I was afraid to say I had a new outlook today because anytime someone said that, something tragic happened. I wouldn’t say I was hopeful because I didn’t want to do that to us. We deserved a fighting chance. I flipped the white pills into my mouth and washed it down with the water Logan left for me, praying they kicked in quick. I hadn’t had a hangover in some time, and this was a fucking powerful one.
Footsteps approached, and my body stilled in a half-awake, partially asleep stupor. The only other person who would be here would be Logan, so there was no need for alarm.
“Logan?” I called out through the house, just to settle my nerves a little, but there was no answer. I gathered the comforter around my body and made my way through his house to find him. “Don’t be a shit. Answer me.” Still no reply. I made it to the living room before I said anything again. “You’re starting to freak me out! Answer me, Logan!” I insisted, my hands shaking with fear against my body.
“Your fuck boy isn’t here, bitch,” a man wearing a black ski mask said with delight, licking his lips and smacked a wooden baseball bat against his palm.
I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, clutching the blanket against my raging heart. All of a sudden, I came to an abrupt halt, and my feet flew out from under me. “I said stay put, bitch!” another voice violently shouted from behind me, and he yanked the blanket from my grasp. “Someone has to pay for the sins of the Bastards, and that someone is you.”
Excruciating pain jolted from the back of my head to the front, and warm liquid trickled down my face, and I fought the urge to vomit where I laid. I’d never been in such horrific agony in my life, and I couldn’t fight the heat filling my body as I slowly blinked my eyes. I tried to stay awake, I needed to. I was a fighter. I refused to give up.
I propped my hands under my body and pushed up from the ground, but it was useless. I didn’t have the strength to support my body. A sharp kick landed in the middle of my back, and a shrill scream pierced my ears. Everything was moving slowly and then speeding up. I didn’t have any concept of time. My face smacked against the hardwood, and the pain was too much. I couldn’t fight it anymore.
Everything faded to black.
14
Crow
Ghoul called an impromptu meeting at the clubhouse to line everything out for when Heavy and the guys arrived. The more we talked about it, the hotter my blood boiled. If The Dogs hadn’t tried to cut us out of the deal, none of this shit would be necessary. I was happy to see our brothers regardless of the reason, but I wished it was under better circumstances.
“What’s the plan, Boss?” Wily mumbled over his cup of coffee, no doubt nursing his hangover.
Ghoul’s light blue eyes trailed to me, and he tipped his head to the side. “What do you think, Crow? How should we handle them if and when they come knocking?”
“Not really sure, Ghoul. But if they are stupid enough to bring it to our doorstep, we’ll be ready for whatever.” I sipped my black coffee, thinking of the many ways we could torture them. Some people got their road names for noticeable physical traits, like Sledgehammer. He earned his name for the thing he called a dick. It more closely resembled a hammer, and he would nail anything that sat still long enough. The same could be said for Sac; his name left little to the imagination, and it was pretty apparent to people why we called him what we did. My name, on the other hand, was a little harder for people to figure out unless they were truly familiar with crows. They’re adaptable birds that never forget a face, and often, the murder, a group of crows, will group together to hunt down a predator if it has killed one of their own. All of these things were true for me as well. I usually wasn’t the first to draw blood, but if you fucked with us, I would find you by any means required and seek retribution. I might not remember everyone’s name, but I would recognize their face as if it had been scorched into my mind.
“That’s a damn sure thing,” Circuit agreed, grabbing a broom, and sweeping dirt into a pile on the floor.
“How about we table this for now and discuss it further once Heavy arrives?” Wily prompted us, grabbing a hold of the discussion and bringing it to order since the subject was going nowhere fast. He was the best SAA I’d ever seen, and I was happy to call him brother. It was his job to keep us in line when it came to stuff like this, so he was usually the levelheaded one during the meetings.
We all consented and would have church on Wednesday after the DC chapter arrived. It gave us time to think about how to handle the situation…if there was one. I made a quick stop at the shop to check on everything.
Lonnie had just finished an oil change and was lowering the car off the rack as I walked through the doors. “How’s everything, Lon?”
“Just getting ready to close down for the day. Did you need something?” He pulled his gloves off one at a time, lifting his hat and wiping the sweat off his brow on the sleeve of his jean uniform as he walked into the office to print out the customer’s ticket.
“Nah, just checking on you guys while I had a few minutes. Need anything?” I followed him, taking the time to listen to the bell ding above the door—my favorite thing about the shop when I was a little boy. Dad used to get so pissed at me continuously opening and closing the door just to ring a bell. The strangest things that most did not give much thought to, ended up being the things your mind tied memories to.
“I think we’re pretty good here,” he mindlessly answered, his hand clicking away on the mouse. “No, scratch that. We’re running low on plugs, brake shoes, wiper blades…Okay, we need to order some shit.” He chuckled and raised his hands over his head as he shrugged.
“Write me up an item list and I’ll order them Friday. Think we can make it until then?”
“Should be fine, if not, I’ll have John run out and get what we need.”
“Sounds good to me. Call me if you need anything in the meantime.”
“Will do.” He grabbed the brim of his ballcap and tipped it in my direction before giving his undivided attention to the customer. Lon had to be pushing eighty. He was one of the last workers Dad had hired before he passed away, and Lon wasn’t young then. Per the government, he was only allowed to work so many hours, or he would lose his pension. Even when he wasn’t working, he still came to the shop to drink coffee and bark orders at the younger employees. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for me to slip his son, John, a wad of cash for him to sneak into his dad’s house. When Lon would tell tales to us guys about him being one of the luckiest sons of a bitch since he always found extra cash laying around the house, I would grin and encourage him to continue with more stories.
On a general note, I wasn’t an asshole, people only assumed I was. I lived by a code in and out of the club. I made it a point to ensure nothing illegal was intertwined with my business. It was one of the only aspects of my life I kept separate from the club. I refused to ruin Dad’s name for my own profit. He might not have been there in all the conventional senses other fathers were, but he taught me how to be a fine businessman. I treated my employees well, and in turn, they kept the customers happy.
I drank too much and had almost lost count of the number of times a tattoo gun engraved ink into my skin, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t a good person…minus countless felonies. Who knew, had I moved out of Cleveland, my life might have taken an entirely different direction. Maybe I might have enrolled in the military or some shit. Truly, I had no clue. The possibilities were endless and pointless to consider because the blinding fact was, I hadn’t moved out of Ohio and may never.
My favorite part about riding wasn’t hearing the power of the engine, although it was something I enjoyed. It was the serenity. When I was on my bike, things seemed right with the world. Time slowed just enough for me to break through my cloudy judgment and see things clearly. Although Ray and I hadn’t spent much time together recently, it was almost as if we’d picked up where we left off except on better terms. I wasn’t sure where we would end up, but I hoped it was together, and this t
ime we would make it last. I would put in the work and not give up so easily. My mind was made up. As soon as I got home, I was going to lay it all out for her, and we could move forward. It was a ballsy move, but I wasn’t known for being meek. I spoke my mind to everyone else, but with her, I held back, afraid of what she might think. Afraid I’d lose her again.
Slowing my speed and pulling into the driveway, the open front door caught my attention. I shook my head and smiled, figuring Ray had gone out to get some air and had forgotten to close it when she went inside. I didn’t want to scare her, but I needed to ease her into the subject that it wasn’t safe right now. I would protect her, without question, however, I couldn’t do so if she did things like this.
The air was stale inside the house yet had a crispness to it. There was an undeniable lingering scent of blood that grew stronger with each step I took toward the living room. “Ray!” I yelled her name so loud and with such force, my body shook. Fuck. Where was she? I prayed to God that she was okay. Not like this. Shit. Fear throbbed through my veins, and I stumbled into the living room. A pool of blood was in the center of the room. It wasn’t hers. It couldn’t be hers. Tears stung my eyes, and I told myself to remain calm. I had to. The blood was streaked, and I could make out a small print. Her handprint. It was certainly too small to belong to a man.
“Ray. Please answer me!” I begged in a voice so weak I didn’t even recognize it as my own, although my lips moved when it was said. Frantically, I searched all of the rooms in the house for her, but she wasn’t here. “What have I done?” I sobbed into the empty house, calling her cell, praying she would answer and have a feasible explanation for all of this. I counted out the rings aloud, “One. Two. Come on, Ray. Three. Fucking answer. Four. Fuck!” I screamed when it went to voicemail. My knees kissed the floor, and I clasped my head in my hands after pulling Wily’s name up on the screen.
“What’s up?”
I cut him off, “Get here. Now.” Ending the call, I let the phone slip from my hands and clatter to the floor in defeat. This was my fault. If I never stopped by her house, she would still be safe. The amount of horror I’d unintentionally brought into her life was unmeasurable. While I foolishly accepted her back into my life, the dread was pouring into hers by the gallons. I knew I would ruin her, but false hopes and expectations had me floating amongst a sea of blindness. I was too buoyant to rip the fucking blinders off to recognize that each time I touched her, all my transgressions seeped from my body into hers. She’d paid for my sin in blood.
Her voice tipped with a hint of playfulness echoed in my ears, “Are you bad like me?”
I had told her I was a fucking nightmare, knowing I would stain her innocence, but it was mostly a joke. I didn’t actually believe the words as I spat them out. When I told her I was the fucking worst, the meaning of the statement hadn’t sunken into my bones. Now, kneeling in a pool of what I could only assume to be her blood, I understood their true meaning.
I hated myself. My fingertips touched the bloody print of hers, and I whispered, “I’m sorry, Ray,” as vicious uncontrollable sobs left my body. “I’m so sorry.”
15
Ray
“Ray, grab the tacklebox, girl, and I don’t mean the one in your face,” Dad hollered from the truck right as I passed the garage. I grinned and flipped him off from where I stood. He was my best friend, other than my boyfriend, Logan. I loved going fishing with him because it meant time away from Mom. No matter how hard I tried, we didn’t get along. I was always doing something wrong in her eyes, but I was trying my best, really I was.
I bent down to grab the tackle box and started getting sick to my stomach. “You okay? You’re not looking so good.” Dad’s mouth was moving in sync with the words, but it wasn’t his voice. It was one I heard before, though. I tried to move my hands, but they refused.
“Help me, Daddy,” I cried as tears streaked my face, and I fell to my knees, unable to stand anymore.
Sadistic laughter pulled me into consciousness, and my eyelids flew open in response. I was far too weak to fight anyone off at the moment, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try anyway. I refused to give up.
“You can call me daddy if you like,” a masked man purred, running a long blade along my collarbone and grunted. “I’ll give the Bastards one thing, they know how to pick ‘em. This one is sweet.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and turned his head to the side. It was only then I realized he wasn’t talking to me anymore, but the man standing across the room from us.
“Please. I have a savings account. I’ll give you the pin, you can have all the money I have,” I pleaded in a small voice as the room spun around me, knowing damn well they’d be even more pissed when they saw the little amount I was offering them.
“How sweet. She thinks she can right their wrongs. You can’t so shut the fuck up and save your breath. You’re going to need it for this next part.” The guy across the room manically laughed. “Do it,” he instructed the other man; he was the one in charge and calling the shots. He was the one I would have to convince to give me my freedom.
“Finally, if I wanted to listen to someone whine, I would have stayed at home.” I made a mental note that he was married or at the very least had a significant other because of the ring on his finger. I’d seen enough crime shows to know little facts were important.
He jammed the tip of the blade through my skin, a tiny whimper passed through my lips, and I bit down on my bottom lip to muffle the noise. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing how bad it hurt. The rest of the knife ripped through my flesh with ease as if it were warm butter. It hadn’t taken as much force as one would expect. The sound alone was enough to turn my stomach; it was like a rare steak being ripped apart against the grain. A tormented scream flowed up my throat and surrounded all of my senses. I couldn’t concentrate on anything else other than the pain, so I focused on it to even my breathing out as I gritted my teeth.
“I think she likes it.” He sounded amused, enjoying his torture of me.
I spat on his shoe; I couldn’t help it. I’d never been a pushover, and I was too stupid to be one now.
“You bitch!” he growled, backhanding my cheek. My body flew sideways, my cheekbone smacking against the floor, and instantly, an unrelenting throbbing sting pounded in distress. I didn’t move or speak; I didn’t have the power within me this time. The coolness of the stone floor was soothing and welcoming. My eyes fluttered as I fought the fall into nothingness, but it took me prisoner yet again.
16
Crow
Ghoul and Wily hooked their biceps under my arms and lifted me to my feet. “We’re going to get her, brother. Sit tight and we’ll handle it,” Ghoul assured me and wrapped his arm around my waist, letting me go when I waved my hands in the air.
“No!” A sharp tone rattled up my windpipe as I clutched the note Diablo found taped to my door. I’d passed right by it because I was in too much of a hurry to get to Ray. It was from The Dogs and they had the audacity to sign it:
Bastards,
You took our money and torched our fucking warehouse, so we took this sweet ass. She’s just the first of many. Bodies will continue to disappear until we get our money. Bring what we’re owed plus 50K to the rendezvous point tonight at 1800 hours, and we’ll call it square.
P.S. I would hurry. Monster isn’t known for his patience in matters such as this. You’ll be lucky if this dumb bitch lives to see daylight again. Who knows, she might if she’s a good little girl.
With love,
Dogs of Chaos
“I’m going to fucking kill every last one of those fuckers!” I swore, getting to my feet, and Wily stood between the door and me.
“Crow, we have to form a plan,” he slowly articulated, walking toward me, his palms swatting at the air as he took another step closer, trying to calm me down.
“Alright, what’s the fucking plan?” I insisted, punching a nearby support beam of the
house, my knuckles crunched against the wood, and blood spattered the adjacent wall.
“Call the rest of the guys,” Ghoul instructed Diablo and Wily, “Tell them we’re on our way and to be at the clubhouse. Mandatory. No excuses.”
“You got it, boss,” Diablo quickly replied, pressing his fingers to the keypad of his burner phone.
“Flashman, what kind of explosives do you have at your place?” Wily eyed him, getting right to the point as soon as he called the meeting to order.
“I have enough shit to light their asses up like it’s the Fourth of July.” His lips spread into a wide grin, and he shoved a cigar between them.
“Sac and I will get all the counterfeit bills, and we’re going to stuff them into one of the hot vehicles Diablo picked up a few weeks ago. A 2020 ‘Vette should cover fifty thou and then some, right?”
Diablo nodded his head.
“Right. So, we stuff the bags of cash in the backseat, and you line the bottom of that fucker with as much shit as your little heart desires, Flash.”
“Fucking, right.” Ghoul nodded in agreement, glancing over to me. “We don’t kill a damn one of them until we tail them back to Crow’s nurse.”
“I want that part. I’m going to make them regret the day they ever fucked with the Royal Bastards,” I spoke for the first time since we reached the clubhouse.
“’Course, brother. Wouldn’t have it any other way. Spider, you and Sleeper stay back in case we need back up. Oh, and get a hold of Heavy, fill him in on the details.” Ghoul made sure everyone had an assignment, not giving anyone time to get a word in edgewise. “Sledge, you’re with Diablo and Flash.” He pointed his finger toward their end of the table. “Wily, you’re with Crow and me.” Unmistakable rage bounded from his words, and he pounded his fists against the table.
Bad Like Me: Royal Bastards MC Ohio Chapter Page 8
