by Lynn, Davida
My mother let out a whimper. She looked weaker and skinnier than ever. I tried to make my voice sound somewhat soft, “You okay, Mom?”
“What’s going on, Celeste? What is all this about?” Her voice was weak. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what Conrad had put her through. Maybe I didn’t want to see her with the lights on. Had he tortured her? I wouldn’t put it past him anymore. I wouldn’t put anything past him anymore.
I raised a hand. “Sorry, Mom. I’m really so sorry. This is all my fault.” I knew my words wouldn’t do much for her. After all, nothing helped when a man you had complete trust in threatened to kill you. That is the kind of thing that shakes you to your core.
Conrad wanted nothing to do with feelings. “You’re damn right, it’s your fault. Why don’t you tell Laurel where you spent the last day before you try to suck up to her?” Conrad took a step forward, shoving my mother up with him. “She was off with Kyle, that fleabag, trashy nothing. She left me, Laurel. She decided that this life wasn’t enough for her, so she abandoned me for the dirty life of a redneck. She left me, and here we are with the grave consequences in front of us.”
My mother sounded like she was about to lose her mind, and I could understand why. “What? Celeste, I’m so confused.” My mother thought that Conrad was the perfect gentleman, and now she was held hostage by that very same man. I could see the fear and complete confusion in her eyes.
I slowly shook from side to side. “I know. Mom, it’s going to be all right. He’s not going to hurt you. It’s me he’s after, and I’m here, standing in front of you, Conrad. I’m unarmed and alone.”
“Alone?” As if on cue, a few stray gunshots rang out from somewhere on the estate. My bikers were still fighting it out for me and my cause. I wished I could call them off and get them out while they still could. They needed to be spared from Conrad. “For someone who is alone, you sure have a great number of friends, Celeste.”
I knew he was trying to beat me down a little more. He wanted to rub it in, but something about that statement triggered some strength inside of me. Defeat vanished entirely. It was as if someone shoved the curtains open, and the sunlight streamed through, landing on my heart. “You’re right.” I opened my eyes. “I do. Friends who care. Friends willing to lay their lives on the line for injustice.” I still couldn’t make out his face, but Conrad’s body snapped in surprise. “That’s what this is, you know. Injustice.”
I stepped into the room and to one side, hoping to get a bit of light on my capture’s face. If it was going to be my end, I wanted to see the expression on his face as I told him everything I felt. “You scooped me up when I was broken and desperate, and don’t fucking act like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. You smooth talked your way in with my family to the point where I was the outsider. I was the bad guy if I said one negative thing about you. I don’t blame you, Mom. I blame him. He charmed us all with money, myself included. As soon as we owed him our lives and our love, he showed his true colors. I’m sorry, Mom.”
Conrad turned, and for the first time that night, I saw his face. It was nothing but villainous. Pure evil. I also saw the gun for the first time. It was small, and Conrad had it pressed against my mother’s neck. I wished so hard that I still the gun Bandit had given me. I wanted more than anything to squeeze a round off with him in my sights. It wasn’t to be, though. I had lost the battle.
She looked at me, the lights reflecting off the tears streaming down my mother’s cheeks. “It’s not your fault, dear.”
“Oh Jesus, shut the fuck up!” Conrad rarely got mad, and the sound of his voice brought the shake back to my hands, but the fear wasn’t there. He turned the gun from my mother’s neck to me. Light bounced from it, a haunting little reflection shining against the wall to my left.
I closed my eyes again. “Just let her go, Conrad. I’m here, so let my mother go. Let’s finish this between the two of us.” My hope was that he would let her go before he pulled the trigger. As much I wanted it to be over, I didn’t want her to be forced to watch my life end. I wanted the nightmare to end instead of creating a new one for her.
There was a sort of peace inside my head. My mother had been through enough, and it was time for her to be let go. It was time for me to reap what I had sown. I guess as I stood there in Conrad’s office with a gun trained on me, I accepted death. I accepted my mistakes. When I heard the shot and glass shatter, Bandit was the only thing on my mind.
It wasn’t the first shot that hit me, because the first shot wasn’t from Conrad. The first shot came from outside the windows, shattering the glass as it seared into the study. His body lurched with the impact, and his hand squeezed the trigger. The bullet grazed me, but I didn’t even notice until later. The second I realized what had happened, I ran for my mother.
The bullet had missed her, but she collapsed into my arms as soon as Conrad let her go. She was cracking before the shots were fired, but once a gun went off inches from her, my mother couldn’t take anymore. Her dead weight was enough to pull me to the ground. The exhaustion and strain hit me for the first time that night. Soreness and sharp stabs of pain reached out from the darkness to grab ahold of me.
Bandit threw open one of the French doors that led out to the balcony off of Conrad’s office. Glass fell from a window frame as the door slammed back on itself. He had his pistol trained on Conrad. The same pistol he had given to me before the explosion separated us.
“You okay, sugar?” I could see that Bandit’s eyes were trained on Conrad, even as he spoke to me. I followed his eyes to my ex. Bathed in light from outside, the blood was bright on his shirt. Conrad’s eyes were open wide, and he looked like he was gagging.
I tried to pull my mother away from Conrad, but my strength had failed me. “I’ll live. You?”
Bandit stepped into the study, moving with a deliberate pace. Conrad still had the gun in his hand, but he didn’t seem to be comprehending anything happening around him. He turned his body towards Bandit, and my heart came to life with a vengeance. I screamed, but I should’ve known Bandit had things under control.
Before Conrad could swing the gun to fire, Bandit brought a swift fist across and clocked Conrad in the jaw. He took a step back, stunned from the blow. The gun dropped to the floor, and Conrad reached out for his desk. Bandit threw a left that connected, and Conrad’s body gave out. He fell to the floor, and I watched him crawl to a chair. Conrad’s breaths were coming in forced and anguished gasps. I made the guess that Bandit’s shot had punctured one of Conrad’s lungs.
My mother was out cold, and I couldn’t move from the floor, but I watched as Conrad dragged himself into his large, leather chair. Bandit squatted before my ex, a satisfied smile on his face, “That’s the difference between you and me, Blythe. I’m a man of my word. I promised you pain, and I delivered.”
Fuck me, it was the hottest thing I’d ever heard come from anyone’s mouth. It was pure grit and power and dominance. My heart raced a little faster, and something inside of me burning that only a rough fuck could extinguish.
Conrad’s laugh was cut off by his own choking. He was a sadistic fuck who couldn’t even accept that he had been defeated. Part of me wanted Bandit to end things with another bullet.
"You know why I did it, don't you?" Conrad's voice gurgled out. There was a wheeze as he dragged in a breath. He didn’t have much longer, and he knew it. If Conrad could get one last shot in, he would.
Kyle had fire in his eyes as he stood over Conrad. "Did what?"
Conrad managed a painful smile. "Proposed to Celeste, paid the medical bills, all of it."
"Do I really give a fuck?" Kyle's finger moved closer to the trigger. It was like Conrad was pushing Kyle, trying to goad him into ending things.
After a wince, Conrad slid himself up in the blood splattered chair. "It wasn't for her. It wasn't for me. It was for you, Kyle. When I saw Celeste with you, it made me ill. It made me downright sick to my stomach that white trash like you wo
uld ever get a glimpse of the finer things in life.”
“Fuck you, Conrad,” I barely heard the words come from my mouth, but I felt them in every bit of my being. “You think you deserved me? I’m not a piece of fucking art to hang on the wall. Worse, even. You treated me like something precious that should be locked up for no one but you. I’d rather ride on the back of a Harley and live dirt poor than be surrounded by this opulent physical manifestation of a jerk off session.”
Bandit laughed. “You know, she said it better than I ever could have.”
Conrad opened his mouth, but he clenched his chest in pain and broke out in another coughing fit. He didn’t say another word.
It was surreal walking through the expansive house. It had been my prison for nearly a year, and now it was in tatters and ruins. I thought I would be happier. Seeing the place torn down to nothing, lifeless and empty should have giving me a sense of rejuvenation or rebirth, but it didn't.
Bandit gave me a look that was nothing but concern, “Is there anything else you want to grab while we're here?”
“No.” I turned back to towards the hallway. “I just want to get the fuck out of here.”
A few moments of silence and sitting helped my mother regain some of her composure. For a split second, I thought she was going to chastise me for swearing. Instead, she gave me a motherly smile. Conrad’s money had gotten my family through a terrible trauma, but for the first time, my mom saw that my strength was just as important to move us forward.
Bandit led the way down the second floor hallway. I was glad not to go back down the servants’ quarters. I didn't want to see the devastation of the grenade or the body of the man that I’d killed. His face would haunt me for the rest of my life.
As we walk down the hallway, I brought a hand up to my ear. The wireless earpiece was gone, and I realized that it must’ve come out when the blast threw me against the wall. What messages did I miss? We're all of the Rising Sons still with us?
“Bandit.” I grabbed onto his arm. I couldn’t take another step until I knew. “Please, stop.”
He seemed more than determined to get out of the former Blythe mansion. It took a few tugs, but Bandit finally stopped and turned back to me. “What is it? You okay?” He looked at my temple, which still trickled blood.
“Is everyone still with us? I have to know. Bandit, I just have to.”
“Celeste, we need to go. You and Laurel are okay, and that’s the important thing.”
He couldn’t have been more transparent. “Who is it? I’m not stupid. Who is it?”
Bandit let out a grunt. “I don’t know, but there hasn’t been a whole hell of a lot on the radio for a while. I guess things were messy out by the carriage house, but I don’t know for sure. Celeste, we have to get moving. Conrad’s got the law firmly on his side, and I’m sure enough of them are on his payroll. Trask is planting the evidence against the Devil’s Branch, but we can’t dick around.”
His words were harsh, but I knew that Bandit had my best interests in mind. God knows how long I’d go to prison for if the cops showed up. My mother would surely die of shame if it was all for nothing. I still didn’t understand planting evidence to throw suspicion on another MC, but I wasn’t really worried about that. I was worried about our guys.
It was my turn to collapse. We headed back the way we had come; through the main entrance. Some light from outside bathed the circular foyer, illuminating Al’s body. Seeing Alcatraz was too much. A ring of crimson surrounded him in the foyer. There looked to be nothing peaceful about his end. His body gave the impression that he had been mowed down. Bandit wrapped his arms around my waist. I felt him hold my weight up the moment I saw the fallen biker. Speed and urgency meant nothing anymore as we mourned for him.
I murmured, “It’s all my fault.” Turning to Bandit, I pressed my face against his chest. There were no more tears to fall, but my heart twisted.
Trask’s voice snapped me back to the reality of the world around me. I barely noticed that the rest of the Rising Sons were in the entryway with us. “Ain’t your fault at all, Celeste. This was coming sooner or later, and I know that Al wanted to go down swingin’.”
I had to ask, “What do you mean?”
“Pancreatic cancer. Advanced stage. The docs said he had maybe six months. To say he was living life on the edge was an understatement. Alcatraz was just waiting for something like this.” Trask bowed his head.
My heart went from feeling twisted to absolutely crushed. I couldn't tear my eyes away from Al. Knowing he had sacrificed himself for us and knowing what was inside of him, I felt so powerless to it all. A good man had been taken before his time.
Lucky spoke, his voice low and solemn. “Allen Danielson came to California from Idaho in oh three. He was a restless soul like all of us. He found trouble as easily as it found him. I met him three years ago, and I can honestly say I never had a better friend. I wish I could say that this hurts more than the day he told us about the cancer, but it doesn’t. He never showed it, but we all knew he was hurting bad.” Bandit squeezed my hand as Lucky went on, “If given the choice, Alcatraz wouldn’t have wanted to die any other way. We pray that the Lord take him into his flock, and that Alcatraz rides point from here on out.”
The Rising Sons all whispered, “Amen.”
I cried as they pulled the leather cut from his shoulders. It was littered with bullet holes and blood. Trask and another biker carefully put a different one on him. There was a completely different design on the back. I caught the word Devil’s, but nothing else.
The president of the Rising Sons looked around once the job was done. “Boys, I think it’s time we head home.” He sounded tired, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. I knew the feeling well.
Back at the Watering Hole, a woman was waiting for us when we walked inside. She had her hair pulled back in a tight bun, and she stood in front of a table laid out with medical equipment. I cocked an eyebrow as if I hadn’t seen enough strange shit for one night.
“Celeste, Hope. Hope, Celeste.” Trask walked straight to her and pulled her in for a rough kiss. Once he was satisfied, Trask dropped into a chair.
She looked around, a schoolgirl smile on her face. It disappeared as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves. “Okay, who needs what?”
Bandit pointed to my mother, who stood beside me, wide-eyed and dazed. “Check her out first. I think the men won’t mind letting the pretty lady go first.” It warmed my heart to hear Bandit jump in and take a little control. She never cared for him much, but I hoped that my family would understand just how much he had done for them. He was going to be in my life for a long time, so I wanted everyone to warm up to each other.
Mom hadn’t said a word since we loaded her in the back of Bandit’s car. I tried to get her to speak, but it wasn’t happening. After what she had been through, I could understand. Bandit told me that Hope was in med school, which helped ease my fears of her looking over my mother. Other than some shock, my mom was given a clean bill of health.
“Want me to take a look at that?” Hope pointed toward my forehead. I had forgotten about it.
I shook my head, “I’ll live. Some of these men are worse than me. Take care of them, please.” Bandit handed me a tear of shirt, and I pressed it against my forehead. It would do until the real wounds were looked after.
As I watched Hope attend to the wounded men, Bandit sat beside me. “Your mom is safe now. You are safe now. Conrad is just a bad memory.”
“The kind of memory that clings onto you.”
He nodded. “I agree. It would worry me if that didn't leave an impact. I’d think you were a psychopath or something.”
I had to laugh, even with exhaustion taking me over. Bandit was always there with some dark humor to lighten the mood.
He started laughing, too. “You gonna make it, sweetheart?”
“Yeah. I just need a bed like nobody’s business.” My eyes were barely staying up, and I could hear
a drunken slur in my voice. “We’ve got to take my mom home, though.”