by Evelyn Glass
She pulled him tighter as she gasped for breath. “Good.”
***
“It was Todd,” Jules said several hours later, his voice as cold as an arctic wind. He placed the phone on the side table.
“How do you know?” Rachel asked.
He stroked her hair. They were sitting on his couch, snuggled, as Rachel struggled with the death of her brother. She had alternately wept, raged, and held him with eerie calm. The calm times, like the one she was in now, were the most disturbing. It was as if she were waiting for Will to stop by for dinner.
“Ten brothers have been killed. Another one is in critical condition and has been take to the hospital in Alpine. The only brothers hit were the cleaning crew.”
“I thought you said it was the cartel.”
“They pulled the trigger… but Todd set it up. I know it. The hit is too specific. He must have found out. They killed families. Wade’s entire family is gone, his wife… his two kids. Gunned them all down at the dinner table.”
“My god…”
“I’m going to kill him for this,” Jules said, his tone brooking no argument.
“Why?”
“Because he deserves to die.”
“No… why would he kill the cleaning crew? Just to prevent the truth from getting out?”
“Probably. Trying to hold onto power.”
She was quiet, softly stroking his chest. “When you do… I want to be there. I want to watch his life drain away… as I watched Will’s life drain away.”
He didn’t answer her. She had seen enough death… and he didn’t want her to see any more.
Chapter Thirty Two
The shock of Will’s death was gone the next morning and Rachel was nearly incapacitated with grief. Her quiet sobs had pulled him from sleep early in the morning and she had cried most of the day, sitting, unmoving, as she stared at the wall.
He had tried to comfort her, but she was almost inconsolable. He had called Pam and Kristen, pulling the women of his friends together. Kristen still grieved her loss of Fish, but she had accepted it and tried to console Rachel and Pam. Several times Jules had to step away as the women wept for their losses lest he be overcome as well.
For the next two days, He’s Not Here was closed, Rachel unable to face work, or the place where her brother had been murdered. Jules was constantly at her side, holding her when she needed to be held, doing for her what he could. She was never alone. Rachel, Pam and Kristen had bonded in their grief and they began to help each other to heal. Only when the women were counseling each other did he leave her house.
During some of his absences, he called on the surviving family members of those that were gunned down. Most accepted him, crying in his arms as they begged for answers, answers he didn’t have. Others were openly hostile, obviously unaware of what was going on within the club. Those were the hardest because he couldn’t offer any comfort or explanation.
He also visited Jordan in the hospital, the only member to survive the attack other than himself. Jordan was expected to make a full recovery, but it was going to be a long and arduous journey for him. He had been lucky… he had been shot and left for dead, but the paramedics had arrived in time to stop the bleeding. The ventilator tube had been removed the day before when he was strong enough to breathe on his own again. He had pulled aside the oxygen mask and wheezed out his desire for Jules to avenge the death of his brothers. Squeezing his hand, Jules had promised.
As Forsaken 99 buried their dead brothers, Rachel was the only non-club members in attendance, and she was there only for Jules. She was burning with anger. Forsaken 99 had promised to protect Vallecito de Grande, and for ten years they had. But then they had broken their vow of service and the town was suffering for it.
“Thank you,” Jules said as he stepped back into her house. He had ridden with the club as an escort for dead. Some in the club had been openly hostile toward him, but he didn’t care. He owed it to these men to pay his final respects, and no one would stop him. The club may not have liked it, but he was still the Vice-President of the Forsaken 99 Motorcycle Club, and the club wasn’t so far gone that they were willing to have a fight at the funeral of their brothers.
“Todd didn’t look that choked up,” she sneered.
“I noticed that as well. But don’t worry… he will get his.”
She stepped into Jules’s embrace, needing to feel his touch. Tomorrow, after Will’s funeral she would go to the bar and survey the damage. It would be hard, but she couldn’t hide from it forever. She was sure that Jules would be there to help… help her clean up and to face what had to be faced.
“Are you okay?” he asked. Each day she had improved a little bit more. She still rarely smiled, but her tears were less frequent and she seemed less lost.
“Yes. Tomorrow I will go to the bar. It can’t stay closed forever. Will wouldn’t want that.”
“No, he wouldn’t. You want me along to help… or do you need to be alone.”
“I need your help. I’m not sure I can face it alone.”
“I’ll be there, every step of the way.”
She offered her lips and he kissed her… gently, slowly, offering her support and strength through that simple touch. “I knew you would be. You’re the only reason I can face it. You have been here for me. I can’t tell you how much that has meant to me, to have you hold me when I cry… put me back on my feet when I fall.”
“You were there when I needed you. I will be there when you need me.”
She looked at him and she could feel the tears coming. She fought them, trying to be strong, but she was overwhelmed with her feeling for Jules and the loss of her brother. As she began to sob for what she had lost… and what she had found, he pulled her in close and held her tight.
***
The funeral for Will was small. A few of the town had attended, voicing their support for Rachel in her hour of darkness, but not as many as she expected. Jules, Kristen and Pam were the only people with even a passing connection to Forsaken 99 present at the funeral. Several members would have been there to pay their respects, but Jules has passed the word they were not welcome, and they had respected her wishes.
“Are you sure you are ready to do this?” Jules asks Rachel as they change out of the clothes they wore to the funeral.
“No… but I have to face it sooner or later. If it gets too bad we can come home. But I can’t even remember what the place looks like inside. I need to get the insurance started.” She paused a moment before continuing very quietly. “The only thing I remember is there is a lot of blood to clean up.”
“I will take care of that. That’s more than you should have to deal with.”
“Thank you,” she said, fighting back the tears. She took several deep breaths and she could feel the tears subside. “Just when I think I’m making progress,” she said with tearful giggle as she wiped her eyes.
“Shhh… I don’t know how you have coped as well as you have. You are incredibly strong… much stronger than I will ever be.”
“I’m only this strong because you are behind me, holding me up. I couldn’t do this without you.”
He touched her face and caressed her cheek softly. “I will always be behind you, ready to catch you if you fall, offering you a helping hand when you need it.”
She felt the tears threaten again but she willed them away. “I know.”
As Jules drove them to HNH in her old Chevy, she found herself wiping her eyes again. Will had loved this old truck… the truck he had learned to drive on. She forced the thoughts away, unable to bear the pain they brought.
“Are you sure you’re ready?” Jules asked as he unlocked the door.
“Just do it,” she said, steeling herself for what she was about to see.
Jules swung the door open and they stepped into a war zone. Only the front wall of the bar didn’t have bullet holes in it. The other three walls were riddled with holes, along with a section of the floor and part of the c
eiling. The bar looked like a pincushion with all the pins pulled out, and Jules could carry in both hands the number of unbroken liquor bottles. The entire place reeked of beer, booze and blood.
“Holy… shit…” Rachel breathed as she looked around.
Jules scanned the area around him. He didn’t remember it being this bad. “Yeah…” was all he could think to say.
“I don’t know where to begin.”
“With the telephone,” he said as he pulled the compact camera out of his pocket. “You need to get the insurance started on his place. While you do that, I will get pictures.”
While Rachel worked the phone, Jules began snapping pictures of everything. Everywhere he looked, there was damage. Every beer keg had been punctured so over a hundred gallons of beer had flooded the floor, not to mention all the whiskey.
After shooting more than two-hundred photos, Jules got the HNH credit card from Rachel and made a run to the nearest hardware store. The floor was a write off and would have to be completely refinished, but he could at least get most of the blood stain up… and a fan to ventilate the place.
When he returned with a chemical stripper for the floor, rags, steel wool, and a large box fan, Rachel had the door and windows open and the big vent running in the kitchen. The place still reeked, but it reeked far less than it had an hour ago.
Using the stripper and the steel wool, Jules worked diligently on his hands and knees to remove the dried blood. He very quickly got the worst of the blood up, but the stain was permanent and the wood would require sanding, or perhaps even replacing.
As he worked on the floor Rachel swept up the shattered glass and then mopped the floor. The spill has ruined the floor behind the bar, the wood buckled and uneven, but at least it was no longer sticky.
By the time darkness fell, the bar was in as good a shape as it was going to be until the master craftsmen arrived to replace all the damaged wood. The last thing they did before calling it a night was to severely deplete Rachel’s supply of tape and yellow stick notes by marking every bullet hole they could find in the walls, floor and ceiling. They didn’t bother with the bar area as it was so riddled with holes it was almost more holes than wood.
As they locked the doors for the night, Rachel seemed more like her old self than she had all week. Being busy had been good for her, keeping her mind occupied.
***
He’s Not Here was closed for almost a week as the craftsmen worked their magic in the bar. Rachel seemed well enough now that he was leaving her at work, dropping her off in the morning and picking her up in the afternoon, on his way to and from his own work.
Each night, as he picked her up, he was amazed at the progress of the bar. As the bar was carefully nursed back to health, so was Rachel, her spirits seemingly linked to the bar… their ships slowly righting together.
Finally, eight working days after they had first surveyed the damage in the bar, Rachel declared the bar ready to reopen the following day… a Friday… with the bar’s new hours… 6 pm to midnight. Jules had insisted on the new hours, at least for a while, so that he could be there, on guard, until they were sure that the danger had passed. Even the large mirror with the He’s Not Here logo etched in it behind bar was in place, one of last few things to be complete.
“The bar looks fantastic. Better than ever. You would never know what the place looked like two weeks ago.”
“I know,” Rachel said with one of her increasingly frequent smiles. “I want to thank you for all the help.”
“My pleasure. Did you see the mirror?”
“Looks great doesn’t it? I hope I don’t have replace it again. I’ve broken two in three months. That’s fourteen years of bad luck.”
Jules smiled. He was going to make her cry again. “Yes it does… but did you see the lower right corner?”
“No… why?”
“Come here,” he said as he led her behind the bar. He moved a couple of bottles so she could see.
She looked and then saw it. In the bottom corner, no larger than a quarter, was Will’s smiling face etched into the mirror. Below the picture it tiny letters it read, In loving memory of William Devon Wallace, then on the second line, the date of his birth… and his death. Below that the final line read, May the path he walks always slope downhill.
She blubbered once, tried to gather herself, whimpered again, then turned and buried her face into Jules’s chest as she sobbed.
As she sobbed she felt tears drip on her face. She looked up and saw Jules smiling at her as tears slowly rolled down his cheeks. “Thank you, Jules… Thank you for that,” she whispered as her tears began to subside.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him,” he murmured and she saw her pain reflected in his eyes… but the darkness that was there when his past failures haunted him was missing. He was healing… and she was glad.
“This is the first time I have cried in almost three days. I thought I was past this.”
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“I’m not… and… thank you.”
***
“What do you want, Todd?” Jules asked. He and Rachel were having dinner and he was in no mood to talk to Todd.
“Board meeting tonight. Eight pm at the clubhouse.”
“Oh… so we are having board meetings again, are we?”
“Just be there,” Todd snapped before he terminated the call.
“Don’t go,” Rachel said quietly, having heard the call over the speaker.
“I have to.”
“You don’t have to. The club is all but gone. You never have meetings anymore. You never do anything as a club. If you go, they could kill you.”
“I can take care of myself. And I would like him to try.”
“I want to go.”
“No. Not this time. You have to open the bar tomorrow. It will be okay. Trust me.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I don’t either… but I am still a member of the club, and I’m still on the board. I have to go.”
“Just be careful.”
He looked at the clock. He need to go… he wanted to be there early to scope it out. “I will.”
She looked into his face. “Okay… but pass along a message from. The first Forsaken 99 member I see walk through the door of He’s Not Here will get a load of double-ought buck. Present company excluded,” she amended.
“I’ll tell them,” he said as he rose.
***
“Where’s your colors?” she asked when he stepped back into her house.
“They took them.”
“What?” she shouted as she leapt to her feet. “Why?”
“Todd had them convinced the hit was because we were feeding intel to the DEA.”
“How could he prove that?”
“He couldn’t, but he knew about Ellis. He has purged the board. Spence, Marsh, they’re out. Dwayne and Gigolo are now his Sergeant at Arms and Treasurer. Duck was voted off the board. Lloyd was put on in his place. TC and Hugh too. I suspect that Dwayne will be the new VP and Lloyd will take over as Sergeant at Arms.”
“Can he do that?”
“He can with the entire board in his pocket.”
“And you? Are you okay?”
“Yeah… I don’t really care anymore. But I promise you this… this isn’t over. I vowed to take this club back… and I will. I owe it to Wade, and Boggs… and all the others. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot. I’m taking the club back and I’m going to make it mean something again… or I will destroy it.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. But I will think of something.”
“I’m just glad you’re back safe.”
“Yeah. Todd wanted to go to the dance again, and I invited him try, but I guess they knew that killing me, now, would bring down even more heat. They will probably try at some point, after the heat dies down.” He saw Rachel blanch. “Don’t worry… I will be ready for them.”
Rachel realized that sh
e didn’t know if the cartel had made a hit on Jules or not. “I have been so wrapped up in my own shit… did the cartel try to kill you too?”
“Yes.”
“How did you escape?”
“I ran over the gunman with a skid-steer.”
“You what?”
