Outcast (Southern Rebels MC Book 2)

by Kristin Coley

  I planted my boot against Rob’s face, making sure he couldn’t see me as I leaned down. “Who is your supplier?”

  “Dunno nothing,” he muttered, cradling his side. “Fucking crazy. Call an ambulance.”

  “You’re a bit of a whiny baby, aren’t you?” I pressed harder, hearing a crunch. “Now, who is your supplier?”

  “Who wants to know?” He managed to croak and I glanced up at the sky, praying for patience and inspiration. Cord caught my eye, his expression furious and his stance one of a warrior.

  I smiled, “Xena, warrior princess.” I punched him in the side where his hand was and he cried out in pain. “Now, who is your supplier?”

  “Viper,” he mumbled before passing out.

  “Viper who?” I muttered in frustration, standing up. “That fucking useless.”

  “No,” Cord murmured staring sightlessly at the wall. “Not a who, a what.”

  “You know what he’s talking about?” I questioned, watching him carefully.

  “Yeah,” he finally said, walking off. “I know exactly what he’s talking about?”

  I hurried after him, pulling out my trusty flip phone and dialing the number by rote. “Hello?” I was so startled by him actually answering, I almost dropped the phone. “Alley behind the barber shop. Send an ambulance,” I muttered rapidly and Cord turned.

  “Who are you talking too?” He asked me and I heard a faint “Wait,” before I flipped the phone shut.

  “911,” I replied, jerking my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m sure that will pass for a beating by crowbar.”

  He stared at me for a long second and I motioned for him to move. “You’re not the fastest and we need to go.”

  “Viper,” he stated. “It’s the name of a motorcycle club.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cord

  I set the plate on the counter, staring at it for the longest time as I sorted through everything that had happened in the last two hours. She’d stopped me from killing Rob and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

  “You’re back,” I wasn’t surprised to hear Creed’s voice and turned to face him. He pointed at the plate. “Sloan wondered if you were going to bring that back. I told her you probably dumped the whole thing in the trash when you walked out the door.”

  “She check the trash can?” I asked, amused in spite of myself.

  “Yup.”

  “Tori ate it. Said to tell Sloan thank you.”

  “I’ll pass it along,” Creed said easily. “What’s that?” He’d seen the walking stick and went over to pick it up. “This is bad ass. It’s got our insignia and everything.”

  “Tori,” I said simply, crossing my arms as I propped my hip against the counter. “It’s on loan. Belonged to Jean’s husband.”

  “Ah, that’s where I’ve seen it, at the tattoo shop.” He admired the artwork a little longer. “Who painted it?”

  “Tori,” I answered. “I almost beat Rob to death with it tonight.” Creed’s head came up and he pinned me with a sharp stare.

  “You didn’t, though, right?”

  “No, Tori intervened.”

  “Tori seems to be doing a lot lately,” Creed said carefully, setting the walking stick back. “I get that she’s helping the club –”

  “Save it,” I interrupted. “Spare me the lecture and trust that I’m not stupid enough to hook up with another addict.”

  Creed ran a hand over his face. “That’s not what I meant,” he started to say, stopping when he saw my face. “Why Rob? Why now?” He waved his arm. “You didn’t see fit to punish him ten years ago.”

  “He’s dealing. Not only that I think he’s responsible for the rumors about the Rebels taking bribes.”

  “Those are some big leaps, brother.”

  “We were supposed to meet Felisha’s dealer tonight behind the barber shop,” I paused when something flickered across Creed’s face. “What is it?”

  “Ronnie owns the barber shop now. The club and Clutch financed it. It’s a girl salon now.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck. “Clutch was there when we got there. Made a few threats to Rob.”

  “Yeah, I’m not surprised. About a year ago, Clutch comes across Rob hitting Ronnie. Clutch goes after him, Ronnie defends Rob. There’s been bad blood ever since,” Creed explained, staring at my drawn expression. “Ronnie’s good at hiding the bruises. Rob isn’t club.”

  “I should have killed him,” I muttered under my breath and Creed smiled ruefully.

  “No one would miss him.”

  I inhaled, looking at Creed. “He said the drugs are coming from Viper.”

  “Shiiiiit,” Creed cursed. “Monty’s in jail.”

  “Apparently, that hasn’t slowed them down.” I shook my head. “Why didn’t we suspect them?”

  “Monty and the Vipers have been a brother club for years. They kept pointing the finger at the Aces and we had no reason to doubt them. The Aces are –”

  “Gun runners, always have been, and I know we leave that shit alone, but what I want to know is why the Aces don’t have a problem with this,” I interjected, waving my hand. “The Aces are being blamed for some serious shit they haven’t done. How have they not retaliated?”

  Creed grimaced. “They have. Monty asked us to do a couple of runs with them. Protection against the Aces. We didn’t want to get involved, but we owed Monty. Deacon got killed on one of those runs. The Vipers blamed the Aces.”

  “Not the case?”

  “No,” Creed shook his head. “We found out Monty had ordered the beating and made it look like a racial thing from the Aces.”

  “What happened with the Aces?”

  “They shot up the club,” he replied, exhaling as he glanced at me. “With Sloan inside.” I sucked in a sharp breath, but Creed only shook his head. “She handled it like a champ. Shot back at them. Most of the guys were gone, doing a raid on the Aces as retribution.”

  “So Monty pitted us against them,” I stated and Creed nodded. “And its been Monty and the Vipers this whole time.”

  “It looks like,” he agreed.

  “We need to talk to the Aces then,” I declared and Creed stared at me in shock. “Look, they’re getting slandered by Monty. There’s a reason Monty was driving a wedge between us and the Aces and we need to find out why.”

  “I don’t know if Johnny will go for that,” he said slowly. “There are years of bad blood between us.”

  “We need allies.”

  “This isn’t war,” Creed declared, shaking his head.

  “Isn’t it?” I asked, grabbing my walking stick as I stalked past him. “Like it or not, Monty declared war when he betrayed the club and came into Friendly selling fucking drugs.”

  “Monty’s in jail,” Creed protested.

  “But drugs are still on the street so his second is continuing the business or Monty’s running it from his cell. Either way, it stops now.”

  “What do you plan to do?” Creed called after me.

  “Figure out how he’s doing it.”

  ***

  I grabbed my keys and hesitated for a second before picking up the walking stick Tori had given me. Lent me, I corrected myself internally, the curved wood smooth under my hand. I knew I’d have to talk to her eventually, explain about the Vipers and Monty, but I had a stop to make first.

  It struck me every time I came, how tiny the grave was, almost impossibly small, and I wondered for the millionth time what she would have been like.

  “Baby girl, I’m sorry,” I shook my head, staring at the simple statement carved into stone. “You are loved. That wasn’t a mistake. Every day, I remember you and love you. Nothing will ever change that,” I promised her. I closed my eyes, my jaw working as I remembered seeing her for the first time, wrapped in blankets, and looking completely perfect. She’d resembled a doll, and my teeth clenched, remembering she’d been equally as lifeless.

  They’d wanted me to hold her so I could accept she was gone.
I’d refused. I hadn’t needed to hold her to know my child was dead. She’d been lost to an addiction that wasn’t even her own.

  “Take care of her, Dad,” I whispered, grateful Creed had buried her with him. I wiped my mouth. “I wish you were here. I wish both of you were here.”

  I leaned on the walking stick, taking some of the pressure off my leg as I started back to the Blazer. I took a shortcut through the grass, my attention caught by someone crouching in front of a grave. The way their head tilted pulled me closer and I recognized Tori.

  Curiosity drew me to her even as sanity told me to leave her alone. I didn’t need Creed’s warning to know every minute I spent in her presence threatened my peace of mind. She was a reminder of everything I’d lost, everything I’d gone through, and spending time with her had become a twisted form of punishment.

  It wasn’t healthy.

  I understood that, but at the same time I continued to move closer, needing to understand why, why Ashley had done it. What lure did the addiction have that would make a woman risk her own child’s life? Some part of me thought Tori could give me the answer.

  I came up behind her, but she didn’t move. My gaze drifted to the headstone, and my heart pounded as I read it.

  “What the hell?” My gaze raked over her as she spun around, seeming startled to see me standing there. “Is this a joke?” I stared at her, pretending it wasn’t disappointment swirling through me. “Tori? Is that even your name?”

  “Wait, Cord. You misunderstand. I didn’t steal –”

  “You didn’t steal someone’s identity? Hmm? Come to my town and play vigilante? Prey on some poor girl’s name?”

  “No! I swear,” she clenched her hands into fists. “Let me explain, Cord.”

  “No, I don’t think so, whoever the hell you are. I didn’t trust you to start with and I sure as hell ain’t about to believe whatever you say next.”

  “Cord,” she shouted as I walked away and I tossed the walking stick on the ground, as the name on the gravestone engraved on my mind as firmly as it had been etched into the stone.

  Victoria Renee Malcom.

  ***

  “What are you doing here?” I stood outside the door of the garage as Clutch came over, wiping his hands on a rag. “You want to come inside?”

  “I was at the cemetery,” I said and he exhaled, nodding his head.

  “I think you should come inside,” he said again, quieter this time.

  “I go every morning,” I told him, not sure why I was explaining this. “I stand over her grave. I tell her I love her.” Clutch just stood there listening to me. “I ask Dad to keep watch over her.” I looked up at the sky. “Like it matters.”

  “It matters,” Clutch answered, grasping my shoulder. “I promise, it matters.”

  “But I don’t go to her grave,” I continued, rolling my tongue over my teeth, knowing he would understand. “I can’t bring myself.” I shook my head. “She…she took something from me that I can never get back.” I met his eyes, seeing understanding reflected in them as I said, “She took my daughter.”

  He didn’t say anything, as I admitted what I’d been trying to deny for years. She’d stolen my daughter away from me before I’d ever had a chance to meet her.

  “I want to hate her but I can’t. I try to forgive her, but I can’t. Everywhere I turn here there are memories. A past I can’t escape.” I lifted my hand. “But the truth is, I couldn’t escape it when I left either.”

  “The past has a way of following us,” Clutch replied. “Sometimes facing it is the only way to make peace with it.”

  “What you do when the one you need to face is dead?”

  “Let her go.”

  “Easier said than done.” I glanced at him. “I just want to know why? Why she did it? What did she think would happen to our baby?”

  “I doubt she was thinking at all about the baby,” Clutch muttered angrily. “Ashley never thought about consequences. She was spoiled.” He spit on the ground. “I know I’m not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but Ashley,” he shook his head, “She didn’t think of anyone but herself.”

  “Why did you go to the house that day?” I asked and his gaze shifted.

  “What brought this on?” He asked in a poor attempt at evasion.

  “She was there. At the cemetery.”

  Clutch gave me a questioning glance. “Who was there?”

  “Tori,” I replied, then made a scoffing noise. “I don’t even know her name.” I laughed bitterly. “She lied.” I looked at him. “Of course she lied. I don’t know why I expected anything else.”

  “So wait, Tori isn’t Tori?” Clutch asked in confusion. I shook my head. “Then who is she?”

  “How the hell should I know? She’s an addict. That’s what she is, that’s who she is, and that’s all she’ll ever be,” I declared, breathing heavily. “I knew that…so why did I think…. That maybe…”

  “That what, Cord?”

  “I don’t know, but it wasn’t this,” I mumbled, not even sure what I was trying to say.

  Clutch let out a sigh. “Ronnie sent me over to the house that day. She never told me why, but I could guess after I found Ashely.”

  “God, I should have killed that son of a bitch last night,” I growled, leaning against the wall.

  “Who?”

  “Rob.”

  “Rob? I mean besides the obvious, what does he have to do with this conversation?”

  “He was the one who got Ashley hooked,” I explained. “And if it was Ronnie who sent you over the day Ashley died, then –”

  “Then Ronnie knew,” Clutch concluded. “She must have known he supplied Ashley with the drugs….”

  “That killed her,” I finished.

  “Oh my God,” he muttered, leaning against the wall next to me. “Man, I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that I feel your pain,” Clutch answered. “That I wish I’d gotten there sooner.”

  I heard the remorse in his voice and bumped his shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself.”

  “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”

  “Maybe,” I grumbled. “Doesn’t change the fact that I lived with her. That I should have seen the truth staring me in the face.”

  “I’ll give her that much. She was damn good at hiding her habit.” He gave me a sideways glance. “We can’t go back. We can’t change the past.”

  “But we can punish it,” I retorted, anger surging though me once again at Tori’s lies. “I should have got her real name.”

  “Who? Tori?”

  “That’s not her name,” I muttered. “What else did she lie about?”

  “You need to be careful,” Clutch warned and I sent him questioning glance. “I get she lied to you, but why are you so upset about it?” He ducked his head toward me. “Do you care about her?”

  “No,” I replied instantly, offended at the idea. “She’s an addict. Of course I don’t care. What I care about is what part she’s playing in all of this.”

  “You sure that’s it?” Clutch asked doubtfully. “She’s got you tied up in knots.”

  “And you’re one to talk. I heard you threaten Rob last night,” I deflected and he snapped his mouth shut. “You still chasing the unattainable Ronnie Brown?”

  “Fuck you,” he muttered and the silence between us grew taut. He shook his head finally. “Still don’t know why I’m friends with your dumb ass.”

  “Same reason I’m friends with your stupid ass.” We traded a glance. “No one else will have us,” we stated in unison.

  “What happened with Rob last night?” Clutch questioned and I shrugged lightly.

  “I almost beat him to death with my walking stick. Tori stopped me, and I’m starting to question her motives for that now. Then Rob said the Vipers are supplying the drugs.”

  “Monty’s crew?”

  “Yup,” I replied and Clutch shook his head.


  “Man, I knew Monty gave the drugs to Nina, but we really thought they were coming from the Aces.”

  “I think that was Monty’s plan, a way to deflect attention from him and what he was doing.”

  “You told Johnny?”

  “I was on my way,” I replied, nodding to the club. “He’s not going to like it or what I think we should do.”

  “When do you and Johnny ever agree?” Clutch asked rhetorically, tossing his rag down. “Let’s go get it over with.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tori

  I stared after Cord’s retreating back, still stunned by what just happened. I closed my eyes, sighing, as I turned back to the headstone. My name stared back at me, the sight no less startling even after months of seeing it.

  I couldn’t really blame Cord for believing I’d stolen some poor girl’s identity. The truth would be practically incomprehensible to a man like him, one whose family remained loyal despite everything.

  I walked over to the walking stick he’d tossed away, picking it up and brushing it off carefully. He’d said everything he needed with that single action. I glanced back at the empty grave, wishing for the first time that I was a different person, one who had made better choices.

  ***

  “Wow, you look even grumpier than the first time I saw you,” Norah mentioned as I stomped into the dressing room. “I didn’t actually think that was possible.”

  “I’m here. I’m required to wear boy shorts that crawl up my ass while serving drinks to men who want to grope said ass, and if I want tips, which is the only way I make money, I have to let them grope my ass instead of breaking their fucking arms off.”

  “Are you sure this is the job for you?”

  I flashed her a dark look.

  “So that’s a no.” She studied me and I shifted uncomfortably. “So, why are you here?”

  I eyed her, then went around the room, checking to make sure no one was in the dressing room with us. “If I tell you, can you keep it a secret?”

  “Is it illegal because I can’t really make that kind of blanket promise –” she rattled on and I shook my head, stopping her.