Exacting Revenge

by Kimmie Easley

  I jump an inch off the floor I’m mopping when the back door slams shut, frightened it might be Pop. I have yet to lay eyes on him since seeing him lying on the floor. I don’t want to see him dead, but I think the beating was justified.

  Turns out, it’s Wizard with an arm load of tools and a homemade door panel. He begins hammering and drilling, assembling the new bedroom door for Pop, yet nothing causes Ruth to stir.

  I work to muster up enough courage to go check on her when my cell vibrates in my back pocket. I eagerly tug it from the jeans, hoping to hear something from Ronin or Clint.

  Private number.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  (Ronin)

  My fiery insides burn. The winded bags in my chest fight to inflate like flat balloons. I impale the massive Sequoia with my mediocre fist.

  “Goddamn it!”

  “Well, what’d you expect? For the thousand-year-old tree to duck?” Clint smirks.

  “Really? You’re going to make fucking jokes right now?” I seethe.

  “Come on, brother. Let’s sit and talk.” He plucks a packed joint from inside his cut.

  “I don’t feel like a sermon.”

  He shakes his head, taking a long toke. “I got nothing, VP. That was some fucked up shit, but every bit of it was deserved.” He passes me the fatty. “I’ve never seen shit like that in my life.”

  “I can’t even look at her, man.” I pull a long drag into my scorching lungs, then another, welcoming the fuzzy sensation numbing my brain.

  “I should probably go talk to her.” I hang my head.

  “The girls got her. She’s good. What you need is a little time.”

  The strong weed loosens my muscles, causing my shoulders to sag. “I fucked up.”

  “No, man. He fucked up, big time. There’s no coming back from that kind of shit.”

  I crane my neck, making a loud popping sound. “That’s not what I mean.”

  Our conversation is cut short by the rumbling of the beat up old truck zipping out of the barn.

  We bolt for the cabin where we’re met by Jessa and Patsy, both standing in clear defiance.

  “Don’t think about.” Patsy raises a hand in the air.

  “Fuck that.” I bound up the steps.

  “Ronin, we sent Herc to shadow her.” Jessa reassures.

  As if on cue, the big man muscles his way out the screen door like the Incredible Hulk, offering a nod, flinging one towering leg over his sled and speeds away.

  Pain pierces my head like it’s in a vice, squeezing tighter with every heartbeat.

  Clint grips my forearm. “Let her go, brother. You’re not in the right frame of mind for this shit.”

  I comb my fingers through my disheveled hair. “Fine. But I want to know where she goes and who she’s with immediately.” I stalk through the house to find Wizard sitting guard outside Jesse’s room. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Keeping my Prez safe,” the dick responds with straight attitude.

  I refuse to take the bait.

  “Get Billy and Stoner in here to sit on Jesse and Wizard.” I direct Clint.

  “Me?” Wizard bows his narrow chest.

  “You are not to leave this cabin. And that is a fucking order.” I jab my finger deep into his flabby pect muscle. “Hand over your weapon.”

  “This is some bullshit.”

  “Stoner, if he tries to leave, do what you have to. No one goes in or out of that room except to use the shitter.”

  I whip my neck around to Billy. “Can you handle that?”

  “Sir.” Billy nods.

  Stoner makes solid eye contact.

  “You guys clear the room of weapons. Make sure the old man doesn’t talk to Ruth either. As long as she stays unconscious, it’s cool. If she’s coherent, get her in the other room and sit Jessa on her.”

  The savory flavor of roasted chicken drifts through the house. The bitches pick meat from the bone for the large pot of chicken and dumplings to feed the club. With everyone spread out all over the fucking county, grub has been on the go. No more family style meals.

  I find some of the brothers outside taking a smoke break.

  “Troy, you and Duke need to head back to the Clubhouse to get rid of Brad. Then send some of the prospects to San Diego to pack up his apartment and send in his resignation.”

  Clint waits until we’re alone. “What now?”

  I watch the soldiers roll out, with a few prospects in tow.

  With my back to my best friend, I weigh my next move. “Now, we talk.” The heaviness of the words hangs in the thick air. Rotating, I witness the downturned expression of concern on his face.

  “Maybe I should grab a beer first?”

  “Brother, you’re gonna need to grab the bottle of Beam for this shit.”

  ***

  I can’t wait any longer, so I dial Herc.

  Recognizing his familiar grunt, I start. “What’s the word, big guy?”

  “Thirty-two point- four miles. Diner. Met woman. Not followed. How to proceed?”

  “Good job. Stand down and stay out of sight. Make sure she gets back without a scratch, got it?”

  “VP.”

  Click

  What woman could she be meeting? Maybe it has something to do with her work, a lawyer or something?

  “You need to get in here!” Patsy opens a small crack in the screen door.

  I run, bounding up the steps three at a time. Jesse, Wizard, and Stoner are rolling down the hallway like a snowball gaining speed. Billy is trying to break them apart and Jessa holds a gun on the human globe.

  “Everybody get out!” The girls scatter in all directions, except for Patsy and Jessa, while Clint, Billy and I put the three men into choke holds. “Girl, get that weapon outside. Patsy, get her out of here!”

  Stoner throws his hands in the air, but the others must be subdued.

  “What the fuck happened?” Adrenaline steeps through my hysterical body as I shove Stoner into the wall.

  “Hey, now.” Clint clenches my arm, pulling me away. “Keep this shit focused, brother. I know what you’re thinking, but this isn’t the right time, place, or person.”

  I shake my head. The thoughts rattle around like haunted skeletons. I see Stoner’s anxious eyes for the first time, not realizing whose throat is in my death grasp.

  I release my white-knuckle grip. “Shit, man, I’m sorry.”

  “VP, it’s not you. It’s cool.”

  “I’ll make it right. I promise.” I spot the two mounds on the floor. Lock them in the shed outside. Padlocks and chains.”

  Stoner and Billy mimic the same shocked expression.

  Clint steps in. “This isn’t a vote action, brothers. I’ll explain everything. But if we don’t do this, people are gonna die. When Ruth comes to, you’ll have all the confirmation you need. Locking him up is being generous.”

  With every syllable, my chest tightens. I’m thankful they don’t ask questions. Each throw a body over their shoulder, marching out the back door.

  I jerk my head and Clint follows to ensure everything is done properly. No fuck ups this time.

  I smooth my rough hands over my beard, wrenching the ends into a tight helix of dark strands.

  “You know you’re gonna have to fill them in.” Clint sneaks up behind me, catching me off guard, lost in my thoughts.

  “Yeah, I will. When Herc gets back, sit him on the shed. I’m going to check on Ruth. Get to work on the clean-up at the Clubhouse.”

  “On it.” He pokes his head in the bedroom door. “Patsy, I’ll be outside handling some business if you need me, baby.”

  “Hey, how are things going in here? She still out?” My heart sinks at the vision of Ruth laid out flat, lifeless. Jessa is propped up in the double bed beside her, dabbing the gushing sweat with a cold washcloth. “Well, she’s out of it, if that counts.”

  “She’s moved a little, but it’s taking her a hell of time to come around.” Patsy dabs Ruth’s cracked
, gray, parted lips with Chapstick. “I say, if she hasn’t done it on her own within the next hour or so, we get her in the shower.”

  “I agree. I’ll have Clint spell Stoner, so he can check on her before then.”

  “Jo back yet?”

  I shake my head, fighting the urge to ride down to the diner, throw her across the back of my bike, lock her in the bedroom, and give her ass a good smack or three.

  Even in the middle of fucking chaos, my dick twitches.

  Get a goddamn grip.

  “Let me know when she gets back, ok?”

  “Sure thing,” I say, trying to smile. Jessa’s efforts are obvious. She’s been clean and sober. Her head clear. And thank the fucking saints because I don’t know how much more any of us can handle. The little trouble maker might have actually grown up.

  It’s a good thing too, she’s going to need some maturity to weather the storm that’s coming.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  (Jolene)

  I seize the cold car handle. The metal sends a tingling sensation through my numb body. My tongue is coated in bitter, black coffee. The roar from my empty stomach goes unnoticed. I sat at the table, listening to the mysterious woman, shoving eggs and hash browns around on the plate, unable to trust my queasy tummy to take a bite.

  Now, I’m left with this huge, un-fucking-believable information and I don’t what to do with it…

  I shift gears, the only thing that keeps me focused on the road. Images of driving the old beater with Pop flash through my mind.

  Ruth.

  I never thought much about the life she had before coming into our lives. She’s been a mother to so many. She’s impacted the lives of people she has never even met.

  The club life has seeped into my core and taken root. It’s beyond second nature. It’s etched on my soul in the shape of a massive X.

  That’s why I was able to spot Herc the moment he parked down from the diner, parking behind a semi-trailer. Now, he’s shadowing me, and not doing a very good job. He looks like an elephant on a toddler bike. He’s too big of a fucker to try and hide.

  I position the antique Chevy under the carport next to the shed and immediately notice the new guard dogs.

  “What’s this?”

  Billy folds his arms across his broad chest. “Better talk to the VP.”

  I cut my gaze at Stoner.

  “Sorry, Jo.”

  I roll my eyes and storm inside where I find Ronin pacing.

  “Where the hell have you been? You left without saying a fucking word!”

  “Oh, come on. You knew exactly where I was.”

  He cringes.

  “Don’t play dumb,” I add. “Don’t you think I would notice a three-hundred and fifty-pound man on a Harley following me on an empty Highway?”

  He wiggles his full lips. Cocking his head to the left, he smirks. “Yeah, maybe that wasn’t the smartest move. I probably could have sent someone else.”

  I rest my hands in the center of his rock-hard chest. “Ya think?” Standing on my utmost tippy toes, he dips his head for me to graze his mouth.

  “Well? Who was she?”

  I arch my brows. “You aren’t going to believe it. Not in a million fucking years.”

  Just as we get ready to walk outside, a crashing thud comes from the back of the house.

  We bolt for the back room, barreling through the door. A half-naked Ruth lies on the floor surrounded by Jessa and Patsy.

  “Oh, shit,” Ronin fumbles.

  I blindly reach behind me. “Yeah, maybe you should go.”

  I assume he leaves. My only reaction is to cover Ruth with a blanket and assess the situation.

  “What happened?”

  “I fell asleep while Patsy took a shower. I guess she woke up. Thought she had somewhere to go. I have no idea.”

  “I should have just waited.”

  “Patsy, it’s not your fault. It’s not Jessa’s either. At least she’s coming around. That’s a good sign.”

  My sister stands over Ruth. “Wanna move her to the bed?”

  The three of us labor to lift her dead weight in the air. The movement doesn’t settle well with the toxic swill consuming her body as it rebels, hurling its contents all over the floor.

  “Looks like the shower it is then.” Patsy runs to start the water.

  The rancid stench of bile assaults my nose, causing me to gag.

  “Bonnie,” I shout.

  “Yeah?” She bounds into the room, promptly backing away. “Shit, do I have to take care of that?”

  “Not if you can find a prospect. I want it spotless and sanitized by the time we’re done. Good luck.”

  Holding her up in the shower doesn’t work, so we allow her to sit in the tub while Patsy soaps her down. I take inventory of her wounds. The needle marks are sick. “She needs some antiseptic on those and it probably wouldn’t hurt for us to get our hands on some strong antibiotics.”

  “Need to get her started on some broth soup. She’s about as thin as me!”

  Damn, Jessa poking fun at herself.

  Never thought I’d see the day.

  “UUhhh.” Ruth’s soaking wet head rolls half-circle.

  I drop to my knees. “Hey, can you hear me?” I give a light pop on her gaunt cheek.

  Her face distorts. “SSsssss,” she hisses.

  “Yeah, that’s it.” I use my thumbs to pry open her eyelids. She darts her eyeballs back and forth, but at least I can make out the blue irises.

  “Ruth, say something.” Jessa angles over my shoulder.

  “I don’t think she’s up for conversing just yet. How’s the bedroom looking?”

  Patsy doubles back to survey the damage. “Someone’s already taken care of it.”

  “Let’s get her dry and in a nightgown so Stoner can get her doctored up and back to bed.”

  I leave the girls to handle their business.

  I stop in to check on Pop and see the destruction in the bedroom.

  “What the hell happened?” I spin, making firm eye contact with Ronin in the kitchen.

  His gaze is locked on mine as his long, strong legs stride toward me.

  “About that,” he starts. “Your old man and Wizard attacked Stoner. It got fucking ugly. There was no way to keep them in lock down in the cabin.”

  The notion of my father locked in shed sends a sob blocking my airway. “Is that really necessary?”

  “Darlin, I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t.”

  One tear slips. He swipes it away with the back of his hand. I grab it, pressing his full palm to my mouth, kissing his warm skin.

  “You have to trust me.” His words drip with sincerity and warmth.

  “I know, baby.”

  He envelops me in a melting embrace. My head hits that perfect spot in his chest that consoles me. I could live here, in this spot. Wrapped up in him.

  “I’m going to clean up Pop’s room. It’s a wreck, not to mention disgusting.”

  “We got a lot of shit to catch up on,” he warns.

  “You don’t have to remind me. But I would like to get Ruth back in her own bed.”

  He wags one brow. “Yeah, me too.” He grabs his crotch, giving it a good shake.

  “Looks like after we slop down some chow, we have dessert covered. You’re all mine, darlin. It’s time to blow off some steam.”

  You got that shit right.” I try to ignore the dampness between my legs. It’s not hard when I turn back to the disaster of a bedroom.

  “Want some help?” Tammy hauls an armload of cleaning supplies down the narrow corridor.

  “Thanks, but I think I’d better handle it. Besides, looks like we got some hungry bikers pulling up.”

  The growling parade of Harleys send the bitches scattering into action. From the sound of the deep fryer, it’s going to be a heavy supper.

  The thought makes my stomach pitch. This day has taken too much of a toll. Nothing edible is getting down this dry, scratchy gullet.

/>   I enter my parents’ bedroom, still taking in the ludicrous mess. Nasty clothes litter the floor, with empty beer cans and liquor bottles. Half burnt cigarettes line the end tables with ash all over the hardwood. Seared holes have been burned into the rugs and mattress, which is hanging recklessly off the old box spring.

  I snap open a Hefty bag and start tossing in trash, working my way across the room.

  I’m making progress, until I strip the sheets, pulling the bed further apart. I throw the linens into the hallway and fight to realign the frame my finger’s skim the zipper.

  ***

  “Hey, got some Neosporin on those marks?” I ask.

  Stoner’s busy applying bandages to Ruth’s open wounds. “Yeah, about done. I still had some antibiotics left over from the last time Herc had the shrapnel dug out of his face. Started her on that.”

  “Good, she talking yet?”

  “A little,” Ruth squeaks.

  My heart leaps in my chest. The sensation of elation feels foreign, sending tingling to my fingers and toes.

  “Woman, it is damn good to hear your voice.” I glance over at Jessa. She hasn’t left her mother’s side. Patsy is keeping herself occupied with busy work. “Well, I hate to break you away, but I have your room ready. How about we go have a little chit chat?”

  “I guess I don’t have a choice, huh?”

  I tilt my head, narrowing my gaze. “Nope.”

  Stoner disappears. Patsy’s the second to go. Jessa waits around for an invite that doesn’t come. With an abandoned gaze, she exits, using a smoke break for an excuse.

  I get Ruth situated, making certain she’s comfortable.

  “How you feeling?” I pass her a bottle of water.

  She holds it between two shaking hands, spilling droplets down her fresh night shirt.

  “I’ve felt better.” Ruth sips through split and peeling lips. “At least I’m here.”

  A heavy sigh escapes. “Some of us weren’t so sure that would happen.”