by Carolina Mac
“It’s nothing. We can clean it up ourselves, baby girl.” He leaned back against the steps and blew out a big breath. “You’re some sidekick, Annie. You’re fuckin’ amazing.”
He held out his arms and I kissed him and held him for a few minutes. “Let’s get you inside and look at your leg.”
“First, Annie, go down and drive that truck up here. Those assholes left it running thinking they would hit me quick and be out of here. I’ll call the boys and tell them we need a cleanup.”
“I’ll be right back.” I limped down the driveway to the pickup. My leg was seriously protesting the abuse I’d put it through in the bush. The motor was still idling, and the lights were on. I steered the old clunker up the hill, parked it beside the bike trailer and shut it off.
George put one arm around my neck, we leaned on each other, and he was able to hobble up the steps and into the cabin. I unzipped his blood soaked jeans and pulled them down while he leaned on the doorframe. Then I helped him to a kitchen chair and propped his leg up on another while I applied pressure to stop the bleeding.
After twenty minutes the blood had slowed to a trickle. I filled a basin with warm water and dish soap, cleaned the wound and bandaged it. He downed four of my pain killers with a fresh cup of coffee and called Jackson.
“Had a bit of trouble up here, Jackson. That fucker, Snake, followed me all the way up here with two other guys and took another run at me. Annie took two of ‘em out and left one for me. I was lucky she even gave me one,” he laughed and winked at me. “Okay, see you in three.”
“Let’s get you into bed and you can sleep until the boys come,” I said.
George lay on the bed covered with a quilt and I crawled in beside him in my clothes. My leg was throbbing. Angel plopped down on her blanket and heaved a big sigh. “Hard night, girl?” I patted her on the head with my eyes already closed.
ANGEL barked, and bolted out of the bedroom when the knock came at the door. I threw the quilt back, realized I was still dressed and went to let Jackson and the boys in.
“Any trouble finding the cabin? I didn’t hear George give you directions.” I tried to smooth my hair down with my hand, but there was no helping it.
“No trouble, Portia,” said Jackson. “Always have a GPS on the boss. How is he anyway? Didn’t say shit on the phone, so I knew he was hurt.”
“You boys know him well. You can talk to him in here.” I showed them into the bedroom where George was sitting up in bed in his boxers and a t-shirt, with his bandaged leg on top of the quilt.
“Is it bad, boss?” Rusty asked, frowning down at the bandage.
“Fuck. No. Wasn’t for Annie, I’d be lying out there dead like the rest of ‘em. Should’ve seen her knocking ‘em off in the pitch fuckin’ dark,” he said and chuckled.
“We should’ve been here, boss. Didn’t think that asshole had the balls for a second try.”
“Me neither. Or I would’ve killed him the first time. My mistake, being so forgiving n’all.”
I laughed to myself and stuck my head into the bedroom. “Can I interest anybody in a hot breakfast?”
“Sure, Portia,” Jackson said. “I’m always down for your cooking and they haven't had the pleasure. Fuckin long ride up here.”
George straightened and cursed as he shifted his leg. “Boys, while breakfast is cooking, throw those bodies into the back of the pickup and tie a tarp over ‘em. Annie will show you where the tarps are in the barn. Then on the way home, drive the whole works to the back of the range and set fire to it.”
“Will do, boss,” said Jackson heading outside with Rusty and Billy following close behind.
After breakfast, George said, “Annie, show the boys my latest purchase. Maybe they want to come up next weekend and go fishing with me.”
I smiled. “Come on, guys. George is super proud of his new toy.” I led them down the path to the lake and let them sit in the boat at the end of the dock.
“Holy shit, this is a beauty,” Rusty said. “Always wanted a Bass boat. Can we really come up and go fishing on Saturday?”
“George invited you, so yes. George is my family . . . that makes you boys family too.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
THE week up north had passed quickly. George was sitting on the back porch when I made my way from the bedroom into the kitchen. The coffee was ready, and he had taken my mug out of the cupboard for me. The bullet wound in his leg was causing him less distress and had started to heal. I sensed that he was ready to give full-time retirement a try, even though he hadn’t put it into words. My leg was healing, and the pain had subsided considerably.
I could tell he was anticipating a good weekend with the boys out on the lake and I was envisioning some heavy duty cooking. The day before, I had gone into town and bought steak, potatoes, hamburgers, coleslaw, several pies and ten cases of beer. I picked up a couple of extra coolers, snacks and everything I guessed men might need for a big fishing weekend. George had been catching minnows and storing them in a bucket at the shore, and I had bought dozens of frogs and worms at the local bait store.
“Did Jackson say what time they would arrive?” I asked, walking out to the porch with my coffee.
“Nope, just said early,” George motioned for me to sit on his knee.
“My big butt is going to hurt your leg, mister.”
“The day you have a big butt, little girl, is the day I sell my bike.”
I sat down gingerly on his good leg and put my arms around his neck. “This was our best week ever,” I said, kissing him.
“No way can I go back now that I’ve had a taste of life up here with you, Annie. No fuckin’ way.”
I hugged him tight and buried my face in his neck. “I love you so much, George, it hurts.”
Angel jumped up and ran around the side of the cabin when she heard the Harleys rumble up the hill. “We’ve got company. Sit tight. I’ll bring them around here.”
George beamed as Jackson, Rusty and Billy rounded the corner of the cabin and sat down on the edge of the porch. “You bastards eat breakfast?”
“Did a drive-through, boss,” said Rusty. “We’re ready to fish.” He lit up a smoke.
“How you gonna’ get down that fuckin’ hill, boss?” asked Billy.
“I’ve been practicing with Annie’s crutch. I’m good.”
While the boys talked over their plans for the day, I packed a lunch for them in the kitchen and loaded it into one of the coolers. The second one, full of ice and beer, was sitting at the ready next to the kitchen door, but I couldn’t lift it. “A couple of you strong handsome men want to help me get this beer and food down to the boat?” I called out the door.
“You made us food, Portia?” asked Jackson. “You’re the best. Help me carry these coolers, Billy,” he yelled. The boys hefted the coolers and headed down the path while I tried to help George get mobile with the one crutch under his arm.
“I’m okay, Annie.”
“I want to be beside you going down the hill. And I want Rusty on the other side.” I nodded toward Rusty.
“That would be best, boss. Don’t want you to roll down the hill and fall in the lake,” he snickered.
“You bastards would think that was a fuckin’ riot wouldn’t you?” George grumbled.
With George using the crutch, and Rusty and I on either side of him, he made it down the steep trail to the dock slowly but with little difficulty.
“We found more rods,” I said, “and George has them ready to go. They’re standing up against the wall in the boathouse, Billy.” I pointed and Billy brought them out and stowed them in the boat. I grabbed the minnows, frogs and worms and handed them to Jackson, “May mother nature smile upon you.”
“Thanks, Portia,” Jackson said grinning. “I hope the old bitch does just that.”
I held George’s crutch as he eased himself into the driver’s seat of the boat. “I’ll leave this here on the dock for you,” I said, laying it down.
&nb
sp; George nodded.
He doesn’t look happy.
“Have fun, guys. Be safe.” As they backed away from the dock, I waved then turned my back and trudged up the hill into the woods.
Life was bizarre. One minute I'm living what I thought would be a perfect life but was alone and scared and wondering if I was ever meant to find happiness and the next I’m waving across a sparkling glass lake and looking forward to feeding the most threatening bunch of fishermen I’d ever seen when they made their way back home tonight. Huh.
Angel and I had the day to ourselves in the cabin. By noon, everything was prepped for dinner and in the fridge. We took a long nap then sat on the porch in the late afternoon sun. At sundown, I started the barbeque and began preparing dinner in earnest. With the table set, the steaks marinating and the potatoes and veggies on the grill on low, I wandered down to the dock to see if there was any sign of the fishermen.
The sky was ablaze in shades of orange and pink as the big fiery ball dropped behind the trees on the other side of the lake. I squinted to see if any boats were in my range of vision, but I saw none.
“I hope they make it back to shore before long, Angel. George will have a hard time with the hill in the dark.”
After another twenty minutes of staring out at the water, I went back up to the cabin. The potatoes were almost done, so I moved them to the upper rack, shut the lid and waited.
I woke in the same chair on the porch, when I heard shouting down at the dock. My body was uncoordinated jumping up from a deep sleep, and my sore leg buckled under me. I fell on my face into the dirt. I picked myself up and hobbled down the path, my pulse pounding in my ears as I stumbled through the trees. My lunch was burning its’ way up my throat, and I hurled at the bottom of the hill.
Darkness had fallen over the water and the scene on the dock was illuminated only by the sliver of the waxing moon. Rusty, Billy and Jackson were sitting on the dock, drunk and yelling things at each other that didn’t make any sense. My eyes were riveted on the empty boat.
“Where’s George?” I screamed. “Where is he?”
Jackson looked up, got to his feet and started walking towards me. The utter dissolution in his eyes pegged me square in the heart.
“I’m sorry, Portia, he’s gone.”
EPILOGUE
Thursday, August 30th.
ACCORDING to Jackson, two months have passed since I lost George at the lake. My memories of that last day at the cabin are hazy at best, and I continue to dread the moment that clarity prevails.
I can’t recall returning to the city, or much that came after. Today is the first day I’ve been dressed in all that time. Jackson hasn’t left my side for a second and has been my life line. We are back in the house on Hawthorne Lane for the time being with Jackson housed in the guest room. He told me George had arranged for him to be my bodyguard after the first heart attack. George couldn’t bear to think of me alone and vulnerable, if anything happened to him.
Jackson said George suffered a massive heart attack in the boat the day they were fishing and fell overboard before any of them realized what was happening. They searched the water all around the boat, but out in the middle of the lake it was deep, and the water was black and murky.
A memorial service was held for George in the city. Hundreds of bikers attended to pay their respects. Jackson said it was one of the largest gatherings ever in Toronto. He took a video of the bike procession and said he would show it to me some day when I’m ready. Angel hasn’t been the same. She misses George terribly.
When George came into my life after Matthew died, I was alone, without direction and frightened of being on my own. Even though things didn’t turn out the way I’d hoped, loving George revealed inner strength I never knew I possessed and taught me I could do anything I put my mind to.
Maybe in the fall, Jackson will take Angel and I up to the cabin, but for today my big excursion will be down to the kitchen.
I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading Lily, the prequel to The Regulator Series. Next in the reading order comes Bad Beat.
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Regulator Series:
Lily
Bad Beat
Panama Annie
Coulter
Searching for Billy
End of an Era
Wingman
Triple Homicide
The Foundation
Hotline
Powell
Quantrall Series:
Quantrall
Ink Minx
Ray Jay
Blacky
The Coven
You Forgot to say Goodbye
Payback
Rags to Rage
The Corner Office
Race
Coma
No Defense
Full Circle
Stick a Needle in Your Eye
Crude
The Blackmore Agency Series:
Double Down
Splitting Aces
Dead Man’s Hand
Drawing Dead
Under the Gun
Rivered
The Turn
Final Table
Cat
Dog
Vigilance
Mystere
Hole in the Heart
Dead Eye
Backwater
Road Kill
Street Rat
Hoodoo (Up next)
Paradise Park Series:
Paradise Park
Return to Paradise
Paradise Sparks
Alone in Paradise
Together in Paradise
Prisoner in Paradise
Escape from Paradise
These are in series order.
