by Voss, Deja
“Anyone else want to go talk to him before we get started?” Gavin asks. “Goob?”
My youngest brother shakes his head, his face stoic. He spent so many years looking up to my father, doing anything in his power to impress him, even after he was sent off to a fate worse than mine when he was just a child, but now that he’s sober, it’s obvious he knows the hell that Moses put him through.
“Do we need to try and call Micah?” I ask. My oldest brother hasn’t been around in nearly ten years. He left for the Marines and never looked back. Occasionally, I get a letter from him, but I don’t even know if I could find him if I tried.
“I think he’ll be ok,” Gavin says sadly. “You want to go have one last one-on-one with him, Esther?”
I’m mad at myself because I feel like I should. I can scream until my face turns blue about how this is just a man who hurt the club, this is a man who has spent his whole life hurting me, but he has my eyes. He has my complexion. He probably has a lot more in common with me than I’d like to admit, that side of me I try to suppress because I know it’s nothing but evil.
“I’ll talk to him in front of you all. I have no secrets to hide,” I say. It’ll be easier that way. I might not have any secrets to hide, but hiding behind my club is much easier than trying to face that man alone and all the possible emotions that could come up.
“Then let the records show I will be acting as president today, and Brooks as vice president, unless there are any objections,” Gavin says. “All decisions made today in terms of life or death must be a unanimous vote. All judgements made against Moses Boden are for the crime of theft of club property and embezzlement, and not based on any personal interactions or issues. Keep your feelings in check, guys.”
“You sure you want to go in with us?” Brooks whispers in my ear. “You don’t have to. No one will judge you.” A chill runs down my spine, thinking about the violence I could be about to witness, especially by the hands of these men that I love. I know they are killers, I know they are cold and ruthless when it comes to protecting our club, and that’s what they’ll be doing today.
I pull him in for a quick kiss. I just need to feel him close to me. “Do you not want me to?” I ask, thinking maybe he won’t want me to see him this way, in warrior mode.
“No secrets to hide,” he says to me, running his fingers through my hair.
“Alright,” Gavin says, taking in a deep sigh, closing his eyes, and shaking his fist. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter 43
It’s startling to see him sitting there, duct taped to a chair. It looks like the guys have already worked him over pretty good, his eyes blackened and swollen. He doesn’t even look at me when I walk into the room behind the guys; he just stares at the ceiling like he’s bored. This is not the first time he’s been tied up and interrogated, but never by the hands of his own men. I assumed he would be a little softer when it came to us, a little bit more willing to cooperate, but he’s half smiling. Even bound and helpless, he’s still playing games with us.
The butcher shed is a creepy place, with stainless steel countertops, tile floors with a drain in the middle, and standing freezers everywhere. The things these walls have seen have been atrocities, but it’s one of those places that feed our reputation as those crazy fuckers up on the mountain. No rival gang member wants to find themselves here, let alone one of our own. Yet here we are, my father in the center of the room, completely at our mercy, and acting like he doesn’t care about what this situation implies.
“You want to plead your case?” Gavin asks as the men gather around him in a circle.
“You guys already have your minds made up. I can tell by the way you’re hovering around Esther like she’s some sort of innocent little victim in this whole situation.”
“Don’t bring me into this, Dad. This has nothing to do with me.”
“It has everything to do with you, Esther. If you would’ve just shut your whore legs for a minute and listened to me, I would’ve never had to do this.”
Goob punches him in the stomach, and he gasps for air.
“Sorry,” he mutters to everyone in the room. “Just had to get that out of my system.”
“You’re not listening to me, Father,” I say, my face as close to his as I can possibly stand, the tinny smell of blood coming from his every breath. “This isn’t about you kidnapping me. I don’t need to know your rationale, because I assume you were acting in good faith of the club. I assume you did it for the greater good, no matter how twisted of a reason.”
He laughs, a little bit of blood spraying from the edge of his mouth, grinning through his yellowed teeth.
“There she goes, always the martyr. You got that from your mother, you know.”
“I forgive you, Dad,” I say, as the memories of that time he sent me away wash over me. The memories of how he strung me along all these years, making me think that if I didn’t perform, I would hurt my club. “And mom might have been a martyr, but you made me a loyal Misfit. It’s not about me. It’s never about me. It’s about this mountain, it’s about our freedom, and it’s always about the club.”
“You don’t want to know why I kidnapped you?”
“I have a hunch, mostly because of the note you left for Brooks. You were trying to hurt him. Just like way back when you killed Tanner. Isn’t that right?”
“He’s an outsider. He’s not one of us, and neither was Tanner. They aren’t true legacy. He was poisoning you. He needed to go.” I look into Brooks’s eyes and shake my head, hoping he can feel how strongly I disagree with my dad. His face looks blank. Mean, rough, but emotionless.
“And what about me? If your plan really did work, what were you going to do? Just let me out and think I wouldn’t say a word, that I’d just be ok with it? You obviously didn’t kill me for a reason, even though you had every chance to.”
“I’d never kill my own child. If someone else wanted to, though, for the right price? That’s a different story.” A cold chill runs down my spine. For the second time in twenty-four hours, I’m thankful that Morgan is such a shady loudmouth. “That’s all you’ve ever been good for, child. Buying and selling. I figured I’d get one more big squeeze out of you at least.”
I want to be angry. I want to feel sadness. I want to feel anything other than stoic right now, but I don’t even have an ounce of emotion left to give to him. I step back into the crowd, grabbing Brooks’s hand and holding it tight.
“How ’bout them Tigers, Esther?” he asks, laughing maniacally. He’s trying to get a rise out of me, trying to make me hate him, trying to make me react, and I have nothing. “You’re a lucky man, Brooks. She’s good and brainwashed.”
Brooks just squeezes my hand tighter, and I’m impressed with his silent strength, his ability to keep his mouth shut and let the situation play out like it’s supposed to, without indulging in emotion.
“That’s enough,” Gavin says. “How do you plead to the charges of embezzlement and theft of club property, old man?”
“Fuck you all,” he says. “Just kill me now.”
“I’ll take that as a guilty.” Gavin shrugs. “According to club bylaws, this crime is punishable by death if the vote is unanimous.”
I look around at the men, hanging their heads, holding their breaths, and the silence in the room makes my ears ring. I don’t get a vote, being as I’m not a patched officer, and I’m thankful for that, because I have no idea what mine would be.
“Nay,” Brooks says, before anyone can even speak a word.
Gavin looks at him curiously from across the room. “We’re not going to kill him,” Brooks says. “We’re going to do him one worse. Movement to strip Moses Boden of his patch and excommunicate him from the mountain for all time.”
“You don’t owe me any favors, boy,” my father says to him. “I killed your dad after all, but you know that; you’re just too big of a pussy to call me out. We could’ve been sitting here years ago.”
“Ex
actly,” Brooks says. “You killed my dad. You tried to kill my old lady. You tried to get me to kill myself. You put no value on life. But power? That’s a totally different story, Moses. I don’t want to take your life. That’s too easy. I want you to have to live powerless. I want to take away the only thing that’s important to you. I want to know that you’re spending every day of the rest of your life doing whatever you possibly can to get your power back, and every time you think you’re on to something, every time you think you’re going to make a move, I’ll be right there, waiting to chop you down.”
“All in favor?” Gavin asks.
Nobody opposes.
Nobody really says much else either. Sure, we’re a violent bunch, but Moses was the one who taught us everything we know. Now the teacher is about to be schooled.
Brooks walks to the sink and picks up a canister of lye while Gavin slices open my father’s t-shirt, exposing the giant Misfits tattoo across his chest.
“Esther, go outside,” Gavin barks at me. “Better yet, go home.”
My legs feel heavy and I struggle to breathe, but Heat grabs me around the waist and opens the door, ushering me outside. “You don’t want in on that, do you?” he asks me as we walk through the gravel parking lot, towards the clubhouse.
I hear a loud howl come from the shed, likely my father’s skin being burned off, ridding him of all tattoos that represent the club, and I don’t even turn around.
“Nah,” I say, shrugging, a smile stretching across my face. “Those guys earned it. What he’s put my brothers through, what he’s put Brooks through, what he’s taken from them… that’s their time to shine.”
“I’m not trying to put my nose in your business, but you do know he took from you, too, right?” The howls turn to screams and I start walking faster until I reach the clubhouse door.
“Who’s in charge of soundproofing that place?” I ask, laughing nervously, trying not to get sick imagining what’s going on in that shack.
“Esther,” he says. “He hurt you. He broke you. He used you. He confessed to trying to have you killed. You don’t have to forgive him.”
“You’re right, I don’t. But it feels really good.” Forgiving my father is the most spiteful thing I could possibly do in his eyes, and if Moses Boden taught me anything, it’s how to be a spiteful person. It feels like a ton of bricks are being lifted off of me. I don’t even want to think about the future yet, because right now, I just feel like I’m at peace.
“Are you ready for a beer?” I ask him.
“How about we bust into the scotch. It is, after all, a celebration,” he says, and although I can hear the sadness in his voice, his eyes look clear, and his smile looks peaceful. This old guy looks like he’s twenty years younger, the worry of the terror and destruction my father has been causing since he’s become president melting away.
“To our liberation,” I say, sliding a rocks glass across the counter.
“To the Mountain Misfits,” he says, slugging down the double shot in one gulp.
Chapter 44
Brooks:
She broke down for a little bit when we first got back to the house, sitting on the front porch, her green eyes red and puffy while she stared out into space, and I get it. This shit was traumatizing. I know what it feels like to lose a father. Sometimes you just need to be left alone to process whatever you’re feeling.
I let her have her space.
I was thankful she needed some space. I don’t like her to see the violent side of me, even though she understands it fully, just by being raised in the club. I needed some space too. I needed some time to come down from the adrenaline high, some time to put the day behind me and start thinking about our future.
While she sat outside, I went into our bedroom and started packing. I took the engagement ring I’d been hiding in the gun safe and slipped it into the hidden pocket inside my backpack. I don’t want to let the sadness of today forever taint the memory of me proposing to her. It’d just be another way to keep Moses and all the damage he’s done to her on her mind. I want to get her away from here and make this about her and I. Nobody needs to know yet.
“Where do you want to go?” I ask her as she starts pulling stuff out of the closet, tossing it on the bed. “Anywhere you want.” We both decided the best thing we can do right now is take a little time away from the mountain, from the club, just get on the bike and go on a little road trip to clear our heads and hit the reset button.
She holds up a white sundress to her body and looks at me with her head cocked to the side. “You think I can still get away with wearing white, or will I be better off in ivory?”
“You can get away with wearing whatever you want, gorgeous,” I say, pulling some clothes out of the drawer and setting them in my backpack, not even looking over at her. “You know I don’t care what you wear.”
“That went right over your head, didn’t it?” she asks with a nervous laugh.
“Is that what you think?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at her. “*You think I can’t take a hint?”
“Well, I figured this is the first time we’ve been able to get away together in a while. Who knows when it’s going to happen again.”
“You sure you want to do this right now? Are you sure you’re not just fired up? Don’t you want a big old badass biker wedding?” I tease.
“No,” she says point-blank. “I want to go to the justice of the peace, and then I want to go straight on our honeymoon.”
“What about an engagement ring? You don’t want one of those?” I ask.
“I don’t need anything like that, Brooks. All I need is you for the rest of my life.”
I dump my backpack out on the bed and pull out the black box. “I guess I’ll just take this back, then.” Her eyes grow wide and she rushes over to the bed.
“God, I ruin everything,” she says. “I didn’t even ask you what you wanted.”
“I want what you want, Esther. I want to get down on my knee and propose to you like a decent man. I want to promise to make you the happiest woman alive. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to fill you with babies, and make you feel like the queen that you are every day.” I can tell by the tears in her eyes that she’s going to say yes. “It’s what I’ve wanted since the day I met you. I’ve never wanted anything other than this.”
I get down on one knee in front of her and open the box. She gasps when she sees the giant ruby and slaps her hand over her mouth. I slide it on her finger and she starts bawling before throwing her arms around me, pressing her lips to mine.
“This is the best day of my life,” she says. “All my dreams are coming true.”
“It’s just going to keep getting better,” I say. “Now hurry up and finish packing before you change your mind.”
“You want me to bring this?” she asks with a wink, holding up the crushed velvet purple teddy she was wearing the night she busted me spying on her through the window.
I scoop her up around the waist and throw her on the bed, her red hair spread across the pillow and her face flushed. Everything that happened today melts away. Everything that ever happened between us, it’s done and gone and we’ve moved on. We might be wounded, we might be orphans, and we might be Misfits, but as long as we have each other, none of that matters.
Chapter 45
Esther:
I feel like a new woman as we walk hand in hand out of the courthouse and onto the steps. He looks so handsome in his “good jeans” and a button-down shirt, nothing over the top, just enough to signify that this is a special day. I wouldn’t want him any other way. It’s the Brooks I know and love. And now, he’s officially mine forever. The piece of paper I’m clutching in my hand tells me so.
I pull my phone out of my purse and snap a selfie of us on the steps. We both agreed we’re not telling anyone until we get back from our honeymoon, but I want to make sure I document everything about this adventure we’re about to go on together. I never want to forget
this day. The start of our new life together.
I always thought I wanted a big wedding. Growing up, I imagined myself in a giant mess of white gauze and gold rhinestones. I wanted a huge party in the field behind the clubhouse, with twenty bridesmaids and a band and bikers from every chapter of the Misfits to be there for my big day. I also imagined my father walking me down the aisle, though. Goes to show how times change. It’s not my big day anymore. It’s Brooks’s and I’s perfect little day. A day that’s not about me showing off for our friends and trying to be the perfect hostess to a group of wild bikers who want to get drunk on my dime. Sliding out of your jeans and leather jacket in a public bathroom stall and into a white sundress maybe isn’t every girl’s dream come true, but as I tucked my hair up into a tight bun and slapped on some lipstick over the sink in the courthouse, I felt it with every fiber of my being; this was exactly how my wedding, our wedding, was supposed to be. Plus, the bruises on my face had nearly faded, thank goodness. Nothing a little bit of make-up couldn’t hide.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” I say, biting my lip and staring at our marriage license for a solid minute just to make sure it’s real.
“Does it make you feel any differently about me?” he asks, lacing his fingers with mine as we walk down the road.
“About you? No. About me? Absolutely.” As much as you dream about your fantasy fictional wedding as a young girl, sometimes you grow into an adult and think you aren’t going to get any wedding, let alone your dream wedding. I certainly thought that was going to be the case for me. I’m still shocked at how everything in my life is falling together. I’m still amazed that I’m going to get my happily ever after once and for all.
“Care to indulge me?” he asks.