Fight You

by Abby Mccarthy

  Chapter 21

  Daws

  “Son of a bitch!” I shout, kicking a hole in the drywall of my room. Church lasted forever. I rushed back to my room, anxious to tell Aubrey that Carlo is still alive, only to find a note telling me not to worry and that she loves me, but there is something she needs to do.

  “What the fuck!” I shout again looking for my Glock in the nightstand. It’s gone. I grab my cell phone noticing the red bar telling me my battery is almost dead. What is she up to? I can’t believe she is putting herself at risk right now. Doesn't she understand how much she means to me? How important she is?

  I move the only artwork I have on the wall and punch in the code on my safe. I take out two more guns and grab a box of ammo.

  “What is it?” Mickey says from my doorway.

  “It’s Aubrey,” I say and hand him the note, watching his face turn to an ‘oh shit’ look.

  “Yeah. Going after her. You in?”

  “Ye bet I am. Get ye car and I’ll let Dray know,” Mickey says, his Irish accent shining through more thickly.

  I run out of the clubhouse and towards the garage only to notice that the bay is open and my Charger isn’t there. “Fuck!” I shout again.

  I jump in our plow truck banging my shoulder as I get in, reminding me of my injury. Jarrod and Mickey walk out of the clubhouse and fling open the door to the truck. “I’m in,” Jarrod says as he takes the middle seat. We’re crammed in this old plow truck, but our comfort isn’t important.

  “How’s the shoulder?” Mickey asks me.

  “It’s fine,” I grit out, just upset that Aubrey is putting herself in danger and I’m not there.

  I stop at the gate to talk with Skaggs, “Aubrey come through here?”

  “Yeah, she left about an hour and a half ago. Why? What’s up?”

  “We got some serious shit going on right now. Don't you think you should’ve picked up a damn phone to see why she was leaving at dusk.”

  “She wasn’t supposed to leave?” Skaggs asks looking worried, “She told me she had to go get tampons. Shit, Daws. I’m sorry.”

  I shake my head and motion for him to let us out. My phone dings and I ask Jarrod to hold the wheel while I fish it out of my pocket. It’s some strange link sent to me by Aubrey.

  “Need you to drive Jarrod.” We maneuver as quickly as we can without stopping the truck.

  “Where we headed?” Jarrod asks. I’m not sure if she would’ve went to the motel or where the Senator is staying, but I need to make a decision. “Head towards the motel on 6th. We’ll see if we spot the Charger and decide from there.”

  I check the link she sent me and it looks like it was sent over 30 minutes ago. Damn Pennsylvanian mountains not always sending emails to my smartphone on time. I press the link and it pulls open a web-page with an audio stream. I press the green play button and at first I don’t hear anything.

  “Please,” her voice whispers. My blood runs cold. She is in danger, just like I feared.

  “You think I’d let you off this easy, Aubriella,” a voice grates back at her. The voice is controlled, but oozing cruelty, and I know that she is with Rich. The men in the truck are all dead quiet. There is shuffling around on the audio and then…..Pop! The sound of a gun firing echoes in the trucks’ cabin. We’re completely quiet waiting to hear what happens next and then my phone dies.

  Chapter 22

  Aubrey

  “Please,” I manage to get out as his hands tighten around my throat.

  “You think I’d let you off this easy, Aubriella,” He says tosses me on the ground. I have a quick second. Should I hit the buttons on the watch, or take matters in to my own hands? I’m backed against the wall and he is staring down at me with a heated look in his face like he is getting off on this.

  I slowly move my hand behind me, reach into my pants and pull out the Glock aiming it at him.

  His face changes from lust to maybe a hint of fear? I squeeze down hard on the trigger and fire off a shot right next to him, missing on purpose. I stand to my feet and he backs away putting his hands up in surrender.

  With my gun trained on him, I walk over to the front window and look outside for Mr. Adkins. He is slumped over the steering wheel of his car. “What did you do to Mr. Adkins?”

  “It’s a mild drug. It was too easy. He rolled down the window to talk to me and it only took me a second to push a needle into his throat, but he’ll be just fine. Why don't you put the gun down Aubriella, and we can talk about whatever it is you want to discuss,” he begins trying to move closer to me.

  “Not another step.” I aim the gun at his head. “I’m a good shot. My boyfriend taught me well. So, how about you answer some questions for me, and if I like your answers,I won’t shoot you.” Every ounce of strength I have is coming through loud and clear in my voice.

  I can see myself in the mirror. Gone is the weak, abused girl. The woman reflecting back at me, standing in front of her abuser is fierce. She’s loved. She loves. She is no longer going to let her monster or fear control her life.

  I am fighting for me.

  “How many before me?” I yell.

  “Aubriella,” he tries to get away with not answering me. I fire off a shot, hitting him in the foot. He yells and falls to the floor.

  “I said, you’re going to answer me! How many?”

  He’s bent over, grabbing his foot, “Two.”

  “Did you kill them or did they get away?”

  “You shot me in my fucking foot,” he whines not answering me and grabbing at his foot. I fire off another shot hitting him in his hand. “Agh!” he screams. He is slumped against the wall. Blood is splattered on the furniture and he almost looks helpless.

  “Answer me!” I shout out, completely grateful for the attendant’s poor hearing.

  “You’re the only one who got away.”

  “And the lovely social worker, why did she never look into it?”

  He looks like he wants to cry. I’m high on adrenaline and power, his pathetic demeanor is only fueling me. “I paid her and she found the girls I like.” That bitch. I knew it. There was no way she was innocent.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “What? What do you mean?” He stammers out looking very perplexed.

  I put my finger on the trigger, ready to fire another shot. The door to the motel room is thrown open and Daws runs in with Mickey and Jarrod right behind him.

  My gun is steady and aimed at Rich, who now has tears in his eyes and is hunched over trying to hold his hand and his foot.

  “Aubrey,” Daws sighs my name in relief, “You’re alive?”

  I don’t want to take my eyes off Rich, even though part of me wants to run to Daws’ arms.

  “Aub. Put down the gun, sweet girl. We got it from here. You did good,” Daws says trying to calm me.

  “He’s killed two girls before me. If I didn’t get out, I’d be dead, and then it would have been just a matter of time until he killed Ari too. I can’t let this sick bastard get away with hurting anyone else.” My arms are out straight and the gun is still pointed at Rich.

  “She’s crazy. Don't let her shoot me.”

  Mickey moves to Rich and kicks him hard enough to knock him over completely. His head is lying on the ground and Mickey puts his black boot on top of his head. “Ye don't call the las with a gun on ye crazy. Especially when ye have three real crazy SOB’s standing behind her.”

  Jarrod glances out the window, “No cops yet. Looks like you guys have this in here. I’ll make sure no one has called,” he says and slips out the door.

  Daws puts his hand on mine. “Aubrey give me the gun,” he says in a calm calculated way, as if he is trying to soothe me.

  “Can’t do that, Daws.”

  “Sweet girl. He’s a murderer. You’re not. You can’t bring yourself to his level. I understand wanting too. I want him dead too. But I know what this will do to you. Killing a man changes you. I love how strong you are. I know you’re strong e
nough to pull the trigger, but I want you to always be able to look at yourself in the mirror and never carry that burden. I never want you to feel like you’re bad or that you could hurt Ari, and if you do this, you’ll have those thoughts. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but eventually that thought will cross your mind and I never want you to have to go through that. Put the gun down.” He’s getting through to me and he’s right. I might want Rich dead but I’m not him.

  I lock eyes with Daws taking my gaze away from Rich. I see love and compassion staring back at me. I’m not a killer. Our hands lower the gun together. When it’s aimed at the floor, he grabs it from my hand and gives it to Jarrod. With his hand on mine, he pulls me into his chest. I wrap my arms around his waist. Daws bends down and kisses the top of my head. “I heard a gunshot on that link you sent me, and then my phone died. I thought you were dead,” Daws whispers.

  I hurt my man and I scared him. I can see the tortured scared look on his face. “I’m sorry, Daws. I just couldn’t live with this hanging over us. I couldn’t let any of you get hurt because of me. I needed to take back some control.” A tear trickles out of the corner of my eye followed by another.

  He bends down and crashes his lips to mine. It’s a hard kiss. Our lips, then tongues mash together. It feels desperate, wanting to show each other how much we mean to one another. This kiss isn’t about turning me on, it’s about exposing our need. His tongue darts in and out of my mouth hard and the stubble on his face scratches against mine. The kiss breaks apart leaving my lips swollen.

  “Real sweet. Are ye two about done?” Mickey says. I take my eyes off Daws and notice that Mickey’s foot is still smashing Rich’s face to the carpet.

  “Aubrey, are you still mic’d? Daws asks me.

  “Yeah, I am,” I say showing him where the mic is on my lapel.

  “Turn it off.”

  Chapter 23

  Aubrey

  One month later

  I smooth down the front of my navy blue skirt and adjust my white silk blouse.

  “Relax. You look great,” Daws says pulling my long blonde hair over my shoulders. “Everything is going to work out, you’ll see.”

  I check myself in the mirror again making sure I look presentable. Jenny returned my hair back to it’s normal color. The blonde woman reflecting back at me looks nothing like the girl who took a bus into this town months ago.

  “I hope. I’m just so nervous.” I look around the room, our bed is still unmade and Daws’ jeans from last night are slung over a chair in the corner of the room. I moved in the night after everything went down with Rich and to say Daws has been trying to be neater is a fair statement. The first several weeks were a huge adjustment for us. Ari had been with Angie and Gino still waiting to return until the hype died down.

  We’ve spent a lot of time exploring each-others bodies, but maybe just as much time finding a balance in house cleaning. Finally, I got through to him by explaining that Ari is impressionable and he was going to be a role model and he needed to set an example.

  Daws adjusts his tie in the mirror. I never really thought I’d see the day where my bad-boy was wearing a tie, but he would do anything for our outcome to be in our favor today.

  “You ready?” he asks.

  I take a deep breath and slip on a light yellow cardigan. I grab my heart necklace that Ari handed to me and asked me to keep safe for her.

  “Will you help me with this?”

  Daws grabs the necklace from my fingers and slips it around my neck.

  The warm air and smell of fresh flowers assaults my senses as I get into the car, reminding me that spring is here. I stare out the window wondering if I made the right decision with Rich.

  After I turned off the mic in the hotel room, Daws worked Rich over. Mickey and Jules held Rich up while Daws landed several hits to his ribs. I winced at the blood coming from Rich, and Daws stopped his beating. “Aubrey, it’s your choice. What do you want? We can take care of him right now, or we can call the cops and let them hear the recording. Either way he’s done for, but this is your choice.”

  Rich ended up making a plea deal with the district attorney’s office. We have his sentencing next week. Rich was able to hurt me one last time. Instead of letting everyone think that Ari was back in the system he filled them in on the fact that she was with me.

  About a week after Ari came home, we got a visit from Social Services. The caseworker had a police escort and they explained to me that Ari was not legally mine and that she would need to go with them. I was hysterical. Daws was at the clubhouse and got news from his brothers that the camera feed on our place was showing a cruiser at the house. He hurried, but when he got here, it was too late. They had already taken her.

  I roll down the window to the car and place my hand out the window letting the air run through my fingers. I think about how Ari screamed for me and cried as the case worker took her. She tore the necklace off and handed it to me, “Come for me, Aubriella!” were the last words I heard her shout before the car pulled away.

  A tear trickles from the corner of my eye.

  “Hey, no tears. Don't worry, we’re going to get her back.” Daws reaches over and places his hand on my thigh. His touch soothes me, it always does. I don’t know how I would've made it through these last few weeks if it wasn't for him.

  He encouraged me right away to seek counseling and has been there waiting for me outside the office door at every appointment. He never knows what stage he’ll find me in, but he’s ready to be there for me to lean on whenever I need him. With the doctors help we also found a medication that is less addictive than the Valium.

  “I think I forgot to tell you. Gino called me. He said Ari called him. They wouldn’t let her call us, but they let her call a friend. Can you believe that?”

  His hand gives my knee a squeeze to reassure me, “Did he say how she sounded?”

  “He said she was sad mostly and that she missed us. We’ll see her soon,” he reassures me.

  “I still have guilt for leaving her behind with Rich, and us being separated again just destroys me,” I admit.

  “You can’t blame yourself. You did the right thing then and we’re going to get her back today.”

  I want to argue with him and tell him that I’m not sure I did the right thing. I’ve been working with my therapist on trying to let go of the guilt. I know in my head that I’d probably be dead and that Rich would have hurt Ari had I not run, but deep down in my heart I still feel like I abandoned her. I hope like hell she doesn't feel abandoned right now.

  *

  The courthouse is a large brick building adorned with a clock tower that sits in the center of Wakeman. We empty our pockets and I hand over my purse as we move through the metal detectors. A security guard checks our identification and eyes Daws up and down as we pass through. He points us in the direction of Family Court. Our attorney, one who Daws says is the best, greets us in the hall. “How are you guys doing?” the older woman he hired to represent me asks.

  Daws puts his hand on my lower back. “She’s really nervous and scared.”

  “Like I said before, this isn’t open and shut. We’ll plead our case today, but I won’t be surprised if the judge wants more of a case. The state thinks that you are too young to raise Ari, so we have to prove to them how much the two of you have already been through and how tearing you apart will do more damage.”

  “I understand,” I say and follow her into the courtroom. Ari won’t be in the courtroom with us, but she will be in another room in case the judge wants to talk with her. I can’t help, but smile as we enter the courtroom. Several of Daws’ brothers including his dad and his mom are here along with all of my surrogate Italian family. Marcella and Angie are seated next to each other and share a loving motherly glance with me.

  We sit in the front row of the courtroom and the room rises as the judge walks in. He is an older man who has been in this town for a long time. Our attorney assured us that he is fa
ir and couldn't be bought. Daws suggested it and I would have been okay with that if it had meant that Ari could just come home with us. An hour passes where the judge goes through document after document. He calls Social Services up to the stand along with their legal council. They talk about what a nice girl Ari is and how much she has been through. They say that I’m involved with a motorcycle club and that I can’t be a good influence. They say they want what’s best for her. I hate that they are turning Daws’ club against us. I want what’s best for Ari, I always have. I would never let her be raised around Daws, if I thought he would be a danger to her.

  Lunch is called. I don't like the way today is going. We convene in a small room with our attorney. “Don't be discouraged. Although this isn't a legal hearing, they present all the reasons why it’s not a good idea first. We will soon get to tell them our side,” our attorney reminds us. I know this. We have gone over today a zillion times, but it still is hard to hear how they are painting me.

  “This is crap. They can't hold it against you because of me,” Daws says angrily. He is trying to hold in his temper, but I know that this is effecting him.

  “Don’t, Daws. Don't do this to yourself. This isn’t your fault. It could easily be my age that they have an issue with me as her parent.”

  “Aubrey, I swear if it comes down to it, I don't care, we can grab her and run.”

  “I’m not hearing any of this right now,” our attorney says not wanting to be a part of anything illegal that Daws suggests.

  “I love you,” I say to Daws, “Let’s see how this goes.”

  We put on our brave faces and head back into the courtroom. Daws’ club support hasn’t returned. I wonder if they are steering clear because they think it will do more harm than good. Our attorney pleads our side. By the time she is done, I think we have a good chance at getting back custody of Ari.