“It ain’t nothin’. Least I can do.”
Izzy puts a bowl of fruit down in front of the old man, and he scowls at her but doesn’t say anything. For a while, we eat in silence. I’m so dog tired, I pay little attention to them and concentrate solely on my meal. It’s not as good as I remembered. The waffles don’t have the same texture, or maybe it’s because I was a kid, and the previous owner gave me extra maple syrup.
When I’m done, I look up at them and find their gazes firmly planted on me.
“What?”
“Did you chew?” asks Izzy.
Doc smiles. “When was the last time you ate?”
I feel my face redden. “It’s taken me five days to get here. Not a lot of stops, and I’m dead on my feet. I needed food, and now I need to sleep.” I smile at the Doc. “Your offer still good?”
“Do bears crap in the woods?” asks Doc as he fishes out some notes and hands them to Izzy.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” I stand and place some money on the counter and look at Izzy. “It’s good seeing you again. You still the prettiest girl in town?”
Izzy laughs. “I was never the prettiest girl in town.”
I head for the door with Doc, but I stop and turn around as I get to it.
“You were to me.” I wink at her and grin as a look of shock crosses her face, then step out onto the sidewalk.
Doc is outside looking at me with bemusement. “I don’t remember you being this good with the women.”
“I had to grow up sometime.”
“Indeed.”
Doc’s house is nothing like I remember. The paint is peeling off, all the windows need a good cleaning, and the garden is overgrown. When I was young, the place always looked immaculate. I park my bike in front of Doc’s and wait as he makes the short trip from the diner to his home. As he walks to the front door, he’s limping, and as I look at him, I can see he’s tired.
“You been sleeping okay, Doc?”
He shakes his head. “Not since Millie died.” Doc gives me a half-smile and shrugs. “It’s only been a year.” Not knowing what to say, I nod. Doc opens the door and turns to me. “The place is a bit of a mess, but your room hasn’t been used for a long time, so it’ll need some airing, but it’s clean.”
“It’s cool, Doc. I’m grateful I don’t have to stay in that fleabag motel.”
Doc nods, and we both head inside. There’s a layer of dust everywhere and some plates on the coffee table in the living room. The carpets could use a good vacuuming, and I notice as we walk through the kitchen that the floors need a mopping as well. There are more dishes piled high in the sink. Doc has let everything slip, and I wonder if anyone has been to visit him in a while.
We get to the back of the house, and Doc opens the door. Inside, I find a double bed, all made up, and the room, although stuffy, is clean. I immediately walk to the window and open it.
“Thanks, Doc. This is great.”
I look around the room decorated in white and blue. The quilt seems handmade in various shades of blue with a white ruffle.
Doc points to the corner of the room that has a screen in front of it. “There’s a door behind there. If you park your bike around the back, you can come and go as you please.”
“Bathroom?” I ask.
“It’s across the hall. It hasn’t been used in a while either…” Doc looks around the room.
“Doc, I get it. It’s hard losing someone. There are no judgments here.”
The old man looks up at me quickly. “I keep telling myself I have to be better, and then I think, what’s the point?” Before I can respond, he’s walking out of the room and waving a hand in the air. “I’ll leave you to it. Dinner is at six. You can cook, and there should be towels in the cupboard in the corner of the bathroom.”
I watch his retreating form and yell, “Thanks.”
The bathroom has some dead bugs in the shower and a layer of dust, but apart from that, it’s fine.
The warm water feels like heaven as it flows down my body. I can feel the road grime fall off me and my muscles relax. I soap up and get clean. When I’m sure I’ve washed the road away, I dry off and stumble toward the bed.
Laying there, I look up at the ceiling and remember my father, Michael Russo. He is taller than me. I’m five-foot-eleven, and he towered over me growing up at six-foot-five. Dad always said I took after my mother, and he never said it kindly. The man never showed me an ounce of love or kindness, and when I ran away at fifteen, he never so much as posted a missing person report. Kade and JJ were the only family I ever really had. A lump forms in my throat thinking about JJ. We may have gotten justice for him, but the loss of him affects me to this day. JJ was closer than a brother, more to me than my damaged family. I’d trade places with him in a heartbeat. Being back in my hometown with my father and sisters, I realize Kade and JJ had my back like they never did.
I close my eyes, trying to block out memories of my family by focusing on the true friendships I shared with JJ and Kade.
Zeke
I’ve been hiding in Doc’s house for two days. We eat breakfast together, which I cook, and have lunch at the diner where I flirt with Izzy. For dinner, we either go back to the diner or I concoct something here. I’ve also cleaned the downstairs of Doc’s home, so it’s sparkling. The decline of his home and him disturbs me. He refuses to get help, and I feel like he’s just existing here, waiting to die and join Millie.
I’m standing in the kitchen, helping myself to a coffee when Doc comes in.
“Son, I appreciate everything you’re doing, but I’m sure you didn’t come all this way to clean my house… or did you?”
I chuckle at the old man. “No, Doc, I didn’t,” I pause and look at the floor. “It’s been so long, I don’t know how to approach him. It’s not like we were ever close.”
Doc makes a clucking noise, and I look up at him. “Zeke, need you to listen to me and good. He’s not worth your time. Whatever made you come back to see him, forget it. That man is no man of God, well, at least he was never that to you.”
I nod. There’s no need to say anything. Doc patched me up more than once at the hands of my father.
“Guess, I should go find him.”
“Why not visit your sisters first? They’ll be happy to see you.”
I shake my head. “Nah, need to confront the devil before I see the angels.”
Doc laughs. “You always had a soft spot for those girls. Never could understand why he took his rage out on you and not them.”
I frown. “Me either.”
Reluctantly, I put my cup in the sink and head for the back of the house. This time of day, my father will be at the church. With any luck, there’ll be parishioners there, and he’ll be forced to be nice to me. I walk out the back door and mount my bike. It’s an old seventy-five shovelhead, and it’s painted matte black. The chrome gleams against the paintwork. Well, it would if it weren’t coated with five-day-old road grime.
It takes me less than five minutes to drive to the church. It’s close to the center of town, and I barely recognize the place as I pull up and park. Where once stood a humble wooden building with a dirt parking lot now stands a brick building with a concrete lot.
There are a few people standing outside. Everyone stops and stares at me as I dismount. I’m dressed in boots, a black tee, jeans, and my cut with my black wraparounds. I am, no doubt, an imposing figure.
I walk up the steps and nod at the people on the way in and go through the doors. The outside of this building was impressive, but the inside screams wealth. Is this where he’s put all the money that he borrowed?
I pull off my wraparounds and let my eyes adjust to the light. A scream from the front of the church draws my attention. My sister, Debbie, is running toward me. When she reaches me, she throws her arms around my neck.
“Zeke! I can’t believe it’s you! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming! Daddy is going to be so pleased.”
Debbie
is the youngest of my sisters and the most excitable. I manage to pry her off me.
“Hey, sis, it’s been a while,” I say softly as being inside his church has always had that effect on me. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken loudly unless he was beating on me.
Debbie places a hand either side of my face. “You look good!” Then she pulls on my beard. “But you’re way too handsome to cover up your face with this!”
I chuckle at her. Debbie is five-foot-two, carrying more weight than the last time I saw her with long, dark curly hair.
“It’s all part of the image,” I reply with a wink.
“You’ll never fool me, Zeke Russo. I know you’re a good man underneath all that… stuff.”
“Ri-ight,” I say, drawing out the word, then I look around. “Things have changed a bit.”
“Yes, Daddy has done well investing the church’s money and building us a better house of The Lord.”
“Speaking of Dad, where is he?” I ask with fake enthusiasm.
“You’re not here to start trouble, are you, Zeke?” asks Debbie with a crease furrowing her brow.
“Why would you ask me that?”
“It’s just that,” Debbie pauses and looks around and lowers her voice, “there were some men here last week that looked like you. Daddy said they were only here to hear The Lord, but…”
“They looked like me? They were in the Savage Angels?”
“No, not bikers, but they had tattoos and looked scruffy.”
I scowl at her and take a step back. Debbie has lived a sheltered life. My father always favored her and kept her from everything. She has no real-world experience. From time to time, I would visit with her, Leonie, and Elizabeth. The other two are both older than me. Leonie got married at seventeen and had six children one after the other. Elizabeth got married at twenty-one but has had no children. We’ve never discussed it, but I get the feeling she just never wanted any. Debbie has never married. Hell, I’m not even sure if she’s had a boyfriend as she’s spent all her time with Dad and the church.
“Not everyone who has tattoos and a beard is a bad person,” I say with a scowl.
“Well, I know you’re not!” Debbie huffs at me. “Although, Daddy says we shouldn’t encourage you.”
“Does he now?” I ask, raising my voice slightly.
“Oh, don’t be like that! You’ve always challenged Daddy, and there’s no need for it.”
I purse my lips together and scowl. It’s no use having any kind of conversation about Dad with any of my sisters. None of them have ever believed that he used to beat me. If he hurt me too bad, Doc and Millie would look after me, or he’d tell them and the town that I was clumsy. I swear I must have been the clumsiest kid in the whole county. Being the pillar of the community, no one ever challenged him or asked about my injuries.
“Where is he?”
“He’s out back. Now, be nice. It’s been what, three years since you’ve seen him?” asks Debbie as she grabs my arm and drags me toward the back of the church.
“No, love, it’s been five.”
“No, you were here three years ago.”
“I come for you, Leonie, and Elizabeth, not him.”
“There you go again causing trouble! It’s no wonder Daddy doesn’t like to talk about you. Why can’t you just let things be?”
“Meaning?”
“You provoke him! You know Daddy doesn’t approve of your lifestyle.”
“Do not judge lest ye be judged,” I reply as I walk ahead of her and out the back entrance of the church.
When I open the door, I’m blown away at what I find. They’ve purchased the lot next door, knocked down the building that was there, and have planted a lavish garden.
I turn to Debbie. “How did he afford to do all this?” I ask as I sweep my arm wide.
“I told you, Daddy made some wise investments.”
Knowing what I know, I nod, keep my mouth shut, and proceed further into the garden. My father spots me first. I watch as he excuses himself from his flock and hurries toward me. He’s older, a little stooped, but the expression on his face is still the same—quiet fury at my presence.
“Daddy! Look who’s come to visit,” squeals Debbie.
He gives Debbie a tight smile and holds his hand out to me. “Zeke, nice of you to visit. How long are you staying?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. Dear old Dad gestures to the group he just left and says, “I’m in the middle of something now. Why don’t you go back to the house with Debbie, and we’ll catch up in an hour or so?” His eyes bore into mine and again he continues. “Good. See you later. Debbie, take him to the house.” Dad pats her on the arm and strides away.
Debbie beams at me. “See! He’s happy to see you! Now, do you want to come in my car or follow me?”
“I think I remember where we live, Debbie.”
“Oh, no! Daddy doesn’t live there anymore. We have a new home now.” Debbie smiles sweetly at me and walks back in through the church doors.
I cast another look at my father to see he’s watching me with a look of distaste on his face. Great. Just like old times, except it’s been a long time since anyone has laid a hand on me in anger and not lived to regret it.
I’m sitting in one of the fanciest kitchens I’ve ever been in, let alone seen. It looks like something out of a home magazine. White cabinets are inlaid with glass with black handles and marble countertops. All the appliances are top-of-the-line stainless steel. Even the stool I’m sitting on is chrome and leather. No expense has been spared here.
Debbie made me a cup of coffee. It’s good. It came out of a fancy machine, and I’m watching Debbie as she fusses and tries to look busy in this ridiculous house.
“Where’d Dad get all the money for this?” I ask as I gesture around the room.
“People have been very generous,” replies Debbie with a smile.
“Hmmm… I guess they have.”
“Would you like more coffee?”
“Yeah, Deb, that would be good.”
She’s avoiding conversation and eye contact. I’m thinking Deb knows what’s going on.
“You seeing anyone?”
Deb stops what she’s doing and starts shaking her head. “No. Between looking after Daddy and all the work I do for the church, there isn’t time. How about you?”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of? What does that mean?” asks Deb.
I scrunch my face up as an image of Cassia comes to mind. “It’s complicated. Her daddy doesn’t approve.”
My father’s voice comes from behind me. “Why am I not surprised? If you lay down with dogs, you’ll get fleas.”
“Daddy!” yells Debbie, dropping my replacement coffee.
“Debbie, leave the mess and leave us. Your brother and I have things to discuss.”
“Daddy, Zeke is here to—”
“Leave!” yells my father.
Debbie looks at me, tries to smile, then runs from the room.
Slowly, I turn the stool around and face him.
He curls his top lip and asks, “Why are you here, boy?”
“I’ve missed you, too, Dad.” I get off the stool, hold my arms out wide and do a twirl. “Seems like you’re doing very well for yourself.”
My father scoffs. “Ahh, that’s why you’re here. I have nothing for you. I never did.”
Scowling, I recoil from him, rage builds inside me. “If you haven’t noticed, I want for nothing, and I have never asked you for anything. What would make you think I’d take anything off you, anyway?”
He laughs, copies me, and holds his arms wide and does a twirl. “So, you’re just here to see how well we’re doing without you?” Dad shakes his head and levels me with a hard look, much like he did when I was a child, but I am a man now. “There’s no place for you here,” Dad states flatly.
“You got that right. I’m here for the girls. Do they know how much you’ve borrowed for all this and your fancy new church?”
T
he color drains out of his face, and his mouth falls open. I begin nodding my head, and a snarl escapes me.
“Well, do they?” I ask, raising my voice.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Dad snaps.
“Why do you think I’m here? I got offered a deal! It’s a small fucking world, Dad, if you break the law.”
He takes two steps toward me and slaps me hard across the face. “Watch your language!”
I rock back on one foot, rub my jaw, and smile. “You only get one. Do that again, and you’ll find out how much of a man I’ve turned into.” I step into his space. “Do. You. Get. Me?” I ground out.
His eyes widen, and he stumbles backward. “Get out!”
“No,” I say with an eerie calm.
“I said, get out!” Dad yells at me and raises his fist.
I glance at it. “I dare you, I fucking dare you.”
I can see a whole tumult of emotions crisscross his face, and slowly he lowers his hand.
“I said get out,” he whispers.
“I will, but I’ll be back, and so will the men you owe money to. You’d best tell the girls what you’ve done ‘cause if you don’t, I will.”
I stride out of his house and onto my bike, rage gnawing at my insides. I keep riding until I’m at a familiar place. It’s a park on the outskirts near the river. As a kid, we all came out here to have some fun, but for me, it was to escape my father. My phone is against my ear, and I’ve dialed Kade without even realizing it.
“Hey, man, what’s up?” Kade answers cheerfully.
I’m lost for words. I know I need to say something, but nothing comes.
“Zeke?” Worry laces his tone.
I grunt. I’m worried if I speak, I’ll either yell or cry or explode, none of which are what I want to do. Fuck I don’t even know why I came.
“Are you hurt?” asks Kade, followed by, “Do you need me to come?”
I’m nodding, but he can’t see that, so I say, “Fine.”
I can hear him release a breath. “You’re fucking old man?” It’s a question and a statement all rolled into one, and I can hear his voice turn from concern to hatred.
Savage Lies: Savage Angels MC #7 Page 4