by Deja Voss
What could I have possibly said that set him off?
Fuck that.
If this man supposedly cares about me so much, why do I even have to watch what I say to begin with?
“Second of all, love, look at how hard it is for you to even clear off a table. Maybe he is just worried about you getting your hopes up. You weren’t even eating solid foods until today. Maybe he just doesn’t want you to think you have to push yourself.”
“You heard the man,” I say. “He doesn’t want us to put fucking words in his mouth, but he’s too fucking stubborn to tell us what’s going on in his mind. I don’t like this side of him, Gin. Like I have to watch what I say or I’m going to set him off?”
“That’s really out of character for him,” she says. “He is under a lot of stress though, I mean, his dad’s getting out of prison soon and I know he’s not looking forward to dealing with him. Maybe hiding out here with you is the only thing that’s keeping him sane. Maybe you’re his escape from reality.”
“I’m clueless, Gin. I didn’t even know he had a father. What the hell am I doing here?”
I feel all sweaty and exhausted, like everything around me is spinning. I feel like the two of us made so much progress, that I came clean with him and all was trusted and forgiven, but at the end of the day, I have no idea who this man I care so much about really is. He’s rendered me helpless, and not just because of the physical condition I’m in, but because I gave him a piece of my heart. I don’t know what he’s going to do with it out there tonight, though.
Chapter Sixteen
Brass:
My father used to say that respect was the gateway to power.
He was well respected, too. The man had everything, the mansion, the yacht, the country club membership, the trophy wife, the reputation for being one of the best orthopedic surgeons in the state. Everyone respected my old man, and now he sits in a prison cell, completely powerless because at the end of the day, he lost control. He thought he could skate by with something as fickle as respect.
I learned the hard way control was the true gateway to power.
Control over myself, over every aspect of my life down to the food I put in my mouth and the words that come out of it.
Control over others, because I know when people look at me, they fear me. I know I live rent free in their head just because I’m big and tatted. I created this monster very purposely and painstakingly, and it’s because the day my father got locked up, I knew I had to get control back.
The one thing I’ve never been able to control is the future.
It’s the only thing that sets me off. It’s the only thing that makes me lose it all.
Not knowing what tomorrow is going to bring and always thinking something bad’s about to happen if I don’t get everything and everyone under control makes the beast want to break his chain.
Especially when it comes to seeing somebody I love getting hurt. I couldn’t stop my dad from murdering my mother, but I’ve learned a thing or two in the last twenty years.
I burn down the backroads in the darkness, pushing my bike faster than I should through the ruts and potholes. I don’t fucking care. I know this machine inside and out and I’m a man on a mission.
I wanted to slap the shit out of Rowdy for suggesting everything was going back to normal before we even had a plan of attack. As long as Floyd is walking the streets a free man, Jewel will never be safe. I couldn’t sit on my hands at that table and make nice, especially knowing what she told me in the bathroom.
I need to get this situation back under control.
Rowdy catches up with me about two miles away from Floyd’s compound. I don’t know if he’s here to help or if he’s going to try and stop me, so I just drive faster. I pull down the long dirt turnoff and park my bike far enough away that nobody will hear me coming. I take off running towards the house, but Rowdy is right behind me before I can get too far.
He’s a quick fucker if anything.
“What’s your problem?” he asks. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m ending this,” I growl. “You can either help me or get fucked.”
I walk through the high grass towards the light coming from the farmhouse.
“You can’t just go rogue, Brass. We want Floyd as bad as you do.”
“And you can’t put ideas in my woman’s head about going back to work and getting on with her life as long as the problem is still out there. It ain’t fair to her. I’m finishing this fucker tonight.”
He grabs my shoulder. “Your woman? You and Jewel are a thing?”
I nod. She might not like me too much right this second because of my outburst but it had to be done. I know when everything is revealed she’ll see I was just looking out for her. I’m doing this because the only way we’ll ever be able to come out of hiding will be if I take the power back and kill every motherfucker who put her in this situation to begin with no matter what my brothers say.
“Barney was a rat,” I growl. “He was rubbing elbows with these guys up til the day he killed himself. Dragged Jewel into it, too, even though she didn’t even know it.”
He took her fucking control away. Blinded her with his bullshit. Just like my old man did to my mom.
“You need to slow down, man,” he says as I take off running across the field. “We don’t have all the information yet. We’re going to work this out. Would’t it be easier if we had the rest of the club in on this? You don’t even know what you’re walking into.”
“I don’t have fucking time for that,” I growl. Somebody needs to hurt. Tonight.
“You must really fucking love this bitch,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lose it.”
“Go wait by your bike. I don’t need your fucking commentary.” Don’t need his commentary, don’t need his judgement, definitely don’t need him bringing Jewel into this. Knowing what these men took from my woman just makes me see red. I need a clear mind if I want to get control back.
“No can do, chief.” He pats me on the back and pulls his pistol out of his waistband. “If you’re going to do stupid shit in the name of love, I gotta witness it. I never thought this day would come.”
“Fuck off,” I grumble under my breath. Usually when I have to put my enforcer patch on, it’s out of hate, but this runs so much deeper. Tonight I’m doing this out of duty. Out of honor.
Maybe a little bit out of love if that’s what we’re calling it now.
We get to the front porch and a dog starts growling and barking.
“If you fucking shoot that dog, I’ll punt you out the window,” I whisper. I might be a monster but I’m not a complete asshole. He rolls his eyes at me, and I kick open the door with one swift strike of my boot.
A German Shepard mix lunges right at me, and I kneel down and hold my hand out, letting her sniff it. “I’m good,” I say, looking her right in the eye. She whines a little bit and lowers her tail between her legs, and Rowdy laughs.
“Of course you speak dog. I knew there was something not right about you.”
There’s a skinny motherfucker passed out in a dingy old recliner, the TV blasting some old recorded nazi propaganda. It turns my stomach knowing these losers sit around all day wallowing in hate, thinking they’re special or chosen when really they’re just a bunch of mouth breathers.
“Wake up chump,” I shout, pointing my pistol directly between his eyes.
“What the fuck?” he stammers, and it looks like he’s trying to figure out if he’s still asleep by the way he wipes at his eyes. He’s about to find out his worst nightmare is standing right before him.
He’s about to go to sleep permanently if he doesn’t start talking.
“Where’s Floyd?” I shout.
“Who?”
I click the safety off my pistol and his jaw drops.
“He’s upstairs. Please, don’t tell him I told you.”
“What a fucking pussy,” Rowdy says, punching him
square in the jaw, knocking him out cold. He follows me up the steps of the old farm house. My heart races harder every time one of the rickety old stairs creak under my footsteps. I might be strong and fast, I’m definitely not good at sneaking up on anybody.
There’s a long hallway lined with doorways at the top of the stairs, and I stop for a minute, listening for signs of life. Before I can take another step, a dark figure appears in one of the doorways. He’s wearing a green robe that hangs down to the floor, and has a hood pulled up over his head.
A twisted smirk forms on his lips as soon as he makes eye contact with me. I’ve never met the man in person in my life, only seen him on the news, but in person, he is surprisingly intimidating. He’s not big or even tall, but his eyes are nearly black, and he exudes this aura of control, even with a gun pointed straight at him.
“Well you caught me off guard, but I can’t say I’m surprised,” he says, pulling the door closed behind him. “Your father always said you were a persistent man.”
He paces two steps towards me, and my hands tremble as I grip my pistol. I don’t know why I’m afraid of him, I obviously have the upper hand, but the way he walks towards me with his hands in the air like he fears absolutely nothing is chilling.
“I think you have me mixed up with somebody else. And I’d probably stop where you are, Floyd. I’m not here to talk.”
“That’s a shame, Michael.” His laugh is downright evil. “I think if you sat down with me and heard what I have to offer, you might be willing to change your mind.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m nothing like that rat fucker Barney,” I growl. “And your time fucking with my club is up.”
He nods. “You father always said you were a mama’s boy. Now that whore is in your brain, making you all irrational. You would’ve thought after all this time you would’ve gotten past that.”
I grab him by the neck of his robe and slam him up against the wall. “You don’t know anything about me. Neither does he.” It takes a lot to make me lose control, but he’s right on the edge of bringing me to a black out rage.
His breath is hot on my face as I hold him pinned to the wall.
“My father would never associate with a man like you, anyway. You can pretend to know whatever you want, but it’s all just empty talk.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, son. Your father and I were quite close in prison. Places like that will do that to a man. Those with power rise to the top and make things happen no matter where they are. Freedom has nothing to do with your location. Some people walk around all day like a prisoner and they don’t even know it. People like your father and I, we don’t have that problem, even if we are behind bars.”
“Shut the fuck up, Floyd,” Rowdy says. “Nobody in this house is buying into your bullshit. You’re just trying to buy yourself some time, but the clock is ticking.”
“You’re just as much a slave as Jesse,” Floyd says, sneering right at him. “Both of you are ruled by a master who doesn’t care for you. You’ll never reach your full potential as long as you let the female species dictate your existence.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m starting to believe that he did in fact get to my father inside the jail. My dad never outright confessed to murdering my mother, and therefore, nobody ever had to hold him accountable for why he did it, but I had my own suspicion it was because he couldn’t handle how loved she was.
She was simply a nurse, he was a surgeon.
She was a philanthropist with her time and passion, he was the one writing massive checks to charity.
She was the woman who helped children and parents deal with cancer, loss, and life, while he was just Tonya’s husband, the guy who put new knees in aging athletes.
And he absolutely fucking hated it. Absolutely fucking hated her. And me, too, because he couldn’t look at me without seeing her.
“The female species is the only reason why we have a fucking existence, Floyd,” Rowdy says. “but I’m not gonna argue that with you. You were probably made in a test tube.”
Floyd laughs like that’s the funniest thing he ever heard in his life, and I swing back and punch him in the face. This man is clearly not right in the head. I almost feel a pang of guilt knowing how physically weak and powerless he is right in this moment. Almost.
The fact that he’s walking the streets, the fact that he has all these followers who hang on his every word; it’s fucking concerning. He’s a danger to everyone as long as he’s alive.
“I know you’re here to kill me, Michael. I had a premonition this day was going to come. I was hoping you’d give me some time first, though. The way you and your men came into my house and waged an attack, that was impressive stuff. You know you could lead my whole army one day if you wanted to.”
“You didn’t punch him hard enough, Brass,” Rowdy says with a chuckle. “He’s still going.”
“I don’t need you to fluff my ego,” I growl, clenching the neck of his robe tighter. “I know exactly what I’m capable of. I made myself this way. Not my father. Not my mother. Not my club. Nobody told me to come over here and kill you, not even Jewel. This is all me.”
I hold my gun up to his head.
“Prison will change you, Michael,” he says. “You better think long and hard about what you’re about to do. They might not find you right away. You might go off and live your blissful beautiful life and think all is well, but someday, master is going to strike you down.”
“There’s more people who want you dead than alive, Floyd,” I say. “And I have no master. You and my father, you’re the slaves. You’re the slaves to your own grandeur.”
I look over at my shoulder at Rowdy and he just shrugs. I don’t feel anything at all as I pull the trigger. I feel more guilt when I kill a fly. His blood splatters all over the wall and I drop him to the floor. He looks like nothing more than a pile of dirty laundry, his robe wrinkled up around his body.
I wasn’t going to let him talk anymore. I finally got to do what I wished I’d had the strength to do to my father all those years ago. I erased him from the earth. I cut off the head of the snake. I stopped the disease from spreading anymore.
“We better get out of here,” Rowdy says.
I follow him down the steps, and he puts a bullet between the eyes of the guy knocked out on the chair.
“Sorry, he got me all fired up. I needed to shoot something,” he says with a shrug.
We walk out the front door into the cool night air.
The only sound are the howling coyotes in the distance and it takes me back to that day I found Jewel out here. You’d think killing the man who put her in that position would make me feel better. You’d think I’d feel relieved.
“You good now? You gonna be able to function?” Rowdy asks as he mounts his bike.
I nod and shrug.
You’d think I’d feel anything at all. I’m trying, I really am, but the words he said only pushed me further inside myself. I feel number than I ever have before.
Chapter Seventeen
Jewel:
Gin is sprawled out on the checker print couch, snoring away. I have my feet kicked back in the old recliner. The only TV we get out here is whatever the antenna can pickup, and right now, that’s reruns of the old show Flipper. It reminds me of snow days when I was a kid, and I had to go to my neighbor’s house while my mom worked. She’d feed me grilled cheese sandwiches and plop me in front of the TV while she chain smoked and did her cross stitching.
The living room is completely dark except for the glow from the television set, but I’m wide awake. My sleep cycles are all fucked up from weeks of not knowing what time of day it is, and my mind is all fucked up from the way Brass just stormed out of here. Gin is really no help at all considering she’s been out cold for at least six episodes.
I’m not hungry or thirsty. I don’t have to go to the bathroom. I don’t want anything at all but answers, and as I hear the roar of exhaust pipes zooming down the driveway,
I feel both excitement and dread. I’ve seen firsthand what the guys in the MC do when they feel some type of way. I’ve seen it with Barney and I’ve seen it slinging drinks at the bar.
I never pegged Brass as that kind of guy, though. Never saw it with my own two eyes at least. Then again, he never was the kind of man who got himself tied down.
I don’t know what to expect, so I pull my blanket up to my chin and squint my eyes tight, pretending like I’m fast asleep. I listen for their motors shutting off, hear the key in the lock, and squint my eyes open just a peek as Rowdy appears in the living room. Brass just keeps walking, like he’s a man on a mission, and the bathroom door slams behind him.
“Come on, sweetie, let’s go,” I hear him say to Gin. She mumbles something in her sleep and soon she’s shuffling around the room, grabbing her stuff. I jump as I feel her touch on my forehead. She brushes my bangs out of my face.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, babe,” she whispers.
I want to beg her to stay here with me. I don’t know why, but facing Brass right now makes me nervous. Something happened, and although I want to trust him and think he was just out blowing off some steam, my heart isn’t ready to face the worst. I know I care about him a lot more than I was ready to admit, and thinking about him getting on top of some sweet butt doesn’t sit right with me.
Instead I just let out a fake snore, and soon the two of them are gone.
As time drags on, I worry about Brass in the other room. He’s been in the bathroom at least two episodes of Flipper, and I haven’t even heard the water run yet. I reach for my crutch and push my weary body up off the chair, balancing on my good arm as I hobble my way to the bathroom.
I go to knock on the door, but the lock must be busted, because it swings right open as soon as I put a little pressure on it. He’s standing there, gripping the sides of the sink, staring into the mirror. He looks somber and tired, like a man who saw way too much. I gasp as I notice the blood splatter up the front of his shirt and the dried blood on his hands.
