heard a whistle-like sound followed by pops.
“Get down!” Tiny barked. Bodies hit the floor. Windows exploded. Gunfire rang out. Casings clanked on the concrete outside as they hit the ground. The roar of an engine and the crash and rattle of the front gate were followed by a sickening thud Moose knew was the prospect they’d posted up front.
