“No, nothin’ like that. But now I’m starting to think that might be coming.”
“Yeah. This is fucked up. I think we ought to talk to Angel about sending some of the club to have a little talk to those fuckers. Show them we mean business.”
“I agree.” Tank clears his throat. I wonder if Cady’s close by. “You wanna meet me at the clubhouse to do that today?”
“I got some shit to do. Why don’t you talk to Angel? If he’s good with it, set it up and let me know the details.”
“Will do, brother. Stay safe.”
“Always.”
After I hang up with Tank, I call Jude and tell him to head over to Ember’s place with one of the other prospects to clean shit up, so she doesn’t have to deal with it.
“Make sure to keep an eye out for anything strange,” I tell him. “Anything they might have left behind, anything they might have used to send a message. If you find anything, I want you to tell me, not Ember. She doesn’t need to worry any more than she already is.”
By now, the shower’s off in the bathroom. Ember comes into the living room as I’m hanging up with Jude. She’s dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, her hair still wrapped in a towel.
“I just got a call from Tweak,” she tells me, waving her own cell in the air. “He gave me an address where he thinks Jess is. According to his source, she was there as of last night.”
I stand up from the couch. “We shouldn’t waste any time, then. Fuck only knows how long she’ll stick around.”
“I agree.” Ember takes the towel off, starts drying her hair with it. “I’m going to call Margot and tell her I won’t be in the office today. Let’s go see Jess.”
“You sure you’re okay to do this right now?”
Ember’s jaw sets into a hard line as she pulls a hair tie from her wrist and gathers her brown mane into a high ponytail. “I am. At least this is something I can do. And hopefully it will keep my mind off Bert.”
30
Striker
The house where we find Jess is a boarded-up shack, in a shitty area of inner east Dayton. When Ember told me where it was, I tried to get her to let me go in alone, but she insisted on coming and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Now, as I look over at her, I wonder if she’s having second thoughts. This place seems like a trap house. I’m glad for the weight of my pistol in its belt holster under my cut.
I park the car across the street and down the block, in front of a convenience store with bars on the windows. Ember walks close beside me as we approach the house and bang loudly on the front door. There’s some shouting inside, and then an emaciated dude with leather-like skin, coiled salt and pepper hair, and a stained wife-beater appears behind the broken screen door.
“Watchu want?” he asks.
“We’re looking for Jess Anderle.”
At his scowl of confusion, I try again. “Pretty, young, long light-blond hair, kinda fried-looking.”
His brow wrinkles. I can’t tell if he’s thinking, or just pretending to.
“You cops?”
I snort. “No. The opposite.”
He narrows his eyes at me, then turns and walks back into the house. I hear him yell something.
“You think she’s here?” Ember asks me.
“Maybe. That guy didn’t say she wasn’t.”
“How long do we wait?”
“We’ll see. We’ll play it by ear.”
“I’m nervous about this,” Ember whispers.
“It’s okay. If they were gonna shoot us, they would have done it already. That guy’s too messed up to be a threat.”
We wait for three minutes, four minutes. I start to think about whether I should have Ember go wait in the car and go inside by myself. I turn to say something to her, but just then a shadow moves inside the house.
Another figure appears in the doorway. She can’t weigh more than a hundred pounds. Her face is dry, gaunt. Her hair is still long, but the brown roots are grown out almost to her ears. The split, straw-like ends go down past her shoulders.
“Ah, fuck,” Jess rasps, her heavy-lidded eyes going wide. “Fuckin’ Striker...”
She starts to stumble backwards inside the house, like she’s gonna try to make a run for it.
“Jess!” I call after her. “I need to talk to you! I ain’t gonna hurt you!”
There’s lots of reasons the Lords of Carnage would be coming for Jess, and even in her drug-addled haze, she knows it. I’m prepared for that, though.
“Look,” I say. I reach into a pocket of my jeans, quick, so she doesn’t have time to wonder if I’m about to pull out a gun. Instead, I take out a wad of bills. “I got some cash for you, in exchange for talking to us for a few minutes,” I say.
She turns back, peering at me suspiciously from about ten feet inside. “Yeah?”
“Come on out here. I’ll give you this for answering some questions. That’s all this is, I swear.” I hold up my hands.
Jess gives me a scowl that makes her face seem about a hundred years old. My gut lurches when I remember she’s not even thirty yet. The drugs are sucking her life away from her. As she reaches out a thin, knuckly hand to grab the bills from me, it makes me sick to think that the money will just speed up the process.
“Whaddya wanna talk about?” she mumbles as she shoves the cash into her bra. She’s so skinny that the lump sticks out awkwardly.
Ember pulls in a breath, glancing at me, then back at Jess.
“Jessica, my name’s Ember. I’m a friend of Tank Barrigan’s.” I notice right away that Ember avoids the word lawyer. “I’m helping him out, to make sure your daughter Wren has a good, stable home. And well, the problem is, he’s taking good care of her, but he doesn’t have any legal papers saying he’s Wren’s father, which makes that really hard. So, we’re hoping you could help him out with that.”
“Like what? What can I do?”
“Well…” I see the wheels turning in Ember’s head, considering what to say next, how far she should go. “It seems to me like maybe it would be easier for you — if you didn’t want the responsibility that comes with legally being Wren’s mom — to sign responsibility over to Tank as the father. That way, you’re off the hook for her care going forward.”
Jess’s jaw juts. “You mean not be her mom anymore?”
“I mean, biologically of course, you’d always be her mother,” Ember course corrects. “But yes, you could sign away your rights to Tank, and you wouldn’t ever be expected to contribute any money or anything else to help with her upbringing.”
“But then he wouldn’t let me see her.” Jess narrows her eyes into slits. “Why’s he think he has the right to take my daughter from me?” Jess’s voice starts to rise. “He don’t have any right to do that!”
“He didn’t take her from you,” I bite out, unable to keep silent. “You dumped Wren off on him, Jess. He didn’t even know about her. Don’t act like you care about bein’ a mother, and don’t get this shit twisted. You abandoned the kid, and Tank stepped up.”
She sneers at me. “Yeah, you Lords are so fuckin’ noble. You think you can judge me. Like you wouldn’t have done the same thing in my position.”
“Like hell I would,” I shoot back. “That kid deserves better than you gave her. The best thing you can do for her right now is sign your rights over to her father.”
But Jess lets out a screech of a laugh. “You’re so fuckin’ high and mighty, Strike. You’re just lucky I didn’t pick you instead.” She turns to Ember. “You’re wastin’ your fuckin’ time. This one talks a good game, but he’ll never commit to you. None of them ever do. They just use you and toss you aside.”
Jess turns back to me. “Fuck you, fuck Tank, fuck all’a you!” she yells, flinging an arm out defiantly. “Fuckin’ Lords can suck my left tit! I ain’t signin’ a goddamn thing!”
“What about your daughter?” Ember tries again, taking a step closer. “You abandoned her, and now you’re stopping her from having h
er father adopt her, so he can keep her safe. How can you do that to her? Doesn’t Wren deserve better than that?”
“You do not get to judge me, you fancy cunt!” Jess hollers. She lunges forward, the veins in her neck bulging. I reach out and block her before her addled ass can hurt Ember, grabbing her by the shoulders. At my touch, she lets out a deranged howl and starts clawing at me and thrashing against my grip. She’s completely out of control, like an angry feral cat. I shout at Ember to get off the porch, then let go of Jess before she hurts herself. With a final howl, she lets fly a string of filthy curses, then spits at me before flying back into the house, screen door banging behind her.
“Fu-uck,” I mutter. “Yeah, she’s not gonna be reasonable.”
“Shit,” Ember hisses. “Shit, shit, shit.” I climb down off the porch to join her. There are tears in her eyes. “She’s crazy, Striker!”
“It’s the drugs. But yeah, basically the same thing.” I glance over at our car across the street. “Well, I guess now we go back to Tanner Springs and tell Tank and Cady Jess ain’t gonna sign Wren’s custody over to Tank.”
“What are we going to do?” Cady asks, lip trembling.
We’re all sitting in Tank and Cady’s kitchen. Wren is in her bedroom at the end of the hallway, where she’s playing with the door closed.
“Well, we can’t force her to sign if she doesn’t want to,” Ember says. “Maybe we wait a few days and try to talk to her again?”
“It’s a hopeful thought,” I growl. “But seems pretty pie-in-the-sky, to me. Jess was pretty mad. I thought maybe we had a shot at her being grateful that the Lords were willing to let bygones be bygones, but looks like I was wrong.”
“So, we have no recourse.” Tank’s face is stony. “We can’t make Jess sign, and now she’s probably pissed off enough she’ll refuse just because she can.”
“We’ll think of something,” Ember soothes, reaching for Cady’s hand across the kitchen table.
Cady and Ember sit in commiseration, with Ember murmuring encouraging words to calm Cady down. But I know from our conversation on the way back in the car that Ember’s out of ideas, and almost out of hope.
Tank, across from me, meets my eyes and lifts his chin toward the sliding door toward the backyard.
“Hey, brother, can I bum a smoke from ya?” he asks.
I know Tank quit the cancer sticks a while ago because of Wren, but I ain’t gonna deny him. I stand up with him and we go out back, leaving the women to talk between themselves.
“You want one?” I offer, shaking a couple cigarettes out of my pack.
“Nah. I just needed a minute away from that.”
“I figured.” I pull one out for myself, light it up. “Wish we hadn’t struck out with Jess, brother. I thought maybe we were on to something.”
“You did the best you could. And from what it sounds like, it’s good you were there with Ember, to protect her just in case.”
“It was a pretty shady neighborhood. And yeah, for a second there, I thought maybe Jess was gonna attack Ember. The drugs have really got hold of her, Tank.”
The two of us sit in silence, me smoking, Tank staring off into the distance.
“So, you just couldn’t stay away from Ember, could ya?” Tank says.
“What do you mean?” I ask, even though I know.
Tank scoffs, and contemplates at the cherry on his cigarette. “Don’t fuck with me, brother. I shoulda known you wouldn’t be able to keep your dick in your pants.”
“It ain’t like that,” I protest.
“It’s exactly like that, from what I can see,” he shoots back angrily. “You really gonna lie to me and say you ain’t bangin’ her?”
“No, I am.” I struggle to find the words. “It’s just… I think maybe it’s more serious than that.”
“You’re shittin’ me.” Tank looks at me sharply.
“No. You think I’d say that unless it was true?”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Tank whistles low. “She’s too good for your ass, you know.”
“I know.”
A few more seconds pass.
“Striker,” Tank says suddenly. “What if Wren isn’t mine?”
“Get the fuck outta town,” I dismiss him. “She’s yours.”
“Not necessarily.” He pauses. “It ain’t like Jess was a pure little virgin when she was hanging around the club.”
I try to think of a way to argue with that, but I can’t. “When do you get the test results back?” I ask instead.
“A couple days.”
“She’s yours, brother. You’re the only dad she’s ever known. Have faith in Ember, brother. She’s smart as hell. She’ll find a way.”
Tank waves away my words.
“But if I ain’t biologically her dad, they can take her away from me,” he repeats. “You know that. ‘Biker’ ain’t gonna be at the top of their list of preferred occupations for a dad who applies for adoption. Ember said that herself. And Cady can’t cancel my past out. Plus, you know Cady’s family is shady as shit, too. Cady’s not, but anyone who’s looking into us won’t know that.” Tank peers up at the sky. “We love that little girl more than life itself, but that don’t mean shit. Nothing means anything, except a goddamn blood test.” He trails off, sounding fucking exhausted.
I trust Ember completely, but I have to admit Tank might be right. If Wren gets taken away from him — even for a little while — he might never get her back.
Just like I lost my brother to the system, he might lose his little girl.
On the way home, we pick up Bert from the animal hospital. Ember cries when she sees him. I tell her that the Lords have cleaned up her place and ask her whether she wants me to take her there, or to my house.
“I just want to get Bert home, where he’s comfortable and where his surroundings are familiar. I’ll be safe there, won’t I?”
“Yeah, of course. You’ll still have security on you twenty-four seven. Your house wouldn’t have gotten tossed if you’d been in it,” I promise her.
“Then let’s go there.”
We get Bert settled in. Ember makes us some food. It’s been a rough twenty-four hours, and we’re both tired and hungry. We eat mostly in silence, then go in the living room and collapse on the couch.
“I don’t know what the next steps for Cady and Tank should be, Striker,” Ember admits. “At this point, I guess I’m just going to have to wait for the paternity test results and hope for the best.”
I bring up Tank’s worry. “What if he’s not the father?”
Ember pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them.
“Knowing what we do now? That would be kind of a dead end.” Her face is pinched. “We hope that Jessica doesn’t get it in her head to come take Wren back, because legally Tank wouldn’t have a way to stop her.”
“You don’t think she would do that, do you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know her. But it’s possible.” Ember looks glum. “We might have poked the hornet’s nest.”
“But she’s a fuckin’ druggie! Couldn’t we stop her?”
“We could, yes,” Ember nods slowly. “But in that case, like I said, Tank and Cady have no rights to Wren. She’d likely be placed in a foster situation, at least temporarily.”
“Abso-fuckin’-lutely not,” I growl. “There’s got to be another way.”
Ember raises her hands in a helpless gesture. “There wouldn’t really be much we could do about that, Striker. I mean, we could try, but that’s what the state will do. I might be able to talk to a social worker I know to have some influence on where Wren is placed. Maybe she could try to have her put with a family that’s not too far from this area. And maybe that family that would be open to Tank and Cady visiting Wren, but that would be the best-case scenario.”
“No! Fuck, what the hell, Ember?” I stare at her. “Are you just giving up?”
She huffs out a breath. “No, of course I’m not giving up!
Striker, we’re not even there yet, okay? We have every reason to believe Wren is Tank’s daughter. But yes, if she’s not, it’s likely Wren would have to be placed…”
“Okay, stop saying that. I can’t fuckin’ believe this!” I gape at her in disbelief. “Don’t you even care about that family? You’re supposed to be working for them! Not already planning on letting the system take that kid away from them!”
“Oh my God, of course I care about them! I’m just saying that if Tank isn’t Wren’s father…”
“Then the system takes over and gets to decide what’s best for her?” I’m on my feet now, yelling too loud, but I don’t care. “And you’re fine with that?”
“How can you think I’m fine with that? No, of course I’m not, but that’s the way it is!” she shouts back.
“But that’s bullshit! You should be thinking about ways to stop it, ways to work around it! Not just accepting it!”
Ember stands up to face me. “Striker, be reasonable…”
Reasonable. The exact same word the fuckin’ social worker said to me when I argued that I should be able to get legal custody of my brother Richie even though I wasn’t eighteen yet.
Reasonable, my ass. People inside the system always think the system is reasonable. Because the system works for them. Not for people like me. Not for people like Tank.
And not for kids who fall through the cracks.
Ember keeps talking to me, trying to get me to calm down. But all I can see is Wren’s face, shrieking in fear as she’s pulled away from the only parents she knows.
And then, I see Richie, age eight, frantically calling my name as they put him in a car and take him away from me. Richie, who today probably doesn’t even tell people he once had a brother.
“I gotta go,” I choke. I rake a hand through my hair as I turn away and make for the door. When Ember calls after me, I stop at the threshold.
“I’ll call one of the other Lords to take my shift,” I say, my back to her. I can’t look at her right now. I can’t face any of this right now. “You’ll be safe.”
STRIKER: Lords of Carnage MC Page 20