Colton's Salvation: A Demented Sons MC Novel

by Kristine Allen

  Pulling the fridge open, I peered in with bleary eyes to see if there was a damn thing to eat.

  Hmm, questionable Chinese takeout, milk that was four days expired based on the date on the jug, and about a quarter loaf of bread—yeah, I kept that shit in the fridge out of fear the roaches would get to that shit too…

  Yep, looks like a beer it is.

  I pulled the next to last beer from the six-pack on the top shelf, telling myself I needed to make a run to the grocery store soon. I twisted the top off using the hem of my T-shirt, adding another hole to the rest of them. Fuck it.

  I sat back down on the edge of the bed and took a swig of the beer as I reached my other hand under my stained pillow, pulling out the only possession I actually valued. I set my beer on the floor by my feet and followed my routine of checking the clip, ensuring a round was chambered, and checking the safety. I rolled the pistol around in my hand. Instinct had me raising it with insane precision and speed, thumb flicking off the safety, aiming at the door when I heard a thump against it. I slowly lowered it and flicked the safety back on when I heard laughing and voices indicating it was just a drunk neighbor and his buddy stumbling by. My heart was racing and adrenaline coursed through my veins at light speed.

  Fuck. Just fuck.

  The gun felt natural in my hand, the cool steel warming to my touch like a living, breathing entity. The brushed stainless barrel of my Ruger 45 glinted dully in the light of the single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Flipping the safety off again, I stared at the pistol for what seemed like hours. My hands turned the gun over and over until the muzzle was eventually pointed at my face. I placed it in my mouth, aimed toward the roof and tilted toward my brain because I would never want to be a fucking vegetable. Slowly, I began to pull the trigger because habits die hard; you don’t jerk the trigger, you squeeze it… Hot tears welled in my eyes as my hands shook. I jerked the gun back out of my mouth, flipping on the safety and tossing it across the bed like I had countless times over the last few months.

  Fucking coward! I was such a piece of shit coward! I had pussied out and left my battle buddies hanging when I got out. Accepting the Medical Board because I couldn’t handle the killing anymore, ate at me, yet a deep, evil, ugly part of my soul craved it. But I didn’t think I could pull the trigger on anyone in my drunken, fucked-up state, and I guessed that meant on myself too.

  Knowing I was sitting here broken and worthless while my brothers were still at it back in Afghanistan every day fucking tore me up. I hated myself. I was a fucking mess. Breaths continued to rasp in and out of my body. Sometimes it literally hurt knowing I was able to breathe. I fell back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as hot tears trailed down the sides of my face, pooling in my ears before running to the bed below me. Something’s gotta give because I can’t live like this….

  August 2014

  REMI WAS TRYING TO toddle away from the edge of our little couch, but she couldn’t quite get her balance when she let go. The look of surprise on her precious little face was priceless as she plopped on her diaper-padded behind, arms outstretched and flapping at her sides. I couldn’t hold back a laugh as I dropped my arms that had been reaching for her while I sat on the floor cross-legged. At the sound of my laugh, she shot me her big, few-tooth smile, flashing those amazing little dimples as she flipped down to her hands and knees and crawled over to me so she could pounce on my lap. Looking up at me, still giggling and smiling, she clapped her hands and squealed, letting a trail of drool run over her bottom lip. She then reached her hands up to hold my cheeks and kissed me in her open-mouthed, still-lipped impression of a kiss. Her eyes were such a bright blue and always full of laughter. She had to be the happiest baby I had ever encountered.

  The last few months had gone by in a blur. I enjoyed my job at the Des Moines Embassy. The people I worked with were great, and we had a blast every day we worked, whether preparing for patrons at the restaurant or special catered dinners at The World Food Prize Hall of Laureates. The chef and the director had told me when they hired me that they worked hard to allow for advancement when it was available and deserved, so I busted my butt every day. Of course, when you loved your job, it didn’t always seem like work. I felt so blessed at this moment in time. My heart felt full to bursting.

  For the hundredth time, I felt the little drop of sadness creep into my blissful thoughts for all the moments her daddy was missing. Guilt and anger at both of us for our foolishness that night plagued me, not because I regretted the little ray of sunshine sitting in my lap, but because our choices affected her. What was I going to tell her about her daddy when she was old enough to start asking? I rested my chin on her pretty little head as she sat babbling in my lap and playing with her own chubby little feet.

  I could never replace Colton as her daddy, nor fill in that little corner of my heart I kept just for him, but maybe I needed to start dating. Reggie, one of my fellow prep cooks, had been getting increasingly overt in showing his interest in me and had blatantly told me he wanted to spend more time with me outside of work. He was handsome and lean with soft green eyes and a brilliant smile, but I didn’t ever feel the fire or excitement around him that I had felt with Colton. He was more like one of my brothers to me, and I had a cozy, familial type of affection for him, but that was all. I also felt greedy and selfish because dating anyone would take time away from Remi, and I relished every single second with her.

  No, I really didn’t want to get involved with a coworker. It just seemed like bad juju, I guess. However, if some handsome stranger asked, I would say yes. Ha! Fat chance of that, but a girl could dream. I did need to spend time around adults too, I admitted. If I ever found anyone, I just wouldn’t bring him around Remi for a while, because I never wanted to be that mom who paraded men through her home and family like there was a revolving door. Remi would have enough confusion in her life with her father in the slightly “unknown” category. I sighed and kissed my little bugga-boo again.

  August 2014

  I WOKE WITH AN incessant pounding in my head. Shit, I needed to stop drinking so much. My mouth felt like a wad of cotton balls was shoved in it and tasted like the bottom of a dumpster, not that I really knew what that tasted like, but I could only fucking imagine. Damn.

  The fucking pounding wouldn’t stop. I swore my head might explode until I realized someone was pounding at my door, causing the door to rattle on the hinges. I reach under my pillow for my pistol, flipping off the safety, as I heard shouting.

  “Oh shut up, lady, like you can hear anything over that mariachi crap you have blaring anyway!” I heard come from the other side of the door. Jesus, that door must be fucking hollow. I quietly crept to the window, moving the curtain to the side an infinitesimal amount, allowing me just enough space to see who was banging on my door at this ungodly hour of the morning but not enough for them to know they were being observed. The bastard out there was good though, because no sooner had I moved the curtain, his head whipped toward the window.

  “Colton! Colton, you motherfucker, open this fucking door! I know you’re in there, you bastard. Don’t fucking pretend you’re not.”

  What the fuck? Who the hell knew me and knew I was here? Who was this rude-ass sonofabitch banging on my door, wearing some ratty jeans and a leather vest? My mind whirred, trying to think of who could be out there looking for me. I was about three seconds from planting a bullet in his stupid ass. My brain felt like mush and I couldn’t think straight. I slanted my view and noticed a bike parked next to mine in front of my place.

  What?

  “Colton! You fucking fuck. Come on, man! It’s Mason. Get your sorry ass up and open the fucking door. I don’t have all day, and this crazy Mexican lady next door is about to beat the shit out of me with her broom!”

  Mason? What the fuck? He was supposed to be home with his family in Iowa. I unlocked the shitty-ass lock, which I was honestly surprised hadn’t just fucking popped open as hard as he was rattling the door with his
pounding. I tucked my gun into the back of my waistband as he pushed his way in the door, surrounding me with a back-breaking bear hug.

  “Goddamn, man, it’s good to see you! Don’t you ever answer your piece of shit phone, bro? I’ve been trying to call you for months. I was beginning to think maybe you fell off the face of the earth!” If only he knew how close to the truth he was, I thought with shame. “Dude, what the fuck? You look like shit, and what the fuck kind of rathole are you living in? Jesus H. Christ!” He stepped over to my kitchen area and leaned against the counter as I shut and locked the door after looking around outside and giving the nosy bitch next door a “fuck off” glare.

  I went over to the fridge, opening it to notice the fucking bulb blew. Piece of shit. Glad I went to the store last night, or I wouldn’t have had anything to offer my old friend. “You want a beer, man?”

  “The fuck? It’s like 0900, bro. I like a cold beer as well as the next guy, but shit, I like some breakfast food in my guts first.” He pushed past me to look in the fridge with me reaching for an apple out of the small bag I bought. He took a large bite, juice spraying out and running down his chin as he bit down. He wiped it off with the back of his hand as he happily chewed. The crunching echoed through my head, and I had to go sit down away from him.

  I tossed down a pain pill, raised my ice-cold beer in salute to him, and took a swig. “Hair of the dog… Now what the fuck you doing down here? And what the fuck’s with the vest getup?” I took in his black leather vest with a patch that read “PROSPECT” and raised a brow, waiting for him to answer me as I let another swallow of cold beer trickle down my throat and settle in my guts.

  “We trailered down here, picking up a bike we’re supposed to customize for some rich fuck. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for damn near three months, man. When they told me you had left the WTU and you were out, I was pissed ’cause you never fucking called me or anything, bro. So when, Snow, our Prez, needed a prospect to travel down here with Gunny, my sponsor, to pick up this bike, I volunteered. I’m a prospect for the Demented Sons now.” That fucker was smiling like the Cheshire cat. Truth be told, I had really missed his sorry ass. We had been through a lot of shit together, and we were probably closer than some actual blood brothers.

  My head hung low because I knew I had been a straight-up shit with the way I cut him out after I left BAMC. I just didn’t feel like I was human enough to function, let alone be the friend he probably needed then. I still didn’t, and I really hoped he got on his bike and left soon. I just wanted to wallow in my misery alone. I was not the friend and partner he remembered. I was merely a vacant shell of that man.

  “Dude. Colton, man, what have you got here? Anything? You got a woman around here or something?” Did I have a woman? Fuck. I hadn’t had any pussy since the night I left the WTU with all my worldly possessions crammed in my bike’s saddlebags. Truth be told, I couldn’t even fuck her because I kept seeing blonde hair and blue eyes in my head and the dumb bar whore I had picked up didn’t look anything like her. My angel was the last woman I had slept with. When I couldn’t keep it up no matter how much she messed around, she laughed in my face and told me to call her when I didn’t have such whiskey dick. I told her to fuck off and booted her out of my hotel room.

  “Fuck no.” Didn’t want one either.

  “Bro, ditch this shithole and come back with me. I’ve told Gunny all about you and everything we’ve been through, and he wants to meet you. He was in the Marine Corps—I try not to hold that against him.” He laughed. “I told him I wanted to bring you back with me if I could find you. I hoped maybe you could look at prospecting too, if it seems like a good fit for you and the club.” He seemed to get real serious as he looked down at the apple core that he’d been rolling in his fingers. “It was rough when I first got home, bro, I ain’t gonna lie. I felt fucking lost. Everything I’d known was gone, and there isn’t much call for a spotter in the civie’s world, you know?” He looked back up at me, and for a moment, I saw the same emptiness in his eyes that I felt to my very soul.

  “Come on, bro, this is the brotherhood that I know you’ve been missing. With the club, we say what we mean and mean what we say, and we have each other’s backs. Always. I can’t leave you here like this. I love you, bro.”

  April 2016

  IT WAS A CHILLY day for late April, but the sun was shining warm and bright, so I thought maybe Remi and I could take a walk up to the park. We’d been in our new apartment in the 14Forty building for almost a year. The rent was a little higher and I hated to leave Mrs. Burns, who had turned out to be an amazing babysitter for Remi over that first year, but I loved the old exposed bricks of our new apartment and the proximity to my job and everything downtown. I was a sucker for historic buildings and being downtown, so when a one bedroom opened up at the end of my old apartment’s year lease, I took it. Remi had celebrated her first birthday that January, and we moved in on the first of May. The new apartment had meant money was a little tighter, but since I was able to walk to work and Pam lived down the hall and babysat Remi for me for a great rate, it helped offset the rent. I was still setting aside little chunks of money out of my check, here and there, though. I called it my “someday” account. For “someday I was going to buy a house or start my own restaurant.”

  Pam was a sister to one of my coworkers, Sylvia, and charged me next to nothing because she adored Remi and said she just wanted some extra spending money. I didn’t see how Pam needed the extra money since her husband had a great accounting job at Wells Fargo down the road, but who was I to judge? We still only had one bedroom, so I had Remi set up in there and we shared the closet while I slept on my pull-out sofa. Okay, most nights I was too lazy to pull it out, so I just slept on the sofa.

  I bundled Remi up in her little, pink, faux leopard jacket with a matching hat. I smiled and told her how stylish she looked, eliciting a big dimpled smile as she patted her hat just like she understood every word and was pleased with my compliment. I placed her in her stroller, slipped on her little shoes, and we headed out. I knew that at two years old, she would rather walk, but it was easier to keep her corralled on the way there, and she was invariably tired on the way back, which translated to “carry me, Mommy!” and she was a heavy little stinker now. As I turned to lock the door, I noticed a man carrying a box. As he reached a door down the hall, he juggled the box to one arm and slid the key into the lock. I couldn’t help but notice how good-looking he was. He paused and I realized he caught me gawking at him.

  “Uh, hi! Are you moving in today?” Wow, that was smooth and brilliant sounding. I felt my face heat all the way to my ears, and I knew I must match Remi’s hot pink stroller. I had obviously lost all ability to be suave and flirt since graduating college and becoming a mother. I tucked my hair behind my ear and prayed my face calmed quickly. How embarrassing!

  “Why, yes, I am. Why? Are you offering to help?” He laughed as he set his box down and came down the hall toward me. He extended his hand to shake mine. “Michael. And you are?”

  As we shook hands, I noticed his sandy hair was a little in need of a haircut, and I wanted to touch it to see if it was as silky as it looked. His eyes were a soft green and his smile was slightly crooked. My belly gave a little flip as I experienced the appreciation of a good-looking guy standing so close to me. Heck, I was human after all, what could I say?

  “Oh! I’m Steph, and this is my daughter. My little Remi. We were heading out to the park to enjoy the sunshine. I don’t mean to keep you. Welcome to our little corner of the world. We’ve been here about a year, and we love it.” I let go of his hand and still felt the warmth of his grasp. As I leaned over to cover Remi again with her little blanket she had kicked off, he knelt down to her level and smiled at her in greeting. When he touched her chubby little fingers and told her he was pleased to meet her, she lit up and giggled.

  “Dimples on a dark-haired, blue-eyed princess… Ahhhh, I’m slayed.” He held his hand ove
r his heart and rolled his eyes back in mock dismay. This elicited further giggles from Remi, and I couldn’t hold back a small chuckle of my own. He smiled and gave Remi a small wave before he stood, meeting my eyes. Remi waved and said, “Bye-bye!” not realizing he wasn’t actually leaving when he waved.

  “I don’t exactly have any of my kitchen things unpacked, and thought I would go grab dinner somewhere tonight. So, if it wouldn’t be too presumptuous of me, it sure would be nice to have the company of two beautiful ladies. And did I mention, I’m new to the area and don’t really know anyone? Have pity on a poor, lonely guy? I promise I don’t bite.”

  At those words, I was taken back to a night outside a college party—one I wasn’t even going to attend—and a set of dimples, paired with blue eyes that matched perfectly to my beautiful little girl’s. I looked down as I felt my smile slip. After composing myself, I met his eyes again. I revived my smile and took a deep breath.

  “We might be able to do that. We can meet you at the little diner up the road if you’d like? It doesn’t look like much, but they have amazing food, great staff, and it’s clean. It’s up about six or seven blocks. Will that work?” I looked at him, expecting him to back out any minute.

  “Sounds perfect. Say, around six? I figure that will keep you from having your little one out too late. Unless you would like to do five instead?”

  “No, six is great. So, I guess we’ll see you there?”

  “It’s a ‘not date’ dinner, then.” He winked.

  Until dinner that night, I hadn’t realized how long it had been since I had sat down and had actual adult interactions. Michael and I sat and conversed in an easy banter through dinner, dessert, and coffee. We were still sitting at the old Formica flecked table with the glittery red 50’s style booth seats talking as little Remi began to rub her eyes, dropping her cookie she was still working on.