Jaxson 3: The Last Vow (Black Devils MC)

by K. J. Dahlen

  “What is it, son?”

  “There’s a woman who’s come into my life…” I paused, “A great woman. One that I intend to keep in my life.”

  Bruno’s opened his mouth to respond.

  But I spoke first, “She’s Dagger’s daughter,” I blurted and held my breath preparing myself for him to give me an earful.

  “It’s ok, I already knew,” he admitted.

  Fuck! He had known. Why didn’t he look angry? Betrayed? The man never ceased to surprise the shit outta me.

  “Plus…” Bruno rose a dark brow at me as he paused. “…Dagger just called me when I was on my way back from the hospital.” He sighed. “I know it’s against our bylaws here, but I’ve lost two sons in the past three weeks. If this woman is going to make you happy, who am I to stand in your way? I’m your father, and if this life and some of its fucking old rules can separate a father and son, then what do we really have here?”

  I smiled, still stunned at his understanding. I would keep my shock to myself however. No rocking this damn boat. I had enough rocking going on.

  A smile tugged at his lips and he explained further, “Nearly everybody I know from the old days is either dead or in prison. I’ve outlived them all. And what will run through my mind on my death bed? Nothing. I have no ties, except you. I haven’t known a relationship since my late wife. Don’t make the same mistakes I did, son. A few of the old-guys in the club might get their feathers ruffled, but I can live with that.”

  I responded with two words, “Thank you.”

  Bruno stepped forward and hugged me, whispering into my ear his advice, “Don’t let anybody know you’ve got a soft spot for her.”

  “Understood,” I replied. He knew what could happen to loved ones.

  “Now, I need your help with something,” said Bruno, indicating with a tilt of his head for me to step outside.

  I didn’t move. “What about our meeting?” I questioned.

  “It’ll have to wait,” he called, already down the hall and crossing the main room of the clubhouse toward the door.

  When I exited the clubhouse, Bruno’s driver was waiting in the sedan – engine running – directly outside the main doors. Instantly, I realized what we needed to do. Bruno stood at the rear of the vehicle and lifted the roof of the trunk. I moved towards him. Inside the trunk was a suitcase. Beside it, a plastic bag. Bruno opened the plastic bag to reveal a foul stench like that of a slaughterhouse and a decaying human head. “We really need to get him in the ground,” said Bruno.

  It was Jumper.

  I drew in a sharp breath. He wanted me to be there. To see the fiend had actually been taken down by him. “Where are we going to take him?”

  “You’ll see,” Bruno said with a grin.

  He instructed his driver to get out of the car, then Bruno and I traveled alone toward the Jumper’s burial spot. I could see that something was playing on his mind, but he didn’t say a word for a few minutes.

  “I’d like to discuss the responsibilities you’ll have to the De Luca family from now on. You’re more than simple president of my MC now Jax.” Informing me that, as his son, I would now be in line to take over as head of the De Luca crime family one day. Then he smiled as though it were some kind of blessing.

  It wasn’t. I knew this for certain. That mob life could devastate lives far beyond anything in the MC world. “The mafia life is an evil life. And I’d rather keep my distance from that,” I told the big man.

  Bruno’s face hardened instinctively, and he took a moment to calm himself. “Jax. Now, you can take my place completely. It’s not all evil. The men of the life are honorable.”

  I suppressed an eye roll. The men of that life were thugs. And a thug is a thug is a thug. I was happy on my path before all this. “Your wife and kids – Annie and your two girls—”

  “Your sisters now,” Bruno interrupted.

  I continued, “Annie and your two girls, they wanted no part of that life. Antonio grew up around that life and tried to kill his own blood. Me.” I was never even a fan of The Sopranos as there was no glamour in it like people thought. I wanted nothing to do with this. “No, that life’s not for me,” I concluded, shoving the conversation aside.

  Bruno swore in Italian.

  The final portion of the journey we drove in silence, the both of us biting our tongues. Bruno should have known I would react like this. When we came to an intersection where there were street signs, he headed toward Angel Street.

  The car pulled onto the street we cut down the gravelly track that lead to the viewpoint at falls peak. The track lead us straight to the viewpoint Chloe and I had visited before. I already figured out that Bruno wanted to bury Jumper here because he didn’t want any more problems. As predicted, there were no other vehicles around. When we reached the viewpoint we pulled into a rural parking lot, marked with rocks rather than painted white lines; surrounded by trees.

  Bruno cut the engine. “Let’s get him in the ground and go home.” His voice was cold and unfeeling.

  I let myself out of the car, shut the door, and walked across the soil toward the back of the sedan. From the driver’s seat of the car, Bruno unlocked the trunk. Lifting the lid, I was hit instantly by the stench of the corpse. It was the smell of blood and decaying flesh. And it stank like hell. Holding my breath, I pulled at the handle of the suitcase and dragged it out of the car.

  I was about to lift the case from the ground when Bruno’s voice intercepted me, “Stop!” he ordered, his tone a harsh whisper. He stood at the side door on the left side of the car, removing a shovel from the backseat. He closed the back passenger door and joined me at the rear of the vehicle. “You’re still injured. I’ll carry it,” he said, taking hold of the handle of the suitcase.

  Seeing that he wasn’t about to budge I dropped the case and took hold of the bag containing Jumpers head, and a flashlight that lay to its side, instead, then closed the lid of the trunk.

  I switched on the flashlight and gave the viewpoint to our right and the woodland to our left a sweeping glance. The woods were especially dark and haunting at dusk. It seemed impossible to think that this was at all the same serene place where Chloe and I had shared a night together. If she’d have seen the woodlands like this, she would have ran a mile to get away from it.

  I flashed the small beam of the flashlight on the ground ahead of our feet as we began our walk toward Jumper’s final resting site. Jumper’s head shifted and rustled in the plastic bag as I moved as though his spirit was trying to break free.

  Bruno hauled the suitcase and shovel through the trees, toward what would become Jumpers own, private graveyard in the woods.

  For the next few minutes, we walked in silence, deeper into the woodland. Bruno panted harder the more we walked, carrying the dead weight of Jumper’s body. By the time we stopped somewhere in the darkened landscape, Bruno’s face was damp with sweat and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. “This is it,” he stated, his voice all business.

  It took almost thirty minutes for Bruno to dig Jumper’s grave. I watched as the big man repeatedly sliced the shovel into the ground, and threw soil into a small mountain of earth beside him. The grave had to be deep enough, so it would never be found. Though no people ever came into these woodlands, we couldn’t risk an animal digging Jumper up… the remains of the body being found and reported to the police.

  When the hole in the ground was deep enough and wide enough, I dropped the head into the grave and Bruno hauled the suitcase into the ground. He looked exhausted.

  “I’ll do it.” I picked up the shovel by the handle and as I shoved the cutting edge into the pile of earth, there was a rustle as Bruno pulled out a bag from under his coat. Into the grave with Jumper, he tossed a dead weasel. I’d heard of him doing this before but I’d thought it was just a story. An odd rumor about the enigmatic mobster. I supposed I got it now ‒ it signified what Jumper was ‒ vermin, a snake in the grass.

  Nearly half way throu
gh replacing the earth which Bruno had dug, I stopped. I thought I heard a distant sound and it hit me like an electrical jolt to my system. I wondered whether we were alone in the woods. But nothing followed. The wind had begun to pick up and it blew leaves and small branches to where we stood from above. Fuck, let’s get this over with. I was creeped out. Burying a body in the night.

  Bruno didn’t seemed disturbed at all by this. No surprise there though.

  I continued until all the earth had reached the level of the rest of the ground. Bruno and I stomped on the earth, compressing it.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here,” said Bruno.

  Suddenly, a feeling of relief washed over me…Jumper would never hurt my Chloe again.

  We began to walk back toward the car. To my right, there was a scuffle in the trees no more than fifty feet away and something about it warned me to be wary. I turned sharply, in mild alarm, to face the sound – and Bruno’s face grew concerned. “Jax?” he said.

  “Let’s get going,” I whispered. For all I knew, a cop could have watched what we just did and a police car was waiting back at the parking lot to take us down to the joint and lock us inside for life.

  We made it back to the car without hearing anything more. Bruno fired up the engine and I stared back at the woods with uncertainty. I had this odd feeling, something I could put my finger on. I let the window down to listen and looked into the rear view mirror. As the trees behind the car glowed red in the reflection of the reversing light, I heard it. Not just a noise. A human voice. A scream somewhere in the distance. I felt myself tense all over. My legs. My stomach. My gut. I looked at Bruno, but he only stared at me, oblivious to the sound I’d heard.

  I snagged the keys from the ignition, forcing the engine to cut out. I paused and waited. Nothing.

  I got out of the car, fast. A demonic laugh came carried in the breeze from somewhere in the woods. Then, a scream. The scream of a girl.

  Bruno stepped out of the vehicle. “Jax, what’s wrong?” he asked.

  My hand jutted upward, my palm facing Bruno, stopping him. Angling my body away from Bruno and one ear toward the woodland, I closed my eyes and listened. As I listened, another sound came out through the trees.

  “Oh God!” somebody cried out – not once but twice. The cry was very close.

  “What is wrong?” Bruno asked again.

  Chapter 22

  Chloe

  It was almost time to go for the meeting with Antonio. I’d been on pins and needles all day long. After Johnny returned the night before he told me he didn’t find anyone or anything out of the normal.

  This told me whoever or rather Antonio who put the bullet through the door was long gone. Johnny then pushed me into the bedroom and I watched as he reached for his phone before he slammed the door shut. I had a feeling he was calling my dad. I hoped Jesse wouldn’t come and drag me away. I needed to do this. End this once and for all. Or we would never be safe. Jax would have a target on his back until Antonio was dead.

  It’d already been left to fate as Bruno didn’t take care of it has everyone had assumed. Had he known his son was alive? Maybe? I still didn’t trust the man.

  Jax told me to stay home today before he left this morning and I waited for his return all day. But now I couldn’t wait anymore. Raising the blind on Jax’s bedroom window, I peered outside. Reporters still surrounded the building front and back with their cameras, waiting to snap pictures of Jax. The media had gone crazy since Jax had been shot. Two of them ran out from behind cars when I’d pulled up the blind and I snapped it shut.

  It’s too late to back out now, I told myself decisively. If I didn’t do something Antonio was coming for Jax. Tonight. I knew that Antonio would take the bait and meet me at Falls Peak as I’d told him to. He was hell bent on revenge with a point to prove.

  Rather than risk being seen, I dragged an old sweater from Jax’s closet and pulled it on over my clothes, lifting the hood up over half my face. I breathed in deep, inhaling Jax’s scent from the fibers. Wearing his sweatshirt almost felt like he was here with me. I felt safe. Protected. Now it was my time to protect him. We’d fought too hard for what we had together and I’d be damned if I lost him now.

  Feeling my aching heart return to its unfeeling state, I slid the pocketknife my father had given me out of the bedside drawer and into its shoulder holster, still attached to my body. At that point, I still wasn’t sure I’d be able to use the blade on Antonio. But I intended to.

  I hung in the doorway of the bedroom and watched Johnny closely.

  He’d been watching the street below and I could see his gun nearby. He glared at me then looked back to the street. Then he turned to me and growled, “Need to take a piss, don’t do anything stupid. I won’t be long.” He turned and lumbered toward the bathroom.

  Quietly tiptoeing toward the front door; I took the opportunity to swipe Johnny’s set of keys from the hall table, and disappear out of the apartment. At the ground floor, I made my way outside and then, tugging my hood as far as it would travel over my face, I cut across the parking lot toward Johnny’s bike.

  When I swung my leg over the saddle and tested the feel of the handlebars, I was instantly intimidated. But there was no turning back now. If I didn’t do it, Jax’s and my life would be in jeopardy. I had thirty minutes to ride a quarter hour journey. I reasoned that as long as I could keep my balance, I could do this.

  I poked the key into the ignition and twisted. The exhaust choked to a sudden stop. It stalled. I paused and took a breath. On the second turn of the key, the engine caught. I pressed the accelerator, and I was away. Moving slowly. Cautiously. But away nonetheless. No one knew I could drive a bike on my own, except Jesse. When I was ten, he taught me all about bikes. How to start, the gears, all of it and how to drive one. I knew all about it and oddly… this now paid off.

  Rounding the corner out onto the street, I rode the shadows to Falls Peak, where I would do whatever it took to put an end to Antonio and the hell he caused for good. I couldn’t take it anymore. All I knew was that I wanted it to end. Antonio had made a profound mistake.

  Orienting my way through a maze of side streets, I stopped often to check the map on my phone. Finally, I arrived. I’d parked up across the street from the back entrance to Falls Peak on Angel Street. I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and checked the time. I had ten minutes to spare before Antonio thought he would meet Jax at the viewpoint near here. A chill of anticipation ran through me, as I looked around, trying to get my bearings.

  Falls Peak was next to a small town on the outskirts of Coronado that overlooked the banks of the river. The river that I’d seen when Jax had brought me to visit here. It was the perfect place for a murder. Secluded. Dark. Vacant. The secret viewpoint where Jax and I had stood created a natural cove for me to box Antonio in before I ended him. I sucked in my breath as I slowly climbed off the bike, dropped the stand, and made my way toward the woods behind Falls Peak.

  My legs felt stiff and taught as I moved down the darkened cobbled streets of Angel Street. The street was lit only by the forlorn yellowish light of a single street lamp twenty feet ahead of me, but I couldn’t turn on the flashlight on my phone yet. I couldn’t risk being seen.

  After crossing the street, I manuvered my body underneath the horizontal wires that separated the pavement from the woodland. And in an instant, I was in the territory of Falls Peak. My mouth was suddenly desert dry and heart was pounding so hard I could barely hear myself think.

  Tonight, Antonio goes to hell where he belongs, I vowed, having completed the first phase of my plan.

  Clicking on my phone light, I traveled steadily through the trees and brush, moving deeper through the darkness. This was far from the perfectly safe, serene scene Jax and I had visited the other day. Without sight of a clear path, leaves and branches cracked and crunched under my shoes. Thorny branches threatened as they pronged into my clothes, pricking my skin as I passed.

  My
anxieties had disappeared. I’d thought I would be too nervous to walk by this point. I wasn’t. Anticipation thrummed through my veins. With all that had happened leading up to this point, the entire situation had felt so unreal – like a nightmare – I had to fight my way out of.

  I moved to through the woods like there were invisible chains pulling me along, as though possessed, the pocketknife pressing against my ribs with every step. A reminder of the job I was here to perform. I’d planned to creep up on Antonio from behind and stab him.

  I traveled deeper and deeper into the woodland.

  Sensing a presence near, I stopped in my tracks.

  Nothing.

  Silence.

  I stepped into the shadows and didn’t move. An ominous feeling in my gut told me that Antonio had a similar idea to mine. To creep up on his enemy from behind and take him by fatal surprise. Perhaps we were ten feet away from each other. Perhaps two feet. There was no way to know without winding up on the wrong side of a loaded gun. Sucking in a deep breath, I slipped off my shoes holding them in one hand and crept forward another five feet.

  A vicious rustle in the trees cut through the air.

  My steps faltered. Adrenaline spread over my body and I felt the reality of what I was doing return to me with force. My breathing had picked up and it was becoming impossible to inhale and exhale soundlessly. I yanked the pocketknife from its holster and held it by my side.

  Another rustle.

  I fingered the knife, tensely. Then, there were several rustles from all directions as a gust of wind threw leaves and soil against my legs. I stumbled three steps backward, and steadied myself against a tree before continuing on.

  My heart hammered hard and steady like I had the marching drum of an army in my chest. It seemed to carry my legs forward. I weaved between the thick branches of a denser part of the woodland, bending in all directions and dodging branches that pinged back at my body, like invisible bullets being fired in my direction.

  The small voice that was telling me it wasn’t too late to change my mind was suppressed to nothing. Antonio wouldn’t hesitate to kill me if he saw me. I had every right to feel the same way about him.