Sandman's Awakening: Twisted Iron MC

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Sandman's Awakening: Twisted Iron MC Page 12

by Liberty Parker


  “Don’t mind if I do.” She flops down on my bed. “Merc is being such a tit-bag. I had to get out of our room before I completely lose my shit on him. The gnawing of words were riding my last nerve making me want to blow my damn brains out.” She holds her hand up, making a gun symbol, placing it up to her temple and efficiently pulls the make-believe trigger.

  “Do I even want to know?” Joining her on the bed, I turn my head in her direction to show her I’m all ears because I know she’s come in here to vent.

  “Just lecturing me on being a ‘proper’ mother and not being a bad influence on others. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.” She rolls her eyes blows out a deep breath. “Since he’s become a dad, he’s boring and predictable. I miss the man I met and fell in love with.”

  “You still love him and he adores you. What’s this really about?” I ask her.

  “I knew I wasn’t going to be all motherly and shit.” Her head and the rest of her body falls back onto the bed as she blows out a frustrated breath. “I was raised by shit-kicking hellions and they smoked weed and fucked women in front of me. What am I going to teach a baby? Mercenary makes me feel like a shit mom. I hate that feeling. I love Melodi, she’s my life and since having her I know I’ve changed. But does it really make me an improper mother if I want her to be able to sleep without being held? It feels important to me that she learns to adapt to the noise around her. If not, she’ll never rest around this rowdy group of men.” I can see that she’s taking everything in a negative way and Merc’s words have really upset her.

  “Merc has never had to worry about anyone other than himself. Then you came along and threw a wrench into his future plans. And if falling in love wasn’t enough, you’ve made him a father; giving him the job of protecting a newborn. You are a great mom, Harmony. You really are, you need to give yourself more credit than you have. Not everyone mothers the same way. Some mothers are overbearing and smother their kids. That’s not the kind of mom that club kids grow up with. We raise our kids to be strong, independent and thinkers. Mel will grow up with you having her back but not controlling her emotional growth. Your dad and the guys always let you learn your lessons yourself while protecting you from afar. Those are the best things you can teach your little girl in my opinion. You’ve got this, Harmony. Don’t let anyone make you feel less than you are. Even that stubborn, protective husband of yours. Just remember, he needs an adjustment period with all of these changes, too. Give him some time, then kick him in the ass if he takes too long.”

  “I just don’t want to be a disappointment to her,” she quietly expresses.

  “You never could be,” I state matter-of-factly. “You’re a great friend, sister, wife and mother, Outlaw. And fuck anyone who says differently.” Her shoulders shake in silent laughter at my vehemence. She’s a woman in a league of her own, no one has the right to judge her or her choices. I always know I can count on her when it matters the most.

  “Let’s go have some coffee.” She jumps up from the bed and heads to the door.

  “I’ll throw on some clothes and be right behind you.”

  “Thanks, Aria,” she turns her head over her shoulder and says to me.

  “Always, my badass sister and friend.” She smiles at me, and I know that at least for now, all is right in her world.

  When I’m finished dressing and ready to face the day, I look at myself in the mirror and don’t even recognize the woman staring back at me. I look sad, almost depressed. I silently vow to myself right here and now, that I won’t allow others to define me. I will be my own person and start moving forward in my life. Standing stagnant is no fun, I’m not going to hide out in this clubhouse anymore.

  I’m going to find a job, possibly my own place if things don’t change between Hawke and myself, and find that piece of me that’s still missing.

  12

  Aria

  Pulling out my laptop, I search my emails to see if I’ve had any bites on my online job applications. Three weeks! It’s been that long since I vowed to myself that I’d move on with life if things didn’t change between Hawke and myself. I’m fed up with his treatment of me. He’s only here at night when I crawl into bed. I fall asleep every night wrapped in his arms, only to wake the next day and him already being gone. Hell, sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and he’s gone. And, every day I give him every opportunity to let me in, but he denies me.

  Every single time I ask him where he’s spending his days, he incites ‘club business’ and it takes all of my self-control to not claw his eyes out. I haven’t eaten a meal with him in that amount of time and any time I ask the guys about it they either brush me off, or ignore my questions all together. I’ve had enough and am ready to move forward with my well thought out plans. My phone call with my parents had them agreeing to help me get into my own place, they love Hawke, admire him even, but they love me more and want to see me happy.

  “Yes,” I pump my fist in the air. Dr. Novalee Porter, the town’s most trusted and only veterinarian, has sent me an email requesting a job interview. She’s the only vet in this small town and the only reply I have had to my applications, so this encourages me to make sure I don’t miss the time she’s allotted. Job security is a plus, and no one likes to travel an hour to have their pets seen in another town. Jumping out of the bed, I run over to the closet so I can check my clothing inventory. I need to see if I own anything that’s appropriate to wear.

  I hastily begin to rummage through the hangers and find myself highly disappointed when I realize I don’t even own a pair of slacks or a skirt. I can’t go in wearing a pair of jeans that are laced with holes and gym shoes. I have a very generic closet full of everyday wear. Going back over to the computer, I pull up the site for the local retailer. I’m excited to see that I can order today and have the clothes delivered a day before the interview. I text my mom because I don’t want to ask Hawke for his credit card. She sends me her card information and I begin stocking myself with clothing fit for an interview of this caliber. My plans are to just get an outfit or two, because I’m pretty sure I’ll eventually end up wearing scrubs as work attire, if I get the job. I cross my fingers, close my eyes, and say a quick prayer.

  Mom is going to come and get me tomorrow to go pay six months in advance, plus the deposit required, for my own apartment. Hawke doesn't want me anymore, that’s apparent by his actions and has been shoved in my face daily. As much as this hurts, I’ve decided I’m only going forward in life; no more stagnation or reliving my past. If he wants to keep me at arm’s length, that’s exactly where he can watch me from. My heart sinks at the realization that this is where we ended up after everything we fought through to be together. But if being together means all I get is a warm body to lay next to at night and sex, I’ll pass. A relationship is so much more than that to me.

  Sandman

  Rogue’s called us all into his office this morning, not for church, but just a quick check in.

  Once we’re all piled in, he begins, “Phantom, Merc, last night went well I take it seeing as I never heard a goddamn word about it?”

  Oh, boy. The women we captured the day we found Bobby have been on ice for a few weeks now. Rogue figured it best that they disappear for good to cover all of our bases. They were both hardcore druggies, so they met their demise as humanely as we could possibly manage. A heroin overdose as that was their drug of choice. And, if you wanna get technical, we just gave them the drugs and needles; they injected themselves. Was it more than enough to cause a certain overdose? Yes, yes it was. Merc and Phantom were tasked with dismembering body parts before hauling them to Harker Haven funeral home. George is on our payroll and both owns and runs the funeral home. It’s where most of our victim’s bodies go to be cremated; incinerated to nothing but dust to be swept up and thrown away.

  “Everything went fine, Pres, and according to plan,” Phantom offers up.

  “Harmony was bugging out last night blowing my phone up because Mel was runn
ing a fever; her first fever. Sorry, I was trying to stay focused and calm her down at the same time,” Merc explains.

  “I’m aware of my granddaughter's first cold, Merc. When she couldn’t get a hold of you she blew my phone up. But, I’m sure she’s told you all of this by now. Next time, I expect to be notified. Now, Sandman, this love affair you seem to be having with torturing Bobby probably needs to come to an end, huh? It’s been weeks now and a major distraction for you. That bastard is literally barely clinging to life. Put a fork in it, will ya? Something, because we have club business that needs your attention. And, quite frankly, I’m getting annoyed at the fact that I have to keep lying to Aria.” He folds his arms over his chest as he kicks his heels up onto his desk.

  Mumbles and grumbles are simultaneously echoed throughout the room by the rest of my brothers. “Works for me. His handmade coffin fit perfect to size for him is ready. Like you said, I’ve gotten more than enough out of my time with him and he is on his last peg.”

  “When I left earlier his respirations were extremely weak. He’s mutilated beyond recognition. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if by the time we return he’s either already dead, or in a coma,” Stitches informs me and the rest of the room.

  “Doesn’t surprise me. We’ve all seen at this point just how bad of shape that fucker’s been in for a while now. I’m surprised he even made it this long,” Edge admits.

  “So then it’s settled. Put an end to Bobby today. I know you plan on burying him after giving him a fatal wound to both of his carotids. Normally, I am against leaving any evidence behind, but I’m of the understanding that you, PeeWee, and Stitches are going to be driving to the property your folks once owned to bury his remains?” Rogue inquires.

  “Yes, Pres,” I answer. My piece of shit, abusive father is buried on that land and Rogue knows this. Since it’s now my land, it’s where all the pieces of garbage who have ever crossed me will find themselves. No, I didn’t kill my father, although sometimes I wished it had been me. He was murdered during the attack on the club in its beginning; the same war that took Rogue’s old lady, Aurora, and my own mother. He allowed me once I was grown to have his body excavated from a proper grave and transported to the land. The land that he purchased with a small cabin on it about three hours away from here. The only thing that nobody knows except Rogue, is that’s where he would take us as a getaway; only it always turned ugly. He’d end up so drunk and high that both my mom and I almost always ended up beaten and bruised. Rogue had his suspicions, but my father was a club enforcer and trusted brother. It wasn’t until a few years ago when I wanted to move his remains that I opened up about everything.

  “And knowing how far away this is and the effort required to commit the final act and transport the body undetected, I assume this will be an overnight trip?” he asks, more rhetorically than an actual question.

  “Yes, sir, Pres,” I swiftly answer.

  “Wonderful.” He claps his hands together and stands. “Get it done so we can have you back fulltime, and I’m certain your old lady feels the same.” He approaches me and places his hands on my shoulders. “We’re family and we stick together, but one thing I learned a long time ago but never fully got the chance to express was when you’ve got a good woman, never let her slip away. And by slip away, I mean get so caught up in something so personal that you forget about her. These women are rare and loyal, but they are also strong and independent. Never mistake their ability to put up with our shit as a weakness. Rora left me once for an entire day and I about lost my damned mind. They tolerate a lot from us. Hopefully you understand where I’m going with this?” he finishes.

  “I honestly think I do,” I respond as I begin to have multiple revelations at once. After this is done, Aria and I need to have a serious talk. I owe her that much. Plus, I’m ready to get back to our daily routine.

  Aria

  I’m having the clothes delivered to my parents’ place. Honestly, I’m not ready to tell the other women, my sisters, what I am about to do. The fear that they might slip up and tell one of their old men is enough for me to hold my tongue.

  “Babe,” Hawke calls out as he approaches the room and I quickly close the laptop, grab my nail file from my nightstand and begin to file a nail.

  “Hey,” I nonchalantly reply as he enters the room.

  “Got some club business to tend to for the rest of the day and overnight,” he explains and inwardly I scowl at him. Always club business.

  I let out a heavy exaggerated sigh. At this point I don’t even care anymore that he knows how frustrated I am; because I’m done. “So, you won’t be back until?” I leave my question open-ended for him to answer.

  “Late morning. Possibly early afternoon? Why, you got plans for us?” A grin forms on those lips of his that I sure am gonna miss and my heart drops momentarily before I pull myself together.

  “No, nothing special. Just curious,” I answer, feigning a smile the best I can.

  “Okay, well you know the drill while I’m gone.” He kisses my lips firmly and for a moment it feels like the boy, the man I used to know as Hawke has emerged. “See you tomorrow,” he tells me as he walks away, pulling the door closed behind him and everything we once had, only he isn’t even aware of it yet.

  13

  Sandman

  “Damn, he won’t even make it past the first carotid,” I say to Stitches who nods in agreement after he checks Bobby’s pulse which is almost non-existent.

  “He’s fading fast. Definitely in a coma at the least, but worse. I say we smother the fucker instead of getting ourselves all bloody and creating another mess to clean up. The coffin is wooden, so any blood we spill will creep its way out, creating another mess in the van. But, of course, it’s up to you.” He crosses his arms awaiting my answer.

  “I still vote carotid,” PeeWee tosses out as he takes a bite out of his sandwich.

  A sudden whoosh is heard and we all turn in Bobby’s direction. “What the fuck was that?” I ask, looking at Stitches.

  He checks Bobby for a pulse in several places before announcing, “None of us get our way. Looks like he had the final say. Gone. He’s dead.”

  “That son-of-a-bitch took the easy way out,” PeeWee shakes his head in disappointment. “The cowards always do. Couldn’t hang on five more minutes.”

  “Let’s get him in his burial box and loaded up, boys. We have a long drive ahead of us and a hole to dig. I hate going up to that land, it brings back bad memories, but pieces of shit deserve to be resting eternally together.

  “Isn’t this a job for the prospects?” Stitches asks me.

  “Yep, we’ve got one.” I toss my thumb over my shoulder at PeeWee.

  “You’re not gonna help me lift the motherfucker?” PeeWee jokes with the two of us. “He’s not light, ya know.” He stands up and throws the crust of his sandwich into the garbage can next to him.

  “Would you like me to find a fiddle and play a tune for you?” I mock tease him, strumming an imaginary instrument in the air.

  “Nah, man. I prefer the drums,” he jokes as he makes his way to where Bobby’s lifeless body sits in the chair. “Damn, he looks more fucked-up up close and personal than he did when I was over there.” PeeWee looks over to where he was previously sitting. “I’m feeling a bit thankful that the zoo is enclosed and I’m not the one tasked with their caretaking. So, how do we know where the widows and centipedes went?”

  “We don’t,” I reply.

  “Don’t be a pussy, man, we keep them in aquariums. And, after they’re used for our benefit, they either die or crawl off into the wild. Stone will restock. He fucking loves that shit.” Stitches laughs at the frightened look PeeWee is sporting. “Come on, I’ll help you box our man up.”

  “You make him sound like a gift,” I admonish Stitches. “He’s a piece of shit predator, show his remains no respect.”

  “Lighten up, man, you’re too sensitive. Not everyone's coping mechanisms are the same. I’m a do
ctor, I made an oath to save lives, so if I feel the need to joke and play, I need you to give me that. And before you remind me of the oath I took with this club, I already know that too. I have my own way of finding balance between the two,” Stitches admits.

  It takes a minute for it to set in; I’ve been an asshole to my brothers when all they’ve been trying to do is stand beside me, assisting me with the task of riding the world of this dumb fucking coward. “Sorry, man, I don’t mean to be a prick, but this guy has been the bane of mine and Aria’s existence for so many years now, that I lose sight of others and how they're feeling.”

  “Okay then.” He seems shocked by my apology and change in demeanor. I’m not an easy man, I’m a downright bastard at times, but my brothers are my family, and I need to remember to show them the same respect as they bestow upon me. It’s not easy for me growing up with the man I did, my emotions stay hidden more times than not. Aria is the only one who seems to bring out the other side of me that I keep hidden from the outside world.

  “I’ll help,” I say blowing out a deep breath. “It’s the least I can do.” I get nods from them both and we get down to business.

  “Jesus Christ, man. You need to invest in a backhoe or something,” PeeWee says wiping the sweat from his forehead. “I may have broken my back.” He stands up then bends backwards letting his vertebrae pop.

  “Back breaking labor is good for a person’s soul,” I respond to his whining. “It’ll make a man outta you.”

  “Will it put hair on my chest and all of that shit?” He raises his eyebrows exaggerating his question.

  “Nah, that’s if you eat your green vegetables,” Stitches pipes in.

 

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