by Jessie Cooke
“Motherfuckers.” Lion’s heart sunk into his stomach as he glanced around the ruined kitchen. He felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the small room to catch his breath, so he moved on to check out the rest of the house first. There wasn’t really anywhere for anyone to hide, so after a short pass through, he was sure he was alone. His bedroom looked untouched, a stack of books knocked here and there…but nothing seemed to be missing. In the living room the only thing that looked disturbed was a small wooden box he kept on a table behind the couch. It was open, and empty. Lion kept his extra gun there, a small 9mm that used to belong to his mother. He’d found it in her things after she died and his Me Maw had put it away “until he turned eighteen.” After the fire, it was one of the only things not destroyed. It was the only thing he had left of his mother at all…and now it was gone.
Fighting the urge to destroy something himself, he went back into the kitchen and finally took a look at the real damage. As he did, his vision was almost blurred by the smoke of the fire that curled in the pit of his stomach, and everything turned red. His brain was a chaotic mess, a mixture of memories, pain, and violation. He could feel the heat seeping through his veins, searing everything in its path. He bent down and scooped up a handful of the broken crystals off the floor and curled his hands into fists. He felt the pieces of glass pierce the palms of his hands and the blood seeping through his fingers…but he didn’t feel any pain. It was like a release. A valve that would temporarily keep the volcano inside of him from erupting.
At last Lion finally looked toward his desk and when he saw what they had done to his drawings, when he saw what they had taken, the murderous rage he was feeling reached the point of no return. This time he wasn’t a lost, grieving, lonely sixteen-year-old boy. This time he was a man, capable of finding the son of a bitch who did this…and making him burn.
Three Days Later
Lion spent the next three days between repairing the damage to his house, and trying to use the tracks the sonsabitches had left behind to figure out who had done it. He was able to discern that there had been two of them, both on bikes that they’d parked at the end of the dirt road behind a clump of bushes. The tracks were still there, leading off the road and back onto it. They hadn’t bothered to try to sweep those away, or the boot prints left around them. There were two sets of prints and as far as Lion could tell by using his own size twelve as a measurement, one of them was about a size thirteen, and the other smaller than Lion’s, so maybe a ten or eleven. The bigger set of prints was deeper than the smaller ones, indicating that they’d come from a big, heavy man. Lion’s first thought was of Luger and Walt, but he had a hard time imagining either of those losers having the balls to invade his space, even thinking about Luger’s strange comment about where Lion lived the day before.
Walt was scared to death of him. The big guy hadn’t looked Lion in the eyes since they were kids and he beat the snot out of Luger for talking shit about his Me Maw when they were barely twelve or thirteen years old. And Luger…he wasn’t quite stupid enough to be as scared as he should be…but still, Lion just wasn’t sure he would go this far with some childhood vendetta. If his hunch was right and this vandalism was related to the fire, that meant Luger had been looking him in the eye for twenty-two years, knowing he was responsible for Lion’s grandmother’s death…Are his balls really that big? Lion had been questioned by the police multiple times after the fire and when they finally accepted that he hadn’t started it, they’d asked him a lot of questions about who may have. Back in those days Lion felt like everyone hated him…but it had been at least a year at that point since he’d had any kind of confrontation with Luger, so he hadn’t even suspected him. It wasn’t long after the fire when Luger’s father died and for another year or so afterwards, Lion hardly even saw him around. But suddenly he was popping up again, and now someone was trying to invade his space…so Luger bore watching at the very least.
On the third day after the vandalism, Dax called him. Lion had forgotten about promising to ride point on the trip to New York. He really didn’t want to switch his focus, but since he’d already told Dax he’d go, he couldn’t back out. At least being on his bike for five and a half hours each way would give him some much-needed wind therapy. He got up early the next morning before the sun came up and geared up for the ride. He’d decided during the night…after waking up caught in the midst of another horrifying nightmare where he was trapped inside the house with his Me Maw as she took her last breath…that as soon as he finished this job, he was going to confront Luger outright. The piece of shit would only deny it, but Lion wanted to look him in the eyes when he did. Even if Luger wouldn’t admit he’d had anything to do with it, Lion intended to find out exactly where he and Walt both were…both nights…and if they were anywhere near his place, they were both as good as dead.
Lion rode up to the shop at the ranch just as dawn was breaking. The three prospects Dax had assigned to the job were still loading up the van with crates and boxes full of parts. Lion knew they were parts pulled off of cars, trucks, and bikes that they’d boosted, but he wasn’t worried about their getting stopped by the police. The Skulls were experts at making sure nothing was traceable. The real threat was often from street gangs or rival clubs who somehow found out they were moving things. They wouldn’t dare try to hit the ranch, but there had been incidents of their lying in wait along the road. That always ended in a mess that usually did involve the law, and part of Lion’s job as a point man would be to make sure that didn’t happen.
He parked his bike and started helping the prospects with the loading. They were almost finished when he heard three other bikes pulling in. The first one that parked was Cody. He was easy to spot thanks to his bodybuilder physique and the green flames painted on his half-shell helmet. He lifted his chin at Lion as he stepped off his bike, but Lion’s focus was elsewhere by then…the two bikes pulling in behind Cody had come into view, and the riders…it was Luger and Walt.
Luger stopped his bike first and pulled off his helmet. “Fuck me, you’re going on this ride?”
Lion was simmering as he looked into Luger’s eyes. He wanted to pull him off the bike and beat a confession out of him right there…but he knew Cody would stop him, and then Dax would step in. When he got his chance to deal with Luger, and his fat friend who was pulling up next to him, he wanted it to be far away from the ranch, and with no one around to intervene. He swallowed the anger and it tasted sour going down. He pulled his gaze from Luger’s and turned to Cody.
“I’ll ride back point with Walt,” he said. Lion glanced at the big guy then and although he still wouldn’t look Lion in the face, there was a look of almost abject horror on his. He looked at Luger and Luger spoke for him.
“What makes you want to ride with Walt all of a sudden?”
“Puts me at least twelve feet away from the stink of you.”
“We gonna have problems here?” Cody asked.
“No,” Lion said. “Not from me.” Luger continued to stare at Lion until Cody cleared his throat.
“No, boss,” Luger finally said. “No trouble.”
“Good, because this should be an easy job, up and back. We’ve got one stop mapped out for gas on the way and one backup point about ten miles back if the first one doesn’t work out. Luger and I will ride five miles out ahead and give Pope the all clear when we get there. If he doesn’t get it, he’ll keep going and the two of you will have to take front point to scope out the next stop. Everybody got that?” They all said they did and Cody said, “Good, any questions?”
“We expecting any problems?” Lion asked. He almost hoped they were; it would be a nice outlet for some of his stress and rage. He only hoped Luger didn’t get caught in any of the crossfire, Lion wanted him in one piece…in case he needed to rip him apart.
“Not that we know of,” Cody said, “but the Black Aces took most of what they’re holding in the Bronx by force so I’m sure there are plenty of pissed-off assho
les out there looking for retaliation. My guess would be that if there is any interference, it’ll be closer to the drop-off point rather than out on the turnpikes or bridges. Either way, stay alert.” Lion nodded again and looked over at Walt. The big guy was looking down at his handlebars. Lion smirked and said:
“Better keep your head up, Walt. You’ve got my back, and I’ve got yours.” Lion saw the big man swallow what looked like a huge lump in his throat. This day might turn out to be fun after all.
20
Madison banged on Hawk’s door for the third time that morning. She was getting frustrated, and anxious. “Dad? Please open the door!” She banged on it again and when there was still no sound from inside she turned to go get help. That was when she saw Dax pull his Harley off the road that led up to the clubhouse and park it in front of Hawk’s trailer. He turned off the ignition and as soon as the engine went silent he said:
“What’s up, Madison? Is everything okay?” He slid off the bike and Madison couldn’t help but notice how good he looked that morning. Of course he always looked good, but he seemed to be dressed up—more so than usual. He had on a pair of black jeans and his boots looked like they’d just been shined. Usually he wore a t-shirt underneath his kutte like most of the other guys, but that morning he had on a long-sleeved, collared black shirt that buttoned up the front underneath the leather vest that told the world he was the president of the Southside Skulls. All that black made his blond hair and bright blue eyes shine brighter underneath the morning sun and for just half a second, Madison was mesmerized.
“I’m not sure,” she said, finally, shaking off her hormones and feeling guilty that she’d gotten distracted from the task at hand. “He won’t answer the phone or the door. I took him to dialysis yesterday and it went fine…better than fine, actually. He opened up to me a little bit and actually talked about his past.” She couldn’t help but smile as she said, “He was telling me about when he first met your dad.” Dax smiled too, but his eyes looked sad and Madison regretted bringing up the tenuous connection between the two men. “I’m sorry. Anyways, I checked on him around dinnertime last night and he was fine. I have a key to the lock on the handle, but he’s locked the deadbolt now and I don’t have that key.”
“Let me try,” Dax said, stepping up to the door as Madison moved away. He hit the door with his fist a few times and called out to Hawk. When there was still no answer he pulled his phone out of his pocket and Madison listened as he said, “Hey, Amy, who’s close by? Okay, put him on. Levi, I need you to grab the keys to Hawk’s place out of the office. They have an H on the key chain. Bring them out here to his trailer ASAP, okay?” He ended the call and while they waited for Levi, Dax walked around the outside of the trailer and banged on the windows while Madison continued to knock. When Dax got back to the front he said, “Old f—” He hesitated and seemed to remember who he was talking to before going on, “The crazy old man has all the windows blacked out.”
Madison nodded. “Yeah, he’s nothing if not private.” She’d practically been ecstatic the day before when instead of spending the four hours he was at the clinic, pretending to be asleep, or bitching at the poor nurses, Hawk had actually chosen to spend it talking to her about his past, opening up to her without any prompting this time. She had loved watching his face when he talked about Doc, and their friendship. He was animated and his face lit up in a way that she hadn’t seen since she was a kid. It was like the years and the troubles in between had fallen away, if only for those few hours. Hawk had clearly loved and respected Doc, and Madison guessed he missed him. She couldn’t help but once again wonder how Hawk had ever come to the decision to betray his best friend, and tear apart both their friendship and Hawk’s life as he seemed to know it then.
When Levi drove up, Dax went over and took the keys from the quiet young biker before he had even turned off the ignition or stepped off the bike. Madison followed Dax to the door and he unlocked the deadbolt and stepped inside the dark trailer with Madison on his heels. Before her eyes adjusted to the dark, Dax whispered, “Fuck.” Then startling her he yelled out, “Levi! Call 911.” Madison’s stomach turned, but whether it was the idea that her father needed an ambulance, or the rank smell of whiskey and vomit that hung in the stale air like a cloud, she didn’t know.
Dax knelt at the edge of the chair Hawk was slumped over in, and Madison watched, paralyzed, as his fingers searched her father’s neck for a pulse. Her eyes went to the tray next to the chair where she’d left him a bottle of water and a snack the night before. Now it was littered with an overflowing ashtray and two whiskey bottles. One of the bottles was upright and almost empty, and the other lay on its side with a sticky pool of amber liquid drying around it.
“He’s breathing,” Dax said, “but he’s having a hard time. I’m going to put him on the floor until the ambulance gets here.” Madison still felt numb, but she moved forward and helped stabilize Hawk’s head as Dax lifted him out of the chair and laid him on his back on the floor. She heard a little whimper escape her throat when she looked at his face. It was swollen and looked mottled and gray. Madison brushed long strands of dark hair back out of his face and said:
“It’s okay, Dad. It’s going to be okay.” Dax was on his phone again, talking to whoever was at the front gates. He’d just ended the call when Hawk surprised him and Madison both by opening his eyes. “Dad? Can you hear me?” Hawk’s dark eyes looked out of focus for several seconds and then suddenly his puffy face seemed to turn up into a tight smile.
“Doc,” he whispered in a barely audible voice. Madison and Dax both froze, especially when they realized his eyes had focused in on Dax’s face. “Hey, buddy, long time no see.”
Dax’s blue eyes didn’t leave Hawk’s face as he returned the smile and said, “Yeah, man, it’s been too long.”
It had been three hours and Madison and Dax were still in the waiting room. Levi was still close by too, in and out with the phone or messages for Dax now and then. Dax’s blue eyes were beginning to mist over as he stared at the game show on the television. “Dax, I’m really okay if you need to go.”
He looked over at her and smiled. They were sitting in the far corner of the waiting room and when they got there they’d been surrounded by people. Some had left to be with their loved ones, or to see the doctor, but Madison noticed that some of them simply moved across the room when they saw Dax and Levi. She’d spent so much time on the ranch and with the Skulls that it surprised her to see that the community still feared them. To her they’d been welcoming hosts, family people, and a support system she never expected to find.
“Today is the anniversary of my old man’s death,” Dax said. “I was on my way to the cemetery when I saw you at Hawk’s and stopped.”
“Oh no! Dax, I’m sorry.”
He smiled softly and said, “Thanks. It’s been a long time, but Doc cast a really long shadow. Thing is…if I had to guess why the old man in there tried to drink himself to death last night, I’d say that was a pretty good one.”
“I guess that explains why he finally opened up to me about Doc yesterday, too.”
Dax nodded. “He’s always on my mind, but never more so than this day. I’m guessing it’s the same for Hawk. I think he still hurts over not being there when the old man died, and not being at the funeral. Did he ever tell you why he really left…all those years ago?”
“Not the whole story, but yes…I know that he betrayed Doc, and he had to leave.” She loved her father, no matter what he’d done in his past…but she did feel guilty, talking to Dax about Hawk’s great betrayal of his father.
Dax looked at the wall above the TV. His eyes seemed far away as he said, “I’m pretty sure that I’m the only one he ever told the truth to about that night.” He shivered, which surprised her. She’d built an image of Dax in her head like most of the others had…something more than human. “He only told me because I was going to kill him. I spent over half my life wanting to kill him with my bare hands
, and I was going to do it. The funny thing was that when he looked into my eyes and told me the truth finally, I didn’t doubt him. I tried. I tried to hold onto the hate I’d felt for him for so many years…but I couldn’t hate anyone who genuinely loved my old man that much.” Madison wasn’t exactly following him and it hurt her to hear him talk about how badly he wanted to kill her father, but she remained silent and listened. “My old man and Hawk had a strange relationship. Doc Marshall was a narcissist. He thought he was better than everyone else, even Hawk. But that didn’t faze your old man. Hawk took twenty kinds of hell from and for my old man on a daily basis…and he still loved him. But the thing that wasn’t apparent to many people was that my old man loved him too. Doc loved himself, a lot,” he said, with a little chuckle. “But there were two people on this earth that he loved almost as much, and Hawk was one of them.” Madison wondered about the “two people.” Is Dax talking about himself, or his mother? “I hated him…most of my life,” he said. “Hawk…I hated Hawk, because I was jealous of him.” His eyes suddenly focused on her face and he said, “Of course if you ever tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.” He grinned and she smiled and wiped a tear off her face. She doubted that Doc loved Hawk more than his own son, but she also knew that parent/child relationships were hard sometimes. “Honestly, it’s why I had such a hard relationship with my mother too. I wanted him to feel that strongly about me, the way he did my mother, and Hawk.”