Phoenix Rising Rock Band: The Series

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Phoenix Rising Rock Band: The Series Page 112

by Kathryn C. Kelly


  “I ain’t even got the heart to fuckin’ tell the motherfucker how the fuck you wanna fuck him over. That would fuckin’ hurt too fuckin’ much. Hatin’ me one fuckin’ thing. I fuck you up, he ain’t ever fuckin’ forgivin’ me. But if he ended up hatin’ your miserable fuckin’ ass? And the reason he’d fuckin’ hate you? Ain’t lettin’ him go through that fuckin’ pain. Ever. Ain’t no fuckin’ betrayal worse than a fuckin’ family member fuckin’ you in the ass.”

  “Please,” I rasp, breathing heavy. “I’m sorry. D-don’t kill me.”

  “Can’t fuckin’ let you fuckin’ live. All the fuck you gonna do is fuck him up any-fuckin-way.”

  “I swear I won’t. I’d already changed my mind. Even before you arrived. I realized the mistake I made.”

  He kicks my knee and I shudder. Tears form in my eyes. Pain sweeps my body and the fear that I’m about to die sends another tremble through me.

  “Imagine my fuckin’ disappointment and surprise when I get a fuckin’ report tellin’ me Kiln Mason hired Sean.”

  There’s my out. I seize upon it. “My name’s Kiln Dalton.”

  Outlaw freezes. I think he’s bought the story until he maneuvers himself next to me, crouches down, and presses his forearm against my neck. “You a funny motherfucker, huh? Thinkin’ to play my fuckin’ ass.”

  I grab at his arm, trying to dislodge it. He doesn’t budge. My legs are flailing and my breath is leaving my body. Then, just as I think I’m dead, he pulls away, stands, and kicks my shoulder.

  “Besides bein’ a pussy-ass, jealous motherfucker, why you wanna off Sloane?” Outlaw circles me again like a shark on the hunt.

  My throat is throbbing, tears leak from my eyes and spit dribbles down my chin. However, I have to answer Outlaw. “My mother,” I manage on a sniffle. “Want her happy. Only if Sloane dead.” I can’t speak whole sentences. It takes too much energy. Causes too much pain.

  Outlaw freezes near my feet. “What the fuck you say?”

  I blink at the ceiling. “M-mother want Sloane d-d-dead.”

  “Lemme get this fuckin’ straight. Your ma told you to off Sloane so she’d be happy.”

  I just assumed the last part, but that was the gist of it. I nod.

  “Fuck me,” he mumbles. “What the fuck is it with crazy fuckin’ mas?”

  He isn’t talking to me, so I say nothing.

  “Get the fuck up. Both you motherfuckers.”

  I want to stay right the fuck where I’m at and suffer in misery. I’m not stupid enough to fuck up with Outlaw yet again, so, with effort and more sniffles, I drag myself to my hands and knees, then crawl to the nearest chair. As I climb up and struggle to sit, Cash lands on another chair with a grunt. Covertly, I wipe the tears from my eyes.

  “I’m well-fuckin-acquainted with crazy mas. Megan ma was a fuckin’ loon. John Boy wife ma was a fuckin’ crazy cunt. Cash stepma was so fuckin’ gone, she fuckin’ hung her-fuckin-self. My own ma kinda fucked over one of my lil’ sisters. Val ma was a fuckin’ drug addict and whore who made the motherfucker film her fuckin’ when he was a lil’ motherfucker. So, yeah, I know ‘bout fucked-up mas.” He drums his fingers against his thigh. “You ain’t only put that hit out on Sloane cuz of your ma, motherfucker. You fuckin’ did it cuz you always feel fuckin’ second best to him. The fuckin’ sad part? He think you two motherfuckers equal. He don’t fuckin’ see you be-fuckin-low him. You see your own fuckin’ ass that way.”

  “M-mother wanted the hit,” I insist, tasting my own blood.

  “Your ma was the fuckin’ catalyst for what the fuck you been wantin’ to do, assfuck, so shut the fuck up. Cuz if she only wanted the hit and you didn’t fuckin’ wanna do it, you coulda locked her ass a-fuckin-way a-fuckin-gain.” He snorts. “And you the motherfucker sayin’ my Megan manipulatin’ me? Sound to me like your fuckin’ Ma manipulated your dumb ass like a regular motherfucker.”

  “A regular motherfucker as opposed to a special one?” Cash asks with slight laughter.

  Outlaw lights another cigarette. “Ima say what the fuck I know. Inter-fuckin-rupt if I got my facts fucked up.” He stares at me. “Under-fuckin-stand?”

  “Y-yes.” If I keep still, my body doesn’t feel so broken and swollen.

  “First, you fuckin’ hit up Cash for a fuckin’ hit man. The stupid motherfucker didn’t ask who the fuck you wanted to ice? For all he fuckin’ knew, it coulda been for my fuckin’ ass.”

  Outlaw glares at him. Puffs his cigarette. Cash doesn’t say a word.

  “Next, your fuckin’ dumb ass thought you fuckin’ somehow would kill Sloane, usin’ a club contact, and get the fuck away with it?”

  I’m silent as a mouse. Yeah, I thought I could outsmart them. I thought it would be as easy as going to Europe and losing myself.

  “You do fuckin’ know I’da found you?” Outlaw asks.

  I didn’t then. I’m still skeptical he could’ve outmaneuvered me after the crime. Still, I stay quiet.

  “Mean-fuckin-while, you meet fuckin’ Raine at some fuckin’ point. I ain’t too sure ‘bout this part, since Georgiana told Cash and then the motherfucker relayed it to my ass. Sean fuckin’ wanted Raine on his fuckin’ payroll, yeah? As a fuckin’ whore? She said fuck off, then he sent two motherfuckers after her? I got that shit straight so fuckin’ far?”

  I nod. I won’t expel my energy talking if I don’t have to.

  “And you sent Sean the fuck away. He ain’t Sloane almost-assassin no more?”

  Fuck. I wait for him to bring up….FUCK!

  Montana.

  “From what the fuck I understand, Raine scared of Sean.”

  I breathe a little easier. Maybe, he doesn’t know Montana’s alive.

  “Sean known for fuckin’ up girls,” he says.

  That’s the story circulating. I call myself, remembering I still have time. That’s why I left a message for Montana to call me before I came out to greet Outlaw. We’re still hours away from the time the hit is supposed to take place. What could go wrong? By then, I would’ve called him off.

  “Raine don’t fuckin’ know his bitch, Gloria, a woman killer, too?”

  The statement surprises a cough from me.

  Outlaw comes to me and thrusts his face into mine. We’re nose-to-nose. “I told you, motherfucker. I find shit out. Test me all the fuck you wanna. What motherfuckers don’t tell my ass, I figure the fuck out cuz I know motherfuckers.”

  Seeing I’m sufficiently nonplussed, he backs away.

  “There’s a motherfucker name Chambers. Raine pimp. The way she fuckin’ got to you is to save her fuckin’ brother from this Chambers motherfucker?”

  There’s a question in his tone. He must’ve gotten this as second-hand information from Cash.

  “Raine brother a motherfucker name Montana, yeah? She think the motherfucker pushin’ up his fuckin’ cock, buried somewhere?”

  “In pieces,” Cash supplies.

  “Yeah, what the fuck he said.” Outlaw takes a few more puffs of his cigarette. “This Montana motherfucker really alive, though. Something Raine don’t know.” He gives me an evil grin. “Maybe, I need to tell her what the fuck you know and let her fuck you up. Cuz from what the fuck I seen, she a tough bitch with a fuckin’ temper.”

  Raine would want to kill me.

  “You need a tough bitch,” he says, surprising me. “A girl closer to your age. Me, motherfucker? I need Megan. She talk me down when I’m fuckin’ outta hand. She know I pull my piece, a motherfucker dyin’. But she don’t fuckin’ pull her pussy lockout card for any motherfucker. Just family and friends. Just long e-fuckin-nuff for my ass to get some sense back into my fuckin’ head. She know what the fuck she doin’, so don’t you ever, for however fuckin’ long I letcha fuckin’ live, question her methods. Ever. You fuck with Megan, you flirt with death. Hear me?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Back to this Montana motherfucker. Instead of findin’ a fuckin’ way to take care of his lil’ sister, he let her sell
her pussy?”

  I frown as the statement sinks in. Outlaw doesn’t need encouragement to continue.

  “Motherfucker less than a fuckin’ man doin’ some shit like that.” He releases another sigh and rubs the back of his neck. “But I think Megan like this bitch and this bitch love her brother…fuck it…But…fuck…fuck…motherfucker…assfuck… In between variations of his favorite word, are unintelligible phrases. “He gotta die, too,” he declares finally, reaching this conclusion after holding a conversation with himself.

  “N-no.” My protest is weak.

  “Montana on Sean payroll. A hired fuckin’ gun. That mean he gotta be fuckin’ up the girls, too. Ain’t havin’ that. I might call girls bitches and shit, but ain’t no motherfucker hurtin’ a woman and gettin’ the fuck away with it, if I know ‘bout it.”

  “Montana was on Sean’s payroll.” The words vibrate through my body and I shudder. I want to curl up and never move again.

  Outlaw sidles a glance at me, giving no indication he heard. “Sean broke the rules of our fuckin’ agreement. Motherfucker in my network to distribute and he fuckin’ up women? That shit ain’t fuckin’ flyin’. That’s fuckin’ why I put my girl on the back of my bike and blazed the fuck down here. Coulda sent Mort. He the enforcer, but this so fuckin’ serious, I gotta fuck Sean up my-fuckin-self.”

  None of this explains how he discovered my role in this matter.

  The menace in his eyes chills me. “You get to live, motherfucker. Ima still stomp the fuck outta you on Megan behalf, but I got more important shit to do. Cash, you his baby-fuckin-sitter, ‘til I hunt down Sean and Montana and the two fuckheads who fucked up Raine. Johnnie and Mort gonna head in other directions to pick off all Sean associates.” He scratches his jaw. “This Gloria bitch gonna be a fuckin’ problem, though. She fuckin’ up girls but she a fuckin’ girl, too, so what the fuck we supposed to do with her?”

  The question is rhetorical because he moves to the next stage. He paces for a minute, then seems to come to a conclusion. Once he replaces his gun in the holster on his leg, he heads to the door and opens it. The hallway is empty, but I can hear the rumble of voices in the background.

  “Sloane!” Outlaw calls.

  A moment later, Sloane and all the rest of the men troop back in. Cash and I are beat to fuck.

  “Oh, snap,” Digger says. “Better you two fucks then me.”

  “Shut the fuck up, fool,” Mortician orders. “This was you a couple years ago.”

  “Not fair, Mort,” Digger tells him. “You don’t have to put a man’s business in the street.”

  “You’ve worked everything out to your satisfaction?” Sloane asks with hope.

  “Nope. Cash keepin’ watch on Kiln, ‘til I get who the fuck I came for. Me and my boys fannin’ out to catch some woman killers on my payroll.”

  Sloane’s eyes widen and he looks at me.

  “Ain’t him,” Outlaw says quickly. “But he did get on my wrong fuckin’ side, so I gotta do what the fuck I gotta do. Un-fuckin-less I get anymore surprises, he gonna still be breathin’ when I ride out.”

  “It’s already after five,” Sloane starts. “Can we just have a nice, relaxing evening with our women? They want to help Zelda cook for us.”

  Outlaw shrugs. “Fuckin’ fine with me. Megan gonna like that. I gotta show her this motherfucker still alive any-fuckin-way.”

  Grimacing, Cash stands. “Can a couple of you assfucks drag Kiln to his suite? I have to play babysitter, so we might as well start.”

  Cash’s look isn’t nice. My only consolation is he’s as fucked up as me. I doubt he’ll handcuff me, so I intend to slip a few pills into his drink later on, to knock him out. I can’t drive—fuck I can barely live—but I’ll call Montana to tell him I’ve changed my mind. He also needs a warning that Outlaw is on the hunt.

  I’m sorry if he’s killed women on Sean’s behalf. But Montana is Raine’s brother. If he ever decides to re-enter her life, he has to be alive to do so.

  I’m determined to save my brother from my stupidity and save Montana from Outlaw’s wrath.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  My heart is in my throat as I await Meggie’s return. We hadn’t been upstairs for very long before the woman got a text and she took off running, throwing over her shoulder, “I have to stop Christopher from killing Kiln.”

  I wanted to run after her, but Georgie stopped me. She made me see to Chance while she took care of Bryn. I appreciate the sparsity of conversation but I so resent her for keeping me from Kiln. She didn’t say she was doing that, per se. However, when I started to follow Meggie, Georgie touched my arm and told me she needed my help with the kids.

  If I had ignored her, would she had pressed the issue? This is my job. However, Kiln is…is…whatever to me. I’m concerned about him.

  Now, as Meggie returns to Bryn’s nursery, Georgie lifts a brow at her.

  “Everything’s fine,” she says.

  Yeah, for her. But me? Not so much.

  I shove blocks at Chance and hop to my feet. My actions draws Georgie’s attention away from the book she and Bryn are reading. The little girl is so smart. She’s two and a half, but she’s potty-trained, independent, and able to read simple books.

  I dust my ass off, though unnecessary. The room, like the house, is spotless.

  “It’s fine for you, but not for me,” I grit out to Meggie, then turn to Georgie. “Why did you stop me from going after her? Was it just to remind me of my place in your household?”

  Wow! That’s uncalled for. As my brain catches up to my words, I wince.

  Meggie sits on the floor and starts to play with Chance. Meanwhile, Georgie’s mouth has thinned and her eyes narrowed.

  “I can say a helluva lot to you, Raine,” she starts, allowing Bryn to squirm away and crawl to Chance and Meggie. “Including you’re fired. I’m not this time, but you have to stop with these outbursts, especially in front of guests.”

  “About that,” Meggie adds. “I didn’t appreciate the way you talked to my husband. It has nothing to do with your “position”—she uses air quotations—“in the house. It’s because I allow no one to insult him. I remained silent so I wouldn’t add fuel to his fire. However, you must admit some of the questions you asked me were quite personal and, frankly, not your business. At least, until I knew you a little better.”

  “Yet you answered me,” I point out.

  She shrugs. “It’s no secret who my kids belong to, but your assumption that I had children for more than one man really wasn’t called for. I understand you’ve met bikers before. Not all clubs are the same, though. You need to remember that.”

  “You have a bad habit of insulting men,” Georgie tells me, leaving no clue to how she feels about that. “You insulted Sloane within minutes of meeting him.”

  The two women look at me, waiting for…well, fuck, I’m not going to pretend I don’t know what it is. They want me to apologize. Hands on hips, I rock on my heels and sigh. “I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

  They exchange glances, further leaving me out of the loop. Not that I give a fuck. Let them have their stupid secrets and look down on me.

  “Raine, I don’t want to hear anything from you that you don’t mean,” Georgie says. “If you apologized because you think that’s what we wanted to hear, keep it.”

  “Well, isn’t it?” I throw back, still not ready to drop my attitude. Damn it, if I’m not a little lost around these women. “As your employee who insulted your guests?”

  “Whether you like it or not, you do work for me,” she says firmly. “I think we’re becoming great friends and I see you as no less when I need you to do something. I’m not trying to humiliate you or make you feel beneath me—you aren’t.”

  I scoff. “Aren’t I?”

  Shit! Fail on my part. Kiln pisses me the fuck off when he acts like an asshole. Now, I’m acting like not only an asshole but a raging bitch.

  “I’m sorry. That was
uncalled for,” I say quickly, and I mean it. “I’m just so used to women turning on me or competing with me.”

  “Betraying you,” Meggie says in a gentle tone.

  I nod.

  “I thought giving you a position on my staff would give you freedom from Kiln,” Georgie continues. “You can still be his mistress, I’m sure. Then, you’ll be my friend without your job getting in the way, Raine. There are times when I’ll be entertaining when you’ll have to be with the kids. Or times when I’m on a photo shoot. Or with my husband. Or any number of things. I would hate for you to feel slighted or as if I’ve abandoned our friendship. Abandoned you.”

  The last thing I’ll ever, in my life, is admit to how unwanted I felt, as a child. That’s a deep pain I’ve buried in me. One that cuts into me. I know what Montana went through to save me from my stepfather, but I still received beatings at his hands.

  I wave away Georgie’s words. “I have never felt like anyone abandoned me,” I lie. My mother did—years ago. I never knew my father, so fuck his ass. “And you’re right. I work for you. I’ve been so out-of-line.”

  We all know that.

  “Do you want to work as my nanny?” Georgie asks, cocking her head to the side.

  “Yes,” I say quietly. “It makes me independent. If I am relying on Kiln for money, then I’m subject to his whims.” Just like she’d said days ago.

  Georgie nods, and we fall silent, focusing on the kids. Every now and then, Georgie or Meggie says a few words. I stay quiet. I really, truly don’t know what to do. Once again, who I am is on the line. I only know how to be me and me doesn’t have the best filter. If I join in the conversation, I might say something I shouldn’t.

  Heading to Bryn’s white clothes chest, I open the drawer containing her onesies. She must have a hundred, in every color and with all types of sayings. An image of my mom, sober, flashes through my mind. She had a way of folding clothes. She’d roll the towels and T-shirts that went in drawers.

  Maybe, Georgie will allow me to fold the children’s clothes in the same manner. Restless, I roam to Bryn’s walk-in closet, and flip on the light. It’s pink and white, like her bedroom, and is filled with all sorts of designer baby clothes and shoes.

 

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