Clean Slate: Diva's Ink
Page 11
The following afternoon I pull into the compound, my eyes are gritty from lack of sleep, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I need to get home to my girls as soon as humanly possible. I wipe my hands over my face and get rid of the exhaustion pulling on my body. I look over and see Jensen waking up from the passenger side of the truck. He stretches and notices where we are, we both look up as we hear the door to the compound slam open. It echoed throughout the compound walls, immediately drawing our attention. I see Tic and Wasp standing there with their legs spread apart and arms crossed over their chests. I’m guessing they’re anticipating what it is that I want to talk with them about.
Taking a deep breath, I unbuckle my seat belt and climb my way out. I walk up to them and shake both of their hands in greeting. “Tic, Wasp, thanks for agreeing to meet with me.” Jensen walks up and I introduce them.
“Let’s head inside and talk in my office,” Wasp says to us. We follow him dutifully into the building and fall in stride behind him. I always look on the walls of the hallway as we walk through. There are member photos hanging in honor, both past and present. Some have passed away and some have just retired as they’ve aged. I see King’s photo in the middle, and a memorial for him on one wall, it’s not surrounded by anything other than photos featuring him standing with either family or club members. He was such a great man, he was a big presence in our small town, and he was admired and feared by everyone. At least that’s what I’ve been told by Carson, Levi and Dillon when they speak about him and the club. This is the first time I’ve been able to put a face with the stories.
“He was such a great man, too bad you didn’t get a chance to meet him.” I look over and see Kori standing there with tears in her eyes. “My father had a hand in his death, and I hate that with every passing moment I live. It should’ve been my father who died, not King. I loved him very much, and always wished, from the moment I met him, that he’d been my father instead of the man who sired me.”
“Angel,” Tic comes up behind her and pulls her into his arms. “How many times do I need to tell you, his death was in no way your fault. You tried to protect us, you left, I’m the one who didn’t give you a choice but to be mine again. You have to move on, baby, let the man rest in peace. We have Lila and Kingston to love and raise in his honor. He would’ve rather those two have their parents, then one of us to be six feet under. He loved you just as much as he did Kid and Skylar. We were all his children, in one way or another.”
“I know,” she says, and he whispers something in her ear, that causes her to smile.
“Now, go check on the rug-rats and see what kind of trouble they’re findin’,” he smirks at her.
“Sir, yes sir,” she says saluting him and turning around, causing him to smack her on the ass during her retreat. She squeals, jumps and practically runs down the hallway. You’d never know that they had to live through the ordeal they did or that they were separated for any amount of time. Their love is solid and impenetrable.
“Alright, now that that is out of the way, let’s get back to the business at hand,” Wasp says. We follow him into his office, Jensen and I take the seats in front of his desk, and Tic purchases himself on the corner.
“Now, tell us what all this urgency is about,” Tic says.
“Well,” I say clearing my throat, “I have a situation that not only puts myself and Jensen here in jeopardy, but one that puts a target on Emory, Shyann and has the possibility of trickling down the line of sisters and their men.”
“You tellin’ me that my brothers are in danger?” Tic asks, raising his eyebrow at me. I squirm in my seat uncomfortably, I can’t believe I have to tell this man that he could potentially lose one, or both of his brothers.
“Why don’t you start at the beginnin’,” Wasp intervenes.
“I can help with that,” Jensen says. “There was a guy in our unit, his name is Augustus Branson. He always put out that creepy vibe, but none of us would’ve ever expected he’d eventually go off the deep end. We were part of the firefighter crew, we put out all kinds of fires and investigated them. We are trained not only in fire control and protection, but each and every one of us took courses to become certified in investigation. We had to learn where the fire began, what may have caused it, and types of accelerants. Anyhow, you get the picture. So, it was year two into our tour that fires began breaking out left and right. None were the same, there was no signature to say it was one individual starting them.”
“Signature, what’s that supposed to mean?” Wasp asks, and I answer the question.
“Each arsonist has a signature, a tell sign that lets you know it was them. It could be the way they make a bomb, a certain type of accelerant they use to start a fire. If it’s one person, there is always one certain thing that will point to them. It becomes a signature mark, a way to tell if it’s an arsonist, or faulty wiring, that sort of thing. In the cases that Jensen is talking about, we would’ve never put one and one together and figured it to be the same person. He never set the fire the same way twice, leaving us confused, thinking there was more than one person involved. Or that they could’ve been random acts of violence. We weren’t sure, so it became a full-fledged investigation. We finally got a break about six months after the first fire was set, when Branson messed up and left evidence behind in his bunk house that our Commander found on one of his inspections.”
“The jet fuel that he stole from one of the hangers was left in his locker,” Jensen explains to them. “So, he became the main suspect in our investigation. We started following leads that one way or another came back to him. Small things at first, matches purchased, cigarette butts left that were the same brand that he smokes, and so on.”
“It wasn’t until he was caught red-handed that everything came out. He had been put under surveillance by our MP’s, unfortunately they had to let him start that fire in order to arrest him. Until then, all they could charge him with was leaving the premises without authorized permission,” I tell them.
“Luckily, they had called in his suspicious activity and no lives were lost that night, but every one of us involved in his take down are now being taken out. Literally, there’s only the two of us left, most of the families are gone as well. Shyann wasn’t supposed to make it out of the fire that was set to get rid of her and her mother,” Jensen says, causing Tic and Wasp to let out some cursing that is fit for a sailor.
“So now, he’s taken out just about everyone, except you two and your families?” Tic asks.
“That about sums it up,” I tell him.
“Get the boys in for a meeting,” Wasp tells Tic, “looks like we’re going hunting. I need a picture of this guy to pass around, anyway you can get that for me?”
“I have a case file that our Commander gave us, let me run out to the truck and grab that for you,” I tell him as I stand from my seat. As I walk out of the room, I can hear them asking questions about Branson to Jensen, and I pray with everything within me, that they manage to find him before he can inflict any harm to my family.
On the way home, I call Carson, Levi and Dillon so we can have our own meeting and I can let them in on what’s going on. Carson and Levi tell me they have an emergency meeting at the clubhouse and aren’t sure when they can make it. I guess they’ll be getting the memo and I won’t have to explain it to them, I can’t even imagine how Dillon is going to react. It wasn’t that long ago that his woman was in danger and now I have to tell him that even though he thought she was safe, that is no longer the case. And it’s all my fault, guilt slams into me.
“Hello,” Dillon answers the phone.
“Hey, man. I’m a few out from my house and I need you there. There’s something important I have to tell you.”
“Would it happen to be the reason Levi and Carson went running out of here like their asses were on fire?”
“The one and the same,” I answer sullenly.
“Would it also be the reason two Rage Ryder prospects just pulled in
front of the shop?” I can hear the aggravation in his voice.
“I can only assume,” I tell him honestly.
“I’ll be there soon,” he tells me before he disconnects the call.
“Well, that’s going to be a fun conversation,” Jensen says, making me want to smack the shit out of him, but he’s right, this is one meeting I’m not looking forward to.
Emory
Not long after Carson and Levi leave, Dillon announces that he has to leave as well. He gives Ariel a look, picks up Devon to give him a snuggle and hands him back to his mother.
“I won’t be gone long,” he tells her, then looks over at me, and I get the distinct impression there’s something he wants to tell me but refrains from doing so.
He walks out the door and I ask my sisters, “Did something seem a bit off about him?”
“Yes!” Rainey replies. “I was thinking the same thing, and what’s up with the prospects sitting out in front of the shop?” Ariel and I both shrug our shoulders, at this point in time, her guess is as good as mine.
“There’s something fishy going on, that’s for sure,” Ariel says.
“Hopefully, someone fills us in sooner rather than later,” I say.
“It can’t be club related, otherwise Dillon wouldn’t be involved,” Rainey states.
“You would know that better than us, sister dear,” Ariel replies.
Just about that time, Rainey’s phone chimes and I see her grab it and read whatever it is, a tear forms, but she wipes it away as soon as it appears.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her.
“Nothing, it’s all good,” she says, packing her lunch away and heading to her station.
“Something’s up with her, her phone has been going crazy the past couple of days. She gets sad and upset, but won’t share what is going on,” Ariel tells me.
“She will when she’s ready, we don’t keep secrets from each other,” I remind her.
“Maybe, but something doesn’t sit right with me, especially with the look she gets on her face,” she says.
“If it keeps up and she doesn’t come to us, we’ll sit her down and drag it out of her,” I reply.
“My schedule is clear for the rest of the day, so I’ll take these two home with me and you can pick up Shy once you’re done for the day. Carson has an appointment booked in about an hour, hopefully one of you can take her.”
“My next client doesn’t come in until three, I’ll take her,” I say as I clean up my own mess. I give Shyann a hug and kiss, and walk her out to Ariel’s car, and strap her into the extra car seat my sister keeps in her car.
“Be good, Shy-baby,” I say, giving her one last kiss. I watch as my sister leaves, with one of the prospects trailing her. I get a cold chill down my spine and shake it off. That’s been happening a lot lately, but nothing’s occurred from it, so I go back into the building and prepare for Carson’s client to arrive.
Chapter 14
Emory
Love is the bane of no man’s existence…
It’s been a long day at the shop, I go to leave but my phone pings, letting me know I have a message. I check it and am pleasantly surprised that it’s from my sister, I haven’t heard from Marcus all day, and was hoping it was from him.
Ariel: I’m at your house.
Well, one last stop for me it seems. I don’t bother replying, knowing that I’ll be seeing her soon. I pull out of the driveway, and notice Rainey is following me instead of going in the other direction towards her house. Guess it’s a family night at my home, we closed the shop earlier than normal, it’s midnight, but it suddenly dawns on me that Ariel shouldn’t be at my house this time of night. It was different before she became a wife and mother, we’d usually end up at one or the other’s house to unwind. Her getting Devon out of the house, at this hour, has me anxious to make my way home.
When I pull into my driveway, I was not expecting to pull into a madhouse. In my front yard, I see Marcus and Dillon toe to toe in an argument that doesn’t look like it’s going to end well. It’s then I finally notice that my yard is littered with motorcycles and club members. Not just the men this time either, their women have come along for the ride. I quickly get out of the car, so I can diffuse whatever this situation is before something happens that could possibly divide my family.
“What in the hell is going on here?” I holler out.
Everyone stops and turns and looks at me, I get the ‘deer in the headlights’, and ‘we’ve been caught’ looks and I have to hold back the laughter that wants to bubble out of me. Knowing that this situation isn’t funny, I just barely am able to hold onto my composure. “Marcus, you’re home,” I say running and leaping into his arms. He catches me and buries his nose into my shoulder, I can feel him take deep breaths in.
“Hey, baby, sorry I didn’t call you once I got home, but I needed the guys’ undivided attention,” he says, placing a kiss on the nape of my neck. I lean back and then reach up and grab his hair in my hands, I pull him down to me and place my lips on his.
“That’s the type of kiss you give your woman when you’ve been away and haven’t seen her in days,” I tell him.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, and smiles, the first one I’ve seen since I pulled up.
“Think we can take this shindig inside, I do have neighbors you know?”
“Yeah, baby. You heard my woman, let’s move things inside.” He grabs my hand and pulls me inside with him. I’m so happy that he’s made it home, but I know that something’s not right. I can feel it deep down in my bones, and the sullen look on his face would give it away even if my gut wasn’t screaming it out at me. I look over and see my sisters trailing in behind us, and Dillon is giving Marcus a look that sends shivers down my spine. He looks almost lethal, and I’ve only seen that look on his face one other time, when Ariel was in danger. This thought halts me where I am, and I pull back on Marcus’ hand.
“Is Ariel in danger again?” I ask, not ready to hear the answer, even though I really want to know.
“Have a seat, baby, and I’ll tell you everything I found out while I was away.”
Stunned. I’m sitting here, and stunned, is the only way I can describe how I’m feeling. My mind is racing, how does someone escape military custody? I can’t wrap my brain around it, and when I asked the question, no one had any answers. Apparently, it’s top secret and they aren’t privy to that type of information, even though their lives, our lives, are at stake.
“I can’t believe he blames you all, he’s the one who did this to himself,” Ariel says, bringing me out of my inner musings.
“I can’t believe you’d bring this kind of trouble to our family!” Dillon hollers out as he paces the living room floor.
“Now wait a minute!” I say, having enough of his sulking. “Marcus has done nothing wrong here, Dillon. He served his country, he is not responsible for the actions of other people. This is ridiculous, no one blamed you for your psychotic father, and we all fell victim to his actions, one way or another. Instead of pointing the finger in his direction, you should be thanking him for his service to his country,” I’m on a roll now. I am pissed, no I am livid! “He went over there, with the intent to protect and serve, not to take down one of his own and help put him away. If anyone is to blame, it’s this Branson asshole!” Once I finish my tirade, I hear applause, and look around and see everyone applauding my words, even my sister, who is giving her husband a very mean look, one that says retribution will be had in private once they’re home.
Dillon slides down the wall he stopped at during his pacing, and looks up at Marcus, and myself. “You’re right, damnit! I’m just pissed that we finally had everything past us, and now we have another threat to our family. I’m sorry, Marcus,” he says, and I can tell he means every word of it.
“I understand, man, and all is forgiven, I would probably feel the same way in your shoes,” Marcus says, holding out his hand and helping Dillon up, they do that man sla
p thing on the back that I still don’t understand. If I was to slap one of my sisters’ backs in that fashion, I’d find myself lying flat on my own.
The women gather in the kitchen as the men meet in the living room. We all start discussing kids and what antics they’ve gotten into lately when I hear my own begin to cry. I get a bottle ready and head into her room, she’ll want to be changed first, then eat, then she likes to have some one-on-one time alone before she succumbs to sleep. It’s a ritual I love, and one I look forward to each and every night that I walk through the front doors after a long day catering to grown people.
I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I know, I hear the rumblings of many bikes, as they fire up and head down the street. We’re going to have to move if this is to become a common occurrence. My neighbors won’t appreciate all the motorcycles shifting gears and loudly making an entrance or exit from our neighborhood. I get up and put Shyann back into her crib and turning out the bedroom light, I look over and am satisfied when I see her snuggle down into her bed. I head into the living room and see Marcus sitting there with his head hung down. He looks so defeated that I want to banish all of the ghosts that are haunting him. Unfortunately, I can’t do that, all I can do is be here for him in his time of need and lend an ear when he needs to talk.
“It’s not your fault, you know that, right?” I ask as I sit down next to him.
“It sure feels that way,” he says on a sigh. I lean my head on his shoulder just to let him know I’m here. He lifts his arm and wraps it around my shoulder, we both fall back into the couch and he pulls me closer to him.