by Jessie Cooke
Sabrina slammed the refrigerator door shut and let out a curse word that she’d never used before. “Mom!” Talia still didn’t answer. As Sabrina made her way down the hallway to her mother’s room, she began to worry that he did show up, and they’d just skipped everything and gone straight to the bedroom. Coyote was expecting her to be there. Talia had told him they were having a “family” night, but she planned to surprise him with a romantic one instead. The door to her mother’s bedroom was cracked open, and praying she didn’t see anything she wasn’t supposed to, she peeked inside. Talia was lying on top of the comforter, still in her pretty red dress. She was asleep, but her face looked like she hadn’t been that way for long. Her mascara was in streaks down her face and her eyes were red and swollen. Sabrina whispered the curse again. Tiptoeing away so as not to wake her mother, she went back to the kitchen to get her phone. She was going to give that asshole a piece of her mind. She started to dial…and that’s when she spotted the lovingly wrapped gift on the counter. She went over and looked at the tag. It said, “To the love of my life, Happy 2009.” Sabrina put the tag down and erased the name she’d typed into her phone. Her heart physically ached for her mother, but she thought about how hard Talia had worked Sabrina’s entire life, to keep her from ever seeing her sad. Sabrina didn’t know if that was a good thing, or a bad thing…but she knew it was important to her mother.
Still boiling inside with rage, she snuck back out the front door and locked it behind her. For the next three hours, she sat at the park down the street, not going home until she was sure her mother would be up, and the night before would be put away. She wasn’t going to tell Talia that she knew the asshole hadn’t shown up…but Sabrina was going to make sure that 2009 wasn’t that asshole’s year.
Bruf woke, slowly. His head was pounding and the light coming in through the window wasn’t helping matters. Something heavy was lying on his chest and when he got his eyes open, he realized it was Sammy. Sammy was one of the new girls in the club and Bruf had been with her several times now. She was hot and she would do anything…he liked that. But right then, he just wanted her off him. He rolled over to the right, which rolled her off him and onto the bed. She didn’t flinch. They had drunk a lot the night before and smoked a lot of weed. He was glad they had sex in her room so he didn’t have to worry about getting her out of his.
As he climbed out of the bed and looked for his clothes, he thought about Wolf the night before. Bruf knew Wolf did Trisha sometimes, but he had no idea there were feelings involved. There would have to be, judging by the way his friend had attacked Cinch. He wondered how they were both feeling this morning and laughed when he bet they were both glad Coyote wasn’t around. Bruf wondered about that. Coyote seemed to take off by himself a lot lately. He supposed he couldn’t blame him. Shit around the club had to get old when you were the guy everyone was always looking to for answers.
He finished gathering his things and left the room, locking the door on his way out. His room was only a few steps away, at the end of the hall. He opened the door with his key and stepped on something as soon as he was inside. He realized it was his mail. He’d gone on the run yesterday and hadn’t been back to his room since he left early that morning. One of the girls must have stuck his mail underneath the door while he was gone. He bent down and picked it up, shuffling through the usual, but coming to a dead stop on the last one. He walked over to the desk and put everything down except the worn, slightly dirty envelope in his hands. It was postmarked from Germany and the date was June 2007, almost two years ago. That might have been the most surprising thing about the letter if not for the return address. The letter was from Rebekah…Beck…the beautiful, blonde-haired, sex-starved goddess that he’d taken a beating from Coyote for fucking.
Bruf sat in the desk chair and stared at the envelope for a while before he finally picked up a letter opener and slid it open. The paper inside was yellowed, and it reminded him of the spiral notebooks they used to issue them in the army. Bruf never tried to contact anyone at home when he was in the service, but he had heard stories about people getting discharged and home and then receiving one of the letters they themselves had sent home to their family, years later. He mostly wondered what she would be writing to him about. The letter was only one page and he was a little disappointed that she hadn’t enclosed a picture. It had been long enough since the ass-kicking that he wouldn’t mind seeing her again, if only in a sexy photograph.
He opened the letter and began to read. A smile played at his lips while the image of her leaning on that Harley with her sexy butt pointed in his direction danced in his head.
“Dear Bruf,
I’m not sure if you remember me. I am sure you biker types fuck a lot of women. I’m not judging, mind you. I like sex myself. That day in my parents’ shed was hot. I hope Coyote didn’t hurt you too bad.” He shook his head. He could almost picture her smiling when she wrote that. She was definitely a character. “Anyway, I’m guessing you’re surprised to hear from me, even if you do remember. I wasn’t even going to write this at all…but I had to spend time with a gunny here in Germany on base…and he was telling me this sob-ass story about his wife aborting his baby while he was out on the boat. That seemed so shitty to me that I guess I felt the need for a confession, you know, in case I die in an explosion or shipwreck or something. So…I’m not sure if you noticed that day because there was a lot going on…but that big ol’ erection of yours popped that condom like a cheap balloon. So you can probably guess what’s coming next, right? Yeah, you knocked me up.”
Bruf stopped there. The panic in his chest was so heavy that he felt like he couldn’t get a breath in. He had a kid? Fuck. Coyote was going to fucking kill him. She couldn’t have told him yet, or he wouldn’t even still be alive to read the letter. He tossed it on the desk, like it was on fire, and pushed the chair back. That wasn’t good enough. He still couldn’t breathe. He stood up and paced over to the window. He unlocked it and pushed it open, knocked the screen out, and stuck his head outside. He gulped in a few breaths, but that only seemed to make it worse. Shit! He brought his head back inside, paced some more, went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, thought about throwing up…and went back over to the desk. Fuck. He didn’t want to read the rest of it, but his head was calculating, and if the kid was born in 2006, that meant he had a three-year-old out there…somewhere. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe she had an abortion? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He thought about throwing up again, and then finally picked the letter back up and read from where he left off.
“Okay…done having your anxiety attack?” Bruf was beginning to think Coyote kicked the wrong ass. This girl was a mess. Or maybe, he was just pissed that she was right. “The kid was a girl. She was healthy, and of course since she had our genes, beautiful. But a kid just wasn’t in the plans for me. I’m still on track to be the first woman Navy SEAL someday…maybe someday soon. They let me have her on base and put her up for adoption to one of the officers and his wife. They’re good people, better than me, anyway. He’s going to be a general someday and the kid won’t want for nothing. I don’t know if any of that even matters to you. You’re probably asking yourself why the hell did I even tell you. Truth is, I don’t know. I just felt like unburdening my own soul to someone, I guess…and since you helped make her, I thought you might be the guy.
So that’s it, soldier, confession over and I’ve got to get back to work. I hope your life is good. I’m killing it over here. Love, Beck.
Oh, PS or whatever, don’t tell Coyote!”
A knock on his door had Bruf shoving the paper and envelope into the desk drawer and slamming it shut. Sledge, full of himself after his adventure yesterday and with his new road name, said, “Hey, Bruf! You ready to go? We got work to do. Gotta get 2009 started right!” Bruf laughed, to keep from crying, maybe. 2009 had already started…with a bang.
35
Six Months Later
“What?�
�� Bruf and Coyote were sitting in the middle of nowhere, somewhere on the outskirts of a place called Pixley. Wolf and some of the other guys had gone to pick up a load of guns and they were meeting the buyers there. Coyote had taken Bruf and gone in two hours early, just to make sure they weren’t being set up. Manson was working on a deal on the north end of the valley with another group of guys. Meeks had kept to his promise and it seemed to Coyote like the ginger bastard was everywhere, but at least he couldn’t be in both places at once. It was annoying as hell, though. Coyote was constantly having to look for new places to meet and new routes to take to get there. It put him in a bad mood, but everything did lately. For one thing, it was hotter than hell. It was only early June and he was already tired of sweating. Some days he really, really missed the East Coast. The other reason he was in such a bad mood was Talia. She’d been putting him off every time he called since New Year’s. At first, because she was polite about it, he thought she was just legitimately busy. But as time went on, he started thinking maybe she was pissed that he hadn’t shown up on New Year’s Eve. But seriously…how fucking long can a person hold a stupid grudge like that?
“Nothing,” Bruf said. Speaking of bad moods. Coyote hadn’t heard the kid say two words in months. He wondered if he was going for that dark, edgy reputation, or if his puppy had died, or what the fuck was going on.
“You say that every time I ask you.”
“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Boss.”
“You need to get laid?”
Bruf chuckled. At least he got a smile out of him. “No, Boss. I get laid plenty.”
“Then why are you always so pissy lately?”
“Just haven’t had anything to put me in a good mood lately, I guess.”
“Shit. We have to sit out here in this heat for two fucking hours, I should have sent you to pick up the guns and kept Sledge. He’s at least not a fucking sad sack all the time.”
“Sorry, Boss.”
“A little conversation would be nice.”
Bruf looked like he might smile again. Coyote wasn’t normally itching for conversation, but he’d gotten used to talking to Talia and Sabrina…and they had just cut him off. Wolf wasn’t a talker, and neither was Manson. It seemed like the guys who were talkers got on his nerves and the ones that weren’t annoyed him lately because they wouldn’t say a fucking thing. Maybe it was just people in general he was annoyed with. “Okay, Boss…so how are things with you?”
“That’s a little broad,” Coyote said. “If you want to start a conversation, hit on a specific topic. Jeez!”
“Um…okay, how’s Beck?” Coyote narrowed his eyes at him. Neither of them had mentioned that day in over four years.
“Why you asking about her?”
“No reason, Boss. Just making conversation like you asked me to.”
“Last I heard, she was doing okay. Still in the Navy, I guess.”
“That’s good.” They sat in silence again and Coyote started thinking back to that day, and how pissed he’d been at Bruf. He felt bad about that from time to time. The kid was just doing what any healthy, red-blooded male would have done in the same situation. He didn’t force himself on her. It was actually more of the opposite—Beck was coming on to him, strong. Sarah told him that Beck seemed to have no inhibitions when it came to sex, and it worried her. Coyote saw that day that she wasn’t exaggerating.
“Hey…you know, I didn’t mean to kick your ass so hard that day.”
“It’s okay, Boss. I had it coming.”
“Nah, you didn’t, really. Beck has…well, her mother says she has some issues around sex.”
“Issues?”
“You know, she’s…loose.” Coyote wasn’t about to call Beck a slut. He still felt like she was part his and he would die protecting her. “Loose” didn’t sound as bad.
“Oh, I guess it’s good she never turned up pregnant.”
Coyote frowned. “I guess. She’s busy saving the world. I reckon a kid would get in the way of all that.”
“Yeah,” Bruf said, sadly, “I imagine it would.”
“Jeez, you’re a sad sack!” Coyote said again. He was relieved to see the dirt that the van was stirring up as it came toward them down the long dirt road. At least he hoped it was the van. Hell, whoever it was would have to be more exciting than Bruf. He’d had better conversations with himself.
The van pulled up a few seconds later, bringing a cloud of dust along with it. Sledge, Maz, and Cinch stepped out of the van. Coyote looked at Cinch and it dawned on him that he’d been in a bad mood lately too. Maybe it was something in the water. “Where’s Wolf? In the back?”
Maz and Sledge looked nervous; that wasn’t a good sign. Cinch was the one that spoke up. “We picked up a tail around Bakersfield, again.”
“Fuck. Meeks?”
“Yeah,” Cinch said, “think so. Wolf had us stop at this twenty-four-hour diner off the freeway. We all went inside and Wolf took us to the furthest booth in the back. He left us there and went in the kitchen and a few minutes later he came back and told us to order food.”
“Why is it every one of you tells a story like an old fucking grandmother?” Coyote said. “Will you get to the point?”
“Sorry, Boss. Long story short, we ate and Wolf disappeared while we were doing that. When he came back, he told us to go out through the kitchen and wait for his text before we took off. We got a text from him a few minutes later. We did what he said and came straight here.”
“Without the tail?”
“Yeah. The guy was in his car waiting when we passed him about a mile up the road, parked up next to an orchard. We saw the car lurch forward, like he was coming after us, but then it just stopped.”
“And where did Wolf go?”
“Don’t know, Boss…sorry.”
“Shit.” Coyote took out his phone and looked at it. Wolf hadn’t called or messaged him. He loved that his son was smart and that he could think for himself…but sometimes the boy worried him to death. Every time there seemed to be a risk to be taken lately, Wolf was the one volunteering to take it. He was another one that didn’t seem to be having the greatest year. There was definitely something in the water. “Alright, somebody write down where this place is at.” He looked at Bruf. “You okay to handle this deal?”
“Yep.”
He took the paper out of Cinch’s hand and looked at it. In perfectly straight, military-style script, Cinch had written the name of the diner and which exit it was off the 99. Coyote stuffed it in his pocket, slipped on his bandanna and his helmet and gloves, and went to find his son.
“Can I warm you boys up?” The middle-aged waitress stood at the edge of the table with the coffee pot in her hand. Meeks looked up at her and said:
“May as well. My friend here threw a wrench in my works for the rest of the day anyway.” She smiled and topped off his cup, and Wolf’s.
“It’s too bad about that driveshaft,” Wolf said. “I didn’t think those older Fords would just drop them like that.”
Meeks chuckled and said, “Fuck you. You got me this time. You should take credit for it. How in hell a big-ass guy like you crawled under my car without me noticing, though…shit, I’ll never live this one down.”
“I’ve heard of the U-joints just falling out. That must have been what happened. What were you doing way out here anyway?”
“Enough with the bullshit. We both know you boys picked something up in that van this morning and you were on your way to deliver it before you spotted me. I was going to stop you as soon as you crossed the county line.”
“Damn, that would have been fun,” Wolf said with a grin.
Meeks rolled his eyes and said, “I’m going to have to get sneakier, I guess.”
Laughing Wolf said, “Sneakier? Hell, we thought you wanted us to know we were being followed all this time. No one could be that bad at hiding.”
Meeks laughed again and said, “I want you to know that I’m always watching you.
If nothing else, maybe you’ll dial back on the criminal activity.”
“Now you’re just hurting my feelings. Oh look, there’s my ride.” Meeks followed Wolf’s eyes to the front door of the diner, where Coyote was walking in. He rolled his eyes as the older Lee approached the table.
“So, this is what you do when you’re supposed to be working. Sneaking around having coffee with Detective Ginger.”
“Hey, Dad, you want a cup?” Coyote sat next to Wolf.
“Why the hell not? You boys just catching up or…?”
“Detective Meeks had some car trouble. I told the guys to go on back with the groceries and I’d stay here and see if he needed any help. So far, he hasn’t wanted my help, though.”
“You two missed your calling,” Meeks said. “You should have been a comedy team.”
“Is someone here waiting for a tow?” the waitress announced from behind the counter. They looked toward the front of the diner and could see the tow truck in the parking lot.
“That’s me,” Meeks said, standing up and taking out his wallet.
“I’ll get that,” Wolf said.
“No thanks…I don’t want to be in debt to you forever.”
“Aw, you don’t owe me anything, detective. How’s your grandfather by the way, though?”
Meeks shook his head, threw a five down on the table, and Coyote and Wolf watched him go. When he was gone Coyote laughed and said, “What did you do to his car?”
Wolf looked over toward the kitchen. A young man’s face was framed in the window as he put the orders up. “Paid a skinny fry-cook to take out the U-joints.” Coyote laughed again and slapped his son on the back.