“You’re just going to leave? Just like that?” I glare at my father. My pop. His once blue eyes are now gray and red. His wrinkled face is worn and saggy. When he was told about Ruth missing, his answer was to pack up and head back to the cabin compound without her. When Jessa protested, he smacked her across the face.
“Not only am I going to leave, you are too. I told you I would let Ronin know where we’re going. Now, get the fuck on that bike.”
I pull my shoulders back. I attempt to keep my voice strong and calm. “No thanks. I’m going to ride in the Suburban with Jessa.” I spin on my heel before he has a chance to respond.
I toss my phone in my shoulder bag before throwing it in the back, shutting the barn style door. We haven’t had cell service since the blast. The Pistol Kings must have jammed the surrounding towers.
I hop in the passenger seat and Jessa glances over at me. A fresh, pink handprint dots her cheek, causing my already aching chest to cringe. “Ready?” She asks.
I nod.
“What are we doing with him?” She flashes her gaze into the rearview mirror.
I rotate, discovering Brad passed out, piled in a heap on the backseat. “The closest Greyhound bus station.”
The simultaneous laughter acts as a bandage for my ailing heart as we head back to California, away from the dreaded nightmare known as Reno.
We don’t bother trying to get word to the rest of the crew that we’re pulling off to drop Brad at the depot. We simply park at the curb and act as a double team, lugging him inside to a bench. He groans before making himself comfortable.
“Fucker.”
Jessa throws her head back in a fit of giggles.
“Yeah, like I’m not already shamed into oblivion by dating the bastard.”
She rounds her eyes. “Oh, come on, it’s not like I don’t have my own closet of douchebags.”
I cock my head. “True enough.”
Back on the road, I had no way of knowing that I had missed seven calls as my phone synced in my shoulder bag, now buried underneath a mound of luggage.
We revel in the road trip, shooting the shit and blasting loud music. It feels easy again to just be sisters. We talk about boys and where we see our futures. All the while the heaviness from Ruth’s absence hangs in the air like a record setting blizzard.
Something’s not adding up.
Ruth’s heeded warning plays repeatedly in my head.
Watch out for your sister.
Don’t trust anyone.
Before we know it, we are veering off the main road to follow Wizard’s red tail light through the heavily wooded path.
Pop had sent most of the crew back to their chapters without notice. As we make the clearing and the cabin comes into view, I expect the see Ronin.
Nothing.
My heart shrinks as I attempt to hide my quivering chin.
Where the fuck is he?
We jump in setting up the cabin. Patsy gets the bitches started on kitchen duty before she corners me.
“Has Jesse said anything about Clint and Ronin?”
“Just that they should be here anytime.” I reassure the woman.
Her eyes are masked with concern. “I haven’t been able to reach him.”
I grip her shoulder gently. “Don’t worry. If he says they’ll be here, they’ll be here.”
“And Ruth?”
I swallow back a hard lump gathering in my throat. “We’ll find her. No one would be stupid enough to hurt a President’s old lady.”
She gives a careless nod, walking away in a daze.
I catch Jessa eyeballing me. I can tell she doesn’t believe me anymore than I do. It doesn’t help that the handprint on my sister’s face is now turning into a blueish purple bruise.
It’s as if she can read my thoughts.
Things aren’t as they seem.
***
The chill in the air sends a shiver slicing through my core. I shift on the couch, pulling the afghan up over my shoulders. The afghan that I had helped both my mother and Ruth make. I struggle to clear my throat.
“Coffee, hun?” Patsy holds out a steamy mug of hot liquid.
I squeeze my eyes shut and hold the welcome cup in my quivering hands before sipping. “Thanks.” I let the scalding java work its magic. “Any updates?
She nods her head. “Got a hold of Clint and from what he said, they should be here any minute.”
As soon as the words leave her mouth, the deafening growl of Ronin’s engine echoes down the trail. My heart races as I fly out the screen door and jump off the top step, scanning him from head to toe.
He beams a pearly grin as he makes out what I’m doing. Always a laugh at my expense.
He nods, indicating he’s whole, knocking back his kickstand with the heel of his boot. He slides off his bike, coiling both thick arms around my waist, picking me up with ease, high off the ground as he buries his furry lips into my neck, bringing tears to my tired eyes.
“What took you so long?”
He steps back and snaps his head over at Clint, who breaks his gaze from Patsy long enough to do the same. Clint shakes his head.
“Just had some shit to get done. That’s all.”
“But Pop told you we were here?”
He nods as Troy and Herc pass to go inside. “Patsy finally got through to Clint too. What the fuck is up with the phones?”
“Long story.”
“Yeah, I gathered.” He throws his arm around my shoulders and leads the way inside. “Someone better start filling me in.”
“We got plenty of time for that.” Pop strolls out from the hallway, taking a long drag from a joint, offering it to Ronin. “Good to see you, Son.”
“No, thanks. Do we really have all that much time?”
“Excuse me?” Pop jerks his head back.
“Well, there was an explosion. Ruth is missing. Everyone had to evacuate. We’ve been divided among the state.”
He takes another long pull off the marijuana cigarette, holding the lungful before releasing. “We’re together now.”
“Not all of us.”
Pop steps forward. “Boy, you need to remember who the fuck you’re talking to.”
I slip between the two. “Look, we’re here now. We need to clear this shit up and figure out how to get Ruth back.”
“We need to know who took her first.” Ronin storms away to the kitchen, where Tammy pours him a cup of coffee.
“What the hell are you talking about? We know the Pistol Kings and Zombie are working together.” Pop leans against the kitchen counter, snubbing the roach out in the sink.
“Do we?” Ronin asks.
“What does that mean?” I dart my gaze between my boyfriend and my pop.
“Jolene, this is club business.”
I glower at my father. “Bullshit. This is about my fucking mother. You want me to leave, you’ll have to fucking remove me.” I dare him.
He ignores me, looking back to Ronin. “Of course, we know it’s them. We figure out where they have her and Wizard and I will make the move.”
“Fuck.” Troy mumbles, frowning at Clint.
“What? Wizard glances back and forth between both men.
Clint twists his mouth. “Nothing. Just a cluster fuck.”
“You got that shit right.” Pop shakes his head.
I try to get a read on Ronin. He and his crew know something. At that moment, my limbs go numb. I can’t help but hope Ruth is actually with the Kings because for a brief second, her fate is unclear. I don’t know if she’s alive or dead. All this time, I was taking for granted that she was being used as a pawn.
Please, dear God, let her be a fucking pawn.
After filling Ronin in on the events at the mansion in Reno, it didn’t take him long to start drinking.
“Let’s grab some beer and go for a walk.” He snatches a six pack from the refrigerator and we take off for the woods. I nestle myself under his arm in the familiar resting place where my head
meets his chest. His arm drapes around my full body like a personal protection cloak.
We walk in silence until he chugs the first twelve ounces.
“I can’t believe I wasn’t there to keep you safe.” His strong voice cracks.
“It’s fine. I’m all good.”
He stops. “Jo, it was a fucking explosion.”
“Hey, I told you before. I can handle myself.”
“Goddamn it!” He hurls the empty can at a tree. “Do you know how many times Ruth has said that exact same thing?”
Startled by his question, I stumble backwards. My eyes water, tears spilling over my unsteady cheeks.
Ronin reaches for me.
Unphased, I look through him as if he wasn’t really standing there.
“Come on, darlin. I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t want to scare you. I’m sure she’s ok.”
My head moves on it’s on, shaking back and forth slowly. “You don’t know that.” It’s hitting me like a ton of cinder blocks.
Finally, he stops. “You’re right. I don’t.”
I crumble to the ground in a fit of sobs. Ronin gathers me into his lap, pressing my head to his hard chest, caressing my hair, letting me release my pent-up emotions as he rocks me. Both of us unsure of the outcome.
Unsure of any outcome.
I don’t know how long we sat in the middle of the woods, but crickets chirp in the background as the burnt orange sun begins to fade. My body feels as if it weighs five hundred pounds after hours of much needed bawling.
And to his credit, Ronin just sits there and allows me to weep in his arms as he finishes his beer.
I peel my head from his sticky t-shirt. “You ready to head back?”
“Only if you are, sugar.” He grins a full smile, his top lip curving slightly upward.
“I think I can hold it together.”
“That’s my girl.” He tips my chin using his gigantic hand. His searing mouth finds mine, planting a heated kiss that lingers in my tummy long after he pulls away. “We got this.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
As we approach the cabin, we see the front porch lined with people talking and smoking. Ronin rotates and stops in front of me.
“Jo, are we on the same page?”
I search his dark eyes, realizing what he’s asking without speaking the words. Glancing over his shoulder, I spot the rest of my family, except for Ruth. I look back to him. His round pools of concern seeking reassurance.
“Yes.” I nod, biting my bottom lip to keep from crying, shocked that my body is able to produce more tears. “Yes,” I whisper, as I swipe at the tinge of blood with my tongue, at the very least, reminding me that I’m still alive.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
(Ronin)
I bend at the knees, unleashing the steady stream of rank piss on the innocent tree next to the cabin. My fucking bladder is ready to bust from holding in the six pack. Sizzling charcoal briquets searing in the fire pit send my stomach into a hungry frenzy as Billy man’s the steaks.
Jessa is napping on the couch.
Herc and Billy are standing first watch, along with a handful of newly appointed Prospects. Clint, Duke, and Troy shoot the shit on the back porch with Jesse and Wizard. On the surface, things appear normal, but we know better. The void is too much. Unbearable. Our matriarch has vanished.
I swing through the kitchen, where Jolene and Patsy are lining out the bitches, giving my old lady a loud swat on her perfect ass.
Pop.
“Hey!” A smirk teases in the corners of her yummy lips.
I seize the front of her neck with my large hand, claiming her mouth, delving my tongue into her warm cave, wishing I could stay in this moment forever. I feel her body melt under my weight.
“Church.” The old man’s tone is low, yet full of authority.
With one last graze along her smooth neck with my hungry mouth, I back away before I’m rendered powerless. “Got to go, darlin.”
Her heated, pools of ice follow every move until I’m out of sight.
The mood in the half-empty chapel is somber. The Prez rests at the head of the table, his chin is pointed at the floor.
He scrubs his mangy beard before speaking. “Ruth is our first priority.”
Heads bob in agreement.
I lean back in the wooden chair and light a cigarette, praying the man chooses his next words carefully.
He pulls up his neck and eyes his worn-down soldiers. Every brother in the room would easily lay down his life for the other. Gutted. Bleed out. Dead.
This is not lost on anyone.
Jesse clears his throat with a low growl. “I have no doubt Zombie and the Pistol Kings are working together. We need to get confirmation that Ruth is alive and find out what they want for her safe return.”
More head bobbing.
“Whatever it takes, we will get her home spill the blood of the fuckers who took her.”
Now, we’re getting the ‘fuck yeahs’.
“Ronin, you’ll take your crew and go take care of our usual drops. We have to pay the Jukes, or we won’t have the cash to cover what we need to get shit done. Wizard, you’re with me. Leave Duke and Stoner here with the Prospects to cover the females.”
My chest heaves with rage as I nod.
“Good.” The Executioners President slams the gavel against the old dining table. “Let’s go get my old lady.”
Everyone scrambles into action. Adrenaline pumps through my agitated veins. I make eye contact with Jolene. She pulls in a deep lungful of air, her ample chest moving with the full motion. No words are needed. She knows what’s at stake.
“Got time for a plate before heading out?” Jessa stands in the doorway with her hands on the beat-up frame.
I shake my head. “No time.” I snatch a couple of rolls of the stove. “Stick it in the oven.” I jerk my head at the rest of the brothers before dropping my mouth to latch onto Jolene’s before disappearing once again.
This time, as fucking errand boy. I’ll play along, for now.
***
“You know the drill, Garcia. You owe for the protection. If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with Jesse. That’s the deal.”
The portly, Hispanic man dangles from the end of the boat dock. Herc holds the man in the air by his ankles as if he were getting ready to release a piece of trash in the wind.
“Please! Please. Put. Me. Down.” The man pants.
“He won’t listen to you.” Troy chuckles while digging under his dirty nails with his pocket knife.
“The big guy only takes instructions from us.” Clint squats down to the ground. His elbows are resting on his knees as he bounces on toes.
I stifle laughter, letting the boys blow off some steam.
“Here’s what I think went down.” I pace the narrow pier, which doesn’t take long with my lengthy legs. “You got word from the grapevine,” I say as I stop and bend down to make strong eye contact with the fat man. “Always a bad idea.” I pace again. “You heard the Executioners were in trouble and took it upon yourself to alter our little agreement. And you thought you had a get out of jail free card. Am I right?”
“No, never.”
“Don’t insult me, Garcia. Herc doesn’t like it when people insult my intelligence. You think I’m just a dumb biker, is that it?”
“No! No, of course not. Por favor. Please, let me down.” Hector Garcia begins to cry like a baby. His upside-down belly heaves while nearly suffocating his bowling ball sized head.
“Are we going to have to come back down here and do this shit all over again, fat man? Because next time, we won’t play so nice.”
He shakes his round melon, his three chins following at high speed as he sobs.
“You’ll pay?” Clint asks from behind.
“Si’!”
“With a ten percent gratuity tip? Your idea, of course.”
“Que?” Garcia squirms like a worm dangling off the end of a h
ook.
“Herc,” I say and turn to walk away.
The Enforcer frees one hand, releasing the man’s left leg, leaving him looking like a broken kite caught in the wind.
“Wait! Ok, yes! Deal,” he begs.
Herc eyeballs me and I give a slight nod, allowing him to plant the man on the ground. Garcia swipes at this wet, plump cheeks.
“Gracias.” He thanks me for sparing his life, and taking his money.
We follow Hector Garcia back up the wobbly planks of wood to the warehouse long enough to collect our payday, making it clear that we would be back soon.
We move on to the next haul, finishing up the sixth run of the day.
“How about stopping for a drink?” Troy pulls a pack of Camels from his leather pocket.
I glance around between my brothers as they take turns shrugging.
The notion of a frosty cold one makes my dry mouth water. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
It doesn’t take long to find a shit hole to stop at and the first thing I do is throw back a shot of Jim Beam, savoring the burning sensation as it drives its way down my throat to my empty gut. Thoughts swirl in my cluttered brain.
The fuckery that Fugi had to say. The shit he had to show me. That shit was real. You can’t fake that kind of shit. I don’t know how much longer I can keep these secrets to myself.
“Hey, VP. You cool?” Troy sidles up to the stool next to me.
I chug from the iced over mug sitting on the bar. Wiping the head from my mustache with my sleeve, I bob my head. “Yeah, man. All good. How about you? Fitting in ok?”
“Shit, it’s a fucking ride, that’s for sure.” He snickers. “Things seem to be all over the place.”
I cock my head sideways. “What do you mean by that?
Troy swigs from his beer bottle. “Hey, man. I didn’t mean nothing by it. I’m just saying shit’s obvious. I have yet to make a run with the Prez. Wiz was a Prospect the same time Billy was. And what’s up with Stoner?”
I stare at the man long enough to make him visibly tense up as he starts to grind his teeth. I shake it off.
He’s not wrong.
“Round everyone up.” I toss back another shot of amber liquor, followed by the remainder of my bud, ignoring Troy’s scowl. He would have been a hell of a lot unhappier if I had addressed his out of place comments.
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