Savage Kings MC Box Set 2

by Lane Hart

  “What do you mean?” Torin asks. “You think he’s been skimming?”

  “Oh, he’s definitely been skimming,” one of the other guys says with a gruff bark of laughter. “And we want our fucking money back.”

  “What?” I ask. “You think Evelyn has it or something?”

  “That’s what we want to find out,” Malcolm replies.

  “She’s not in any shape to talk right now. Your boy, Lowell, got her strung out, and she’s still going through withdrawals,” I snap at them. “You all wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  “Look, man, we barely saw the girl. Lowell kept her holed up in their apartment most of the time,” Malcolm says with his palms raised in the air. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if he was skimming product along with the four hundred thousand dollars he stole from the club.”

  “That’s a lot of money to go missing,” Reece says. “How come nobody noticed it before now?”

  “Because Lowell handled all of our fucking money,” Malcolm explains. “He was the one rigging the books. Imagine our surprise when we realize that we’re about thirty Gs richer this month than last.”

  “Whatever Lowell did with your money, I don’t think Evelyn had any part in it.”

  “Hey, now,” Malcolm starts, pointing a finger at me. “You’re the one who just said she only married him for his money, not me.”

  “That’s right. She did,” I agree. “Evelyn needed the money for her mother, who has kidney failure and is on daily dialysis waiting on a transplant. That shit isn’t cheap.”

  The three men exchange a look with each other as if they’re trying to decide whether or not I’m telling the truth.

  “I can probably get you all proof of her doctor bills and prescriptions if you want,” I offer.

  “Yeah, okay,” Malcolm agrees. “Last two years’ worth?”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “We’d appreciate that,” their president says before looking to ours. “And we don’t want to have any bad blood with the Kings. I swear, man, we didn’t know where we were even going until Lowell led us here the other day. We’ve got enough problems on our plate without having to deal with a rival MC, especially one as big as the Savage Kings.”

  “That’s right,” Torin says. “You don’t want us as an enemy. Remember the last time you all backed the wrong fucking man?”

  “You burned the Ace of Spades down. We remember,” one of the guys grumbles.

  “And we also learned an important lesson about not getting into business with the cartel,” Malcolm adds. “Anyway,” he says with a sigh. “Try to get us those records; and if you happen to see Lowell, give us a call.”

  “If he shows up here again, he won’t be leaving alive,” I warn them. “He’s a rabid dog that needs to be put down once and for all.”

  The guys share another look, the two members each giving a small nod to Malcolm, who says, “Give us the proof of where he’s been spending our cash, and you can have him.”

  “Deal,” I agree, offering him my hand to shake on it, which he takes with a strong grip.

  The men then climb back on their motorcycles and peel out of the parking lot before Torin, Reece and I head back inside.

  “Looks like that shithead has met the end of the line,” Reece mutters.

  “At least now you’ve got their blessing to end him,” Torin says to me. “The Kings would’ve had your back, but it’s nice to know we won’t be making a new enemy. I’m getting too old for this outlaw shit.”

  “Yeah, I’m glad it’s just Lowell and not his entire crew we have to deal with,” I agree. “I’ll talk to Rita and get them the bank records ASAP.”

  “Good,” Torin replies. “How’s Evelyn doing? Withdrawals getting any better?”

  “Depression or withdrawals, I don’t really know what the fuck is going on with her,” I reply. “Could one of you maybe get in touch with Sax to see if Isobel could come and check on Evelyn? She’s not doing good coming off whatever the hell cocktail that asshole’s been giving her for years.”

  “Sure, man. I’ll give Sax a call and see when she can get over here,” Torin responds. Giving me a slap on the shoulder, he adds, “Try to hang in there, kid.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Evelyn

  “Evelyn? Hi, I’m Isobel,” a beautiful woman’s face says from right above my own. I would think she’s possibly an angel except I doubt angels have blue hair. “Cedric asked me to come by and check on you, so I’m just going to take your blood pressure, pulse and temperature to see how you’re doing, okay?” the Smurf angel informs me.

  “I’m awful,” I tell her. “Everything still hurts. All over. I don’t have any energy to move.”

  “That’s the withdrawal symptoms. They can last weeks,” she says with a frown. “Your brain got used to getting something, and then you suddenly quit. How long were you using ecstasy and oxy before you stopped?”

  “Two years,” I answer.

  “That’s a long time, and it’s not going to be easy, but you can get through this. You have Cedric who loves you and is worried about you. He’s going to stick by you and make sure you come out on the other side, healthier and happier.”

  “I don’t deserve him,” I mutter while she pumps up the blood pressure cuff on my arm.

  “Of course you do. Everyone deserves to be loved.”

  “I left him for someone else. I’m married,” I tell her, which is a surprise based on her raised brows.

  “So things are a bit complicated. It will all work out,” she says.

  “How do you know? Are you psychic?” I ask.

  “Nope. Just a pediatric nurse,” Isobel responds, giving me a stern look. “And if you were to spend an hour with the terminally ill kids on my floor, I bet you would stop feeling sorry for yourself and be incredibly grateful for your health instead.”

  “Oh, jeez. You work with sick kids?” I mutter. “You really are an angel.”

  “For a while, I quit nursing. I was throwing myself pity parties too, angry at my father and god because I drew the short stick in the life expectancy category. But then I met Sax, and he made me realize that I’m pretty blessed in the love category, all things considered.”

  “I think I would rather have kidney disease and be dying than having to watch my mother go through it. She’s too good a person to suffer like that, you know?”

  “Isn’t that always the case?” Isobel says with a smile. “Evil bastards never get what they deserve, living until they’re a hundred while the good die young.”

  “I’m so horrible, I may never die,” I admit to her, having no doubt that Lowell will probably live to be over a hundred, too.

  “I seriously doubt that you’re horrible,” she replies. “If you were, there wouldn’t be a handsome man waiting outside that door, worried to death about you.”

  Cedric

  “So? How is she?” I ask Isobel as soon as she comes out of my apartment.

  “Her vitals are good. It’s just going to be a long, tough road to recovery for her,” she says. “Abusing any sort of drug for that long of a period of time, well, who knows what kind of damage it’s done to her brain and her body. Who was the other man she mentioned? Her husband?”

  “She told you about Lowell?” I say in shock. “That guy is a real bastard. He was the one who supplied her with the drugs.”

  “Then she’s probably going to need to see a therapist to get through her emotional baggage and depression too. It sounds like she’s been through a lot with him and her mom, who is sick.”

  “Yeah, she has, but Ev is tough. She’ll pull through,” I say. “She has to,” I add, my voice cracking.

  “Evelyn is lucky to have you, Cedric,” Isobel says when she gives me a hug. “Not many men would stick around through this, the bad times.”

  “I love her. Always have,” I say simply. “I would do anything for her. It’s my fault she’s having to deal with all of this. I should’ve saved her
from that bastard sooner.”

  “You can’t blame yourself. That doesn’t do you or her any good. All you can do now is focus on the future you get to have together, hopefully a long and happy one.”

  “Yeah, hopefully,” I agree, although deep down there’s a part of me that still has doubts.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Evelyn

  “I’m a mess,” I tell Cedric when he comes into the room and stares at me silently after Isobel leaves. “More than you bargained for, right?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “If you had known how fucked up I am, you wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble to come back for me.”

  “Is that what you think?” he asks when he comes over and kneels beside the bed.

  “Yes.”

  “There is nothing that would’ve stopped me from coming back. I love you. That’s not going to change, okay? We’ll get through this too, I promise,” he says. “Remember how you wanted all your seashells to be perfect and white? Well, in life, there’s no such thing as being perfect. It’s okay if you’re a little damaged. We all are, baby.”

  “I just, I feel so guilty for doing this to you, for putting you through all of this!” I tell him as tears begin to stream down my face. “Goddammit, now I’m a crying mess again,” I manage to choke out. “I feel like I’m completely out of control, of my body, my emotions…you’re the only solid thing I have to hold on to!” I break down completely as Cedric takes me into his arms.

  “I got you Ev. Go on, let it out,” Cedric says as he rocks me gently.

  “It was different with Lowell,” I admit as I cling to Cedric. “I never felt guilty, because I was using him just as much as he was using me. We were parasites, feeding off of each other…”

  “That’s not true, Ev. Don’t think like that,” Cedric insists. “Look, I understand what started you down the path with Lowell. He had a lot to offer you, and I’m sure he didn’t seem so bad, to you at least.”

  “I should have known after the night we were together, and how he reacted when he found us. I should never have gone with him. But with everything my mom was facing, I just didn’t see any other way. Being with him, especially after that night with you, was awful, but seeing my mom get the treatment she needed, and then being able to get through the days with the pills…I never felt this guilty. Do you understand? I never felt like I was hurting anyone, the way I feel like I’m hurting you…”

  “You’re not hurting me, Ev,” Cedric sighs as he rests his head on top of mine. “I mean, obviously it’s painful to see you going through this. It breaks my fucking heart. But, baby, I understand. You aren’t doing anything to me. You’re recovering from an awful experience that would have messed up anyone. Once we get through this together, we’ll have our entire lives in front of us.”

  “Thank you,” I mumble. “For being here, for caring…for everything. I don’t deserve you.”

  “You deserve the best life can give you, and I’m going to help you get it,” Cedric says as he hugs me closer. “Don’t think for a moment that I’m some altruistic savior swooping in and expecting nothing in return. I did all this for me, as much as for you, Ev. I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you when we were kids. There is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do to make you mine.”

  For some reason, that thought makes me feel better than anything else we’ve talked about so far. Knowing that I’m not letting him down, that he is all in, even through what has to be the worst part of my life. Hearing him admit that he didn’t do it just for some romanticized idea of the girl he used to know, but because he still wants me, even as I am, helps me get through the next few days of my withdrawal.

  Cedric

  If I thought things were bad before with Evelyn fighting her addiction, it was nothing compared to what fate had in store for us.

  Rita had an appointment with her new nephrologist two days after Isobel came to check in on Evelyn. During the visit, the doctor said he was concerned about her fluid retention, rapid heartbeat and dizziness. In fact, he was so concerned that he admitted her to the hospital to run more tests.

  Unfortunately, the diagnosis was grave. Rita had cardiomyopathy and was spiraling toward heart failure at an alarming rate. The one good thing to come out of her worsening condition was that she was moved up the transplant list.

  The only problem? The doctor wasn’t sure if Rita would make it unless a donor kidney came soon, like within a few weeks.

  “What are the chances of a kidney actually coming through?” I ask the doctor as I catch up to him in the hospital corridor. He had just left Rita’s room after his afternoon rounds, and Evelyn was still sitting with her. “Not knowing is driving us crazy.”

  “I wish I had better news on that front, I really do,” the doctor replies. “At any given time, there are around one hundred thousand patients awaiting kidney transplants. We always encourage our patients to make sure they have their affairs in order. There are just never enough donors to help everyone.”

  “How many do actually get transplants, doc? Be level with me here,” I insist.

  With a heavy sigh, the doctor looks me straight in the eyes. “About twenty people die each day waiting for a transplant. If we’re lucky, across the entire country, we might do thirty to forty thousand transplants in a really good year. With the number of patients we have waiting, well…you can figure up the odds yourself. In Rita’s case, with her age and comorbidities, and especially since her blood type is O, I’m afraid a direct donation transplant would be her best hope.”

  Evelyn had told me years ago that her mother’s blood type was a huge hurdle. Type O organs can be donated to anyone; but if you’re an O, you can only receive an exact match. Evelyn is type A and I’m a B, so we were both useless to her.

  “Son, listen,” the doctor continues. “Her condition is extremely critical, and I’ve got her moving up the list to receive a kidney. We’re doing everything humanly possible to get her through this. I don’t know if you’re a religious man, but we can send the chaplain by if you’d like to pray with him.”

  “Yeah, do that,” I agree. “I’m not too religious, I guess, but it might make Rita feel better. Thanks, doc, for all you’re doing,” I tell him with a heavy sigh as I turn to go back to her room. Before I can get to the door, Evelyn practically runs into me coming out.

  “She’s asleep,” she whispers as she gently pulls the door closed behind her.

  “Doc says they’ve got her moving up the transplant list,” I reply, filling her in on the rest of the conversation. As I’m talking, Evelyn hangs her head; and when I move in to try to hug her, she jerks away from me.

  “Ev? What’s going on baby?” I ask in confusion, as she suddenly glares at me, her jaw clenched in anger.

  “This is our fault. You know that, don’t you, Cedric? We never should have moved her back up here. It was too much for her to take.”

  “Ev, we don’t know that…” I try to argue lamely, my heart breaking from her putting the blame on me.

  “I know it!” she snaps at me. “You can see how much worse she has gotten, how she’s deteriorating! This isn’t a coincidence, Cedric! God, I was so fucking stupid, so caught up in what I wanted, so happy to see you again…we did this to her,” she mutters as her shoulders slump, her body practically sinking in on itself.

  “Ev, that’s not true. You’re not thinking right, and you’re letting all this guilt eat you up inside. This is not your fault, all right?”

  “Yes, Cedric, it is. I pray to God this transplant comes through for her,” she says, then shakes her head and swipes at the tears that have begun to trickle from the corners of her eyes. “Christ, listen to me. I’m praying that someone dies, so my mother can live. This is so fucking impossible.”

  “Ev, I…is there anything I can do or…” I trail off weakly.

  “Just take me home Cedric,” she sighs in defeat as she wraps her arms around herself and marches down the hall away from m
e. “Just take me home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Evelyn

  I’ve been lying in bed for hours trying to get to sleep. It’s always harder for me when Cedric is working his night shift in the surveillance room. When my phone suddenly lights up and dings, I sit up immediately and snatch it off of the nightstand, terrified it might be my mother having a crisis. The message that shows up is almost worse.

  Lowell: Time to come back to me.

  “Oh God, no,” I mutter, staring at the screen in horror. I debate not replying at all, but knowing that he’s out there, lurking somewhere, is more terrifying than ignoring him.

  Me: I thought you were in jail.

  Maybe he just has access to a cell phone in there, somehow. Before that thought can even begin to comfort me, my phone dings again.

  Lowell: Now I’m out and your ass is mine, WIFE.

  This is what I feared the most. That he would make bail and come right back, determined to claim me for himself. Before I can think of anything to say or to threaten him with, I’ve typed out:

  Me: My mom is in the hospital.

  His reply is again almost instant.

  Lowell: Sorry babe but you never should’ve left me. Come back so I can take care of you and I won’t kill your little fuck boy.

  When I finish reading his last message, I hurl the phone away from me, the spasm of pure revulsion in my arm sending it flying across the room.

  He couldn’t do it, could he? Hurt Cedric again?

  Who am I kidding? I know what Lowell is capable of doing. I’ve seen it firsthand.

  Sitting on the edge of bed, I rock myself back and forth, the anxiety and fear building up inside me, and overshadowing it all, the horrible, all-consuming NEED. God, I need to get high so badly, to get this pressure out of my head, this weight off of my chest. I would do anything to keep Cedric safe and to just make this pain go away. Anything for a moment of respite from the constant, nagging agony.