Tangled Threats on the Nomad Highway

by MariaLisa deMora

  “Me, asshole.”

  Alex nearly fell off the couch as he turned towards Einstein, gaze filled with bleary confusion.

  “I’m going to Retro’s to finish out the night with Marlin. Crazy Mike’ll be here in a few hours. Tell him to check his messages if he hasn’t already.” He waited, but Alex didn’t respond, just stared up at him. “You in there, Linus?”

  “What?” Alex ducked his head, palms scrubbing across both his cheeks. “Hold on, give me a minute to wake up.” His head rattled back and forth in a brisk arc, and then his feet landed on the floor with a thud. “Shit, what time is it?”

  Einstein consulted the clock on the wall. “Three o’clock. Time for good boys to be on their best behavior.” He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Isn’t it, Linus?”

  “Who the fuck is Linus?” Alex yawned, mouth open wide with a stifled groan. “God, couple hours’ sleep is worse than none sometimes.”

  “True that.” Einstein backed away towards the front door. “You awake, for sure? Want you to set the alarm after me. You remember what I said about Crazy Mike?”

  “Yeah, check his messages. You’re spelling Marlin?” Alex pushed up, stretching, the ill-fitting prospect vest sliding around on his shoulders. “Everything okay, bossman?”

  “Not spelling him, augmenting the watch.” The heat that rolled through the door underscored the oddness of Popova’s jacket earlier, and Einstein rethought his easy acceptance that the man hadn’t come into the clubhouse carrying. “If Popova comes back, make him take his coat off outside. Pass it on.” Just before the door closed, he turned and called through the narrowing gap. “Set the alarm, Linus.”

  “Who the hell is Linus?” The question was easily audible through the door, and Alex’s honest confusion had Einstein still laughing as he slung a leg across his bike. Hand going to the clutch automatically, he disengaged it, started the bike, and toed the shifter up into Neutral before he released his grip. Getting his helmet into place didn’t take long, and the loping roll of the engine had him anticipating the stretch of highway between the clubhouse and Retro’s house.

  Einstein rolled off the lot with a wide smile in place.

  ***

  Marian

  From her place in the back row of the van, Marian watched over her brothers.

  Luke was in the front, a position Gunny called shotgun for some reason, and hadn’t stopped plying the big man with questions. About his tattoos, his vest, the patches—some of which were vulgar, and it amused Marian when his ears would go red as he tried to avoid explaining the meaning—where they were going, what Gunny’s role was in the club—a term she noted Luke never got wrong—and if Myrt was really following them on a motorcycle.

  Thad had stretched out across the long seat in front of Marian, courteously kicking off his shoes before propping them high on the wall of the van. He’d slept a great deal, which wasn’t surprising, given the ordeal the boys had endured. When Thad hadn’t been subject to Sallabrook’s torture and abuse, he’d been protecting his older brother. Probably not a lot of rest for him.

  Myrt had talked to Marian about her time under Sallabrook’s thumb, in painful detail. But it had been necessary to share an understanding of what had brought them to that point, huddled together on a bed in a motel, the boys sleeping uneasily nearby. Marian had seen the pain in her sister’s expression as she revealed the past. Agonizing, yet blunted somehow. Then Marian had seen Bane with her sister, and everything had come clear.

  Myrt had denied anything, saying a relationship wouldn’t be in her future, but Marian had plied her with strong words of advice. Bane was clearly a good man who worshiped Myrt, and Marian had done everything she could to help open her sister’s eyes to the fact.

  Myrt didn’t have time to be wary or mistrustful of fate. Pregnant and dependent on the kindness of others, she needed to see what was right in front of her.

  Marian’s situation was significantly different, and that wasn’t her being obtuse.

  Gunny’s wife and children awaited at the end of the trip. She might be harboring a tiny bit of hero worship for him but not that kind of emotion. His gentle nature with the boys would have won her over alone. Then Marian had the experience of him soothing her while they waited in this very vehicle as Bane took care of business. She’d overheard Bane’s response to Myrt’s questions, and the muttered “you’ll never have to worry about him or Sallabrook again” had told her everything she needed to know.

  Knights.

  These men were protectors through and through, their instinctive reaction to right whatever wrongs had been shoved down the throats of the unwilling or weak. Off-white knights, she thought, covering her mouth with one hand to hide the way her lips curled in a full-bodied smile. Scary upon first encounter, both Gunny and Bane had quickly proven themselves ready to do anything to shield Marian, Myrtle, and the boys from badness.

  “Y’all ready?” The van slowed as Gunny spoke, turning left onto a small oil-top road. It bumped and swayed as Luke chortled a laugh. “We’re here, Maid Marian.”

  Rolling her eyes at his continued use of the ridiculous phrase, she craned her neck to see the upcoming house on the right-hand side of the road. She was nervous. Like the boys are. All of them were curious about where they’d be staying, and if Marian were the only one worried about any kind of repayment? Well, that was okay. The boys shouldn’t have to worry about shelter and safety. I can take that on. She’d done it all her life. Trading labor for full bellies and a protective room for her siblings. All the things that should have been a given coming from a parent but weren’t.

  The driveway was wide and well-maintained. From here, the house looked on the small side. It was a two-story structure with a broad front porch, but there was a wide groomed yard along the side and back, as far as she could see. Through the trees beyond rose the outline of a larger house, about a quarter of a mile farther along the way.

  As the van rocked to a stop, a woman burst through the front door. She had a child on her hip and was followed by two more, the door scarcely landing in its frame before it opened again and an older woman exited.

  Gunny’s reverent, “Shar,” cemented the identity of the younger woman, as did the childish screams of “Daddy, Daddy.”

  Marian and the boys stayed put, stuck to their seats as Gunny bailed out of the vehicle and swept his wife into his arms. One of his hands left Sharon’s back to drift down and find the back of each little head where the girls had encircled one of his thighs with their arms.

  This is what love looks like.

  Marian swallowed hard and dipped her face, intent on giving the family privacy. The vehicle’s side door opened, and she looked up to find the woman who’d followed Sharon outside standing in the gap. “You must be Marian. You’re Thad, no doubt, got that look about you. Luke, is that you up in the front? Did Gunny keep you amused for the drive down? Come on out. I’m sure you’re all tired of being cooped up in this van. I’ve got snacks in the house. Marian, are the boys allergic to anything? Come on, slide out. Luke, can you open the door from in there?”

  Luke tumbled out of the seat and latched on to the woman, face buried against her shoulder. “You’re Vanna Mom. Myrtie told me all about you.”

  Vanna’s laughter was soft and sweet, and Marian loved her in that moment, at how the woman walked the fine line of finding humor in his words but careful not to laugh at Luke’s reaction. “I am. You can call me that if you like. I’m so happy you’re here, Luke. You too, Thad. Come on inside. I don’t bite.”

  “Don’t let her lie to you, boys.” Gunny’s laughing voice carried from where he was still in a close embrace with his family. “She bites hard when she’s pissed.”

  “Well, I’m far from pissed right now, so I think everyone’s safe from my chompers.” She clacked her teeth together, and Luke giggled.

  Marian leaned forward and gave Thad a tiny shove against his shoulder. “Out we get. I’ll come back and gra
b our bags in a bit. Let’s stretch our legs, little brother.” He looked back at her as he moved, the lack of trust he felt clear in his expression. “Test the waters. I don’t think Myrtie would steer us wrong. Just test the waters, Thad.”

  “Okay.” The word was grudgingly given, but it was thrown out as Thad started moving. Marian followed him through the door, unfolding with a groan as her bruises pulled and ached.

  “Welcome, welcome.” The booming shout alarmed Marian, and without thinking, she quickly moved both boys behind her, stepping between them and whoever this new potential threat was. She kept one hand on Thad’s shoulder, ready to shove him to safety.

  “Jesus, Truck. Tone it back, brother.” Gunny rushed to a stop in front of Marian, and she focused on the image sewn to the back of his vest. A skull with a key clenched between its teeth. She startled as she realized it was different from the one Bane had worn. Huh. Gunny turned and crouched slightly, his face in line with Marian’s. Earnest concern pulled the features of his face taut. “Shit, Maid Marian. He’s harmless to you and the boys, promise. He’s loud but harmless. Wouldn’t hurt a woman or a child, no matter what.” His gaze darted past her, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Thad had done much the same as her, putting Luke behind him. “Goddamn, your family fucked you guys up.” The whisper was tortured, and Gunny shook his head while Marian watched, rocked by his statement. He’s right, though. His family is so different from ours. Louder, he continued, “Thad, I swear you’re safe here. Luke’s safe here.”

  “No harm will come to you or yours, Marian.” Marian looked away from Gunny to see a mirroring expression on Vanna’s face. “My old man wasn’t thinking, is all. Look at him.” Marian did, easing to the side to see beyond Gunny. The man called Truck was leaning against the porch railing with both hands, arms straight, and his head hanging low. “Man’s sorry as anything he startled you so badly.”

  “Okay.” Myrt trusts them. She shifted to stare into Gunny’s face. Gunny trusts them. If Marian were being honest, his approval held more weight than her sister’s avowal. Myrt had been as sheltered as Marian, but Gunny’s many stories had revealed the breadth and width of his experience in the world. “If Gunny trusts you, that’s good enough for me.”

  “Me too.” Thad moved around Marian, Luke in tow, and positioned them both next to Gunny.

  Sharon stepped into view, and the wide grin on her face surprised Marian. “That’s my man, makin’ friends and bein’ everyone’s savior. It’s in his DNA, swear.” The words were teasing, but Sharon’s tone held nothing but love and pride as she took up a place on Gunny’s other side. “Here, take your hunk of child, big guy.”

  Gunny’s arm extended and wrapped around the boy Sharon had been holding. He slung the child over his shoulder, locking the little thighs in place with one beefy arm as the boy giggled wildly. “I got him.” He stretched his other arm across Thad’s shoulders and latched onto Luke’s shirt with his hand. “And I got you guys, too. Let’s go find food.”

  Marian watched them walk through the grass to the steps, Gunny not letting the boys hesitate before making their way up and onto the porch where Truck was waiting. He crouched down and extended a hand to Thad, and Marian held her breath until her brother responded to something the man had said, reaching out to shake solemnly. Luke was bouncing on his toes by that point and quickly responded to the man when the hand was extended in his direction. Truck’s laughter at something one of the boys said was quiet but pleased, and he opened the door, stepping back to let Gunny and the boys through first.

  Vanna appeared in front of her and, with a wide gesture, wrapped her arms around Marian gently. “We’ve got you, sister.”

  A lump the size of a crab apple developed in her throat, blocking her words but not her sobs as Marian allowed herself to begin believing.

  ***

  Dinner preparation was hectic, the two men and three boys paired with two little girls. All of whom were underfoot as they looked for scraps and nibbles. It was a happy occasion, unlike any meal Marian could ever remember, filled to the brim with harmless teasing and laughter. Each time Thad or Luke joined in on the antics caused her heart to hitch painfully in her chest, their hesitating movements and words gradually gaining confidence throughout the evening. Her brothers began to bloom in ways that should have always been part of their lives. Dread and a sense of loss filled the space around her like white noise, though, making it hard to hear conversation. She’d missed a dozen direct questions, her inattention forcing the person to ask again, and the idea they would go to the trouble was enough to floor her emotionally.

  The food itself was plentiful and good, something Vanna called comfort food. She’d made savory meatloaf and extra-creamy baked macaroni and cheese as the main dishes, and sides of mashed potatoes and brown gravy were paired with mixed vegetables Vanna explained came from her garden. That was followed by a casserole dish filled with peach cobbler, Marian’s sole addition to the meal. Cheap and easy to make, it was something the boys were familiar with, and it pleased Marian to have the dessert declared a winner by even Gunny and Truck.

  She’d stayed close to Sharon, watching the woman to take cues from how she behaved. That had led to some confusion as Sharon acted more like it was her house than Vanna’s. And then, after dinner, when the kids were all watching some movie on the living room TV, Marian had learned why.

  Gunny had shared that Myrt wasn’t the first person Vanna had rescued. What he hadn’t mentioned was how Sharon had lived in this home for years, helping Vanna care for her son, Kitt. The young man now lived on his own in a suburb of Atlanta but had placed a stamp not only on the house but on Sharon’s interaction with his mother.

  Marian perched on the edge of her chair, and as Sharon related her version of the story, she kept track as Vanna’s expression changed. Love was the overriding emotion, but much like Sharon was with Gunny, it was mixed liberally with pride.

  “And that’s how I came to call her Vanna Mom.” Sharon scooted her chair closer to Marian, and before she could wave Sharon off, had leaned in and cinched her arm tightly around Marian’s body.

  Gunny’s “Sharon, no,” wasn’t in time, and all Marian could do was groan as the tight hold woke the pain. She wavered, held in place by hands on her shoulders, and tried to struggle free as her shirt was flipped up, exposing her back.

  “Don’t.” Her request was too late, based on the shocked gasps from Sharon and Vanna. “Please.” She tried to slide her clothing back into place, each movement waking the pain more. “No.”

  “Who the hell did that to you, girl?” Truck’s question boomed through the house, and Marian heard heavy footfalls immediately approaching the kitchen from the direction of the living room.

  “Let go of her,” Thad shouted, and Marian bent over, hiding her face in her palms. “Get your stinkin’ hands off her.”

  “Thad, it’s okay,” Gunny responded, as the hands on her shoulders disappeared. “Buddy, it’s okay.”

  Blocking out everything happening around her, Marian tried again to restore order to her clothing and failed. A body bumped into her side, and Luke whispered, “I’ll help,” as the shirt lowered to hide her shame.

  “Leave her alone,” Thad shouted again, and a hand she recognized as his landed on top of her head, the boy knowing from long experience it would be a safe place to connect, unlikely to cause pain. “Leave us all alone.”

  Shouted arguments between the two men were echoed in Thad’s voice, Sharon and Vanna nowhere to be heard. Marian carefully measured each breath as enough to stay conscious but not enough to trigger a cough or pain, the broken ribs complaining loudly about the strain of holding her body together. “Nugh.” Mouth opened wide, she sipped at the air, each exhale releasing a little more pain. “I’m okay,” she tried to reassure Thad, but he snorted his disbelief. “No, I am. It’s not bad. Just took me by surprise.”

  Hands still in place over her face, she sat more upright, careful not to lean backwards. �
�Tissue?” Something soft drifted across the back of her hand in response, and she clutched at it blindly. Eyes wiped free from tears, she dabbed at her nose, knowing from experience that blowing it would tear down all the progress made so far. “I’m okay.”

  Thad’s hand was replaced by another, fingers gently threading through her hair. She blinked up to see Gunny standing next to her. “Fuckin’ knew I should have taken you to the doc.” His expression was tortured. “I’m sorry I failed you, Maid Marian.”

  “I wouldn’t have gone.” She gave him the truth and heard Sharon snort from behind him. “Nothin’ against you, Gunny, but I wouldn’t have. This isn’t bad.”

  “God damn, girl.” Truck’s voice was raspy. “You’re breakin’ my fuckin’ heart.”

  “I’m sorry, Marian.” Sharon popped her head around Gunny’s side, teeth worrying at her bottom lip. “I didn’t know.”

  “I didn’t want you to know.” They deserved the truth as she saw it. “It’s never going to happen to me again. I’m here, and you, all of you, have saved me.” Air rushed into her lungs on a groan, and Gunny’s hand tightened in her hair. Shaking her head slowly, she reminded him, “You saved us. Like with Sharon’s stories, the bad is in the past, and there’s only good in our futures.”

  Vanna replaced Gunny, and she stretched out both hands, guiding Marian to her feet. “I’m thinking a hot shower will make you feel tons better, then we’ll get you into bed. Truck,” she called over her shoulder. “Earlier, Marian set their bags just inside the front door. Bring them up to the guest suite. We’ve got the pull-out in there the boys can sleep on.” Focusing on Marian, she murmured, “I suspect you’ll rest better if you know they’re close by.”

  Marian straightened, forcing her shoulders back as she nodded. “You’re right.” Looking at Thad, she gave him a smile she knew he’d see straight through to the pain beneath, and recognized she’d been right when his brows wrinkled. “Take the little ones and go finish the movie? That’ll give me time to get ready for bed. Vanna Mom’s right. I’m pretty near wiped out.”