Beck

by Jessie Cooke

  “What are you doing, Golden? Get the mask on him!” her partner snapped.

  “He’s gone,” she said. “Are we really doing him any favors at this point?”

  “Damn it! That’s not your call and you know it.” Her partner pushed her out of the way. Beck didn’t like to be manhandled and her first impulse was to go back at him, but she was stopped by another one of their teammates. He was a friend of hers and when he grabbed her from behind he said:

  “Do you really want it to end like this, Beck? Seventeen years...and a dishonorable discharge?”

  Beck looked down at the man on the deck. She saw her father’s face. He was twenty-two years old when he died...a horrible death. She never got to meet him, but she always wondered if he thought about her in those moments right before he took his last breath. He was discharging from the Navy in less than two weeks when he died. He was coming home to be with her and her mother. She wondered if this kid on the ground had any kids of his own...or one on the way.

  “Beck,” the friend who was still holding her said softly. She nodded and pulled away from him. Her partner was back on the AED. Beck took hold of the rubber bulb and began to force oxygen into the man’s lungs. Just about the time they heard the chopper approaching, the AED informed them that the man had a pulse. The next second he began to cough and choke and wheeze. He was choking on his own blood and vomit as they loaded him into the litter and attached it to the cable the chopper had lowered down to them. Beck didn’t wait around and watch him go. As soon as she let go of the litter, she was gone. She turned in her equipment and went straight to her quarters. She would get her ass chewed out for not staying for mop-up and debriefing. She might even get written up for it, but if there was one thing that Rebekah wasn’t about to do in front of any man, it was cry.

  2

  June 2017

  “I hate this hot fucking place,” Jace grumbled. He pulled off his t-shirt and used it to wipe the sweat off his chest. Bruf tried not to look at the scars. Jace was covered in them. The worst one, of those that were visible at least, looked like it had almost separated his head from his shoulders. Bruf had no idea what happened to him, and he wasn’t going to ask. Although most people were frightened of the big, scarred man on sight, Bruf wasn’t. He just knew that there didn’t seem to be anything the man valued more than his privacy, and Bruf respected that.

  He kept his eyes on Jace’s face as he said, “You sound just like Coyote when you start bitching about the heat. He used to say that when Hell got too full, the Devil used the Valley for his overflow.”

  “He was right. Why the hell doesn’t Wolf ever call me in the wintertime? Do you have wintertime here, or is it always sweltering?”

  Bruf chuckled. “We have a semblance of winter, but nothing like what you’re used to back east.”

  Jace shook his head and looked down at the bike he was working on. That bike was the reason he was in California. Wolf needed a custom job done, fast, and Jace was the only man Wolf trusted to do it right. “I don’t like those pipes,” he said. “They’re up too high. He has anybody riding bitch they’d burn their ankles.”

  Bruf turned his head sideways and looked at them. Sabrina made fun of him for doing that. She told him he looked like Ransom’s puppy. Realizing that he was doing it again, he straightened his neck and said, “They’re just for show, right? I really doubt that he’ll ever have anyone riding bitch.”

  “Yeah, but Wolf wants it authentic. Apparently this kid is some kind of savant. He’ll know if it’s not right.”

  Bruf chuckled. “You haven’t met Nate yet?”

  “Nope. I guess I’ll meet him at the party tonight. Gotta get those pipes right, though.”

  “Alright, man. I just stopped by to get my bike. I left it here earlier thinking I was in for the night. But I’m on my way to town again.”

  “Wolf got you running errands?”

  Bruf laughed. “Nope, my other boss. My beautiful wife wants Chinese food. You got any kids?”

  “Nope.” That was another reason Bruf didn’t ask Jace about his business. If he did answer, it was always with a “yes” or “no.” If it required more than that, Jace would simply ignore the question most of the time.

  “There was a lot going on when Sabrina was carrying Mason, so maybe I missed all the sudden cravings and mood swings. Or maybe every pregnancy is different, I don’t know. Man, the other night I went all the way into town to get her a pizza and when I got back, she said she was in the mood for steak. So, I went and got her a steak and when I got back with it, she had eaten almost the entire pizza and was in tears because she said she felt like a ‘fat cow.’”

  Jace laughed. “Is she almost due?”

  Bruf sighed. “Two more months. Not soon enough. Anyway, you want anything from town while I’m out?”

  “Nah, I’m good. I’ll grab something at the clubhouse when I’m done here. Cubbie was out here a little bit ago. He said the girls made some chicken fried steak. Sounds good.”

  Bruf sighed again. “Yeah. It smelled good too when I passed through the club. Sabrina said it made her want to vomit.” Jace laughed again and Bruf said, “Sorry, man, I know you don’t know my old lady and I shouldn’t be giving you the wrong idea. This is all about the pregnancy. She’s usually sweet and thankful for everything you do for her...”

  Jace smiled, cocked an eyebrow and said, “We still talking about Coyote’s kid?”

  Bruf laughed. “Yeah, well, Coyote didn’t raise this one, so...”

  “Good for her. Coyote was a cool guy, but I have to say I never saw him as father material.” Jace was not a Westside Skull, or a Southside Skull. He was a nomad who was loyal to them both. Dax had actually recruited him and made him available to the California chapter right after Doc died. When Coyote broke ties with the Southies, some of the nomads picked sides. Jace wasn’t one of them. He continued to do what he always did, and go wherever he was needed, but for the most part, his life outside the club was a mystery. Bruf knew he owned a custom bike shop in Connecticut and that shop had a reputation all across the country as being the best at what they did. He must have a good staff because sometimes he spent weeks, or even months, in California when Wolf needed him.

  This time Wolf had called him with an unusual request and three days later, Jace was on their doorstep. Bruf had so many questions about him, none of them he dared asked, but he’d love to know about his background someday. There seemed to be nothing that Jace couldn’t do. He could shoot the head off a pin from twenty yards away. He could ride or drive anything with wheels. He had no fear, of anything or anyone, at least that Bruf had witnessed. Sometimes he was moody, but he never raised his voice. The bottom line was that Bruf was in awe of the other man, and that rarely happened too.

  Bruf turned to go, just as the two men walked into the shop. Bruf cursed himself as soon as he saw them. Part of his job was making sure the gates to the shop were closed up tight when the business was shut down for the day. He had come in from the back, since he’d left his bike in the shop earlier, and planned on closing the gates on the way out. He told himself he should have known better. It had been a long time since they were on lockdown and he had let himself get too comfortable. At least he wasn’t unarmed. For now, he just positioned his hand where he could grab the .357 quickly if he needed it. “What are you doing here, Morrison?”

  Alex Morrison was a blast from the past that no one wanted. He was a piece of trash Coyote used to do business with. He was an arms dealer whom Coyote finally cut ties with when he found out that the scum had raped and beaten a woman and gotten away with it. He claimed that when Coyote did cut the ties the Westside Skulls still owed him for a shipment that was never delivered. Of course, he waited until Coyote was dead to start making noise about it. Wolf had simply told him to fuck off, but apparently the asshole hadn’t gotten the message. “I need to talk to Wolf.”

  “Then use the telephone.” Bruf felt Jace step up behind him. He wasn’t worried ab
out Alex and his flunky...but Morrison rarely traveled without an entourage, so he was a little worried about how many he might have waiting outside.

  Alex’s face twitched but his voice was still calm as he said, “I’ll repeat myself just this once. I need to talk to Wolf Lee...now.”

  “I’ll repeat myself just this once,” Bruf said, parroting the piece of shit in front of him. “If you think you have business with Wolf, pick up the fucking telephone. I doubt he’ll take your call, but you’re free to try.”

  The big guy began to slide his hand into his jacket and Bruf immediately went for his gun. At the same time, the sound of Wolf’s voice came from behind Morrison and the bodyguard. “What the fuck is this?” The Boss must have been in his office watching the outside cameras. As soon as he heard Wolf, Alex spun around to face him. The big guy stayed facing Bruf and Jace, and all three were armed. Jace still had his shirt off and the bodyguard was staring openly at the puckered, crescent-shaped scar that ran across the front of the big man’s neck.

  “You’ve been avoiding me,” Alex told Wolf.

  Wolf cocked an eyebrow and said, “Avoidance would imply fear. I’m not afraid of you. I’ve got a business to run and what I don’t have is time to fuck with the likes of you.”

  “We can make this simple. You can pay me for the shipment your father stole, and I’ll be on my way.”

  Wolf smiled, wickedly. Even his eyes changed, almost like he really was the majestic animal and Alex was his prey. “Here’s your payment, motherfucker. I let you walk out of here in one piece...this time, with the understanding that will be all you’ll ever get from me. It’s a one-time pass, though, so I’d take it and go now if I were you. And take your cartoon sidekick with you.”

  The sound of the back door opening didn’t even faze Bruf, at first. That side of the shop faced the club and Bruf knew the club’s gates were closed, locked, and monitored. It was only when he saw Wolf’s eyes that he knew something was wrong. Wolf moved his head, but so slightly that it was almost imperceptible. Bruf didn’t want to turn away from the gun that was still pointed in his direction, but he trusted Jace would keep an eye on the bodyguard, and he turned to see who had opened the door. He felt his heart stop for just a second and then begin to beat wildly in his chest. The door was still open and framed in the doorway was Sabrina. She was holding Mason and the toddler had his skinny little legs wrapped around his mother’s swollen belly. Mason smiled when he saw his daddy, and Sabrina’s face didn’t seem to register anything was wrong until her eyes fell to the gun in her old man’s hands. He felt relief washing over him as she began to back out the door.

  “This is your sister, right?” The sound of Morrison’s voice talking about Sabrina sent a murderous rage pulsing through Bruf’s body. The only thing that kept him from turning around and putting a bullet in the man’s head was that his wife and son were still looking at him, but as Sabrina closed the door Bruf heard Wolf’s voice become low and threatening as he said:

  “I wouldn’t say another word if I were you. It might just be your last.”

  Alex chuckled and said, “You bikers and your women. Always so protective. Tell you what, Wolf. You give me what you owe me and I won’t put my giant cock in that pretty little pregnant girl’s...” Before Bruf could put a bullet in the fucker’s head, Wolf actually bared his teeth and lunged at him. The two tangled up on the floor and the bodyguard spun around...and his chest exploded like a blood-spewing volcano. Bruf was confused. The shot didn’t come from him or Jace. But he didn’t have time to think about it before another two men appeared in the doorway. Jace took one out and Bruf the other. Wolf and Morrison were back on their feet and Morrison had his hands in the air and a pathetic, terrified look on his face. Wolf had his own gun out. “You motherfuckers will pay for this,” Morrison said.

  “Get out,” Wolf told him with a growl, “or you’ll be joining your friends in hell any second now.”

  “I hope you keep a close eye on your wom—” His words were cut off by Wolf’s hands on his throat. He pushed the man up against the wall behind him and held his gun to his head. But Bruf knew if Morrison was still shooting off his mouth, he still thought he had backup. His balls weren’t that big. Bruf started toward the roll-up door. He’d taken one step when the bullet grazed his arm. It hurt like a motherfucker, but Bruf could tell that it had just grazed him. Fighting through the pain, he pulled his own trigger again, but missed. The man’s gun was pointed at him and another man’s was aimed at Wolf. Then Bruf heard two more shots...and everything went silent.

  “Bruf! Fuck, he’s hit. Call 911.”

  “Wolf? You okay? Is Jace okay?”

  “Yeah, bro, we’re fine. You’re bleeding, though.”

  “It’s just a flesh wound. Don’t call an ambulance, or the police will be crawling all over us like flies.”

  “We were ambushed. We protected ourselves. Jace, call 911.”

  That was when they both noticed Jace was no longer in the shop. Wolf took out his own phone and was dialing 911 when Jace came back in, carrying one of Bruf’s worst nightmares under his arm. For a second he thought the pain might be making him hallucinate. “You know this one?” Jace asked.

  “No—” Wolf started, just as Bruf blurted out:

  “Rebekah?”

  “It’s Beck. You want to tell this fucking ape to put me down?” Jace was still holding her tightly and he had a gun pointed at her head of wild, curly, blonde hair. Her light blue eyes looked like they were on fire.

  “Who the hell are you?” Wolf said. “Bruf, you know her?”

  “Intimately,” Beck said. That was when Bruf saw life as he knew it wave goodbye and take flight.

  3

  Wolf grew up in a chaotic environment. With Coyote at the helm of the club, there was rarely a calm, quiet moment. So when the ambulance and police descended on them, he calmly explained what had taken place and offered the videotapes from the cameras he had installed after someone tried to kill him a couple of years earlier. Detective Meeks was there and collected all the guns, which thankfully were all legal. The other thing that helped them was Alex Morrison’s reputation itself. The police knew him well, and although he was claiming to be the victim, he was the one on Wolf’s land with an entourage of armed men...and their guns weren’t legal. Meeks convinced the other officers on the scene not to arrest anyone until autopsies and a full investigation were done. He interrogated Beck alone and Wolf heard him tell her not to leave town. Wolf still wanted to know who the hell she was, but he was waiting as patiently as he could, until it was his turn with her.

  Bruf’s wound was minor. The EMTs treated him on-site and told him to follow up with his own doctor.

  It was the late by the time all of that was done and the bodies were finally removed. It was even later when the police finished their interviews, searches, photographs, and heated discussions and finally left. Most of them were disappointed to leave without someone in the back of their car on the way to the station...but thanks to Meeks talking them into investigating first, the guns on the Skulls side and even Beck’s being legal and registered, and the police knowing Morrison and what a piece of crap he was, no arrests were made, yet.

  When they were finally all gone, Wolf took Bruf and Jace into his office. Beck was already there, waiting. She was sitting backwards on a chair with her legs spread around it, smoking a cigarette. She had on faded jeans, black boots, and a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Wolf didn’t miss the way she was looking at Bruf and he smelled trouble brewing with his little sister, whom he had to order home earlier in the evening. She had freaked out when she saw Bruf bleeding and she had tried to demand that he go home. But Sabrina had learned that Wolf’s word was final around the club and finally she’d given in and taken her tired baby home to bed, leaving Bruf to finish up with his president. Thankfully, Wolf had sent Beck to his office before Sabrina barged into the club and they hadn’t met...yet.

  “Who wants to start?” Wolf asked,
looking from Beck to Bruf.

  “Is Coyote here?” Beck asked.

  Wolf raised an eyebrow at that. She not only knew Bruf, but Coyote as well? Maybe she was part of that mess on the hill with Ediger before Bruf took them down. “Coyote is dead,” he said. Suddenly he was taken back two years when he said those same words to Sabrina. The look on Beck’s face only lasted a second, but it was there long enough for Wolf to recognize pain and disappointment. God help him if this was another illegitimate sister.

  “Figures,” she finally said, taking another long drag off her cigarette.

  “Who are you?” Wolf’s patience was running thin at last. He was exhausted and had a big party planned for the next day. He wanted to be home, in his bed with his woman...whom he had shooed away earlier as well. Blair was easier to convince to leave, since he wasn’t hurt, but he knew he’d have some explaining to do to her later as well.

  “Name’s Beck. Rebekah Golden. I was a friend of Coyote’s.”

  “A friend?” Wolf asked, relieved she wasn’t Coyote’s kid, but sensing there was more to it than she was telling him.

  “Yep.”

  He sighed. She wasn’t going to make this easy. He looked at Bruf then and said:

  “Friend of yours too?”

  “No, but we’ve met.” Beck snorted and took another drag from the Camel.

  When Bruf didn’t go on, Wolf said, “Where?”

  “When Coyote went to Boston that last time and I went with him.”