In Times of Violence

by Karina Kantas

  “I’ll call you in the week,” Joe said.

  “Sure,” Marcus answered.

  I got warm hugs, some lingering longer than usual. It was a sign that we wouldn’t see each other again, even though no one was ready to admit it.

  “Take care of him,” Steve said, pointing to Marcus. I nodded my head.

  “Take care of each other,” Paul added.

  “Stay in touch. Okay?” Mick said, and wouldn’t take a step out of the front door until he got an answer.

  “Sure,” Marcus said, a little too enthusiastically. And the smile he was suddenly beaming looked so wrong, especially with the sullen expression he had plastered on his face for the past thirty minutes.

  I wondered if he blamed them for the death of his brother. We never spoke about it after the guys left. In fact, we never spoke at all that night.

  Marcus and I decided to move to Birmingham. He knew people there and could hook up with a job easily; he had already secured a roof for us.

  Dylan's murderer received a ten-year sentence for voluntary manslaughter; I predicted he’d be out in five. His name was Simon, and he was only seventeen. My testimony didn’t go down very well with the jury. It was known that I was a member of the Tyrants, and if it wasn’t for him leaving the weapon at the scene and the police matching Simon’s fingerprints to it, I think he would have walked away scot-free. Even so, I thought the sentence unfair. To think you could kill someone, and only lose five years of your life for it, was dreadful.

  The tabloids couldn’t get enough of the story. It headlined for over a week. The Wolves made a name for themselves. They were number one and feared by all. The scary part was that the Wolves held a flagrant disregard for the rules, and because of my testimony, I’d helped put a member of their gang behind bars. They weren’t going to let me forget that.

  I was leaving the courthouse after the sentencing when a complete stranger in a dark grey suit blocked my path. I assumed he was a lawyer or some other businessman in a hurry. I was too upset to apologise to him, so I stepped aside to let him pass; only he stepped across and blocked my path again. I looked up then.

  “You’d better watch your back, they’re coming for you,” the man warned.

  I was stunned. Marcus pushed the man away. Nevertheless, the man's threats continued, his voice increasing in volume.

  “Make sure you lock all the doors, Jade,” he laughed. “Tonight’s the night,” he sang.

  I was shocked and lost for words. I stood on the steps with my mouth wide open. Marcus couldn’t control his temper and lashed out at the man. The blow hit the stranger square on the jaw, and his lip started to bleed. As he went to take another swing, a cop caught his arm and twisted it behind his back.

  “That’s enough,” the cop told Marcus. “Do we have a problem here?”

  Marcus looked at me. I shook my head, imploring him to let it go.

  “No, officer, everything’s cool,” Marcus said.

  The cop released him.

  The man continued laughing. “Take it easy,” he sniggered.

  Marcus wanted to thump him again, but I dragged him away.

  The threat on my life scared Marcus. He knew the only way for me and the baby to be safe was to get out of town that night. The moment we got back to the house we started packing. He rang Clay and Beth, told them what happened and that we were leaving. Both of them came around to the house and helped us pack. He asked Clay to take what we couldn’t carry back to his house, and store it for us until Clay could come down to Birmingham. He also asked him to sell the house. Marcus didn’t want anyone else knowing where we were going and he knew he could trust Clay. I was glad we were staying in touch with them, as I loved them both. Clay was my last link to Dylan, and I was happy I didn’t have to break that tie.

  We had to lie low for a while. We wouldn’t be able to do or wear anything which would get attention. See, it wasn’t just our life that needed to change; our code of dress and attitude had to change as well. No more ripped jeans and leather jackets. I could cope with that. I was used to wearing skirts for work, but I wasn’t sure how comfortable Marcus would feel with his new guise.

  I packed the essentials, putting the rest of our belongings into boxes. We could only carry so much on the bike. It was early evening by the time we were ready.

  I hugged Beth goodbye and held onto Clay.

  “Look after yourself,” he told me. “And take care of the baby.” Then he winked at me knowingly.

  Had he worked it out? Did he know of the possibility? I knew I could trust him not to say anything. I hoped he understood why I was staying with Marcus. I didn’t want him to think I was treating Marcus as a consolation prize. I wasn’t staying with him just so he would take care of the baby and me. I stayed with Marcus because I knew it was what Dylan wanted. Marcus loved me in his own way, and in time, I was sure I would fall in love with him again, although I would never forget Dylan.

  When we were sure we weren’t being followed, Marcus rode into a service station, and we went into the toilets and transformed.

  I came out, and Marcus walked straight by me. “Hey,” I called. We stared at each other. I’d cut my beautiful hair and was now sporting a medium bob, and wore black trousers and a white blouse. Marcus gave me the biggest shock. For the first time in his life, he was wearing trousers, a shirt, and he had even lost his Doc Martins. He didn’t look like the Marcus I knew. Yes, he looked handsome and sexy, but it wasn’t the same. I hoped our disguise wouldn’t have to last long.

  We stayed in touch with Clay and Beth, in fact, Marcus was the best man at their wedding. Clay kept us up to date with what was happening back in town. Most of the Tyrants had moved away by then, only Clay and Beth stayed put. They told us the Wolves had gotten such a bad reputation. Clay called them worthless, useless elements of society. He said they’d given gangs a bad name and told us it wasn’t a safe place to live anymore. I felt like laughing. I remembered when we ruled the streets. The way he was talking, you’d think we’d been saints. I told him if he didn’t like living there he should move. But Clay was determined no one was going to make him leave his hometown, most especially the Wolves.

  Marcus and I spent a lot of time together and we got to know each other again. In all the years we lived in London, we never really talked to one another. We were stupid enough to think that having trophies on our arms was enough to build a relationship. We both grew up that year and learned a lot about ourselves.

  Years have passed. Marcus looked after John and Sofi, as he promised he would, and as far as I know, he’s been faithful. He still doesn’t know, and will never know, that John is Dylan’s child. Clay’s told me many times, you only have to look into the boy’s eyes to know who the real father is. Sofi is, of course, Marcus’s, and he dotes on her.

  Marcus did what he thought was right. He left his violent past behind for me and took up the responsibility of a father, and yes, he is a good one.

  I like to think of myself as a good mother. I don’t scream at my kids, or treat them like a slave. I am strict, if I weren't, they would probably turn out like me. They have freedom, but also responsibilities. I always said, that if I ever had kids, I’d never treat them the way my parents did with me, and yet I sometimes hear my mother’s remarks coming out of my mouth. When that happens, I stop mid-sentence, take a deep breath, and change the subject.

  I won’t deny I feel closer to John than I do with Sofi. Only what she lacks from me, Marcus makes up for. However, there’s no favouritism. We raise them both with the same rules and regulations, the same love and understanding. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying we’re the perfect parents, far from it, we’ve got a lot to learn, but we’re trying.

  It took a while to admit to myself that I had fallen in love with Marcus again, and I’m happy in my own way. Maybe my future was pre-determined; perhaps it was my destiny to be with Marcus after all. I’m not proud about deceiving him; I did what I did for the sake of John.

&nb
sp; Both of us are relieved that our children don’t have to live in times of violence. Sometimes Marcus and I reminisce about the good old days, but we thank God, they’re over.

  In gratitude for reading and hopefully enjoying In Times of Violence. I’ve added the first chapter of Huntress, book two of the OUTLAW series.

  I hope you enjoy,

  KK

  HUNTRESS

  1

  Okay, I might not be the smartest woman in the world, but that doesn’t mean I’m dumb enough not to have realised that all was not what it seemed when it came to my parents.

  Although they’ve attempted to hide their true nature behind airs and graces, Jade, my mother, let her tongue slip occasionally. And when my parents argued, boy, could they swear. It was like an explosion, as though they’d been holding it in for too long. They would remember themselves, look at one another in disgust and then return to their charade.

  Another clue that the pretty picture was a painting was their association with Beth and Clay, two hard-core bikers; bikers that didn’t have a problem popping pills or smoking marijuana in front of me. In fact, when they deemed me old enough, they offered me a share.

  My brother John took an overdose and killed himself when he discovered the truth. He was only twenty-two.

  I suppose I blame myself, but John should never have read my diary.

  Clay is my godfather. My father, Marcus, was the best man at Beth and Clay’s wedding. He’s always been straight with me; told me how it was whether I could take the truth or not.

  One late warm afternoon, the three of us were sitting on their veranda chatting, when I dared to bring up the taboo subject of my parents’ first meeting.

  What Beth and Clay revealed changed my whole outlook on life. It changed who I was.

  “So, why have you never brought this up before, Sofi?” Beth asked.

  “I’ve wanted to talk to you about this many times. I guess being stoned has given me the courage.”

  “You know you only had to ask,” she said.

  “Yeah, I don’t have a problem discussing it,” Clay added. “Although I know that Jade and Marcus would rather forget it.”

  Beth left her seat and entered the house. Clay passed me another beer; it was cold and soothing. My throat felt raw from smoking too many joints. My skin was clammy, and my long brown hair was beginning to stick to my face and neck, so I tied it in a ponytail and then pulled my Iron Maiden T-shirt out of my jeans and tied it in a knot. I didn’t realise it was going to be so warm. I would have been a lot more comfortable in my cotton pyjamas.

  Clay looked like a typical beer-drinking biker. A large, muscular man, with medium length, white bushy beard, and he always wore soiled jeans and an old tatty T-shirt. But if you could see past his appearance, he was one of the nicest blokes you could meet.

  I’d yet to see his temper, but I could imagine if matched with someone his size, Clay would come out on top.

  Beth returned and handed me a large photo.

  A group of sixteen bikers stood in front of a line of impressive motorbikes. They all wore jeans or leathers and looked tough.

  The women were sexy; dressed in tight leather trousers and sleeveless black tops. I recognised Beth straight away; dark curly hair, small frame and a huge smile. Apart from some grey hairs and wrinkles around the eyes, she hadn’t changed much. Clay hadn’t changed much either, he still had that knowing smile.

  He pointed and named each person in the photo.

  “Was this your gang?” I asked.

  “No. It was your dad’s.”

  I choked and coughed out the smoke.

  “That’s your dad,” Clay said, pointing to the biker standing in the middle of the group. His foot was resting on the front tyre of a bike. I guessed the red-head standing beside him was my mum.

  “Jesus Christ!” I said, not believing what I was looking at.

  The biker did look like a younger version of my father. Although his hollow cheeks had filled out, and I’d never seen him wearing anything other than shirts and trousers.

  My mother gave me the biggest shock. She was wearing tight, black leather trousers and a black T-shirt cut at midriff. Her eyes were lit up, her cheeks rosy and she wore a contented smile. Her hair was waist length and bright red. Very different from the short, brunette hair I was accustomed to.

  So many times I had caught her staring at my brother with a sorrowful expression and empty eyes.

  I never understood until I saw that photo.

  Clay allowed time for the revelation to sink in. Then passing me another joint, he told me all about the Tyrants.

  “So, you were never a member?” I asked Beth, once they finished their account.

  “No. I hung out with them, but Jade was the only female member. I think the guys preferred it that way. They treated her like a sister, you know, like one of the family.”

  “Weren’t you jealous?” I asked.

  “Nah. I wasn’t after attention. I had my man. There was no jealousy between your mum and me. We’ve always been good friends.”

  “Did she always dress like this?” I asked, trying to picture the Jade I knew dressing similarly.

  “That’s nothing. You wouldn’t believe half of the outfits she used to wear.” Beth laughed.

  “So she was a biker’s tart?” I said, feeling disgrace.

  “Jade had... class. She used her looks and personality to draw men to her. But she wasn’t free property. She belonged to Marcus, and everyone knew that. She was tough. You should have seen her fight. It was something to watch.”

  “A hellcat,” Clay added with a grin.

  “And did you love her?” I asked him.

  “We all did. It wasn’t hard not to fall in love with her charm. As Beth said, she was like a sister to us.”

  Clay told me about my mother’s rape and how the Tyrants went after the Vipers, their sworn enemies. My cigarette burned away in the ashtray, long forgotten, as I imagined what she must have gone through; the abduction, assault. In my mind, I saw four men holding her down while they injected her with drugs. I shuddered and pushed the image away.

  My mind wouldn’t allow it to sink in. This wasn’t the Jade and Marcus I knew. There was no way these tough, violent gang members were my parents. I needed more answers.

  “We were the number one gang in London,” Clay explained. “People feared us, and we lived up to that reputation. Marcus was a fierce leader. Jade became his lady after fighting off the competition.”

  “Tell me about it,” I urged.

  “I can see this is going to be a long night,” Beth said, standing up. “I’d better call your father and let him know you’ve arrived safely.”

  I allowed Beth and Clay to talk for hours about the Tyrants and the violent fights they had. It sounded exciting and dangerous, but I still couldn’t visualise my parents in that situation.

  They had hidden their past well; maybe even believing their own hype.

  My heart started to race, my pulse quickened. Why had they kept this from me? Were they ashamed? Did they walk away from the gang because she was pregnant with me? How could they live a lie for so long? Did they want to rip off their disguise and be who they really were? Were John and I keeping them from living their life?

  I took a long steady breath before lighting up yet another joint

  “Does John know any of this?” I asked

  “I doubt it,” Clay answered. “And I don’t want him finding out right now. He’s got enough distractions,” he said, referring to John’s ex-girlfriend’s announcement that she was pregnant.

  “Okay, I won’t say anything,” I shrugged.

  Inhaling the smoke, I held it in and then let out a long breath. I was feeling pretty wasted and depressed.

  “Now I know why Mum’s not happy. They didn’t want us. We were a mistake,” I cried.

  “You shut the hell up,” Clay barked. “I don’t want to hear you talking like that. They love you very much. You don’t know the
whole story.”

  “Then for Christ’s sake tell me,” I yelled. “I’m eighteen now. I deserve to know the truth. If you don’t tell me, I’ll find out for myself.”

  “It’s time she knew,” Beth said.

  “You’re not going to like what you hear, Sofi,” Clay warned.

  “I’m ready.”

  Taking the discussion and drinks inside, we got comfortable in the living room, and then Beth went to the kitchen for munchies. Man, I was hungry, and yet my stomach felt weird. I wasn’t sure if I could keep anything down. I think it was nerves. At last, I was going to learn what the big secret was.

  “Who’s this?” I asked, pointing to another biker standing next to my dad.

  “That’s Dylan,” Beth said, “Marcus’s older brother.”