Slowly, I ascended the staircase, following the sounds of voices. At the end of the hall, a door was open and I walked towards it, quickly realizing it was filled to the brim with people standing around and laughing.
I got to the door and froze. Many of the faces were familiar, but I couldn’t put names to them. Beautiful faces from television and movies.
But the one that I did see that I recognized was exactly what I was looking for.
My heart soared when I saw her.
Standing at the back edge of the crowd, Pepper was laughing and smiling and pointing. I turned my head to see what everyone was laughing at and was shocked to see Artie Paige tied spread eagle on the bed, his shriveled up wiener and balls being cupped roughly by a gorgeous woman.
“What the fuck…” I whispered to myself and the ladies turned when they saw me.
“Storm!” Pepper cried out. She rushed over to me, throwing her arms around my neck.
“Hey, babe,” I said, grabbing her arms and looking her up and down. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “I’m sorry I left the way I did. I’m fine.”
I nodded, trying to take in the weird-as-fuck scene in front of me.
“Dude!” Artie cried from the bed once he realized another guy was there. “You gotta help me! These bitches are fucking crazy, man!”
I looked around the room, taking in the faces of the women I’d seen in so many different roles, and I could only guess what a man like Artie Paige had done to them.
“Please, man, please!” Artie cried out. “I have money! I can pay you! Get me out of here!”
I shook my head slowly, my gaze meeting his finally. I walked up to him, looking down at his fearful eyes.
“Nah, dude. You sowed your own seeds,” I scoffed, looking down at him with a pathetic sneer.
I turned back to Pepper and kissed her firmly on the lips.
“I’ll be waiting for you outside. Take your time.”
“Dude!” Artie begged.
“Enjoy the fruits of your labor, you fucking prick,” I called out behind me as I walked out.
Artie’s muffled cries and the women’s voices echoed behind me.
“Now, as I was saying, we can do chemical castration, or surgical castration, Artie. Your choice. If I were you, though, I’d choose the drugs. Less blood. Less risk of death. Either way, you’re still going to jail. Every one of us is pressing charges against you, not to mention the fact you tried to kill your wife. But, since we don’t entirely trust the justice system, we’re going to take care of things our way first.”
“You bitches!” Artie cried.
Laughter followed his cries.
“So, which is it going to be, Artie? The drugs or the knife?”
Epilogue
PEPPER
One Month Later
New York smelled the same as I remembered. After fifteen years, though, nothing looked the same.
I certainly wasn’t the same person as when I’d left.
Leaving New York meant leaving so many parts of me behind.
The optimistic parts. The joyful parts. The girl with the open heart, who loved everyone and everything.
Most of that died when Pop died and what didn’t die then, slowly turned hard and cold once I saw what Hollywood was really all about.
It was all for my own protection.
But now that I was back, the glossy rain reflecting the endless neon signs as I walked hand and hand with Storm down the street, I felt a little bit of all those things I’d lost slowly coming back to me.
Happiness was an everyday feeling now.
So was love and safety.
Joy had gripped my hardened heart and massaged it into a pliable lump of mush. Storm’s love had left no room for misery. The support of Grace and Lucky and the Gods had left me brimming with happiness.
Yes, my worst nightmare had happened.
I’d gone soft.
And yet, somehow, I didn’t mind it one bit.
“I hope she’s home,” I said to Storm.
“I guess we’ll find out,” he said. He’d turned out to be the most supportive partner and friend I could have asked for.
Once I finally walked out of Artie’s house — who chose the drugs, by the way, in case you were curious — and back into Storm’s arms, he’d barely let me go for a second. And just like before, he didn’t ask questions I didn’t want to answer about what had happened. He didn’t blame me. And when I apologized again for leaving, he said he simply understood and probably would have done the same.
I spent the next month at the clubhouse, basking in the love and support all the people — and the critters — provided. I’d inhaled so much fresh dewy air that I was pretty sure my skin was going to turn to moss.
Somehow, along the way, I’d found the family I’d been missing.
Trust was something I was getting used to accepting. Working on giving it had proven to not be so easy, but I was working on that, too. Storm’s patience had proven essential in that regard.
Storm and I walked up to a low stoop and I stopped, taking a deep breath before walking up and knocking on the door. The moment’s wait was excruciating but once I heard the fall of faint footsteps, a huge smile spread across my face.
The door flung open and the woman standing there looked at me with curiosity.
“Yes?” she asked, her voice cracking with age.
“Esther?” I asked. Riot and I had poured through hundreds of DMV photos looking for Esther in the last few weeks. The fact that she was standing in front of me now was no small feat.
“Yes, that’s me, dear,” she said. “Can I help you?”
I could hardly breathe as the words tumbled out.
“My name is Pepper Zappala —.”
“Zappala!” Esther interrupted. “I know that name!”
“Yes, my father, Mario —.”
“Mario was your father?” she cried. “Oh, honey, please come in, please…”
She stepped aside, ushering us both in before closing the door.
I turned back to her and took her in. She was dressed in a pink floral housecoat and slippers, her grey hair hanging loose around her weathered face. She was absolutely beautiful, her eyes shining brightly back at me. Her apartment was warm and cozy and smaller than the bathroom in my apartment in Los Feliz.
“You look just like your father!” she said. “Mario was such a good friend to me. Can I get you some tea? I just made some.”
“Sure,” I said, Storm and I sitting down on her couch after she gestured for us to do so. She came back with two cups and sat them in front of us.
“How is your father, dear? I’ve tried to find him for years.”
“I’m sorry, Esther, he passed away,” I said, gently. “About fifteen years ago.”
Her face fell, sadness washing over her eyes. “That was about the last time I saw him, I believe…”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her he died just moments after seeing her last.
“He was a wonderful, wonderful man,” she said. “He helped me out in a big way, when I needed it the most.”
“I remember,” I said. “I was there.”
“Oh, yes, you were, weren’t you? I was a little shaken up that night,” she said, her eyes distant for a moment before turning back to us. “But why are you here, dear? What can I do for you?”
“Esther, I’m here to help you, actually, if you’ll let me.”
“Help me? How so, dear?”
I pulled up a picture on my phone and showed it to her.
“Oh, what a lovely home,” she said.
“It is lovely,” I said. “It’s in upstate New York. In the Adirondacks. It’s on a few acres of land and has a gorgeous little creek running through it.”
“Oh, my,” she said, as I flipped through the photos.
“It’s yours, Esther,” I said.
She froze, looking at me in confusion. “What was that, dear?”
“I bough
t it for you.”
“I - I don’t understand,” she said.
“I know this is weird,” I replied, flashing her a smile to reassure her. “I know I just showed up out of the blue. But I’ve come into some money and my father thought the world of you. I never forgot the look on your face when he ran into you that night. I wanted to do something to honor him and this is what he would have wanted. For me to help someone who deserves it. If he could have helped you out more at the time, I know he would have. So, I want to do this, because I can. For him. I’ve also bought you a new car. And…not to be presumptuous, of course, but I’ve opened a bank account that I’d like to transfer into your name with five million dollars sitting in it.”
She jumped up, her eyes filled with bewilderment.
“Child, what are you saying?” she cried. I jumped up after her, gently grabbing her hands.
“It’s okay, Esther, it really is,” I insisted.
Riot had found me a buyer, and I’d sold the diamonds for seventy-five million dollars. I divided most of it between all the women Artie had assaulted, Bea included, and donated a large portion to the Gods. After keeping a million for myself, I saved the rest to give to Esther. Artie had never said another word about them, having been much more focused on staying alive and keeping his balls.
Dr. Larsen had given Artie the first dose of his treatment right there that night, and made him sign a written agreement stating he would continue them when they wore off in a few years. In exchange for that, Artie got to stay alive.
He was currently being held in the county jail awaiting trial for numerous assaults and the attempted murder of Tulsa.
Seemed like a fair deal to me.
“I want to do this for you,” I said, smiling down at Esther “It’s just as much for me as it is for you, Esther. Please accept.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she said, her eyes searching mine. My heart swelled with joy knowing her entire life had just changed.
“Just say yes.”
“Well, my, who in their right mind could turn down a gift like that, my dear?”
“That’s wonderful,” I gushed, pulling her into my arms for a long hug. A warm wave of peace washed over me and I felt Pop’s presence fill my heart. He’d be proud of me right now and I could almost see him smiling down on me.
Love’s a funny thing.
Once you get a taste of it, you just want more.
And once it gets under your skin, it seeps in and colors everything you see and everything you do, until you can’t help but spread it around everywhere you go.
I looked over Esther’s shoulder at Storm, his gaze meeting mine, both of our eyes filled with the joy of knowing we’d done the right thing.
I’d stolen Artie’s diamonds thinking they were going to provide me with a safety net, a new life. Instead, from the consequences of that one small act, I’d been given the wings and freedom that come with an open, loving heart.
My plans for the future were unfolding quickly. Bea and I planned to rent a cabin near the clubhouse, both of us ready to get out of the city.
And I was ready to find out exactly what it felt like to let someone love me, and to love someone back.
That night, as Storm and I walked back to our hotel, the misty rain falling in our hair, I knew that the gift I’d been given was much more valuable than any diamond or dollar could ever provide.
“I love you, babe,” Storm said, his hand firmly grasping mine.
He turned me towards him, kissing me gently, and pulling me close, his warm and loving embrace reminding me that by letting go of the hustle, I’d finally won the game.
THE END
About the Author
Honey Palomino lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two hilarious dogs.
She’s best known for her Gods of Chaos Motorcycle Club Series, which follows a group of golden-hearted bikers on their journey to help people get out of troubling situations when they can’t turn to traditional resources for help.
Most days, she can be found sitting under the towering pines in her backyard and dreaming of twisty new plots to entice her readers with.
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THE HUSTLE: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK FOURTEEN) Page 17