by Porter, Cat
My eyes were glued to the chrome lighter. I could feel its smooth surface, heavy in my sweaty palm, heavy in my pocket.
That hiccuping cry rose in my ears.
The old farmer lady knelt in her trampled rice field, broken seedlings in her hands. The little boy at her side, hiccuping on tears, leaning against her withered frame, the two of them shuddering. Their shack of a home burning a violent orange against the gray sky. The Zippo lighter that I’d used to torch her house hung heavy in my pocket. A blast of that humidity now heated my skin, the stench of gunpowder and cordite infected me.
“Wreck, you okay?” Willy’s voice yanked me back. I swallowed hard, swallowing down that wretched symphony of the past. I held my breath, letting it spin, spin, hurtle away from me. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I wiped at the cold sweat prickling my upper lip.
“He goes away, there’ll be real heat,” Judge said.
“So the fuck what?” Mick said.
“They’ll all be looking to lay blame,” I said. “To toe the party line, to look good. They’ll need a scapegoat for everything under the sun.”
Mick only scowled, twirling his lighter on the table. “And?”
“We’d be good candidates is what I’m saying,” I wiped at the prickles of cold sweat on my forehead. “If we get rid of Shepherd—and that’s a big if—the dude’s protected—we’ll go down for it, and everything we’ve worked for goes to shit. Then Scout sweeps in and does whatever the hell he wants. Or any other big MC in the area, like the Flames of Hell in Nebraska.”
“What are you saying, Wreck?” asked Mick, smashing what was left of his cig in the full ashtray.
“I don’t want to take that chance to lose what we got. It’s too important, isn’t it?” I said.
“Yeah, yeah it is,” they agreed.
“Let’s get Leo out of here,” I said. “Send him down to Colorado for the time being.”
“All right, yeah, I’ll call Scout and set it up,” said Mick. “That’s a temporary solution, though, to a bigger problem. We’ll see how it goes for now.”
They were all hot to jump in and get shit done, but I was sure that thinking with our balls and going in with literally all guns blazing would be a mess. I glanced over at Isi, who sat with Annie at the bar. She stared into her untouched glass of white wine, her fingers rubbing the stem of the glass as Annie chattered on about something. Isi’s face was expressionless, she was somewhere else, wasn’t listening.
The fire, her dad, Leo.
Our baby.
She’d gotten real quiet the past couple of days, and I hadn’t pushed her to talk it out. Frankly, I wasn’t sure how. I knew she needed Leo safe, and we could focus on that. But in the back of my mind was a ticking clock that I couldn’t shut off. The Shepherd knew that Isi was my old lady. He knew that Isi was Leo’s sister.
He knew.
* * *
“Leo, you’re going to go stay with our brothers in Colorado,” I told him.
Leo’s forehead wrinkled, his eyes darted all over the hotel room as if he were searching for an unseen frequency. “No.”
“Tell him, Isi.”
“Honey, listen—”
“I’m not going anywhere. I can’t. I don’t want to.” Leo’s face got red, his voice, tighter, sharper.
“Leo, you need to. Until you get cleared of arson charges,” I said.
“Fuck that. I’ll go up to my cabin and—”
“That’s not good enough, Leo.”
“You need to go, Leo!” Isi cried out, and something in my chest pinched at the shudder in her voice. Her eyes filled with water. “You have to go far away from here. You can’t be here right now. Please, Leo.”
He only shook his head. “No, Is. I can’t.”
“Do it for me,” she murmured.
“Is—”
“I’ll come with you,” she said.
My heart lurched in my chest. “Isi—”
“It’s the only way. He’ll take off otherwise.” She turned back to her brother. “We’ll go together. It’ll be fun. Like that summer Mom and Dad sent us to camp.”
“I hated camp.”
“I know, but this time we won’t be separated.”
My pulse thudded. I didn’t know how long Leo would have to be under the grid. But I didn’t want Isi being there with him.
“They’ll find evidence to clear you of arson and Dad’s death. Ryan’s doing the best he can to move it along. Please, Leo.”
“What about the store, Isi?” he said, eyes wide.
“Georgia can run the store while I’m away.”
I didn’t like this, I didn’t like it at all. “Hang on. No one can know you’re with him,” I said. Fuck, this was all snowballing. My pulse jacked up, driving an ache in my skull. “Things need to stay normal in a way, or they’ll be after you too. You can’t stay away the whole time. You’d have to come back regularly.”
A fire lit in her eyes. She was all in. She had purpose.
Jesus Christ.
My lungs squeezed together. “You have relatives or a friend you could say you’re visiting?”
“Yes. My cousin Jane in Dallas. She went to college there and stayed. I’ve visited her before, after my divorce actually. It wouldn’t be unusual.”
“Okay. So you tell everyone you’re going to Jane’s to get away for a bit. You go with Leo to Colorado, get him settled. After two, three weeks, you come home.”
Her eyes widened. “Yeah, but…”
“Then, you leave again for a long weekend. The next time for a week.” I ran a hand through my hair, ran my tongue over my dry lips. “We’ll figure it out. And your cousin Ryan? He’s going to be asking a fuck of a lot of questions, hounding me…”
“We can trust Ryan,” she said.
“Ryan’s the law, Isi. Do not forget that.” My voice was curt, sharp.
“Ryan’s given me a pass a few times. It’s worth talking to him,” said Leo.
My insides ached as the cold words formed on my lips. “We have to make it look like we broke up.” Those words hung in the air, like jagged lightning giving off a horrid green-yellow light. In that eerie light, the lines of Isi’s face were tight, her skin paler than ever.
“Why?” she asked.
“We don’t want anyone thinking they can get to you through me, or me through you or Leo or whatever the fuck.” I took in a deep breath and pushed back the liquid fire surging through my veins.
“He’s right.” Leo’s voice was colorless, flat, and I hated him for it.
“We’ll say that Leo disappearing, being responsible for the warehouse fire, your dad’s death—all of it put you over the edge,” I said.
“No one’s gonna buy that Isi just up and leaves. Isi doesn’t do that sort of thing,” said Leo.
“This time Isi will,” she said. “Because Isi’s had enough, Isi’s gonna break if she doesn’t get the hell out of Meager.” Her jaw was set, her eyes hanging on mine for dear life. I wanted nothing more than to take her in my arms and …
“We won’t be able to call each other, because we already have the Feds watching us,” I said. “Now with the fire and Leo’s name out there, they’re going to be looking at all of us, trying to make a connection, any connection. We’ll have to stay in touch in other ways.” I wiped a hand across my mouth. “See what the band is up to, babe. I’ll talk to Scout. I’m sure he can get you gigs in Colorado or down south. There are a lot of new music festivals everywhere, there’s got to be...” My mind raced a hundred miles a second. If I had to stop and think, I would stop.
Stop and grab her and run.
I couldn’t look her in the eyes. I couldn’t. Everything spun, only I wasn’t spinning with it.
“That’d be good, honey,” she said softly.
I finally met her gaze. A storm brewed in her beautiful eyes. Something grim that she had accepted to bear the weight of—always, this girl bearing terrible burdens on her own. I didn’t want that for her, not now, but then again, I c
ould see in the set of her jaw, the gleam in her tired eyes. She needed to do this. A worthy adventure. A desperate one.
She took my hand in hers and squeezed. “What kind of sister would I be if I didn’t do this?”
“I’ll make it happen.” I forced myself to say those words.
And I fucking regret them.
Chapter Forty-Five
Three minutes before two o’clock on a cold, gray afternoon. Dismal. It was late March, but spring had not sprung yet. Actually, it had for a week, but in typical South Dakota style, a snowstorm was headed our way tomorrow morning. An aberration. An abnormality.
Like this, here, now.
I glanced at my watch for the millionth time. Two o’clock on the dot. That pull in my chest tightened painfully, twisting, like when I’d get dropped in the jungle and my body would stiffen in preparation because the fucking job had to get done.
I had to get it done.
I swung open the door of Drake’s Cafe, the metal handle cold in my damp hand. “Hey there,” Georgia greeted me at the counter with a smile. “Hey Wreck. What can I get you today?”
“A coffee, black.”
“You got it.”
“You seen Isi?”
“She’s over there.” Georgia tilted her head toward the big bay window facing Clay Street. Isi sat at a table nursing a hot mug of something as she wrote in a notebook.
“Ah.”
“I’ll bring your coffee right over.”
I strode over to Isi, my boots loud on the floor. She glanced up at me from her notebook, letting out a breath. I dragged out a chair, and she gave me a stone cold look at the loud scraping sound. I threw myself in the chair.
She said, “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.”
“Well, I don’t want to be found by you.”
I leaned over on the table, got in her face. “Is, you didn’t come over last night. I went looking for you. Where the hell were you?”
Oh, she’d come over all right. We’d fucked until exhaustion had overtaken us. I’d licked her body, lost myself in her gorgeous cunt until she’d twisted her legs around my torso and neck, screaming. We were in a fever. We couldn’t get enough of our bodies slamming into each other, our flesh demanding satisfaction. We were driven, as if we were trying to make up for our loss and our losses to come, as if we were trying to get pregnant again, wanting it, fearing it, daring it. Fuck it.
“Where were you last night? With the band again?”
“Stop right there.” Her eyes flashed. “I’m not your property, Wreck.”
“Yeah, babe, technically, you are.”
“I’ve had enough.”
“Of what?”
“Your bro code, you taking off whenever you want—”
“Hey, club life isn’t easy, but you didn’t have a problem with it before.”
“I have a problem with it now.” Her tone spiked admirably.
“Look, I know things are tough. You’ve been through a hell of a lot, I get it, but what the fuck?”
“This, you and me and your club, keeps leading to trouble. This is all my fault though, I got involved with another biker—”
“Here we go again. Do not compare me to your douchebag ex!”
“Shut up!”
“Don’t tell me to shut up!”
“Keep your voice down.” Her pinched gaze darted to the people sitting around us in booths and at tables sipping on shakes and coffees, nibbling on their pies.
Georgia set my coffee down. “Uh, you two okay over here?”
“Yeah,” Isi said, swiping a piece of hair behind her ear. “Sorry.”
Georgia slid away, and Isi leaned toward me. “I can’t anymore, all right? I just can’t.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, I don’t want this anymore. I want to be left alone.”
“Isi!”
“Things have changed now with my dad gone. And I realize I don’t want to be your old lady, I don’t want to be anybody’s old lady or girlfriend or anything. I have to get out of Meager for a while.”
“What? What are you talking about? Where you going?”
“I’m going to visit a cousin of mine in Texas. And then I’m meeting up with the band in Austin and Galveston for a couple of gigs —”
“What? You’re going on a tour? What the—”
“I don’t need your permission. Hell, I don’t need anybody’s permission for anything anymore. Jesus, you’re not getting this. You’re going to keep hounding me, aren’t you?” Her face flushed, her jaw tightened. “We’re through. Over.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do. I really, really do. You never approved of my being part of the band, but you know what? I don’t have a mommy or a daddy to disapprove of what I do, and I certainly don’t require your approval.” She got up and tucked her notebook in her big fringed handbag, her pen. Her whispers in the dark against my damp skin echoed in my ear, her hand twisting the base of my cock. “More, Wreck … fill me up with your…”
I blinked. “Isi, come on, baby, sit down—” I grabbed her arm.
She flinched from my touch. “Listen to me, dammit. I want you to leave me the hell alone.” Her voice shook, her intense gaze hanging on mine, and I winced. It stung as if she’d slapped me. She brushed past me, charging out of Drake’s.
People coughed, chairs scraped the floor. “That poor girl,” someone murmured.
“Isi? Isi, wait!” Georgia shot me a nasty glare and ran out of the cafe after her cousin. From the table where I steamed, I watched Georgia talk and Isi shake her head. Georgia pulled her into a hug, but Isi didn’t hug her back. She pulled away, turned and stalked off by herself, Georgia staring after her.
As ever, Isi had that purposeful stride even now as she made her way over the black clumps of snow and ice on the sidewalk and strode toward an uncertain journey. She remained steady, certain. Inner calm. My gut twisted. So unlike my mother’s buoyant skip as she headed for another life on her date with destiny in a red man’s truck with no regrets, no conscience. And again, years later, dumping her son with his father to driving off to another promised land somewhere over her rainbow.
No, not my Isi.
Georgia returned to the Cafe and marched over to me. “You need to leave Isi alone. I know you think you’re the macho He-Man, but that’s not gonna fly with her or me. You listening?”
“Yeah.”
“Leave her alone.”
“I’ll leave her alone, but she’ll come crawling back.”
Georgia let out a huff of air. “That girl does not crawl. Shows you never…oh, get out!”
I pushed back from the table. The cup jumped in its saucer, coffee spilling over the side. A spoon clattered to the floor. All eyes were on us. Hushed words and a round of tsk tsk filled the cafe as I strode out the door.
Applause.
I headed to Pete’s for a fucking shot of whiskey.
While I drank in Pete’s, Jake and Jump got Leo into our van and drove him down to the Colorado Jacks. The next day Isi drove herself there to meet them. Jake called me. “Things are cozy.”
Cozy, yeah. Our code word for ‘everything is as it should be.’ All good.
Sleeping alone in my bed that night, I buried my face in my pillow to stifle the memory of her soft laugh, the sensuous tickle of her fingertips tracing lines and circles on my skin before she’d lay kisses on my back, my neck, reach for my—
Stop, dammit. Stop.
Patience. I was good at patience. I wasn’t good at suddenly being without. Without her, us. Because now I realized how empty, flat, and colorless everything was without her. I couldn’t stand it.
This would be over soon enough. Not long.
Goddammit, how fucking long?
Chapter Forty-Six
Months had gone by. Days and weeks that strung together like laundry on a line. And again and again.
Our performance at Drake’s Cafe had spr
ead the word like a fucking wildfire that Isi and I were done. I didn’t go to the cafe or to the store, so I never saw Georgia. Once she happened to get gas at Steve’s when I was working, and we only stared at each other for a moment then went back to our lives.
Scout had assured me that my woman would be safe at his clubhouse. She’d call me from a gas station, a supermarket, a truck stop at designated times. Our words a rush, rush, rush of trying to share every detail of what the other had missed, catching up, keeping up. It was a high and a low, a rush and a crash. The best drug ever. The sound of her rich voice sent shivers up my spine and prickles of heat over my skin every damn time. The sun felt warmer on those days. The road was smoother under my bike. The knots in my stomach eased. For a little while at least.
Leo was having a hard time being in lockdown on club property, but he kept himself busy doing puzzles, working out and lifting weights like a fiend. One of the brothers took him rock climbing, and Leo taught him a few tricks, which worked out really good for everybody.
Leo had left Jake the keys to his green kingdom, so Jake had become a master gardener. The two of them kept in touch, and I sent Jake down there frequently.
A few weeks later, Georgia came into the garage for a new set of windshield wipers. I took care of it quickly, although her old ones didn’t really need replacing, and I rang her up. Under the twenty dollar bill she slid across the counter was an envelope. I met her sharp gaze. Quickly, I swiped the envelope off the counter, and it fell into a crate I kept there. I handed her the change and her receipt. “There you go. Have a good rest of your day.”
“Thanks, you too.” She eyed me as she slung her handbag back on her shoulder and went out to her Ford Explorer.
I nabbed the envelope and pushed it into my front pocket. It burned through to my skin. Three gas fill-ups, two oil changes, and a phone call from Steve later, I got myself to the bathroom and tore open the envelope.
A letter from Isi.
She’d gone to her cousin’s in Texas, then she’d gone off to do those gigs in Austin and Galveston, and she wasn’t back in Meager yet. Two Colorado One-Eyed Jacks had gone to each concert keeping watch, and they’d reported back to me that all was fine except for the band’s fans. They were fucking crazy. And my baby had male fans too. At Pete’s, I’d heard that Georgia had gone down to Texas with a couple of girlfriends for one of the concerts, and she’d brought me back this letter from Isi.