by D. R. Graham
“It’s not about your dad anymore. It’s about you.”
“Me? What?” I shake my head to give myself a second to process the shock. “Why?”
“It looks like that Crofton kid works for the gang that popped your dad.”
“What?” I’m so confused right now. Leland has a kid. He deals more than weed. He works for a gang that murdered my father. And all this is connected to my brother’s death. That can’t be true. I don’t want that to be true. “Leland doesn’t work for a gang. He works for his dad.”
“He’s been using his dad’s company to move shit internationally for an Asian gang.”
My heart hammers as the horrible truth sinks in. I can’t believe I didn’t see it, but I still don’t understand how all the pieces fit together. “Cooper had nothing to do with Leland. It doesn’t make any sense that he would be killed because of Leland’s alleged connections.”
“It’s only one possibility. I don’t know if it was a hit, an accident, or—” He scratches his head and glances at me. “Or suicide.”
“Cooper wouldn’t have killed himself.”
He shrugs and takes a drag from his cigarette as if he’s uncomfortable suggesting it, but believes that it’s a feasible theory.
God, this is painful. I really wish I didn’t need to be here talking to the president of an international outlaw motorcycle club about the death of my innocent little brother. I inhale and squeeze the armrest, searching for the strength to continue as the redness drains from my knuckles. “If you’ve had guys tailing us, I don’t understand why Cooper is dead and nobody knows why.”
“He wasn’t being tailed when it happened.”
“Why not?”
“He went to his”—Randy makes air quotations with his fingers—“‘friend’s’ house, and every other time that meant they were staying in for the night, so the tail left. No offense, but it’s hard to get my guys to stick around while two guys are fucking.” He shudders like the image that he conjured makes him sick.
“Grow up.”
“Anyway. Cooper must have gone out after he was at that Sam kid’s house. Maybe they had a fight. Maybe he was depressed. I don’t know.”
Fuck you, Randy. You didn’t know him like I did. “Cooper wouldn’t have killed himself.”
“They found his body at the base of a fourteen story building under construction. You have to consider it as a possibility.”
“Maybe one of your homophobic goons pushed him off the building because he was gay. Have you considered that as a possibility?”
“All my guys, including the guy who was tailing him, were here for a patch ceremony that night. Besides, most of the guys have known that Cooper was gay for a long time. They don’t really care, or at least they don’t show that they care, because your dad and uncles always supported him.”
“They knew?”
“Sure.” He glances over his shoulder at the surveillance monitors. He turns back toward me, but avoids looking directly in my eyes. “If you want to know exactly what happened to Cooper, I suggest that we ask Sam again what he was doing that night. I’ll send one of my guys to—”
“No,” I interrupt. “Don’t send anyone to talk to Sam. I’ll do it myself.”
“Fine, but I don’t want you to go anywhere near that Crofton cocksucker. Make sure Aiden is with you at all times until I get it sorted out.”
“Yeah, whatev— Hey. What the hell?” I stand up and stare at the monitor that shows the stripper on it. She’s sprawled out on the floor because Aiden just flew across the screen and crashed into her. I run to the door. Mickey is in the hall leaning with his back against the wall and his arms crossed. He obviously wasn’t expecting me to come running out and I’m able to scoot past him before he reacts. I sprint down the hall, but he catches me by the waist before I get halfway to the second door.
“Let go of me!” I screech. “They’re beating Aiden up.”
“He can handle it.”
“Let go of me!” I scream and struggle as if I’m having an epileptic fit. “He can’t handle twelve against one. You’re supposed to be his friend.” I punch him in the face and he winces a little.
He holds me by the shoulders and pushes me against the wall. “Settle down. He knew this would happen when he applied to be a pig.”
“What? I didn’t know he wanted to be a cop.”
“He doesn’t want to be a cop.”
“Then why did he apply?” I ask, confused and still just as terrified for Aiden.
“The club doesn’t allow members who have applied to be either a cop or a prison guard.”
I study Mickey’s expression and suddenly understand. “He’s trying to get kicked out?”
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t he just quit?”
“It doesn’t work that way. I pulled door duty so I wouldn’t have to be involved.”
“Not doing anything to help him is just as bad.” I can’t believe that Aiden’s idea of a plan consists of getting his head kicked in. I start flailing again. “Please, let go of me.”
“No. It’s better if you stay here until they’re done.”
“Digger!” I scream. “Make them stop. He’s your son!”
His dad doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t come out of the office.
Mickey leans his body weight on me and traps me up against the wall. “This is your fault, Ti. He did it for you and these are the consequences.”
“Let go of me, or I’ll tell Aiden what you did on New Year’s.”
He steps back, but doesn’t let go of my arms. The color drains from his face. He lowers his voice, “Don’t do that, Ti. I was super high and I didn’t mean it.”
“I think you need to let go of my arm because, if I remember correctly, a member doesn’t take very kindly to another member trying to move in on his woman without permission.”
“I only tried to kiss you, and Gylly wasn’t a member then.”
I hiss a threat in his ear. “But Mack was a member when you fucked his wife in Gylly’s bed without asking Mack first. They’ll probably take a cheese grater and scrape that club tattoo right off your arm for a violation like that. Let go of me and then help me get Aiden out of here or your secret will be club gossip.”
He steps back and lets go of my arms. I run down the hall and push open the door that leads into the living room. Aiden curls up on the floor as three guys kick his torso. The rest of the members, including Uncle Len and Aiden’s Uncle Vern, do nothing but watch with amused expressions. The girl is up dancing again as if it’s nothing worth even noticing. I grab a pool cue off the wall rack and swing it like a baseball bat at the guy who just toe-punted Aiden in the kidney. It slams against his ear and shatters into a million splinters. The guy cringes like it hurt a little, but all it seems to do is enrage him.
“That was dumb, bitch,” he growls and lunges toward me.
Uncle Len stands up to come to my rescue, but he doesn’t need to because I stomp the guy’s knee sideways to blow out his MCL the way my dad taught me. He drops like a tranquilized rhino. Aiden punches one of the other guys while he’s distracted and that guy drops, too. The third guy smiles in surrender after noticing his two incapacitated buddies. Then he stretches his arm across Aiden’s shoulders. “Good job, Gylly. You held your mud pretty good.”
Aiden’s face is completely cut up and already starting to swell. He smiles triumphantly and stumbles over to fall onto one of the loungers. Uncle Len nods at me to check that I’m okay, then sits back down to watch the TV. A guy named Oscar brings Aiden a drink and pats his shoulder. “Good job, Gylly. Should I get your girl a drink, too?”
They all laugh and go back to playing pool and watching the girl dance. Are they fucking insane? Who finds something like that humorous? This is how they entertain their feeble little minds? It’s sick and juvenile. I want to vomit. Mickey and Cisco both stand near the door to the living room with proud grins. Aiden struggles to push himself out of the chair and limps over
to them. They both hug him and pat his back with big swats as if he just graduated from college or something.
The guy who Aiden punched comes around and attempts to sit up. The guy I kicked is trying to get to his feet. He’s in a lot of pain. If I did it right, he’ll need knee surgery. He glares at me and mumbles, “She’s definitely Big Bert’s daughter.”
Aiden grins and it makes me furious that he’s not mad or disgusted that his brothers would do that to him. I throw a couple of empty beer bottles at him, then storm out. I hate everything about this place. When I reach the waiting room, I push Chaz off his stool. I pick it up and swing it to smash the glass encasing my dad’s cut. I rip it off the wall, stomp on it, and scream, “I hate you! Why did you make all this fucked up bullshit my life? I hate you. I hate you. I fucking hate you. Bastard.”
I dig my heel into the patch that has his name stitched on it, trying to rip it off, but stop short when I notice the tiny gold guardian angel pin that I gave him when I was ten to keep him safe. It is still pierced through the leather above the left chest pocket. I drop to my knees and touch the wings with my finger. I knew by that age that my dad was the bad guy because he’d already done time, but I was afraid that the good guys would kill him if he didn’t have a guardian angel. I stole the pin from a gift shop and gave it to him before he left for one of his road trips. When I told him why I wanted him to have it he hugged me so tightly I couldn’t breathe. He said he would never take it off, and clearly he never did.
I lift the vest off the floor and hug the leather in to my chest. It still smells like gasoline, oil, and road filth. I’m not sure whether to be sad that the guardian angel eventually failed him, or happy that it kept him alive for eight years longer than he deserved. Actually, I am sure how I feel. I’m heartbroken that he got what he deserved. I’m devastated that his guardian angel failed him and he’s not here anymore. I miss him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t keep Cooper safe, Daddy,” I whisper into the collar. “I love you and I’ll take care of everything. I promise.”
After hugging the leather for another second, I stand up and neatly fold the cut so that only his name and the guardian angel pin are showing. I wipe the tears off my cheeks with my sleeve and look up to see Aiden and Uncle Len standing next to Chaz, all watching me.
This is why they don’t let females into the clubhouse.
I grab my phone off the counter and demand with a completely steady voice that Chaz let me out. He quickly unbolts the door and I run to the gate and ask Flow to open it. He looks through the lookout window first, then opens the gate. I walk right past all the bikes. I feel like knocking them over, but I’m not that stupid. Not even Randy and Len together could help me if I trashed a bike.
I storm down the street, not sure where I’m going. I could catch the bus or call Uncle Blaine. Maybe I’ll just keep walking until I manage to sort out my feelings. Aiden pulls the bike up beside me. He’s still grinning like an idiot. “Hop on.”
“You’re not wearing your cut.”
“I’m not a member anymore. They kept it.”
I can’t believe it really happened. I’m stunned that he actually went through with it. “And you did that for me?”
He nods with a look of fierce commitment that leaves no doubt in my mind that he would do anything for me. All right. I guess it’s real. I don’t know how I’m ever going to top that level of dedication, but I’m determined to do everything in my power to prove to him that his sacrifice was worth it. I straddle the seat and rest my cheek on his shoulder.
“How pissed is your dad?”
“Don’t worry about it.” He shrugs as if it doesn’t matter, but I know that disappointing his dad is probably killing him.
“I can’t believe he let them beat up his own son.”
“None of that matters anymore.” He reaches his arm back over his shoulder and grabs my neck, then pulls me forward to kiss him. “All that matters is that you are going to have the life you want—a safe life. I will still make sure justice is served for Cooper, but I don’t have to do anything for them ever again. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
“If you break that promise I will stab you.”
He pats my leg. “You might need to get your anger management problem treated by a professional.”
“Ya think?”
He laughs. “I can’t believe you said you left me because you didn’t want to turn out like your mom.”
“Why? It’s true.”
“That never would have happened. You’re nothing like your mom. You’re a carbon fucking copy of your dad.”
Yeah, based on my behavior earlier, I would have to agree. I stand on the pegs and lean over his shoulder to kiss his cheek. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“No.” He starts the bike. “I love that.”
“We need to go talk to Sam,” I shout over the rumble of the engine.
Aiden nods like he already knows, and we take off.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sam answers the door and looks incredibly relieved to see me. He eyes Aiden briefly, then waves us into the house and closes the door. “Cara’s a wreck. You need to talk to her.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“She’s convinced that Cooper’s death is her fault and she’s been inconsolable.” He pulls my hand, and Aiden and I follow him up the stairs.
“Why in the world would she think it’s her fault?”
“Just follow me.”
He looks both ways down the hallway as if he’s worried that their parents are lurking, then pushes us into her bedroom. Cara is on the window seat with her knees tucked up against her chest. She’s staring at the glass absently and it’s obvious she’s been crying. She doesn’t seem to notice us come in.
“Cara. Tienne is here,” Sam says gently.
She turns her head and sobs when she sees me. “I’m sorry, Tienne. I’ll understand if you hate me and can never forgive me.”
I cross the room and sit next to her on the window seat. “What are you talking about? You were with me the night Cooper died.”
She gulps for air and blows her nose in a tissue. “After I dropped you guys off, I drove home and found Cooper sitting on the front steps.”
Sam paces and says, “I didn’t know he was here. He didn’t call to say he was coming over and he must not have rung the bell.”
Cara blows her nose again. “I offered to give him a ride home, but he had Leland’s car and he said he didn’t want to go home anyway. We sat on the steps talking about the fight that he had with Sam.” She glances at her brother, who seems crushed that their fight led to something so horrible. “He also told me that some guys at school were giving him a hard time for being gay.”
“Who?” Aiden asks.
Cara flinches as if she didn’t know he was in the room. She sits up and runs her hands down her hair to smooth it. Then she frowns because his bruises and cuts make him look like he was hit by a truck. “The boyfriend named Gylly, I presume.”
I nod. Aiden’s mouth turns up at the corner, pleased to know that my friend has at least heard about him.
“I don’t know who was harassing Cooper.” Cara turns to face her brother. “Do you, Sam?”
Sam shakes his head. “No. All I ever saw were the normal everyday homophobic whispers and snickers. If someone was really bothering him, they did it when I wasn’t around, and he didn’t share it with me.”
“But what does this have to do with you?” I ask Cara.
She inhales and rubs her temples before closing her eyes. “I’m not proud of what I’m about to tell you. I didn’t tell the police because I was so afraid of what my parents would do if they found out.” She buries her face in her hands. “If I could take it all back I would.”
Aiden’s eyebrows angle sharply in a tense frown. I swallow hard and brace myself for what she’s going to say. “Just tell me, Cara. I would rath
er know.”
She exhales heavily. “Leland came up to me at the club and asked if I would be interested in taking over his clients.”
That’s infuriating. I can’t believe he stooped that low. When I see him, he is going to be so sorry he ever met me.
Cara wipes her eyes and continues, “He thought I would appreciate the extra money and, honestly, I did. You know my parents have been struggling financially and I need the money for college—I would have never even considered it otherwise. His clients are all people I know and it sounded super easy. He said some guy would drop the stuff off at my house with a list of names, I would deliver it to everyone at the club, and the guy would come by at the end of the week to pick up the money, minus my cut.”
Sam paces and clutches his hair in frustration as if he can’t believe she was naïve enough to get sucked in to it.
“I still don’t understand what this has to do with the night Cooper died,” I say.
Cara sits up straighter, bracing herself for what she is about to say. “Cooper was really stressed with taking care of your mom, fighting with Sam, coping with your dad’s murder, and dealing with assholes at school. He hadn’t been sleeping for weeks. I gave him some drugs to calm him down and help him sleep.”
“No,” I gasp. That’s impossible. “Cooper wouldn’t have taken drugs.”
“It was supposed to be the same stuff a doctor would have given him. Just some generic anti-anxiety meds.”
“Supposed to be?” Aiden asks. Thankfully he is thinking clearly enough to come up with useful questions, since I’m too stunned to get past the idea that Cooper would have taken anything, let alone something illegal.
Cara starts crying again. “I think I might have given him the wrong stuff. I had two different bags and if he took pills from the wrong one it would have made him high.”
Sam rests his hand on her shoulder to comfort her. “Cooper and I used to climb a building at the construction site where his body was found. We went there when we wanted to be alone. It’s quiet and you can see out over the city if you climb all the way to the top. It’s quite dangerous and if he was high, he could have easily slipped and fell.”