Heathens

by Eliza Marsh

  And oh, was he trying.

  But coming down from a high in a police station after a very rough night had been less than pleasant. Dealing with the discomfort of his injuries and an irritated group of bikers without the aid of drugs was also proving to be a challenge.

  Luke had promised him that going cold turkey would be the most effective way to get clean, but Dean wasn’t sure he could just cut it out all at once. Maybe he could wean himself off on his own, let the guys think he’d kicked it right away.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the first arrival of the day’s shift, which just so happened to be one of the more disgruntled members of the club. Despite his usually easy-going nature, Ian had taken a major offense to Dean’s complete disregard for the day to day responsibilities he was supposed to handle. It was an understandable feeling, and Dean could only blame himself for allowing his addiction to affect his work ethic.

  Ian stopped just shy of entering the garage, seeing Dean was the sole occupant of the room. “Can’t remember you ever being the first one in,” he said carefully, wandering to the back counter to see what was on the books for the day.

  Dean kept his head down, continuing his work. “Haven’t been pulling my weight around here lately. Just trying to make up for missed time.” It was his way of acknowledging Ian’s past complaints, the closest thing to an apology the guy was likely to get.

  Nodding his head, Ian took in the cleaner surroundings with a suspicious expression. “Looks good in here,” he said, to which Dean merely grunted in response. “Okay, well, let me know if you need a hand with that beast, looks like a fun one.” He waved the chart in his hand to indicate that he had looked over the order for the car the other biker was currently working on.

  “Think the engine is gonna need to be taken out, might need some help with that.” Dean’s eyes stayed trained on his fidgeting hands, trying to extend an acceptable olive branch in the form of asking for assistance.

  So that was how the rest of the crew found them as they filtered in one by one, all sending curious glances at the pair as they worked together in comfortable silence. The mood in the garage was notably lighter all morning, an undiscussed elephant in the room now gone. At least it was until Luke got a call just before noon that sent them into a flurry of activity.

  “That was my contact at the station,” he said as he hung up the call and shoved his phone back in his pocket. “A couple of the Saints just got arrested for car theft.”

  “But that’s good, right?” Taco asked hesitantly, not understanding Luke’s concern. “Less competition with them behind bars.”

  “Unless the feds cut them a deal for information on us,” TJ replied quietly, his eyes never leaving the charter president.

  “Especially if they think we have something to do with them getting arrested in the first place.” Luke turned his gaze to Dean. “Did you see anybody at the station when you were there? Anybody tailing you?”

  Dean’s expression was confused, seemingly missing a piece of information. “Why would they be tailing me?”

  It was Ian’s turn to pitch in as he crossed his arms over his chest. “They’ve been showing up across the street here more and more. And they were outside the bar the other night. Not a stretch to think they’re now tailing you, especially after you stabbed one of their guys.”

  “And they wouldn’t know what information you may have traded on them to avoid being charged for assault.” Luke raised his eyebrows, watching as he seemed to connect the dots rapidly.

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Even if they didn't think that, the feds would make sure they are now,” TJ said, looking grim as he watched the faces of the other three. “They love to pitch a good story. I’m sure they’re spinning some tale about how much Dean told them, how they knew about the car theft because of us.”

  “This could blowback hard,” Luke replied. “We need to be ready for retaliation.”

  Taco shuffled his feet, nerves starting to set in as he realized how serious the situation was. “Are we sure they’re gonna come after us?”

  “No, but I’d rather be prepared if they do. We can handle them, but I don’t want to get blindsided all of a sudden if they decide to start trouble over this. TJ, put a call into the ‘Bama charter, have them on alert in case we need some extra muscle.”

  “You wanna bring the backwoods hillbillies into the mix?” Dean asked with a raised brow, his expression doubtful. “Those hotheads make me look like a zen master.”

  This earned a chuckle from the group, but Luke shook his head with a grimace nonetheless. “Let’s hope nothing happens. But if shit goes down, we’re gonna need those hotheads to do what they do best.”

  “What’s that?” Taco asked curiously, having never met anyone from the Alabama charter.

  Another round of laughter was followed by TJ grabbing the young biker by the shoulders and shaking him roughly. “They’re the Wild Boys, Taco. They fuck shit up!”

  37

  Jackie exited the diner with a tired sigh, squinting her eyes as the bright afternoon sun glared down on her. She frowned as she made out a figure leaning against the side of her SUV, a cigarette dangling carelessly from his fingers. Approaching cautiously, she cocked her head as she finally recognized the blonde man.

  “Murphy?” she asked in confusion, closing the distance between them. His head popped up, and he smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his bright blue eyes. “What are you doing here? Has something happened?”

  “Hey, doll. Nah, everything is fine.” He pushed himself off of the car, standing to his full height. “Just have a field trip for us.”

  Jackie stared at him, a puzzled look on her face, as they weren’t exactly the type of friends that hung out and did activities. “What are you talking about? I have to go get Ollie.”

  Pulling the car keys gently from her hand, he opened the passenger door and gestured for her to get in. “Charlotte is fine with him, and we won’t be long, promise. Get in.”

  She studied his face, immediately noticing the stress and worry laced into his features. Something was definitely going on, and she wasn’t going to be kept in the dark anymore, club business or not. “Murphy, tell me what’s happened. Is everyone okay?”

  He sighed in frustration, bracing his hands tightly against the car door. “Do you trust me?” he asked sternly, his eyes full of emotion as he stared at her.

  “Of course,” she replied without hesitation, knowing that as Dean’s best friend, he would always do his best to look out for her.

  “Then please get in the damn car. I’ll explain things on the way.”

  With one last glance, she relented and began to climb into the Range Rover. “On the way to where?” she asked, only to be cut off as he shut the door. Huffing, she glared at him through the windshield as he jogged around the front of the car and got into the driver’s seat. “On the way to where?” she asked again, this time with a little more force as he started the car and peeled out of the diner parking lot. Jackie gripped the door in surprise, sending a stern look to her chauffeur. “Murphy!”

  “We’re going to the shooting range,” he replied casually as if that were a common occurrence.

  “What? Why would we go there?” she asked in bewilderment, her eyes growing large at the new information.

  Murphy sighed, his grip tightening around the steering wheel. After the news about the Dead Saints' arrest earlier that morning, he thought it best that she be prepared for anything that might happen. He just wasn’t exactly sure how to tell her about everything without completely freaking her out. “Well, there’s nothing to worry about-”

  “Clearly there is,” she exclaimed loudly, causing him to wince. “Since we’re heading to a shooting range. Which I’m assuming means you feel like I need to know how to shoot.”

  Feeling heavy under her expectant gaze, he sat in silence for a few minutes. He wasn’t exactly an expert at being sympathetic and understanding about th
ings like this. To a former marine like himself, having a gun and knowing how to use it was entirely practical, whether you were involved in a biker club or not. So how could he explain the necessary precaution to her without making her want to pack up and head to Canada?

  “Look,” he said plainly, taking a left at the traffic light as the large sign for the shooting range came into view. “I don’t know how much Dean has told you.”

  “Not much,” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance. “He hasn’t exactly been himself lately.”

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed. He should be the one doing this anyway. But since he’s currently busy avoiding his problems, I feel like I need to take up the mantle to make sure you know how to protect yourself.” He took a hard right into the parking lot and skidded to a halt near the front door of the building, earning a glare from the car’s owner. He turned his head to look at her, more serious than she had ever seen him. “I’m not saying you’re in danger. But our line of work isn’t exactly safe, and it seems that we’ve managed to find ourselves in the middle of a territory war.” Her eyes grew as she listened intently, but she didn’t dare interrupt him. “Now, it’s not a personal beef, so there’s no reason that they would go after anyone directly, especially not someone’s family. But…” He trailed off, carefully gauging her reaction. “I know I’d feel better if you were well protected.”

  Jackie’s jaw dropped open slightly as she searched for something to say. She mentally cursed herself for not escaping this life when she had the chance, but then reminded herself that she couldn’t just leave the man she loved. Snapping her mouth shut, she let out a large breath and squared her shoulders. “Fine,” she replied, staring at him determinedly. “Teach me how to shoot.”

  His grin at that moment should have been more than enough warning for Jackie to realize just how much Murphy loved his guns. He had hauled a large case out of the back of her car and happily tugged her into the building, where he greeted several people by name as he bypassed the front desk. Jackie had little time to take in her surroundings, getting only glimpses of shelves full of ammo and explosive targets for purchase. Within a few seconds, they were through the main room and into a small locker room, where Murphy stopped abruptly to open the case. Pulling out two sets of hearing protection, he handed her a pair with a smirk.

  “You’re gonna want these,” was all he said before shoving his on and heading towards the end of the room to a steel door.

  With an eye roll, she popped them over her ears and hurried after him. Bright fluorescent light greeted her as she followed Murphy through the door into the range, where the sound of muffled gunshots momentarily startled her as she forgot where she was. A long wooden structure divided into small cubicles ran the length of the room, separating the shooters from the active firing zone.

  Murphy was quick to set up near the end of the mostly-vacant room, pulling several guns out of the case he had placed on a bench. “I wasn’t really sure what Dean kept around the apartment, so I brought some options.”

  “How thoughtful,” she replied loudly, trying to make herself heard over the ear protection.

  He set her up in a cubby with a small handgun, briefly explaining the basics of how a gun works and what to do with it. Moving a step behind her to give her room, he pointed to the paper bullseye hanging from the ceiling a few paces away. “Go get ‘em, princess.”

  Jackie raised the gun slowly, gripping it tightly in both hands. It wasn’t the first time she’d shot a gun, having done it a few times as a teenager back home in Chicago for fun. There seemed to be so much more at stake here, though, like her life was someday going to depend on this lesson. Her hands began to shake, the weight of the gun becoming heavy.

  “You have to stop thinking,” Murphy said, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Jackie aim. “Let it be instinctual. Somebody is comin' at you, wants to hurt you, hurt Ollie. You do what you have to do to stop them.”

  She squinted one eye closed, zeroing in on the target situated in front of her.

  “Aim for the chest. It's the biggest part of the body and, therefore, hardest to miss. Square your shoulders, breathe out, squeeze the trigger.”

  The loud pop reverberated through her almost as much as the recoil, sending her back a few steps as she lowered the gun. “Woah,” she whispered, the adrenaline coursing through her at the feeling.

  Murphy gave a loud shout behind her, clapping her on the shoulder. “Hey, you managed to hit the paper. That’s a start!”

  She squinted down the lane, frowning as she took in where her bullet had ended up. “I didn’t even hit the actual target, Murph.”

  “Close enough, babe. For the first shot, you’re doing great.”

  They spent the next half hour going through multiple guns and boxes of ammunition as she tried to get the hang of handling a weapon. Despite Murphy’s best attempts to teach her, Jackie never managed to get a headshot but was quite proud to be able to hit center mass with reasonable confidence. When her ears were finally ringing from the noise, she called it quits. They pulled their hearing protection off after confirming that they were the only ones in the room and sat down on a bench.

  “Think I’m getting the hang of it,” she said with a smile. “Thanks for bringing me out here.”

  “Anytime. I come out here at least once a month, so you’re welcome to tag along if you want more practice.”

  “Think you could teach me some self-defense?” Murphy raised his brows at the question, surprised she would take an interest in something like that. “Nothing crazy, of course, maybe just some basics in case I don’t have a gun.”

  “I feel like this is just an excuse for you to hit me, but yeah, we can work on that sometime. I mean, the easiest thing you can do to defend yourself is to knee him in the balls.” Murphy grinned as he shrugged his shoulders. “Sucker'll go down hard. And if he's too close for you to get your leg up, claw his eyes out. When he steps back, then knee him in the balls.”

  Jackie smiled at him, hardly taking him seriously. “So that's it? Eight years in the Marine Corps and all you've got for me is 'knee him in the balls?'”

  “Trust me, princess. That's all you need.”

  38

  “So wait, Murphy took you shooting?”

  Jackie had arrived at Charlotte’s over an hour late, giving a quick apology for the time before launching into the story of her afternoon.

  “Yep, said there was trouble with another MC, but he wouldn’t give me any details. What has Elijah told you?”

  Charlotte leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed her arms over her chest as she thought over their past conversations. “Not a whole lot, of course. But he did mention yesterday that some guys got arrested and the club thought it might blowback on them. Maybe that’s what has Murphy all in a tizzy.”

  “Well, that’s just great.” Jackie huffed and threw herself down into a chair at the table. “Do you ever just want to take Logan and run away in the middle of the night?”

  “Oh girl, regularly. I didn’t like it when Elijah started working at the garage, and I sure as hell didn’t like it when he decided to become a prospect.”

  Furrowing her brows at the pause, Jackie looked at the older woman expectantly. “But…?”

  “But I’m still here for the same reasons you’re still here. Because they’re decent guys and Elijah is a great husband to me and a great father to our child. Can’t say that as confidently about Dean, but I suppose he’s learning.”

  Jackie snorted in response, absently fidgeting with the ends of her hair. “He’s not learning anything. He’s been hiding out at the clubhouse since our fight, haven’t seen him in three days.” Various sources had reassured her that he was making strides to get clean, but with no communication from him, she couldn’t be sure it was true.

  The dark-skinned woman narrowed her eyes, her hands flying to her hips. “You’re joking?” she yelled in frustration. “What is it with that boy? I swear to God-”r />
  “I know, I know.”

  “You need to go see him right now.” Charlotte crossed her arms once again, this time giving Jackie the same mom look she gave to her son. “You give him one last chance, and if he doesn’t own up to his shit, you’re done. You are a strong, independent woman. You don’t need to be putting up with this.”

  “Yeah, I should go right now.”

  “Yeah, you should.”

  Jackie nodded, standing abruptly from the wooden chair. “I think I will. Wait.” She paused, her expression nervous. “What do I actually say to him?”

  “You tell him to stop being a little bitch and that he needs to kick the drugs or else you’re leaving him and taking Ollie with you.”

  “Right, I’m gonna do it. Right now.”

  And that was how she found herself, along with Oliver, on the Red Kings’ property, where Dean had been camping out since their fight. Jackie had given him enough space, enough time, to figure out what he wanted to do. It was time for him to decide.

  Not seeing anyone in the garage this late in the afternoon, she marched into the clubhouse with a purpose. The door popped shut behind her as she paused to adjust Oliver’s carrier in her hands and scan the large room for her target. Ian, Taco, and Murphy all greeted her from around the nearby pool table, while Elijah was chatting quietly with Mack at the bar. Dean, however, was nowhere to be found. Jackie huffed and headed over to the bar, where she sat the carrier down gently on the countertop.

  “Where is he?” she asked Mack defiantly, leveling him with a glare as he smirked at her from behind the bar.

  “Was wondering when you were gonna show up.” He diverted his attention to the baby, ignoring her momentarily. “Hey, little man, how you doin’?” Rubbing one of his large fingers on Oliver’s chubby cheek, Mack looked back up. “Down the hall, second door on the right.”