The Way Home (Lights of Peril)

by Unknown

  “Sadey, I owe you an apology.”

  I hold my hand up to his face, like Hem used to do to me to get me to shush. He smiles at me again. Apparently he’s seen Hem do this to me before.

  “You owe me nothing. You did what you thought was right.” I grab his hand in mine and give a quick squeeze before letting it go. “and I should just thank you for keeping him safe, even if it meant you were keeping him away from me and my son.”

  “Maybe you should thank your idiot friend, Ace. He’s the whole reason Hem came back. Ace left California, he was only supposed to come check on you and talk to Shame to be sure everything was as it should be here, nothing disturbed. When Ace didn’t go back to California as scheduled, Hem knew he was either setting him up or making a play for you. Hem called me and told me to finally let Shame in on all this shit. Hem wasn’t about to let you move on with Ace. Would have been a fuck of a lot easier if Shame and the boys would have just believed me when I tried to tell them in the first place. Ace was being a pussy and wouldn’t admit it for a while, ‘til Shame found a way to get him to talk. That wasn’t pretty.”

  Now I know why Hem came back now, before the hire has been handled. Ace was putting him through emotional hell, holding him hostage in California, while he was here, enjoying me.

  “Oh, no one ever told me that. I’m really sorry you were put in the middle of this. I am. We are a family of drama, most we cause ourselves.” I give him a short smile, embarrassed to admit what I just did.

  “My sister, she was happy like you. Free spirit, loved with her whole heart, and if you were lucky enough to get in on that love, then you were given a gift that always gave. She was smart, funny, she had a great laugh. You remind me of her sometimes, the way you are with your theatrical family and how much you love and trust each of them. She didn’t have her happy ending that I wanted for her, which she deserved. She was murdered, but not before being brutally raped again and again by a street gang. She had the worst ending to a short life.”

  I let out a small gasp and he hears it and pours us our third shot. We shoot it back, then he continues. “I saw what they did to Cherry. Did you know that? I was there.”

  I nod, because I do remember being told that Hood was the one that met the boys that night at the church to tell them Cherry was coming home eventually, after Greyson was done playing with her. He had no power with the Angels under Warren’s reign. No one here has ever placed blame on him for what happened. The only blame we ever laid were at the hands of Warren and Greyson.

  “She didn’t deserve that. Fuck, Sadey, no woman does. It was brutal and served no purpose other than Greyson’s need to feed off hurting women.

  “then saw what he did to Mace. Sadey, you were next. You were either going to lose Hem or lose life as you knew it. There would be no guarantee the hire would have killed you either…just hurt you so bad you would have wished he had ended your misery.

  “I was caught in the middle. I knew what was in play with Warren and Hem. I just couldn’t sit and let it happen. Neither could Risk. So we did what we did throwing caution to wind and prayin’ for a miracle that it worked, and Sadey, we are so fuckin’ close. Now, all we have is some crazy man stalking. He hasn’t made any more attempts than that. We will find him, handle him, and then move the fuck on from this nightmare.”

  “Hood...”

  “Not done yet, Miss. Hem wasn’t going to go with me that night, had no intentions of leaving. He was bleeding out. Fucker fought me tooth and nail to just leave him there, to die with honor, knowing his family was going to live long and happy lives. He was drowning in his own blood.

  I see Hood’s concentration is no longer on me; he’s losing himself into a thought or memory that I’ve no way to connect with.

  Looking in the window into the basement where Warren currently holds Hem hostage, we can see he’s in bad shape. The sadist has him tied to a chair and he’s been beating on him for a while now. Pussy that he is, he knew Hem surrendered without weapon and that takes balls, but to sit and torture him after that knowledge is a new form of evil even for that psycho.

  Blood drips from the knife held in Warren’s hand beside him and Hem is bleeding from his side onto the floor from a wound that looks to be near one of his left ribs. His eyes are shut, the right one covered in blood as well, and the swelling has had enough time to form around it and hold it shut.

  “Damn it, Warren has been at this for a bit already. No way out of doin’ this clean, so let’s just work fast.”

  Risk removes the supplies from the bag as preparations for a small engagement are made.

  When hearing the phone conversation between Warren and Hem a couple days prior, Risk had mentioned that Warren was acting deranged and called me to see what could be done to keep Hem from doin’ this. We had only come up with one plan and that was to intervene without an invitation from neither Hem nor Warren. Thus, we ended up here in a dark basement at the Angels’ club, waiting carry out one last ditch effort to help a former enemy. Even gangs and clubs come together for a higher cause; raping, torturing and killing innocent female family members is something that, unfortunately, I have experience with and we all believe is the ultimate form of evil.

  “Stack mentioned while he was talking to Shame this morning that he’s already onto something Hem had in play, so it won’t be long until Shame blows this hole wide open.”

  “Fuckin’ Shame, he’s always been a fuckin’ hot head.” Risk is not a fan of Shame or Peril. This has never been a secret. However, his hate for Warren is greater than his hate for Shame, which is why he called my attention to this.

  “Exactly, I would prefer not to be here for the fireworks that will explode if he gets here and finds Hem’s already dead.”

  We turn our heads from our bags when we hear Hem coughing. He’s starting to come around and Warren verbally continues to express his distaste for him.

  “Count on three, then we’re storming in. Ready for this, brother?”

  Risk nods in response to the plan. Fuck if it isn’t the only plan we have left.

  As we start counting down we both feel the adrenaline piping through our blood. This will finally put an end to the reign of the piece of shit that is Warren Cash and his selfish demise of the club, Angels in Hell.

  Pushing through the door, Risk uses a crowbar to immediately take Warren down with a hit to the head. He’s on the ground, completely subdued.

  Nicely done, Risk, nicely done.

  He stands over a motionless and bloodied Warren, I need to be sure he’s not going to kill him. He doesn’t need to take responsibility for this if this shit goes bad. He still wears the Angel cut. “Leave him alive. If Hem dies, Shame will want to take his time. Shame and Hem, they are more than club brothers. Leave it up to him what he wants done.”

  “What the fuck you want done now then?”

  Looking around the room I see absolutely nothing that could subdue Warren until cavalry arrives. The room is empty. The only furniture left is the chair Hem is slouching on.

  “Here, help me with Hem and then tie him to that chair. I don’t want to move him any more than needed until we have help. Get Hem the fuck outta here, though.”

  I hear Risk dragging Warren into the chair as I look over Hem inch by inch. Hem’s body is shaking, likely due to the extent of injuries and blood loss. There is no way he has long, if he can make it through this at all.

  After calling Cable down to help, we wait. The doctor was paid hefty to keep his mouth shut and Cable is bringing him here to assess the damages.

  Hem is starting to come around. I know death. I’ve been around it enough times that this tells me the heaven’s angels are circling. I don’t owe him anything. We’ve never been able to see eye to eye on much, but he has my respect for doing what he’s done for his family.

  “Hem, you hear me?” I slap his face as it pales and can see his eyes rolling under the lids. He’s still shaking and there’s a lot of blood. He doesn’t answer me, so
I smack him in the face again. Still nothing.

  “What the fuck you do with Warren? Don’t tell me you got him out of here, brother? He finds out you were involved, he will kill us all, including the good doctor here.”

  The sleazebag doctor takes two steps back upon hearing Cable’s words. I see another face behind the doctor and am immediately relieved to see Risk is back.

  “I got him. He’s in the storage unit next door. Let me stay with the doc and Cable. You head upstairs and wait for Shame, if he shows.”

  “He’ll show and when he does, you can be certain of hearing him.”

  I make my way upstairs, leaving Hem to be looked after by the boys. I wait. I hear nothing coming; it’s oddly quiet.

  After I light a smoke and take the first drag, I’m pulled up by the back of the shirt by a very pissed off Shame. Raider, Gunner, and Honor come out of the darkness towards us. They each have a look of revenge shadowing their faces.

  “Where the fuck is Warren and Hem, Hood?” Shame is seething death. He’s enveloped in anger.

  “Downstairs. Been waiting on your ass for a fuckin’ day, damn it. What took you so fuckin’ long?”

  “Not now. Take me to Hem.”

  “Shame…”

  Before I can finish the thought, Shame pushes me against the brick building and has a grasp on my throat with such force, it takes only moments for spots to form in my vision.

  “Wait. Shame, we don’t know anything.” Gunner is pleading, but Shame doesn’t hear him. My body is going limp and I can feel myself start to pass out. As soon as I’m convinced this is my end, though, Shame releases me from his hold and I fall to my knees, gasping for air.

  “Hem is dead. Warren is alive.” It’s all I can muster to say.

  “Raider, find Hem. I don’t believe my brother is dead. I’m going after Warren.”

  Finally catching my breath and getting up from my knees, I make my way through the dark clubhouse to find Shame is frantically searching its interior rooms. He won’t find them up here. They are in the dungeon downstairs. Hem is in the same room where Cherry spent her stay and Warren is in the next room, waiting to die.

  “Follow me. They aren’t up here. You’re wasting your time.”

  We make our way downstairs. The door holding Hem is locked and Shame tries to pry it open. I grab for his attention, silently asking the other Peril brothers for help in doing so. Gunner grabs Shame, bringing him back to us from his determined power that is about to bust the wrong door down.

  “Warren’s here. Raider, come with me. I will take you to Hem.”

  Shame says nothing. He doesn’t need to because after finding his way to Warren’s cell, his foot goes through the door, nearly knocking it off its hinges.

  Raider follows me down the small hall in the dark and, as I turn the key to the door, I hear Warren let out a scream of pain. Sensing I don’t have time, I bust the door open the moment the lock turns.

  Doctor Brady, Risk, and Cable stand in one corner of the room. They have draped a sheet over Hem and blood is seeping through its threads. A chill runs up my spine; I didn’t make it to him in time. My mind briefly moves back to another time when I saw my sister laying in the same position. Her sheet was black, this one is white, but the memory is laced in red.

  Raider makes his way to Hem, removes the sheet, and lets out a mournful howl as he comprehends that his friend, brother, and president is lying dead on a cold basement floor.

  Cable and Risk grab him by the shoulders to help him up. Instantly Raider’s body tenses in anger and throws Cable, tossing him backwards. “Easy, go find Shame. He’s going to need all you have to get through this without killing everyone on the way out.” Risk sounds convincing.

  “Fuck!” That’s all Raider says on his way out of the room and back down the hall that led him here just minutes before.

  “He doesn’t have much time. We need to move him.” Doctor Brady is more alert than I’ve ever seen him. It’s a good sign because as long as Hem still breathes, he has a chance to survive this.

  “Hem is a stubborn piece of shit when he wants to be, but…but I’m tellin’ ya now, his love for you is what runs so deep, what keeps him breathin’. When I told him Shame killed Warren, he knew exactly what that meant. The only way to protect you was to survive it, gain strength, lay low, and win. That’s what your boy is doin’ by being here now. I would have given my left arm for my sister to have a man like Hem in her life; loving her the way Hem loves you.

  “Forgive him, Sadey. Trust him again. He’s going to win. I just hope that, for his sake, he doesn’t lose his prize in the meantime. He would have fought his way back to you for nothing.”

  God, I need to stop this before I have a mental break in sight of a near stranger. Shame and Mace know him and trust him now, but I don’t know him and I can’t hear his words anymore.

  “Hood, are you always this emotional? This is like our first conversation and you’re all about the drama. I don’t think we have enough here to drink for this heart to heart.”

  “Well then, Sadey, you gonna cry? ’cause I’ve heard stories about you and I hear you’re a god awful crier. Hem missed it, missed seeing you cry over your girly books and movies, but from what I hear, I don’t think I would miss it, at all. Hearing Kegs explain it, sounds like I may need a towel to wipe off with once you’re done.”

  We hold each other in a serious stare for about ten seconds, then burst out in laughter. It feels so good to sit with a stranger, drink in hand, in a safe place, and laugh freely. It’s been forever since I’ve felt like laughing.

  “Sugar? Hood? What the fuck?” Oh Lord, ‘Angry Hem’ is up and moving again.

  “Honey, we are having a drink. Would you like one? If I remember right, I think I saw some of that water, which comes from the well, in the fridge. Or your lazy ass can try the spigot.”

  I’m still so pissed at him for our fight an hour ago, but after the light that Hood shared, I’m finding it difficult to stay that way.

  “She’s a funny girl, Hem. Ornery as fuck, but she’s funny.” Hood is smiling at Hem.

  “You don’t have to tell me, brother. Pain’-in-my-fuckin’-ass.”

  He turns his upset face to me now, “I knew you were pissed at me and you left pissed, so to avoid my life from playing out like a goddamn Neil Diamond ballad, I thought I would come down and what I find is you two laughing and carryin’ on. Sadey, come back to my bed so I can sleep, huh? Bring the bottle of Jose with you. Gonna get you drunk enough to make some bad decisions”

  “Fine, you big damn baby.”

  I stand, turning to Hood, embracing him in a small tight hug, “Hood, nice chatting. Look forward to seeing you again, soon?”

  Hem growls in my ear because, once I made my intentions clear to enter Hood’s space, Hem moved quickly to us.

  “Yeah, I’m around. Goodnight, Sadey May. Goodnight, Hem.”

  Hem hisses in my ear now as he pulls me to walk away with him. He doesn’t miss a damn thing, even in his recent angry state.

  “Sadey May? What the fuck? He’s nicknaming you now? Christ woman, I can’t take my eyes off you for a fuckin’ minute can I?”

  “Hem, shut up and take me to your naked bed and make me your naked girl. You and I are all done talking. Every time you speak I get more pissed off at you. Let’s go fuck it out.”

  No other words need to be spoken, because I’m off my feet and over his shoulder headed back to his cave, where, I have just decided after talking with Hood, I want to make my permanent residence again.…and I just noticed. Hem didn’t flinch at my phrasing this time.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ''All my life I've looked at words as though I were seeing them for the first time.''

  -Ernest Hemingway

  The sun is blinding. Cursing my few tequila shots from last night, I stand shakily, getting up from the bed where Hem still sleeps. He didn’t rest much at all last night between Ace’s skank testing our resolve to work things out, hav
ing our walk down memory lane that ended in tears, coming to get me from the “brutal clutches” of Hood, and the emotional strangle he held on me, then bringing me upstairs and marking me his, yet again. I’m going to let the brute sleep-in while I run to get Patrick.

  On my way down the stairs I hear conversation coming from the room that Ace has been staying in. It’s not surprising that he’s in his old room. No one is extremely happy with Ace right now being that his bitch is making everyone uncomfortable and that he hid Hem from us for so long, even if it was because he was trying to protect him…but I know Ace always felt that this was home and he was comfortable in his room. I don’t want to know what’s happening behind those doors. I am getting weary of feeling so emotional with this.

  After stopping in the common area to get all my stuff I had brought with me last night, I start my walk of shame to the front door. I’m shocked at what I find outside. Cherry is sitting on the front stoop. She’s a mess. It’s a small relief to see that I’m not alone taking the walk of shame home, wearing last night’s clothes, makeup, and the just fucked look. I hadn’t seen her with anyone last night and I’ve no interest in asking her who put that just fucked look on her.

  She notices me coming to her and she turns her head in my direction. She looks rough, though not her usual club whore rough, but something has changed. I stare at her, waiting for her to say something to me, but she doesn’t.

  “Cherry, good morning. What are you doing out here and where is your coat?”

  She starts to giggle, not a good giggle, but more like a bizarre and itchy snicker. It’s when I take a seat next to her that I see why she’s acting the way she is. Shit, she’s using?

  “Sadey, Sadey, Sadey. What’s up, chicken butt?” She cackles at me louder than necessary.

  “Honey, what’s up is that you have white shit all over your goddamn nose. What the fuck are you doing? You use often? Does Hem know? Even if he does, he’s going to be livid. You can’t do that here. These guys don’t do drugs, or run them, or tolerate others that do.”