Angels & Sinners: The Motor City Edition

by Ashley Suzanne

  Later that evening as he lay in bed, Des thought about what was coming next and all of the excitement that the changes would bring. He set his alarm for the next morning and turned on his iPod. Since he was a kid, he‘d always needed music on so he could fall asleep. When he closes his eyes, the first verse of, “Bless the Broken Road,” begins to play. The words seem to come straight from his heart. They speak of going down a narrow way and finding a true love along that broken road. Des feels like the words are his words about his life.

  As his mind started to shut down, and he drifted towards sleep, Des realized how true this song reflected his life. Deep down he wanted, no needed to find that one person that completed him. And shit, he had gotten lost a time or twenty. But, he had come to realize where the road had been leading him to, time again. Dee Dee was always at the end of his road. He just needed to get there in one piece.

  CHAPTER 9—THE FUTURE

  With the beginning of a new day with the sun starting to rise, Des is woken from a deep sleep by the light filtering through his blinds. Stretching his arms above his head, he runs his hands through his hair and climbs out of bed. Des is hoping that today is a better day than yesterday; with all the drama, and then his reflections of his crew at Wheels and Hogs. Going down memory lane, remembering how they all came to him made Des realize how truly blessed he is, having all of them in his life.

  After taking care of business in the bathroom, running some water over his face, and brushing his teeth, Des heads to the kitchen. He can still smell the pizza he ate for dinner the previous evening. He starts the coffee and heads to his office. He has a lot of work to do in order to get his plan in place. After sitting at his desk he thinks about the enormous task he has taken on, but he knows Doc and Fern are worth it.

  After Des spoke to Doc, two weeks ago, he knew something had to be done. The tests Fern had undergone showed that her cancer had not gone into remission, but had continued to grow. That meant the treatment course they were currently on wasn’t working. The next step would be to go to a stronger treatment and that meant a bone marrow transplant. The thought shook Des to his core, because if they couldn’t find a donor or it didn’t work, it meant they would lose Fern. That is not an option he is willing to accept.

  Des headed back to the kitchen, poured himself a cup of Jo and added some cream from the fridge. Looking out his window to the deck he sees two squirrels playing around the furniture. The sight brings a smile to his face; he realizes the simplest things in life can bring a smile to your face and lighten the load in your heart.

  Back in his office he opens the file on his desk, and then turns on his computer. He has some research to do so when he presents the plan to his crew they will understand that he had done his due diligence in order to help the Murphys. He wants to show them that the plan isn’t just a long shot, but could actually be a cure for their beloved Fern. Looking at his emails, he sees a response email from the Bone Marrow Registry. Opening it, he finds one of the longest emails he has ever received. Setting his coffee down, he begins reading. The contact from the Registry, Sue Thompson had gone into extreme detail to explain how they would be able to assist with the plan Des concocted. According to Sue, the registry was in need of donors so she thought that if Wheels & Hogs did a Charity ride for Fern and included the registry both Fern and the Registry greatly benefit. Fern could get her donor, God willing, and the registry would be able to increase their donor population. Des had no idea about all of the regulations and rules that were involved in the undertaking he had planned, but he was determined.

  After reading Sue’s email he starts opening the list of attachments she’d forwarded to him. Holy shit, he is going to need an attorney to look over all of these forms. His initial plan was to have the entire donor related information at the end of the charity ride in his small town in Indiana. He figured that would be the easiest way to keep this under control. Sue has other ideas about setting up something similar to kiosks at all the stops so if someone who has signed up for the ride decides they don’t want to do the entire ride they can still be tested by the organization.

  After printing up all the forms Des continued to go through his emails. Some of them were junk, but a couple were from some of his brothers in MC clubs confirming that they were on board to help out Doc and Fern. Des starts taking notes on which clubs had responded and how they wanted to get involved with this Charity ride.

  There were two main objectives to this ride. To raise money to assist Doc and Fern with all they’re outstanding hospital bills and their personal bills including their mortgage. Second to assist the donor registry so maybe they could find a match for Fern.

  Des has researched the process to be a donor and depending on how they obtained a sample either by cheek swab or a blood test that gets you on the donor list. If you match an additional blood test will be necessary.

  Des starts taking down some notes. There was so much to do and he realized that he could not do this all by himself. He had his MC Brothers already on board from as far as California to his neighbors in Illinois. Writing down each club that responded along with what they either wanted to participate in or donate to the cause. The list continued to grow as he went through the emails on his computer.

  Once he completed the MC information, he starts to arrange the emails by importance to the cause. Some emails were in reply from his original requesting donations of any kind. After counting twenty or more he knew the meeting with crew had to happen sooner rather than later. Printing all these emails up; he puts them in a file, which he writes on the tab ‘Donations’.

  Next he reviews the email from Doc regarding all of their outstanding debt. Des takes a deep breath not realizing how bad it was. Even with the group health plan through Wheels and Hogs a lot of the treatments and medications are either excluded or at a high cost according to Doc. Not to mention if the treatment was experimental and there was a cost, it would generally be financially draining as the group medical didn’t cover little or no of experimental procedures and pharmaceutical costs. The final number was staggering to Des. How the hell have Doc and Fern managed knowing they were drowning in debt? This additional pressure was something neither of them needed at this time in their lives. From what Doc has relayed to Des, Fern was getting weaker every day. The new treatment was to start in the next couple of weeks. They were trying to build up her immune system, because it was so beaten from all the prior treatments. ‘Fuck, how could this happen to such a nice couple’, Des thinks.

  Spending a couple of hours outlining his ideas on paper helped him prepare to involve his people. If nothing else Des wanted to be prepared to answer any and all of their questions to the best of his ability. Des goes through his day; his mind starts to realize the enormous project he has taken on for his friends. This could turn out two ways and Des is hoping for the first. It could be the best Charity ride ever; raising enough money to assist the Murphy’s with all of their outstanding debt. More importantly they find a donor for Fern so her fight with this cancer can finally be over. Or it can turn out to be a bust and that would let Fern and Doc down. Des was starting to feel the pressure of his undertaking. He was going to need assistance to make this a success. Des was hoping and praying that the crew at Wheels and Hogs had the same inspiration to help their friends as he did. It was time to get off his ass and present this to them. Time was ticking by and they had a deadline to get this Charity Ride done. Weather in Indiana wasn’t the most co-operative.

  For his business and his employees there were a lot of changes coming to Wheels and Hogs both professionally and personally and Des hoped everyone was ready to take that wild ride with him.

  Little does he know that this decision is going to be the beginning of a new chapter regarding both his professional and personal life!

  Nothing will ever be the same at Wheels & Hogs. The winds of change are in the air, and time will tell if what is coming will be phenomenal or totally shitty for all involved.

 
To be continued. . .

  IN DREAMS

  Heather Mullins

  PROLOGUE

  HOPE

  I hate this ankle biting Yorkie as much as I hate its owner. If I could, I’d get rid of this client, but any business is good business, right? I own a mobile pet grooming company, Squeaky Clean, and so far it’s doing well. But today, I’m thanking everything that’s holy that as soon as I drop off Jeanie Costa’s Yorkshire terrier, I’m done for the day.

  I usually enjoy walking the dogs down Hines Drive because it's one of the last truly beautiful areas left in the Detroit area. After everything that’s happened, I’m always looking over my shoulder because I feel like I’m being watched. Hines Drive doesn’t calm me like it usually does, and I find myself rushing the dog so we can get out of here. With the sound of footsteps behind me, fear settles in my soul, causing me to start pulling the dog along.

  “Oh my God, will you just pee already!” I scream at the dog when it stops for the millionth time. Fear hits me full force and I’m about to just pick up the damn dog and run when Gigi growls. A large, calloused hand grips my shoulder and spins me around. I swing my arms, trying like hell to strike my attacker, but hit nothing but air. As soon as I recognize him, anger quickly replaces fear.

  “Fuck! You scared me half to death!”

  “I’m sorry, Hope. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, looking away.

  “What are you doing in this area, anyway? You don’t live around here.” The hair on the back of my neck is standing up and a frisson of disquiet travels down my spine. I mean, what are the odds that he’d be on the same street as me, when neither of us lives in this area?

  “I can’t wait any longer,” he whispers.

  “What?” I choke out, uneasiness creeping into my gut. I look around and realize there is not a single person or car in sight. Smart move, Hope. Put yourself in a dangerous situation by not paying attention to your surroundings.

  “I’m done waiting for you.” He lunges toward me, the black metal butt of a pistol gripped in his raised hand. He hits me on the head with such force that I actually see stars and feel incredible pain shoot through my temple. The momentum of the blow makes me think my brain shifted in my skull. I stumble backward, and the last thing I see is Gigi biting my attacker’s leg.

  ***

  As I regain consciousness, I’m petrified when I can’t see my surroundings. When my eyes adjust to the dimly lit room, it becomes evident that I’m no longer outside, and I’ve been hogtied.

  I can feel the bile rise in the back of my throat as I glance around the room. The painted walls are yellowed and peeling. An old, battered wooden chair is nearby, and a dented bucket sits off in the corner. It’s the mattress that does me in, stained from top to bottom with a piss-covered top that reeks of decay. I take a few deep breaths and swallow back the rising vomit in my throat.

  It’s finally happened; that psycho finally kept his promises. As my heart and breathing quicken, I’m too scared to think straight. I force myself to take calming breaths so I can try and figure out how to get out of here. I try to get a better idea of my location, but all that’s visible is a window, most of the glass covered with boards.

  A loud shattering sound echoes from the next room, reminding me that I’m not alone. Pretending I’m still out, I hear heavy footsteps approaching and sense my stalker standing over me. He bends down and runs his fingers through my hair in an intimate gesture.

  “I’ve loved you forever, Hope; I wish you could see that.” He grabs a handful of my hair and seeing me wince seems to piss him off. Apparently realizing I was faking, he pulls me by my hair to the edge of the mattress and slams my head to the floor. It makes a sickening thud sound as it hits followed by an instant, nauseating throbbing. Warm liquid, probably my blood, drips down the side of my face into my mouth. The metallic taste fuels my fear—and my anger. I thrash against the bindings in an attempt to free myself but only manage to cause the filthy rope to dig deeper into my wrists and ankles, leaving me raw and bleeding.

  “I waited so long for you, baby, but you never gave me a chance. I do so many nice things for you, and you don’t even have the manners to say thank you.” He turns to look at me, venom in his eyes. I stop struggling as I shake my head to try and clear my thoughts and possibly ease the throbbing. I hope my fear is not evident to him.

  Deep breaths, Hope, you’ve to get a grip if you want to live.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “What difference does it make? You don’t give a shit either way.” He starts to pace and seems to become more agitated. He fists his hands into his dark hair, pulling on the ends. I twist my left wrist, wincing in pain from the rope digging into my abraded flesh, but I feel the rope slowly giving way. Every time he glances in my direction, I freeze as my fear creeps higher. I’m praying he doesn’t notice what I’m doing.

  “I never wanted it to end this way, but you have left me with no other choice. I can’t keep watching you every day, knowing you won’t be mine.” He stops pacing to look at me, pulls a roll of duct tape out of his jacket pocket as he saunters over to me twirling the roll around his finger with an evil smirk on his face.

  “Please don’t do this.” Tears are streaming down my face. “I’ll do anything you want. Please. I’m sorry, I didn’t know sooner; let me make it up to you.” I try to sound genuine, but fear overcomes me and my words sound shaky and unsure.

  “MAKE IT UP TO ME?” he yells. “It’s too late for empty promises, Hope. Just shut the fuck up. I won’t listen to your bullshit anymore.” Before I can even open my mouth, he slaps me in the face so hard my head whips back. The sound of my neck cracking reverberates throughout the room. The force of the blow causes my jaw to clamp down so hard I bite into my tongue, the blood pooling in my mouth.

  He kneels down to get eye level with me, and I spit the mixture of blood and saliva in his face. “You bitch!” He rises up and wipes his face. Finally pulling a hand free, I punch him as hard as I can in the groin. Grabbing his crotch, he falls sideways with a loud groan, writhing in pain.

  Frantically kicking my legs free, knowing my life depends on getting away, I run to the door, throw it open, and come face to face with complete darkness. My heart racing, I pick a direction and pray it’s the right one.

  “Hope, get back here!” he yells.

  Shit, he’s getting up.

  I dodge into a room as he stumbles out, crashing into a table, causing him to yell in pain. “Where the fuck are you? When I find you, so help me God, you’ll be sorry, bitch,” he growls. Looking around the moonlit room I spot what looks like a small closet. I get in, moving the nasty, ratty clothing that still hangs there aside and close the door behind me. Pressing myself up against the wall, the only sounds are my heavy breathing and rapid heartbeat.

  “I know you’re here, you can’t hide from me, you stupid slut.” His voice gets louder and I know he’s only seconds from entering the room. My panic reaches new heights as I push myself to the back of the closet and close my eyes like a child. If I can’t see him then he can’t see me. . .right? Suddenly, the door flies open and I cover my mouth to silence my scream. Grabbing the first limb he sees, he yanks my battered body from the small enclosure, knocking the wind out of me as my back slams against the hardwood floor.

  “Ah ha, gotcha bitch,” he laughs. “Now it’s time to pay for being such a whore and teasing me all the time.” Placing his foot on my neck, holding me in place, I gasp for air. He jerks my arms behind my back, nearly dislocating my shoulder. My struggling doesn’t deter him, and he ties the ropes tighter than he did the first time.

  “Just stop fighting this, Hope.” When I continue to try and get free, he sneers and punches me in the face. Blood gushes from my nose, mixing with the dark pools that flow from my mouth and head. My face throbs and my tongue burns from the salt in my tears as he finishes his work, quickly leaving me totally at his mercy. Pulling a switch
blade out of his scuffed combat boot, he flicks it open, and slowly drags the double-edged blade lightly up my body, stopping when the cold steel touches my cheek, smearing the blood that has continued to run down my face. Closing my eyes tightly, I pray he won’t use it, but I silently begin to say my goodbyes.

  “You are so beautiful, Hope. I could’ve given you the world. Can you not see how much I love you, what you mean to me? Do you know how bad it hurts watching you from afar when you should have been mine? DO YOU?” His breathing becomes more ragged as he shoves the knife under my shirt. I hold my breath, knowing where this is going. He cuts through my shirt, the knife razor-sharp, and then makes quick work of my bra, leaving me naked from the waist up.

  “You. Are. Mine. Hope. I believe it’s finally time to take what’s mine.” I start to struggle against the ropes until I feel the edge of the knife at my throat. “Move again, slut, and I will cut your throat end to end and watch the life drain from your body.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  ANGELO

  “Angelo, when are you going to find a nice girl and settle down? Your father and I are not getting any younger,” Mama asks, placing a plate of her mouthwatering cheesy lasagna in front of me.

  Sighing, I say the same thing I always say, “When my angel finds me, Mama.”

  “But you’re such a handsome boy, Angelo. Look at all that hair,” Mama runs her fingers through my jet black, almost blue hair. Grabbing the side of my face, her darkest of brown eyes, identical to mine, stare deeply with a tinge of sadness hidden underneath. “I just want some grandbabies before I die, Angelo. Don’t hurt your mama.”

  “Maybe you should become a priest, since that’s the only way you will find an angel with that ugly mug of yours,” jokes Mateo. Leave it to my brother to have a smart ass comment. Matt, the youngest of four, is the most obnoxious of us all.