by Ryan Michele
“Next business.” Thumper looks to Triple Threat. “No vote, Rebels don’t touch anything with Cosmo except when the call out happens to put him down.”
“We don’t even want to consider the price?” Gilly asks.
Lurch leans over the table on his knuckles with a sinister look. “I’ll gut the fucker for free if I could get close enough to him. No price is worth it to push his dope.”
“I dismissed the request, no consideration necessary, Gilly,” Thumper reminds the man staring him down.
“Understood, Prez,” Gilly backs down to which Lurch sits down.
“You,” Thumper calls out, his eyes directly on me. I lift my chin in acknowledgment. “Andrea, she’s yours?’
“Yes, sir.”
“Then she’s ours. Tell us.” I let out a huff of air and tell the guys everything about Andrea’s situation. It takes a while, but the guys listen intently to every word.
“This Holloway guy. You got nothin’ on him?” Lurch asks, and I shake my head.
“Not one damn thing after the explosion. He’s dead.”
“And the camera guy’s gone, too?”
“Yep. I owe him for putting a shield on Drea.” Boy do I ever. I make a mental note to find that man’s grave and do just that.
“The wife?”
“She found her way to a refugee camp after the blast. Started life over with her boys. If she wanted to come after Drea for something, she’d have no means because they aren’t living the kind of lifestyle to afford extras. Need to follow up as the last update on her whereabouts was before Drea ever left Germany. Things would have to have really changed for Yelena Holloway for her to be able to pull this off from so far away. I don’t feel it’s her.”
“Well fuck,” Thumper announces, cracking his neck from side to side. “No video of the guy who hurt her?”
“No. Everything is clean.”
“Well, it’s not Holloway, the camera guy, or the wife. Who the fuck is it?”
“Why do you think the guy knows her?” Triple Threat asks the one question I forgot during my recall.
“The pictures on the walls at Andrea’s mother’s house. Only Drea’s face was sliced through.” I hate keeping that from my woman, but she doesn’t need those thoughts in her head. Keeping her safe right now is my number one job. The rest I’ll tell her another time—or never.
“What about an ex in Florida?” DJ pipes in, shrugging his shoulders. “Coulda seen you and Andrea together and got pissed.”
“We haven’t been together that much for all this shit to happen. It’s possible, but I don’t see it.” My hand rubs my neck as every scenario of who this could be plays out in my head, and I’m pissed as hell that I can’t figure this shit out.
“Need to find out everything,” Lurch tells me like I don’t already know this shit. I don’t want to fucking know who’s had a piece of my woman. I’m liable to kill them, but now that she and I are on the same damn page—it’s time.
“Got it.”
“Gilly, Skinny, and Triple Threat, y’all have the most tech knowledge and connections, search everything and find the link. Get an update on the wife. Even if she’s broke, make sure she has no connections anywhere.” Thumper turns to DJ. “You got everything covered at your place?”
“Damn right.”
“Good. Then everyone get your shit together and find this motherfucker so we can get on with what we need to get on with.” Thumper slams the gavel down and we exit church. I’m about to have a very unpleasant conversation.
“Why do you need to know that?” Drea asks, fumbling with her fingers, showing me her nerves, which only threatens to piss me off more.
“Kitten, I don’t want to hear this shit as much as you don’t want to tell me. So, rip the fuckin’ band-aid off and let’s have it.”
She lets out a deep breath and looks up at me, her green eyes glistening. “One. There’s only been one.”
I’m not sure if I should be fucking ecstatic that only one motherfucker has touched her, or if I should be making a damn house call.
“Name and any information that you remember.”
“Devlin Hopkins. He lives in Florida and is now married with a baby on the way. And, Austin, he broke it off with me. There’s no way that he’d have anything to do with what’s going on.”
“Still gonna check it out. Birthday,” I go through a list of questions and try to tap down my anger as I do. She never had to leave. Never had to have another touch her—all because of a misunderstanding. That shit still stings. I don’t want any of that clouding us from this point on.
“Austin, I went on a couple of dates, but nothing ever worked out. I was too ambitious. I wanted to prove I could be the best damn investigative reporter out there. Men weren’t my focus. I worked pretty much all the time.”
“Need their names, too.” She rolls her eyes, and I find it kinda cute. Damn, I missed it. She complies and even gives me a list of her dates, co-workers, and friends in Florida. I’m having Gilly, Skinny, and Triple Threat check them all.
“Austin, I don’t think you’re going to find anything. This is just a random act. Yeah, they trashed the house, but they had my ID and could’ve just been looking for something valuable.”
Damn, she’s smart, but I’m not saying a fucking word about the pictures making it the connection.
“Yeah, Kitten. That’s what I’m hopin’.”
Chapter 9
Crazy is as crazy does!
I have lost my mind. Screws are loose, and the marbles rolling around in my head are the least of my concerns.
All this time, he didn’t mean it the way I took it. My feelings were crushed, my heart broken, and the domino effect is monumental. Years we wasted and it’s my fault. I hate it.
Can I so easily slip into things with Austin as if we are the same people we once were?
The computer monitor in front of me continues to sit blank. I’m at work with four stories to get sorted while my mind wants to think about the boy who has held my heart for so long.
Standing, I head to the break room for a coffee, needing to get my mind off Austin. Kenderly smiles as soon as she sees me as she’s dipping her tea bag into a mug of hot water.
“Already anxious to get home?” she laughs, and I shake my head frantically. “Wait! Why not? Austin took you to work this morning, even though I could drive you since it’s the same place. He hasn’t kept his hands off you. Time to talk, Andrea.”
“How did you do it?” I ask, knowing she and DJ were together in high school and broke up as well, but are now back together.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she laughs, sipping her drink while I pour my own.
“Right now, if you told me the sky was falling, I’d believe it.”
She looks at me seriously. “He told me I was claimed.”
I know my eyes must be as big as saucers. “He what!”
She smiles the biggest smile. “I told you about what happened between us. Well, he claimed me as Rebels so I would be protected. But in doing so, he claimed me as his and he’s mine. I know it sounds ridiculous. Bottom line is, I love him and he loves me. Nothing else matters. It’s the way the biker life goes. This isn’t high school. He’s not your boyfriend, he’s your man. You’re his woman, you’re claimed, he’s claimed.”
“I think I’m in over my head,” I admit, knowing that nothing she’s saying makes the least bit of sense to me. “Kenderly, he kisses me and I lose it. Like can’t hold back when I need to. My future isn’t gonna be normal. My injury has lasting effects. Austin doesn’t need that in his life.”
“No, he doesn’t,” her candid reply surprises me. “But he wants it.”
I can only shake my head.
“I know it’s hard to wrap your head around, but your heart never let go, neither did his. We only get one chance at life, and somehow we’ve managed a second chance at love … don’t overthink it, don’t lose it, just go with it.”
Can
I do that? I think of Austin and a chance to have everything we once wished. I smile. The office phone rings, and Kenderly rushes off to her desk with her perfectly rounded baby bump.
“Just go with it,” I tell the empty room before going back to my desk.
Work passes productively with a text from Austin that Kenderly will have to drive me home, he’s tied up at work.
It dawns on me, I don’t know where he works. Knowing I can easily forget things, I begin a list of the things I don’t know about the man Austin Wayne Fletcher has become. Kenderly, my mom, and I all have a simple spaghetti dinner to which both Austin and DJ miss.
I go to bed exhausted but my body missing Austin’s. Sleep takes over no matter the hours I spent trying to stay awake listening for his return.
“Andrea, we need to be careful,” Luke whispers beside me on his cot. “If what the wife says is true, Mr. Holloway isn’t who the network thinks he is. We could be here and on the wrong side.”
I can’t help the feeling in my gut that Luke is right. We met the wife, who trembled at the mere mention of her ex-husband’s name, telling us David is the devil and that we’ll learn. I can’t put my finger on it. Everything on paper makes David Holloway look like a good, honest, contributing member of society. Is he really a devil?
We struggle to fall asleep to the sounds of cracking, popping, and whizzing of the war we are entrenched in. My heart lay heavy tonight for the children caught up in this mess.
The noises are so loud. A boom shakes the ground under us.
I sit straight up in the bed, covered in a cool sweat. The room is dark.
Everything was dark when I came to from the explosion, too. The weight of Luke went from heavy on top of me to waking up to beeping noises behind the darkness of my closed eyes. Then I blink.
I blink again.
I realize I’m in the hospital.
I blink again into the darkness of my room realizing I’m not in the Ukraine but in a bed in Granville, Alabama at Kenderly’s house.
Reaching up, I grip my head in ghost pains from the past. An arm snakes around my waist. I breathe in and out inhaling Austin.
“Shhh, Kitten, shhh,” he consoles.
The softness of his voice, the touch of his hand calms me as my head physically begins to pound from my adrenaline and emotions running too high. Sweat coats my skin and as it cools, I get a chill.
“I got you, Kitten. I got you, Drea.” He reaches around me to lay me against him, my head to his chest. The steady thumping of his heartbeat soothes the anxiety in me. We lay there for a long time as I pull myself together, each beat lulling the dream away.
I trace the tattoo on his peck. “Broth3rs,” I whisper tracing the script. “What’s DLR stand for?” I ask about the initials above the word brothers with the number three in place of the e.
“Dixon, Lurch, and Rebels,” he says, running his hand through my hair. “Dixon has always been a brother to me. Lurch, he gave me a family in a way I hadn’t had before, along with the Rebels. They are my family, all of my brothers, but Lurch, Dixon, and I, well it runs deeper than the club. I have respect for them, put it on my skin. They’re with me till I die.”
I continue to trace the ink silently. He continues to be the steady reminder under me while my mind comes down from the nightmare I endured.
“Austin,” I say, lifting my head and looking him in the eye. “Why do you have the word cry on your left shoulder?” I end up asking, losing the nerve to ask what I really want.
“I’ve always got a shoulder for you to cry on.”
“How many others have had that shoulder to cry on?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
“None.”
“Austin,” his name is barely a whisper. “What are we doin’? Is this real?”
“We’re getting back what we never shoulda lost. And, Kitten, it’s more real than the first time.”
His hands cup my face and pull me to him. “Tell me about your dream.” I shake my head which doesn’t really work with it pressed against his body. “Kitten, I need to know.”
Letting out a deep breath, I give him a play by play of the dream. “It’s strange, Austin. I remember the wife, Yelena, swore David was the devil and I’d learn. But nothing David did ever suggested that—ever. Luke and I had doubts about everything after meeting the wife, but I just can’t ... I wish I could remember everything.”
I think and think but can’t place one piece of the puzzle after the next. All these little pieces aren’t adding up. I know the nightmares are part of the injury, but will I ever stop thinking about what happened to me in Ukraine?
“Shh...it’s alright, Kitten. We’ll figure it out.”
He must sense I need to have an escape because his lips meet mine, and all thoughts of ink and injuries are gone as he consumes me.
Chapter 10
Hells bells
“Brother,” Skinny calls over from the passenger seat of the minivan. Lurch asked me, personally, to go on this run to make sure everything went smooth because our client has had me as a direct contact for years. No way I could say no, even if I wanted to be home to make sure Andrea was safe. It’s been a week since I told Andrea we are getting back what we never should have lost. I’ve held her through nightmares, headaches, and disorientation. Leaving for this run has been hard. DJ stayed back, though, and I’ve been checking in with him every few hours, but he’s starting to get annoyed with me. Like always, I don’t give a fuck and he’ll deal. I’m just thankful we’re almost back home.
In the past, I’ve never cared how long we had to be gone. Since Andrea came back to town I’ve found myself pulled back to Granville more than is probably healthy for a man in my position. I never had a weakness until now.
“Yeah?”
“Nothin’ is showin’ up on any of the names you gave me. Not one has debt they can’t handle or an addiction they’re tryin’ to fund. Checked every fucker out from Andrea’s time in Florida, and nothin’s standin’ out.”
My knuckles turn white on the steering wheel as my grip threatens to break it in two. Shit isn’t adding up. Whoever robbed her knows her because of all the pictures. No one just looking for money or anything they could hock at a pawn shop would take the meticulous time to destroy Andrea’s face on all the pictures. It has to be someone who knows her.
“So, where the fuck do I go from here?” I ask him, really having no clue at this point. I’ve done just about everything I can think of.
“Wait. That’s about all ya can do right now. Every turn we hit is a dead end. Give it a bit, see if the fucker comes back.”
We can’t keep living at DJ’s house. He would never kick us out, but he’s got a kid coming in a few months that they need to get ready for. Who knows how long this will be.
“Don’t like this shit.”
“Neither do I.”
After dropping off our load and picking up another, we head back to Granville, everything going exactly as I suspected it would.
My cell rings. I pull it out of my cut and see Kenderly calling. I swipe it and hold it up to my ear. “Yeah.”
“Shamus?” Her voice is so damn low I barely hear it which puts me on alert.
“Yeah, what’s wrong?”
“She’ll kill me if she knows I’m calling you.” Her regret sits heavy in her words. “But I found Andrea in the bathroom with wet paper towels on her eyes. When I asked what was wrong, she said all the words on the screen were jumbled and she couldn’t read what she had written.”
“Fuck.”
“I asked her if she wanted to go home, but that woman is stubborn as hell. She told me that it’ll pass in a bit and she wasn’t leaving. Right now, she’s blinking her eyes a lot, then holding the towels to them. She’s been doing it for the past twenty minutes and nothing’s getting better. Should I call an ambulance?”
“No, I’m about an hour and a half out. Keep her there, Kenderly. Don’t let her leave.”
“That’ll be easy, she h
asn’t moved out of her chair, and I’m her ride.”
“She gets some bright idea of leaving, you stall her until I get there.”
“Yeah. Shamus?”
“What?”
“Don’t tell her I called you. Girl code and all.”
“Yeah.” I swipe the phone off not giving two shits about their girl code. Andrea’s fucking eyes. I hate this shit. Her mom was right about not knowing when her episodes will hit. Between the nightmares that I hold her through, her saying ‘what’ a bit more these days because of her hearing and now this, I just want to take her and fix her. I don’t want this to be her life. One where she has to worry about her health and can’t live free. But that’s not going to happen. Only thing I can do is be there for her and help her through all this shit.
“Problem?” Skinny asks casually.
“Drea’s eyes are havin’ problems.”
It kind of pisses me off that I had to hear from Kenderly and not Andrea herself. She’s going to need to learn that she comes to me about this shit. That I’m her man and we work through this shit together. Sure, she probably thinks that since I’m gone I won’t find out, but fuck that.
“This a forever thing?”
“Yeah,” I answer without a single hesitation. When a man knows, he knows. I knew she was it for me when I didn’t even know who I would be, but she fit then and she fits now.
He leans his head back on the headrest. “Know what it’s like to live with this shit.” He’s talking about the scars on his face that have marred him for life. He’s had to live with them, and it couldn’t have been easy. The whole damn side of his face looks like someone threw acid on him. We share a lot of shit, but one thing Skinny won’t talk about is how he got his face fucked. He only says that shit’s done and over, and we take him at his word.
“Don’t like it,” I answer honestly.
“How the fuck you think she feels about it? Livin’ a life where minute to minute you don’t know if you’re going to pass out or not be able to see. That shit’s wack.”