by JG Faherty
Kristy’s mouth hung open but no words came out. Tattoo girl’s eyes had gone wide and she’d pulled her phone out, was videoing everything.
Even better! By the time he left, the Hell Riders and all their followers – shit, the whole town! – would know Hank Bowman had gone—
“Yes!”
“Really?” Eddie had half-expected she’d either laugh at his proposal or tell him to get lost. Who would take back a loser like Hank? She must be desperate.
She grabbed the box and slipped the ring on her finger. The diamond was huge, gaudy, and poor quality, which Eddie figured matched Hank’s tastes perfectly.
“Ohmygod! I love it! It’s perfect!”
“You make me complete.” Eddie stood and gave a loopy grin right into the other girl’s phone. “My heart belongs to you.”
She squealed again and wrapped her arms around him. Kissed him, her mouth tasting of pot, vodka, and unbrushed teeth, a perfect match to Hank’s. Her tongue attacked his, twining and pushing like an animal trying to force its way into a cave. Eddie found himself responding, dimly aware of the old men clapping and tattoo girl narrating something into her phone. When Kristy finally broke the kiss and leaned back, her ample chest heaving as she caught her breath, Eddie wished she hadn’t stopped. In fact, there was no reason they couldn’t go into the back room and—
“Damn, I missed that.” Kristy stepped out of his arms. “But I ain’t surprised. I figured you’d get tired of that skinny-ass bitch sooner or later and come crawling back. But I didn’t expect this.” She held up her hand, the ring shining dully in the overhead lights. “I’d have kicked your ass out the door if you hadn’t had it. See this, Sandy Powell? Karma’s a bitch. I got a ring and you’re dead!”
Eddie’s rage ignited at her words. Who the fuck was she to talk about Sandy? His arm lashed out and he grabbed her by the wrist, slammed her hand down on the bar.
“Watch your fuckin’ mouth.”
“Ow! What the fuck? Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on that skank?”
Eddie’s other hand came around and slapped her across the face, hard enough to leave a red, hand-shaped mark but not hard enough to bruise. What Ned Bowman used to call a warning rather than a lesson.
“Oh, shit.” Tattoo girl leaned closer with the phone.
Eddie paused, his hand raised for another blow. Control. Gotta keep—
Pain exploded between his legs as Kristy smashed her knee into his balls.
“Fuck you, Hank Bowman!” she shouted. Humiliation painted her face and fury burned in her eyes. “Get the hell out of here!”
Doubled over and cupping his injured nuts, Eddie still managed to choke his next words out through teeth gritted against the pain.
“You’re a terrible fuck. Sandy did it better.”
“You sonofabitch!” She kicked him again, in the thigh. He laughed, and she attacked him like a cornered wildcat, slashing at him with her long nails and pulling chunks of hair. Instead of fighting back, Eddie covered his face. He needed Hank’s eyes intact for later.
Something hard bounced off his shoulder and glass shattered on the floor. He looked up. Kristy had a beer mug in her hand. Before he could move, she thumped it against his head. Bright lights filled his vision and he stumbled to his knees. Her foot lashed out again and the pointed toe of her cowboy boot stabbed him in the ribs. Cold liquid drenched his back as the tattoo girl poured a beer on him.
“You fucking bitch!” He pulled himself up and cocked his fist, ready to send Kristy’s friend into Neverland.
The three old men stood behind her, all of them gripping mugs like brass knuckles.
“Time for you to get your ass out of here, Bowman,” one of them said. Despite his age, he looked in good enough shape to do some damage.
The urge to let loose his rage and bring the roof down on them was so strong his muscles trembled. A little burst of energy sneaked out, just enough to make the lights flicker and the jukebox squeal.
No. Not them. Not today. You got other business to take care of.
He turned and stared at Kristy, who’d grabbed a baseball bat from behind the bar and looked ready to use it.
Today’s you’re lucky day. You just don’t know it.
“We’ll settle this later. At home, darling.” He stretched out the last word so that it dripped with sarcasm. “You know what they say. Practice makes perfect. Maybe someday you can be good as her.”
“Get the fuck out of my bar, you asshole!” She swung the bat, but he was ready. He dodged out of the way and then grabbed it from her hands and threw it across the bar. Bottles shattered and booze sprayed in all directions.
“I’m gone, but you’ll see me again. And when you do, make sure to tell me Eddie was here.”
Kristy’s eyebrows scrunched together as she tried to make sense of his words.
“Eddie? What are you talking about? He’s dead. And you’re—”
“I’m the guy who just can’t die.” Eddie laughed, “And this is just the beginning. Ask your new fiancé if he believes in ghosts yet.”
Still laughing, he turned and headed for the doors. Kristy’s shout followed him as he pushed them open.
“You’re fuckin’ crazy, Hank! Eddie’s dead! You killed him!”
He started Hank’s bike, letting the engine’s roar cut off the sound of her voice.
One more thing to do, and then Hank could wake up to a whole new world of trouble.
* * *
The hospital dozed in that quiet period between lunch and dinner when Eddie marched Hank’s body down the hall to Jethro’s room. Most of the doctors had finished their rounds, and the nurses were at their stations, updating the charts. The perfect setting for the afternoon’s grand finale. He’d already called Mouse and Harley, told them to meet him there.
“Shit, man,” Mouse said as Eddie walked in. “You look like hell.”
“Yeah, what the hell happened to you?” Harley asked.
Eddie gave them a big grin. He knew what the others were seeing. His face and arms covered in scratches from Kristy’s nails. His hair and beard wet with beer. His eyes red from partying.
They think I look crazy now? Wait ’til that video from the bar hits the ’net.
“Been a fuckin’ helluva day,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “I’ve been doin’ a lot of thinkin’.” He went over to the bed, his smile growing wider as Jethro grew more nervous the closer he got.
“There’s been some weird shit goin’ on lately. We all know it. But we can’t let that get between brothers, right? Hell Riders gotta stick together.”
“Damn straight,” Harley said.
“Hell yeah.” Mouse pumped his fist.
On the bed, Jethro just nodded. His eyes flicked from Hank to Harley and back again.
“So, after reflecting some, I figure whatever made Jethro here act like a fuckin’ dipshit the other day, maybe it ain’t his fault.”
“It wasn’t me, I swear,” Jethro whispered.
“I believe you. And to prove it, I’m gonna give you somethin’ special, somethin’ I wouldn’t let no one else have. My cock.”
“What?” Jethro started to move back, but Eddie grabbed him by the neck, held him in place. With his other hand, he unzipped his jeans and took out his dick.
“Yep. Just a quick blow job and I forget you ever crossed me.” Eddie leaned forward and rubbed Hank’s dick across Jethro’s lips and nose. The injured Hell Rider turned his head back and forth, pushing at the bed railing with his hands, but couldn’t avoid the contact.
“’Course, there’s some jizz mixed in. Sorry ’bout that. And with Kristy, you might never know who else’s stuff is in there. She’s a regular sperm bank, ain’t that the truth?”
“What the fuck, Hank?” Harley grabbed his arm and pulled him away.
“Ge
t your fuckin’ hands off me or I’ll cut ’em the fuck off!” Eddie shoved Harley away. The fluorescent tubes in the ceiling flickered and buzzed. The IV pump hooked to Jethro’s arm dinged twice.
Mouse let out a yelp and backed away from the bed.
Eddie took a deep breath and the lights steadied. He smiled again and waved Hank’s dick around while Jethro frantically wiped at his face and lips with both hands and Harley frowned like he’d been given a math problem.
“Things are gonna be different, now, boys. We got business to take care of. We’re gonna make this fuckin’ town our own. I’ll be right back, gotta take a piss.”
Eddie headed for the door, his dick still dangling, the stares of the three riders warm on his back. When he exited the room, he made sure to leave the door open so Harley, Mouse, and Jethro had a clear view. Aiming himself in the direction of the nurses’ station, he let loose a long stream of piss right onto the floor.
And then took his leave of Hank’s body.
Chapter Nineteen
The last thing Carson wanted to do was stop kissing Kellie. But his stomach rumbled, reminding him he’d need to start thinking about making dinner soon. And he should check in on his mother.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, reluctantly tearing himself away. “I just hafta see if my mom needs anything.”
“Okay. I’ll be here when you’re done.” Kellie lay back on the bed, and Carson almost gave in to the temptation to join her. His lips and tongue tingled, and like him they wanted more. However, as the closest thing to the man of the house, he knew he had responsibilities to take care of.
“Mom?” He knocked on the door. When there was no answer, he knocked louder. “Mom? It’s almost time for your medicine. Do you need water or anything?”
Nothing.
A feeling of dread blossomed in the pit of his stomach, the kind of dread that comes from living with someone who has a terminal illness. The idea that this might be it, that his mother might be gone forever.
He pushed open the door, while telling himself to stop being so foolish, she was just asleep.
Except she wasn’t.
Sally Ryder lay sideways on the bed, one arm extended outward toward the pill bottles on her nightstand. Her eyes were closed, and a line of spittle dangled from the edge of her bottom lip.
Carson’s heart kicked into overdrive.
No. Not now. NO!
“Kellie! Call 911!”
* * *
Johnny Ray Jones was contemplating dinner menus at his desk, trying to decide between the meatloaf special from Hickey Tavern or a couple of loaded hot dogs from Dairy King, when the call came in. Drunk and disorderly at the hospital. He’d been ready to send Moselby until he found out it was Hank Bowman who’d decided to take a piss in the hallway.
Got you, you stupid asshole. Let’s see you talk your way out of this one.
D and D wasn’t as good as murder, but it meant he’d get to keep Bowman locked in a cell for a day or two. Which would give him ample opportunity to pry some information out of the dumb bastard, especially if Hank still had a load on.
Except it turned out Bowman was apparently so stoned he didn’t even know where he was or what he’d done.
“I swear, I didn’t do nuthin’,” the disoriented biker kept repeating, as they rode back to the station. Every time he said it, Johnny Ray just shook his head. They had him dead to rights. Not only were there a half-dozen witnesses, but the security cameras had caught the whole thing on tape. On top of that, his jeans were still wet and stinking of piss. Yet he kept insisting he’d never gone to the hospital, never spoken with his buddies, all of whom looked spooked to hell by his crazy actions.
“Let him sleep a couple of hours,” Jones told Ted Moselby after they ushered Hank into the drunk tank and shut the cell door. “Then I’ll try talking to him again.”
“You got it, Chief.”
Johnny Ray barely had time to sit down before the phone jangled.
“Chief! We got a 911 call!” Cindy Emerson, the evening receptionist, shouted. Something in her voice told Johnny Ray it wasn’t an ordinary emergency.
“What is it?” he asked, already up and reaching for his hat.
“It’s your daughter. She’s at the Ryder place. Her and Carson just found Sally unconscious.”
“I’m on my way!”
Johnny Ray was out the door before Cindy finished acknowledging his words. A terrible pain gripped his heart as he flipped on the siren in his SUV, a pain that had no physical origin.
Please don’t let her die.
He raced down Main Street, cursing the gods of Fate for continually raining tribulations down on Sally. First they saddled her with Big Eddie, a textbook definition of an abusive, good-for-nothing loser. Because of his laziness she’d been forced to help support the family by taking a job at the fertilizer plant, where she inhaled enough toxins over the years to ruin her lungs and immune system. But, no, that wasn’t enough. They’d sent her an evil present in the form of Little Eddie, who’d picked up right where his father left off.
Of course, the Fates hadn’t shot their entire load on Sally. They’d saved a good one for Johnny Ray. The one he’d found out thirdhand not long after Sally got knocked up by Big Eddie. It’d been Cindy Emerson who’d told him, long before either of them joined the police force.
“I can’t believe you two never got together. She was so sweet on you all through school.”
That was his own private hell, the knowledge that if he’d only gotten up the nerve to ask her out the first time he met her – or any time before Big Eddie did – she might never have started dating Big Eddie in the first place. She’d be healthy and happy today and he wouldn’t be a widower.
Please, God, if you’re listening. Give me another chance. I swear I won’t make the same mistake twice.
* * *
Johnny Ray arrived at Sally Ryder’s trailer just as the EMTs jumped out of the ambulance and ran to the front door. By the time he got inside, Carson had already led the two techs down the hall.
“Daddy!”
Kellie practically leaped into his arms. Black trails of mascara ran down both cheeks, turning her pretty face into a Halloween fright mask.
“Are you okay, honey?” he asked, holding her tight against his chest.
“Yeah.”
“You sure? Can you tell me what happened?”
She nodded, and then pulled back a little. “We were in Carson’s room, just…um, watching TV, and he went to ask his mom if she wanted dinner. That’s when….”
Her voice trailed off and Johnny Ray hugged her again. For a moment it was as if they’d gone back in time, back to when Angelina had died. Kellie was still young, still hurting from the loss of her brother. The years dropped away and his pain was as cold and solid as it had been that night. He could only imagine how it felt for her.
How it had been seeing Sally on that bed, wondering if she was alive.
Not for the first time, he wished Kellie’d had a good female role model in her life. Of course, the lack of one fell entirely on his shoulders. He’d never been good at choosing women. After high school, a string of one-night stands had led to Jeff, and that had been a hard life lesson to learn. But it was one he’d taken to heart. From that point on, he’d stayed away from ‘bad’ girls and eventually met Angelina, who turned out to be the perfect woman. Smart, from a good family, and pretty as hell. So perfect she’d actually made him forget about Sally.
Life had been great for twelve years, until the day Angelina went to the doctor with stomach pains and died two weeks later from an infection she developed during the removal of a burst appendix.
Leaving him to raise a teenage girl with major abandonment issues.
A little therapy and a lot of love, combined with Kellie’s amazing inner strength, had enabled father and da
ughter to work things through and come out better for it. Still, he harbored a deep resentment toward Fate or God, depending on the day, and knowing those old memories were playing a part in how Kellie felt at the moment brought all his bitterness to the surface again like fetid waters rising in a swamp.
“Look out, folks!”
Johnny Ray guided Kellie out of the way as the EMTs exited the hallway and headed for the front door. One of them pushed an ambulance gurney holding a very pale Sally Ryder, while the other worked on getting a drip bag of some kind going. Above the oxygen mask that covered her nose and mouth, Sally’s eyes were open but unfocused. Carson trailed behind, looking like a lost child in a department store.
“How is she?” Johnny asked one of the techs, a lanky fellow named Russell.
“Better than she looks,” Russell said, steering the gurney around the couch. “Prob’ly had a dizzy spell and passed out reaching for her meds. Unless the doc finds something different, she should be good as new in a day or two.”
Then they were out the door and wheeling toward the ambulance.
Carson stopped by the couch, his eyes moving between Johnny and the EMTs, clearly unsure of whether he could ride in the ambulance.
“I’ll take you to the hospital,” Johnny said. “And we’ll stay with you until your mom’s settled into a room or sent home, whatever the doctors decide.”
“Thanks.” Carson’s relief showed in his eyes and on his face. “I just…I have to get the insurance cards. They’re in her pocketbook.”
“Sure.” Johnny watched Carson hurry back down the hall to Sally’s room.
How sad that a kid his age has to know about things like insurance paperwork and emergency rooms.
Then he felt Kellie’s hand in his and realized how similar their situations were. If anything ever happened to him, it would be Kellie looking for insurance cards and wondering how she would get to the hospital.
I think when this is over, she and I are going to have a long talk. Make sure she knows what to do and who to call in case of an emergency.