Chance: The Wild Ones (Jokers MC Book 4)

by Jessie Cooke

  The detective made notes along the way but didn’t say much. When he had all the information he wanted from Chance, he sent him back to the lobby to wait with Maddox. Poppy was there too, and she said they’d asked her the same questions they had Chance. The detective was gone for what seemed like forever. Maddox said he was probably checking their story with St. Mary’s Parish and St. Martin’s since their cases had crossed parish lines back then. It was 2:30 a.m. when the detective finally came out with a man he introduced as his partner, the man who had interviewed Poppy.

  “We’re going to head over to the house. I’ll need you all to stay here.”

  “No!” Poppy objected. “We haven’t seen our brother in five years!”

  “First, we don’t know yet if this is your brother. Second, if it is him, it’s a police matter at this point and we can’t have you there getting in the way.”

  “We won’t get in the way…” she said. Chance put his hand on his sister’s arm and when she looked at him with tear-filled eyes he said:

  “We’ve waited this long, Poppy. We need to let them do this right, so Bubba stays safe. So everyone stays safe. This waiting is killing me too…but just think, by the time the sun comes up, this could all be over.” A stray tear rolled down her pretty face, but she nodded. They watched the detectives leave, flanked by four uniformed officers in marked cars and once they were gone Maddox said:

  “You two think you can stay in the car and do as you’re told?”

  Poppy’s face lit up and Chance chuckled. “Yes!” Poppy assured him. Chance wasn’t sure he trusted his sister, but he wanted to be there as badly as she did, so he didn’t say anything.

  They followed Maddox out to a blue sedan, but before they got in, he looked at them both and said, “Are you armed?”

  “No. We couldn’t bring anything with us on the plane.” Maddox nodded. Chance understood he was worried that since their emotions were running so high, one of them might do something stupid. He didn’t blame him. He wasn’t known for his impulse control, and neither was his sister.

  The drive to the house where Maddox had taken the picture earlier in the day took about half an hour. The detectives’ unmarked car and the two police cruisers were parked in the driveway, one of the cruisers blocking the entrance/exit with red and blue lights flashing. The house was huge, a virtual castle in Chance’s eyes, and as he sat in the car that Maddox had parked across the street, he let himself imagine that at least it looked like a nice place for a kid to grow up.

  The lights were on in the house, and the front door stood open, but from their vantage point, they couldn’t see or hear anything. Time passed slowly again…but just short of an hour after they got there, things started happening. First, they watched as one of the uniform officers led a man out of the house. The man was middle-aged and balding, wearing a pair of striped pajamas and slippers. His hands were cuffed behind his back. As they were putting him in the backseat of one of the cruisers, another office came out, escorting a woman. She had long gray hair braided down her back, and she was wearing a nightgown or robe and slippers. Her hands were also cuffed behind her back. When they got to the second police car however and started to put her inside, someone else came out the door. Chance couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he could hear her screaming. He rolled down the window and he could make out the shape of three men just before they stepped into the light. The woman was yelling, “He’s mine! Tell them, Dirk! Tell them you’re ours!” Her voice sounded desperate…but Chance was no longer looking at her, he was looking at the men…two men, the detectives, and one boy, a teenager who also wore pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, standing between them. When he stepped into the light, Chance could see it was the boy that Maddox had sent him a photo of earlier. His long brown hair hung down almost over his eyes, but Chance could see them…they were wide, and he had tears streaking his face. The biker’s hand was on the door handle before he even knew what he was doing. He heard Maddox call after him, and he heard Poppy, running and trying to keep up behind him. When he hit the driveway, one of the uniformed officers yelled at him to stop, but he kept going. He heard one of the detectives cuss, but he didn’t stop until he was right in front of his brother. It was Bubba…almost grown, but still wearing that sweet, innocent face of the little boy Chance loved and missed so much.

  The two of them stared at each other, Chance couldn’t seem to find his voice. It was Poppy who broke the silence, or actually spoke over the detective who was telling them to get back to their car. “Bubba? Bubba…Oh God, it is you! Oh my God! I missed you so much.” Poppy was suddenly hugging him. She had her arms wrapped all the way around the tall boy’s body, but Chance could see his face over her shoulder. He looked scared.

  “It’s okay, Bubba…everything’s going to be okay now.”

  Suddenly, and in a voice Chance immediately recognized, Bubba said, “She told me you were dead…” A single tear rolled down his face, and Poppy let go of him and looked up at his face. He looked down at her and another tear began to roll down his cheek. “She said you were both dead.”

  One Week Later

  “Hey, babe? You okay?” Chance sat in the rocking chair in the baby’s room, holding his son in his arms. The baby had fallen asleep while Chance was feeding him, but he hadn’t wanted to put him down. He’d been sitting there watching him sleep and staring out the window for an hour going back and forth between hating himself and hating his mother.

  “Yeah,” he told Sharon, forcing a smile when she came into the room.

  “Here,” she said, “let me lay him down.” She took the baby out of his arms. Little Bubba was up to almost five pounds now and he’d been home for two days. But Chance watched him every chance he got. He was so worried that they’d sent him home too soon, and something would happen to him. He’d only met the baby two weeks before, and already the love and protectiveness he felt toward him consumed him. It was partly for that reason that he was having such a hard time even beginning to grasp what his mother had done. He’d kill anyone for hurting his son. He’d kill himself for doing to him what his own mother had done. “Hey,” Sharon said, softly touching him on the shoulder. “You need to eat something. Come on, I’ll heat up some leftovers.” Chance had missed dinner. He’d been at the police station in St. Mary’s Parish, once again telling his side of the story. They’d all been through it more times than he could even count over the past week. Bubba was in a foster home, and they hadn’t been able to see him. Poor Poppy was losing her mind…and as much as Chance didn’t want to admit it, he felt like he was losing his too. They’d finally got their brother back, but they’d been able to talk to him for about five minutes that first night, and they hadn’t seen him since.

  He got up and followed Sharon into the kitchen. He stood with his back pressed into the counter, watching her take out the night’s leftovers and put them on a plate. The twins were already in bed when he got home, and Sharon had been trying to get the baby down. He’d taken that over so she could shower, and now his arms felt empty without the little guy in them. “You think they’ll ever let us see him?”

  “Oh, baby,” Sharon said, turning to face him. “Is that what you’re worried about? Of course they will. Your mother’s arraignment is tomorrow morning, right?” He nodded and with a distasteful look on her face she said, “And the other two?”

  “In the afternoon.”

  “Well, I’m sure he’ll be at the hearings…what did the attorney say?”

  “He said that they just had to put him through some mental health tests and make sure he was stable and then we should be able to see him…but they didn’t say how long any of that would take.” Sharon took his plate out of the microwave and set it on the table. Chance sat down and started to eat, but he wasn’t tasting any of the food. After a few bites he said, “I should have made her tell me, that first time I found her…”

  “Oh, Chance, please stop beating yourself up. None of this is your fault.”

  “
I knew, though. I knew in my gut that she knew something all along…”

  “And you tried to get her to tell you. What else could you have done? The police couldn’t even get her to tell them anything.”

  “I don’t know…I just know I failed him, so many times, and Poppy too.”

  Sharon sat down next to him and put her hand on his. “Look at me.” Chance raised his eyes from his plate and looked into Sharon’s pretty hazel ones. “Now listen to me. You and Poppy both were kids. Baby, you’re just barely an adult now…”

  He chuckled at that. Sharon didn’t often mention their age difference, but when she did, she sometimes seemed self-conscious about it. She had just turned thirty, and Chance was just shy of twenty-three. “I’ve been an adult for a while now,” he told her with a smile, and then added, “Mrs. Robinson.”

  She smacked his hand, playfully. “Stop it. My point is that you did more than any of the police officers who were supposed to be out there looking for him, you and Poppy both. You didn’t fail anyone; you were the one who was failed by your mother…all three of you were. You have to forgive yourself, baby. You’re a good man in spite of those…” Again, she made a sour face. It was hard for Sharon to speak badly of anyone so what she said next surprised Chance and even made him laugh: “...dickheads that raised you.”

  When he finished laughing, he said, “I love you. I’m so fucking lucky to have you.”

  She squeezed his hand and said, “We’re lucky to have each other. Now, eat, because I’ll be able to have sex in about a week and I hate skinny boys.”

  He picked up his fork and winked at her and before putting a bite in his mouth he said, “Whatever you say, Mrs. Robinson.” She popped him on the back of the head, but she was smiling. He wasn’t sure sometimes what he’d done to deserve her, but he knew for sure that as long as he drew breath, no one would ever hurt her again…or their kids. He was going to do what his mother never did, protect and nurture his family. That included his sister, and both of his brothers, if he ever got to see either of them again.

  18

  The next morning Chance sat in a courtroom in St. Mary’s Parish with Sharon on one side of him, and Poppy on the other. His sister kept scanning the galley, and he knew she was waiting and hoping to see Bubba. He was too, but once they had brought Marlene in, dressed in an orange jumpsuit and wearing shackles, and the judge took the bench, he’d given up on the hope they’d get to see him. The judge got started right away, reading off the charges against Marlene:

  “Marlene Little, the state of Louisiana has charged you with violation of penal code RS 14:79.1, criminal abandonment of a child, penal code, RS 14:93.2.1, child desertion, and penal code RS 14:286, sale of a minor child. These are all felony counts. How do you plead?” Marlene’s court appointed attorney stood up and said:

  “Not guilty, your honor.”

  “Do we want to talk about bail today?” the judge asked.

  “Your honor,” the prosecutor said, standing up. “The people request remand without bail. The defendant is a flight risk. She was trying to leave the state just prior to her arrest.”

  “Your honor,” the defense attorney said, “my client is a mother and a wife. She has ties to her community…”

  “Her husband has already petitioned the court for a divorce, as well as full custody of their minor child, your honor. I have the department of social services standing by and willing to submit to the fact that she wouldn’t be allowed physical custody of that child while these charges are pending.” Marlene let out a loud, dramatic sob and Chance saw his sister roll her eyes. He hadn’t spoken to Charles since that day they’d held them all hostage in their home, but he was glad to see the man seemed to have grown a pair since then and was looking out for his son.

  “Your honor…” the defense began. The judge held up his hand and said:

  “The defendant will be held on a million-dollar bond, she’s ordered to give up her passport if she has one, and because the money held in her name at First National Bank is in question here regarding this case, those funds will be frozen.”

  “But, your honor…” The judge slammed his gavel and said:

  “Next on the docket.” The defense attorney helped Marlene to her feet. She was loudly sobbing and when she turned to allow the bailiffs to reattach her handcuffs, she made eye contact with Chance, and the hate that he saw there sent a chill down his spine. He’d spent his entire life when he was growing up wanting her to love him. Then he’d spent his adult life trying to forget her. Now as he looked at her, he realized that although he’d never be able to forget, and especially not forgive…he wasn’t going to let her take any more of his life from him. It was going to take him some time, but from that moment forward he promised himself that he was going to work on forgiving himself.

  He stood up and hugged Sharon, and then he turned and hugged Poppy. They had a meeting with one of the detectives in an hour to finally hear the rest of the story now that Marlene had been arraigned. The Bissets would be arraigned that afternoon as well, but Chance doubted he’d stick around for that one. Hopefully, it would go as well as his mother’s had.

  He and Sharon followed Poppy out the door of the courtroom. As soon as Poppy exited, she squealed, and the door nearly hit Chance in the face as she took off running. He pushed it back open in time to see her nearly knock Bubba over. He was dressed in a suit and tie and there was a woman with him wearing a lanyard, probably a social worker. Chance could see his face over her shoulder again, and this time he was smiling. Chance smiled at him and when Poppy finally let him go, he hugged his brother himself, tightly, and he understood why Poppy had such a hard time letting go.

  Chance and Poppy were asked by the social worker to meet with the two of them and the family law judge. Poppy had written a letter, and Chance had signed it as well, both of them telling the courts that they would be willing and able to take custody of their brother. Chance knew that thanks to his arrests here and there for assault, chances would be slim they would give custody to him, but Poppy had a good job and surprisingly, due to her own issues with rage, a clean record.

  They met in the family law chambers and Poppy sat so close to Bubba that their little brother almost looked like he couldn’t breathe. But he kept the smile on his face and didn’t pull away the hand his sister was gripping. The judge asked a few basic questions and then he looked at Bubba and said, “Billy Ray Le Blanc, I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. I understand that your mother took you from your group home after your father’s death, and you were told by her not long after that your siblings had been killed in a car accident?” Bubba lost the smile, nodded, and said:

  “Yes sir.”

  “And how did you come to live with the Bissets?”

  “She said she didn’t have money to take care of me since my father was dead. She said they were nice people, and they would take care of me.” Chance heard his brother’s voice crack and his heart ached. “She came and visited me a few times after she left me there, but every time she came she would say she still didn’t have a job, or a place, and she couldn’t take me.”

  “Did you want to go with her?”

  Bubba cleared his throat and for a few seconds he stared down at the table. It looked like he had to force his head up, but finally he looked the judge in the eyes again and said, “No, sir. She was never a very good mother.” His brother looked like he felt guilty for saying that and again, Chance ached to punch his own mother in the face. “Marshall and Joan…they were good to me. Joan got depressed sometimes and she’d be really sad…but she was never mean. They fed me and bought me nice clothes. I even got a car for my birthday.”

  “Mr. Le Blanc, you realize that Marshall and Joan Bisset are accused of paying money to your mother so that you would come and live with them?”

  “Yes, sir. Joan never talked about their son, but Marshall told me that he died, and he looked a lot like me. He said my mother and Joan met when I was only eight years old and Joa
n hadn’t stopped talking about me since. When my dad, and then my brother and sister…well, you know, she said they died. When that happened, Marshall said my mother called Joan and asked if I could stay with them until she got back on her feet. They never told me they paid her money...” His voice lowered to almost a whisper then and he said, “...but I wasn’t surprised.” Chance looked at Poppy. Tears were rolling down her face. He reached under the table and took her hand and squeezed it. She squeezed his back as the judge went on to say:

  “You’ve had a physical, and mental health exam. You seem to be a healthy, normal sixteen-year-old boy. So, what we have to do at this point is decide where you’ll live. I have a letter signed by both of your siblings, offering to take you in.” He looked at Chance and said, “Mr. Le Blanc, you belong to a motorcycle club?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And what do you do for a living?”

  “Security, sir.”

  “For?”

  Chance swallowed the lump in his throat. He loved his club and his job, but he hated himself at that moment, because he knew what he did and for who would be the reason he couldn’t legally take care of his brother. “The Jokers MC and Babineaux Crawfish Inc.”

  The judge’s face was neutral as he looked back down at the paperwork in front of him. When he looked up, he was looking at Poppy. “Miss Le Blanc, who do you work for?”

  “I’m an actress,” she said. “And a model. I work for an agency in Irvine, it’s called Dream Works Model and Talent Agency.”

  “And you live in an apartment?”

  “Yes sir. It’s a three-bedroom apartment in a security building.”

  He looked at Bubba then and said, “The state of Louisiana cannot grant custody of you to your brother.” He looked at Chance and back at Bubba and said, “That’s not to say I’m discouraging a relationship. The three of you seem close, and my wish would be that that will continue into the future. But if you’re willing, Mr. Le Blanc, we can transfer your case to California, and you can reside with your sister under temporary custody for now, and the courts in California can review the case and decide permanent custody.”