Cutter's Hope

by A. J. Downey

  “We gotta get you a real bike,” he said. I fired up with the sharp growl and whine unique to Ducati sport bikes and smiled.

  “I like my bike just fine,” I said.

  “No accounting for taste, Sweetheart, but I sure do like you on the back of mine,” I grinned secretly, my mouth hidden behind my helmet’s face mask and snapped down my tinted visor.

  Cutter waved me up on his left and Marlin took to his right. I’d never ridden in a procession so large. I’d occasionally fall in with one or two other riders heading in the same direction while out on the interstate or highway, but I’d never been in more than a pack of four or five at the most. This was different. There was something base and almost tribal about it and I could tell my presence among them weirded a few of the guys out. I think it was both that I was a woman and that I was riding and it definitely didn’t help that I was riding a bike that was completely out of form from the rest of theirs. I imagined they had a rule for everything and what sorts of bikes were permissible within the club was one of them.

  The roar and pulse of the bike’s engines was deafening, I tucked my earbuds in up under my helmet and plugged the wire into my phone which I zipped into a pocket in the upper arm of my jacket. My music played, Cutter gave a hand signal and we poured out of the drive and onto the street. An old U-Haul box truck falling in behind us. It was going to be a long ride.

  Chapter 16

  Cutter

  Hope was holding up like a champion, there were times she would edge a little far up and I would have to throw her a hand signal but I got it. It was her sister. Hell, I had a brother, we didn’t speak but if it’d been him, I would want to get to him at break neck speeds myself. She’d been antsy at the first stop to top off our tanks. There were only so many pumps at the station and it’d taken two rounds to get all the bikes topped off and the crash truck too. She’d filled up, all the while bouncing on the balls of her feet ready to just fucking go.

  The first pit stop we’d made she’d gone into the women’s restroom, returned to her bike and fired it right back up. She wasn’t speaking to anyone, didn’t even pop off her helmet. She was brooding and I didn’t blame her. She and her sisters were close, which meant one thing and one thing only. Whatever her girl Faith was into, it wasn’t something she wanted to be doin’ and she wasn’t in any position to get away or call for help or she damn sure would have done it by now.

  It was creeping up on six-thirty in the am when we pulled off the exit of the I-10 West and dropped down into the outskirts of the city. I checked my rearview and followed Pyro’s hand gestures, making turns and wending through some quiet, busted ass, hoods. Some of the buildings around these parts were nothing but the cement slab of a foundation. Houses taken out by Hurricane Katrina and just never rebuilt.

  It was a fuckin’ shame too. Those white slabs gleaming in the dark reminded me of the flat markers in modern cemeteries and with the destruction that storm caused, I probably wasn’t far off the mark. Hope edged up next to me and looked over, her face hidden behind the gleaming carapace of her ultra-modern helmet. I gave her a reassuring nod and when she dropped back just behind me to my left. It was kind of nice we were in tune enough after such a short time that we could pick up words and intent without ever having to speak. Her little move had spoken to me clearly, are we close? All it took was a slight inclination of my head to reassure her that yes, we were close.

  I didn’t think I had to be nervous about her and the meet and greet with this new MC, but she had pointed a gun in my face the last time she got worked up. I sighed, we’d deal with it if and when it came up. I glanced back and Pyro gave me the signal that it was the next driveway on the left.

  It was a fenced in lot, one of them chain link fences topped with barbed wire with the plastic privacy slats in them. The slats were gray but some enterprising street artist had gotten to them with their spray cans. What resulted wasn’t any half assed gang graffiti though. No, they’d done quite the mural of the MC’s colors on there. A skull grinned out at us from an angle, one of those round eye piece things, like Mr. Peanut sported, crammed into its eye socket, magnifying the eyeball behind it which was green. The Skull wore a purple top hat and in gold letters The Voodoo Bastards was proclaimed loud and proud.

  Not very subtle, but if you had the reputation and the balls to back it, you didn’t need subtle. I pulled into the lot with my guys and my woman ranging out behind me. There were five or six bikes backed against the cinderblock building, by the single door. I chose to back us into the open area on the left.

  At the sound of the bikes, three men came out the front door. Probably their wrecking crew, to scope us out. Didn’t blame them one bit. I shut off my bike and put down my kickstand and a fourth man exited the club house. A big dude, bulky and solid.

  “What the fuck you riding, Boy?” he demanded, eyes fixed on Hope who was standing beside my bike, I smiled and she looked down at me, face still masked by her helmet. I shrugged and popped my chinstrap. She shrugged back and went for hers.

  She pulled off her helmet and her hair had come unpinned during the ride, tumbling almost artfully down around her shoulders, her bangs flopping into her eyes. She stuck out her luscious bottom lip and blew, her bangs flying up out of her dark eyes and fixed the men of the Voodoo Bastards with a curious look.

  “One, I’m not a boy, and two, she’s a 2013 Ducati Diavel and I love her,” she flashed the boys her cheeky grin and I chuckled.

  The man who’d spoken from the back huffed a laugh and pushed through his guys, “Well, I’ll be damned. What’s your name, Darlin’?” he asked her and she pulled off her gloves while she calculated what she could and couldn’t get away with. I could see her doing the math and it was hot as fuck.

  “Hope,” she said and stuck out her hand to shake. The big dude took it and turned it and bowed gallantly brushing it with a kiss.

  “Well Hope, welcome to my humble abode, I’m Ruth. My boys call me Ruthie but only the ladies are allowed to call me Baby Ruth.” He gave her a roguish smile.

  So this was the President of the Voodoo Bastards. Interesting. I got off my bike and left my helmet on the seat.

  “You Cutter?” he asked, turning his attention to me.

  “That I am,” I said and stuck out my hand.

  He shook it and asked, “You do that?” and indicated with a nod of his head the bruise on Hope’s jaw.

  “Unfortunately,” I intoned and made my regret clear.

  “If it makes you feel any better I did point a gun in his face. Not sure you can provoke a man much more,” she told him.

  “Is that right?” he asked, “Well, come on in, we got some cots set up so y’all can grab a little sleep. I’d really like to hear the whole story on why it is that you’re here, in the meantime please accept our hospitality.”

  Hope gave him a wan smile, “Much appreciated,” she said, “But if it’s all the same I would really like to go get my sister. Happy to tell you whatever you want to know and then some after I’ve got her.”

  Ruth looked over to Hope and glanced her up and down before saying slowly, “Nah Darlin’, I feel you… you know where you’re going?” he asked.

  “Plaquemines Parish Sherriff’s Department, I have the address right here,” she reached for a pocket in the upper arm of her jacket but Ruth waved her off.

  “Naw, Darlin’, it ain’t nothin’ but a thirty minute ride from here, we’ll show yah, you sure you’re up to it though?”

  “Yep, I’m not waiting another minute to get my sister. I’m sorry but I can’t… I know you boys are used to doing things in a certain order or a certain way but I’ve got to go get her,” she was looking at me as she spoke and her expression spoke volumes. She was so very apologetic with her eyes but her desperation had me mounting my bike.

  “Lightning! Radar!” I barked, “You’re with us.”

  There was no way I was letting her go with anyone without me by her side, whether she could take care of hersel
f or not. Atlas and Lightning were the most rested out of the guys that’d come with us.

  “Hex, La Croix, mount up, Boys. Let’s take the lady where she wants to go,” Ruth winked at me and I nodded in return. This was going to cost me and mine a pretty penny but it didn’t matter much. Most of it was coming out of my pocket and cuts of our smuggling operation. I went into my saddlebag and pulled out the box of Cubans and handed them to Ruth. He smiled broadly and lifted the lid on the cigar box, eyes alight.

  “Why thank you kindly, Cutter,” he said with a wink and called out, “Collier!”

  A prospect came jogging out of the building and after relieving the box of Cubans of one of the cigars he handed it to the man.

  “Put these in my office and get these men settled and comfortable. You get me?”

  “Yes, Sir, right away. Anything else?” he asked.

  “Girls up?”

  “Not yet, Sir.”

  “Well, get ‘em up and ready to suck some dick, looks like some of these fellas could use it, go on now,” he waved the prospect off and I straddled my bike, Hope was astride hers and had mouthed ‘thank you’ at me while whipping that long hair of hers into a French braid and tying it off with a band from around her wrist. Her face was now hidden behind the emotionless black facemask of her helmet.

  “Fall back where he tells you,” I told her and she nodded.

  Ruth got on his bike, a fat purple gold and black Harley, and fired it up. His two boys, Hex and La Croix followed suit. Hex didn’t seem so bad, a regular looking blue collar Joe but La Croix, he was a scary looking mother fucker. The kind of scary you didn’t want to encounter in a back alley late at night. Big, bald and mean looking with a set of blue tribal tattoos across his scalp, he wore his cut over a tee with the sleeves ripped off.

  His arms crawled with some scary badass ink in twin full sleeves and his eyes were hidden by a pair of wrap around black sunglasses. He had no flash on his cut denoting office so I was betting that La Croix here was Ruthie’s enforcer. Hell, he had ‘enforcer’ traced all over him. From the set of his shoulders to the jut of his jaw, everything about him screamed that if you crossed him he’d just straight up fuckin’ kill you.

  Ruth got his bike going and I sat my helmet on my head and buckled up. He put his brain bucket on after tying a purple bandanna over his shaved scalp and put on a pair of clear lenses to protect his eyes. I was sporting a pair of yellow shooter’s glasses myself. As the two presidents, we would ride even. That was a given.

  “Hey Darlin’!” he called to Hope, she nodded in his direction to indicate she’d heard, “Why don’t you ride behind me?” he asked with a wink and she nodded again. I threw hand gestures at Lightning and Radar, my Enforcer and SAA, and they fell in where indicated. Ruth looked impressed and with a nod indicating our readiness, we rode out.

  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t check on Hope like every three seconds the whole way there. She was tense and there was a lot riding on this for her. I just wondered where it all would lead. For her, for her sister, and yeah even for me. I guess we would just have to see.

  Chapter 17

  Hope

  I was exhausted. It was pushing twenty-four hours since I last slept, and I knew for Cutter it had been the same. I kept my eyes fixed on the road ahead but they kept straying ahead and to the right of me, to the sun shining down on Cutter’s back, turning the orange threads of the kraken dragging the broken ship beneath the waves bright. I knew I was breaking down, that the tired was catching up to me when I found myself wishing we could just stop for a minute so Cutter could pull me into the shelter of his arms.

  I was afraid of what, or who, I would find wearing my sister’s skin. Prostitution… The word rattled ugly in my head, a whisper from the pervading darkness at the edge of my being that was constantly threatening to swallow me whole if I would let it. The darkness that had, apparently, snatched my sister right out from under me, rolled her, swallowed her whole and dragged her under completely.

  It wouldn’t keep her, I wouldn’t let it. There was no way I could let it. As soon as we came up within sight distance of the Sherriff’s office sign, I showed these guys just why it was I loved my baby. With a sharp, angry whine I gunned her, and shot out from around Ruth, passing him by as if he and Cutter both were standing still. I caught a glimmer of dissatisfaction on both of their faces and saw Cutter shake his head ruefully and shout something to Ruth in my rearview but I would deal with whatever it was later. Right now I was throwing down the kickstand to my bike and striding to the door, pulling my helmet off as I went.

  I bee lined for the sheriff’s office lobby, my heart hammering in my chest, crawling up into my throat as I breezed through the front door and right up to the glassed in front counter. I set my helmet down on the ledge in front of the old school partition and waited for the deputy behind the desk to acknowledge my existence, vaguely aware of Cutter, Lightning, and Radar hovering in my background by the glass doors I’d just come through. I glanced back over my shoulder and Cutter gave me a nod of support.

  Baby Ruth and his two men sat and stood around the bikes in the early morning sunshine, smoking and shooting the shit. I didn’t blame them for not coming in, I doubted they were on the level where the cops were concerned. I swallowed and my impatience mounted as the deputy behind the glass continued to ignore me. Finally, with a gusty sigh, he looked up.

  “What can I help you with miss?” he asked and I wanted to throat punch him for the bored tone he used with me. I smiled bravely instead, to hide my irritation and voice surprisingly steady, for how I felt like I was going to fall apart, told him why I was here.

  “Yes, you have my sister, Faith Dobbins in custody. I’ve come to bail her out,” he turned back to his computer screen like he hadn’t heard me even though I knew he had.

  “Let’s see… let’s see… Dobbins… Dobbins… Oh yep, looks like you’re too late, her boyfriend and his lawyer bailed her out something like two hours ago.” My stomach bottomed out, my heart dropping clean through it.

  “What are you talking about?” my voice sounded shocked and hollow and I caught Cutter and his boys going still, their reflection in the glass just losing all movement as if a predator had just gone by, except that I knew the predator was me and what they were really afraid of was me losing my shit.

  They were right to be afraid, because all the strings holding my emotions in check had been frayed by twelve plus hours on the road coupled with two years of fervent looking only to reach this time, this place, right here and right now to be told that I’d lost Faith all over again…

  That I’d missed her by two fucking hours!? When they knew I was coming!? Oh hell no!

  “Answer me you son of a bitch!” I grated, my fury bubbling to the surface, “What are you fucking talking about she’s been bailed out!?”

  “I suggest you adjust your tone, Missy,” the Deputy narrowed his beady hazel eyes and I lost it, I hit the glass that separated us with the heel of my hand hard enough that my skin split and left behind a smear of blood. The Deputy jumped and had the grace to at least look a little scared as the blood thrummed through my veins, I could feel my face flushing, my temples throbbing in time with my heart beat.

  “Where is she!? Who took my sister!? Who bailed her out!?” I demanded, a buzzing like an angry swarm of bees filling my ears. I felt Cutter coming up behind me saw his reflection nearing, but held my ground.

  “Answer me!” I snapped.

  “I don’t have to tell you that, what’s more I won’t tell you that. You should ask your sister,” he sneered from behind the safety of his glass and I hooked a fist into it, the glass spider webbing and cracking, Cutter was suddenly there, arms hooking under my arms, hands locking behind my head in a Full Nelson as I thrashed.

  “Nope, come on Baby Doll, time to take a breather!” he said in my ear, then shot back over his shoulder, “Lightning, Radar, see what you can find out please while I take my girl here for a time out.”
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  Cutter dragged me out into the muggy heat of the Louisiana morning and turned me loose. I stumbled and rounded and threw a wild punch out of pure fucking anger and adrenaline which he easily evaded which just seemed to piss me off more, so the punch turned into a backwards elbow strike which he blocked followed by another hold, this one better than the last but much more primitive. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, pinning my arms to my sides and I just doubled over and screamed my fury and injustice into the bright, sunny, and overly cheerful morning air. Birds fell silent, Ruth and his boys who had been laughing at the spectacle I’d been making, had the smiles wiped right off their faces.

  I sagged in Cutter’s grip and he lowered me gently to my knees, to the cement as I sucked in enough air to let out another outraged scream.

  “Jesus Christ her sister fucking die or something!?” one of Ruth’s men, the skinnier one, demanded taking a drag off his cigarette.

  “Shut the fuck up Hex,” Ruth ordered, a sympathetic look flickering across his face before it was swallowed by his stoicism.

  “Shh, it’s okay Baby, I got you,” Cutter’s voice was warm against my ear as he pulled me tight, back into his body and rocked me.

  “Not again, I was so close! So close! I can’t do this anymore!” I whined and okay, after two years and the week I’d just had, I sort of snapped in two and was having a fucking melt down. But after eighteen years of being sister-mom and fucking up so badly, I figured hey, I’d earned this, I would pull myself up by the boot straps after it, put on my fucking big girl panties and go find my fucking sister.

  At least that was what Cutter murmured in my ear, and damned if he wasn’t right. I listened to him, to what he was saying, taking his orders and grabbing onto them with both hands. I let Cutter become my anchor, holding me firmly on the ground when all I wanted to do was explode into the ether and just give up.