Hell's Ink
Page 6
She stayed with her aunt and uncle for the first two weeks. Diamond kept her busy with shopping out of town, or spending the day by the small in-ground pool in her aunt’s backyard. When she finally had a chance to explain her personal issues to her aunt, Diamond listened with a soft heart, offering Shyla the apartment over Hard Ink and a job to boot for the time being. Badger had taken Diamond to the side, worrying Shyla for a second that he wasn’t happy with the arrangement but Diamond assured her all was well.
The last month here in Harmony had lent her a clarity to see where she wanted to go with her life. She watched the interaction between the club members frequenting Hard Ink, and Shyla longed to be part of something whole. A family. Memories overwhelmed her at inopportune times, reminding her of being part of a larger familial group—her father’s MC. She must’ve unintentionally suppressed so much of her past after her parents’ death.
Glancing around her tiny loft apartment, she couldn’t believe she’d finally found home. Even though it was only an open area with a small kitchen and enclosed bathroom, it felt right to be here. Harmony felt right. An oval window overlooked the small town that Shyla had already fallen in love with. She proudly hung on her wall the framed picture she’d found at the little consignment store the next street over.
“Knock, knock,” a female voice called from the front door, accompanied by two loud raps.
Shyla turned and was surprised to see a gorgeous woman standing in her open doorway. The lady’s jet-black hair lay in large curls around her slight shoulders. She noticed soft lines of age around the woman’s eyes and mouth, indicating she was older than Shyla herself. Her body was curvy in all the right places, emphasized by the hugging black shirt she wore and matching jeans.
“Thought I’d bring a little something by and introduce myself. I’m Sage Dawson,” Sage said, stepping forward with an oversized tan wicker basket in her arms, filled to the brim with different household items.
“Hi,” Shyla answered, walking toward Sage. “Shyla Pass. Let me help you with that.”
“It’s just a welcome basket filled with goodies. Everyone can always use new hand towels,” Sage said, setting everything down on the kitchen counter.
Sage’s eyes scanned the entire apartment before returning her gaze to Shyla and the younger woman didn’t miss the older one’s intense scrutiny. Sage might look soft, but Shyla would bet there was nothing soft about her. Diamond had said something about Sage being Ward Dawson’s old lady. She knew he was the president of the Hell’s Highwaymen MC, but nothing else. Outside of Hard Ink, Aunt D kept her pretty secluded from the club.
“Thank you. It’s incredibly nice,” Shyla said, placing her hands in the front pockets of her denim mini skirt.
“I’ve been meanin’ to come by to meet you for weeks, but things have been crazy at the garage. Big D needs to bring you ‘round to get to know everyone.” Sage smiled warmly, tilting her head.
Shyla nodded, returning a small grin. “I would really love to. Would you like to have a seat?” She motioned toward a worn leather couch her aunt had found at a garage sale.
“Thank you,” Sage said, walking over to sit down.
Sage patted the cushion next to her, indicating Shyla should have a seat. It didn’t seem to be a request so Shyla did as Sage silently commanded. As she sat down, she sent the other woman a quick smile before lowering her eyes to notice the top of a heart tattoo located on the swell of Sage’s breast.
“So what brings you to Harmony? It’s not necessarily somewhere a beautiful young twenty-something would decide to up and move to,” Sage asked, crossing her long legs.
“Well, Diamond is my only living relative, and since my grandmother’s death, I’ve missed having a family.” Shyla cleared her throat and blinked back the tears threatening to overwhelm her eyes.
Sage gently squeezed Shyla’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear about your family. Mikey told me about your parents. He’s like a second son of mine and I have to say, I now see why he won’t shut up about our newest resident. Our family can always welcome another…” Sage’s voice trailed off at the sound of Diamond’s.
“Sage, I didn’t know you were planning to stop by today,” Aunt D said, her shoulder propping the apartment’s front door open, tattooed arms crossed.
“Hey, Big D. I had to drop something off to Badger and thought I’d go ahead and bring a little housewarming gift over,” Sage said, her eyes narrowing at Diamond.
Sage gracefully stood, and Shyla followed suit. It didn’t take a genius to realize these ladies weren’t exactly friends. Everyone seemed to call her aunt Big D, but it definitely wasn’t in reference to her size. She couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, except for her exceptionally large breasts. Hence the nickname and that she obviously liked to show them off. It seemed all of the old ladies bought their clothes two sizes too small, including her relative.
Her Aunt Diamond’s body was covered in elaborate tattoos. Colorful designs amazed and delighted the artist inside of Shyla. Real-looking birds were painted exquisitely on her skin along with quotes and dates obviously having meaning only to her aunt. Shyla had her share of tattoos, but she could at least count on one hand how many she had. She’d have more, but money and time kept her from getting them.
“I need to be running though. Maybe next time we can chat longer,” Sage said, walking past Diamond. She glanced over her shoulder at Shyla as she stepped outside the door. “Oh, and Shyla, I’m sure Diamond has already invited you to the club’s July 4th cookout this Saturday. We’ll talk more then.” She smiled at her aunt. “Big D,” Sage said as a farewell.
“Sage,” Aunt Diamond answered before closing the door behind her. She ran her hand through the bleached-white spikes of hair on top of her head.
Shyla went over to check out the gift basket. It was filled with brand-new towels, fragrant soaps, bottles of lotions, and other small items.
“That was sweet of her,” Shyla said, not glancing at her aunt.
A snort sounded near her. “Yeah, as long as you’re on her good side… otherwise beware of the bitch in charge. Strike that last comment and pretend you didn’t hear it,” Diamond said, walking over to sit down.
“Is that why you haven’t taken me near the clubhouse?” Shyla asked, running her fingers across the soft terrycloth fabric lining the basket. “If you don’t like her… I get it.”
“Gah! I like Sage. Listen, baby doll, Sage and I have some deep issues goin’ way back. I tolerate her and vice versa. It’s not that I don’t want to bring you ‘round; I just didn’t want to involve you in club business.” Aunt D lifted her arms in exasperation. “It’s difficult to explain, but you need to hear it. Come sit,” she said, nodding toward Shyla’s small living area.
Shyla strolled back to the couch and this time sat next to her aunt. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I’m the one who’s interrupted your life.”
“Listen, Shy, it’s not that. I can’t tell you everything, but I can give you a gist of the inner workings of the MC. As long as there are politics and a pyramid of hierarchy, there’s going to be someone wanting to climb to the top and take your place. You have to be ruthless to be king, controlling the people around you, and sometimes it backfires. Power corrupts even the best person. And just because you followed someone’s belief in the beginning doesn’t mean you march with them all the way to hell,” Aunt D said.
Her words seemed jumbled and rushed. Shyla tried to make sense of Diamond’s ramblings, but before she could, Aunt D began speaking again.
“I really was going to tell you about the picnic. I wasn’t trying to exclude you, but this talk had to happen first and I wasn’t sure how to broach the situation. At least I can thank Sage for something,” she said, brushing her shoulder against Shyla’s. “I don’t know how much you remember about club life so just keep your eyes down and your mouth shut, sugar. Not that you will, but anything you see or hear gets locked away and forgotten.”
“Your daddy would be happy to hear it,” Diamond said, grasping Shyla’s hand in hers. “It’s what he believed in the beginning too, before everything went to shit. Greedy men with even greedier followers. Don’t ever forget that because of MC politics your mother and father died. You barely survived it yourself.”
“What happened here in Harmony?” Shyla asked, staring at the beautiful life-like bird tattoos lining her aunt’s neck. Something obviously had made her doubt club life.
Diamond stood up and walked away to blankly stare out the window and Shyla heard her take a deep breath. Her aunt had aged so much in the last several years.
“There was a girl. Hels. Her family died when she was little and she went to live with the Dawsons. Their son Holden fell in love with her, but Hels hated the club lifestyle. She felt suffocated in this life, stifled instead of protected, and evidently no one knew the pressure Sage and Ward put on her to be with Hold.” Diamond gave a bitter laugh. “You can’t tell a young girl who to love. It doesn’t work that way.”
Aunt D seemed saddened by the story she told. Shyla saw the misery she carried inside and evidently hid.
“Hels ran away when she was seventeen with the help of Hold. He loved her enough to let her go, prayin’ she’d come back lovin’ him as much.” Diamond paused and hung her head low. “Her leavin’ didn’t sit well with Ward, especially since he couldn’t make her heel as easily as he did his other loyal followers. So much stuff went down, but long story short, a few years later they found her and brought her back. Ward wanted her dead, but that wasn’t goin’ to happen as long as Hold drew breath.”
Her chest shook with the silent sobs she held tightly within. Shyla went to her, but Diamond held up a hand, halting her. Aunt D turned her face toward Shyla as tears rolled in waves down her pale cheekbones.
Diamond spoke through the tears. “The club—or at least Ward and Sandman—demanded retribution for her runnin’, plus club business had somehow followed her into hidin’, puttin’ her at even more risk. They forced Hold to do something to Hels that she couldn’t ever forgive him for. You see, he thought he was savin’ her. But it broke her instead. She believed the life she hated had won, until the man she truly fell in love with came for her… and she escaped. Leavin’ Hold and us all behind.”
“Aunt D,” Shyla whimpered, reaching for the other woman to clasp in her arms.
“It divided the MC,” Diamond persisted, leaning back to look into her niece’s eyes. “I don’t want to say anything else—it’s too dangerous. I’ve never told another livin’ soul any of this. Hels was my friend and I failed her in every way a person can fail someone. That’s why I tried to keep you away, not wantin’ to draw you into this life, at least until everythin’ had settled.”
Shyla nodded while hugging her aunt. They both cried, holding onto each other for dear life. Diamond obviously wept for the girl she couldn’t help and Shyla cried for so many different reasons. Her aunt must’ve bottled everything up inside her with words she wished she’d said to Hels. It’s how Shyla felt about her mother, father, grandmother, and even Josh. Everyone must have a moment of regret when they realize they never took the time to listen, to help, to say the words that could’ve made a difference. Living with conversations in your head until you’ve talked yourself to death.
She grasped her only living relative tightly and let the past flow away with the tears.
A harsh ray of the midday sun shone down on the green and brown patches of grass dotting the lawn of the Hell’s Highwaymen clubhouse. People gathered sporadically throughout. Some sat around wooden picnic benches, while others set up folding tables and chairs with colorful umbrellas to find shade. Large bowls and platters piled high with food were brought by the partygoers. Sandman’s boisterous curses were heard by anyone who passed the smoking pits where he grilled. The hearty scent of cooked hamburger meat mixed with the pungent aroma of burnt hotdog wieners either tempted or tortured the senses.
Children vivaciously scampered free, weaving in and out between the adults, their voices rising above one another. Red Solo cups overflowed with lukewarm bitter beer or tangy lemonade. Hold glanced around at the commotion surrounding him. The club had been founded on a brotherhood that was supposed to put family first, protecting the ones they loved and the future awaiting them. But it had been months since a club-wide picnic had been held and so much had changed.
Then again, some things never change. To his left he noticed Mikey, Shady, and a couple of prospects sitting in camp chairs, stuffin’ their pie holes with food. They only paused long enough to quit eating when the sheep, who were out in hordes, walked by them. Easy pickins’ on a day like today.
“There’s my baby boy!” Sage yelled. “Come over here and I’ll fix a plate of food for you.”
He glanced over his shoulder to see his mother scooping massive quantities of greasy food on an oversized Styrofoam plate.
“Hey Ma,” he said, strolling up to her with his hands in his jean pockets. Hold leaned down to kiss her cheek in greeting. “Hope that’s not for me.”
“Holden Lee Dawson, hush. You need some meat on those bones. You’re losin’ way too much weight. Eat,” she said in a no-nonsense tone, directing the plate at him.
Hold knew this was one battle he wasn’t up to fighting today, so he shook his head in mock frustration, grasping the food and plastic fork she held out before joining his brothers.
“Damn, son, you pulling a Kobayashi? That’s a shitload of food,” Mikey said, taking a bite out of his charred corn on the cob.
“Sage,” Hold said, sitting down in a chair. Mikey and Shady nodded, as if saying her name was a legitimate explanation.
“Hey babe,” Carrie said, smiling as she walked over to him with a red Solo cup. “Here’s something for you to drink. Your mom said you might need it.”
Hold immediately noticed the tiny black Harley Davidson t-shirt and even smaller matching skirt she wore. Her ass cheeks peeked out of the bottom as she bent over to place the drink in the chair’s cup holder.
“Thanks,” Hold said, taking a bite out of an overcooked hamburger.
“You lucky son of a bitch,” Mikey stated, his eyes glued to Carrie’s ass.
The entire group guffawed at the offhand comment. Mikey winked at Hold, his knowing smile insinuating his belief that Carrie would soon be Hold’s old lady.
Carrie stood at Hold’s side, running her hand over his newly buzzed head that showed only a trace of black fuzz. His grin dimmed when he realized how serious the club thought he and Carrie were. Fuck! Goddamn it to hell! He ate his food with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. This was one conversation he’d have to have soon, but not tonight. Hold didn’t want to deal with any of her dramatics over ending this shit between them.
Hold was still chewing on a piece of ground beef when he saw Ward approaching their group. It took everything inside of Hold to swallow his food, including draining half of the stale beer Carrie had brought him. He glanced down to set the cup back in the holder when he felt Ward grip his shoulder, his nails digging into Hold’s flesh. A tremor of unease rode his spinal cord as he lifted his head to look up at his father.
“Hope you guys are enjoyin’ the spread of food,” Ward said, smiling at the small group who’d gathered around. “I miss the families gettin’ together like this. Makes me glad to see everyone come out for the day.”
Hold recognized Ward’s little speech for what it was… politicking. Make sure your constituents believe your bullshit. He gritted his teeth in silence. Did they even realize if they went against the grain and didn’t swallow his BS, they’d be six feet under?
“Hold here probably remembers all the family gather
ings we used to have and how much fun they were when he was young. I think there should be more. Don’t you, Hold?” Ward squeezed his shoulder hard before removing his hand.
“Yes, Pop, family should be important to the club,” Hold said, the affectionate term alien to him. He knew Ward preferred to be called by his name. He watched his reaction carefully.
Ward smiled, not giving a damn thing away before excusing himself to speak to more of the families. The group resumed eating and talking, but Hold caught the tortured look crossing Mikey’s face as he stared at the ground. He knew his friend suffered from the revelations seeming to pile at his door. Hold could only hope Mikey’s loyalty held true.
“Do you want me to grab you something else to eat, sugar?” Diamond asked, rounding the table to gather all the trash.
“God, no!” Shyla answered, patting her taut belly. “I honestly couldn’t eat another bite.”
Aunt D smiled before heading to the table laden with every mouth-watering dessert imaginable— most made with dairy products. Shyla’s teeth ached at even the thought of all that sugar. She’d begun to eat vegan years ago, but it seemed to only strengthen her love for all things sweet.
It’d been a wonderful afternoon. They’d arrived later in the day, but the festivities seemed to steamroll as time went on. She wasn’t sure what she expected after talking to Aunt D, but definitely not the happy revelry existing among the MC members and their families. Shyla watched enviously, an outsider, at the men and women who laughed freely with each other. Everyone seemed more than amicable.
The day wore on, and before long, the children disappeared. Music drifted louder overhead. Throughout the afternoon people had stopped to introduce themselves. Shyla mainly stayed with Aunt D, clustered around a group of Hell’s old ladies.
Over to her left sat several silver beer kegs. Most of the time they stayed surrounded by men of different ages, all wearing their black leather cuts. She stood hoping to refill her cup, weaving in and out of bodies, finally getting to a free tap. It spurted several shots of foam before making an ominous hissing noise.