Savage Lies: Savage Angels MC #7

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Savage Lies: Savage Angels MC #7 Page 8

by Kathleen Kelly


  I nearly choke on my drink, and Rebel snorts.

  “Zeke said she has balls,” I say with a grin.

  “She’s a good woman,” says Rush.

  Izzy walks back through the doors. “Meat’s nearly done. You all good for drinks?”

  A few of us hand her our glasses for refills, and without asking, she tops up the coffees, then disappears again.

  “When are we going to visit the preacher?” I ask.

  “You and I are going to see him after we’ve eaten,” responds Dane, then he looks at Smithy. “I have a favor to ask.”

  “Anything.”

  “Can I borrow your bike?”

  “Fuck no, but you can have Rio’s.”

  “What?” asks Rio looking pissed.

  Smithy gives him a warning look. “He’ll take care of it, and if he so much as gets it wet, I’m sure he’ll get you a new one.”

  “Fuck, Prez, I’ve never let anyone else ride it. Why can’t he have Roman’s?”

  “‘Cause I said he could have yours.”

  A silent battle wages between the two men, and eventually, Rio backs down. “Fine.”

  Smithy nods at Dane, and the conversation stalls. That’s when Izzy walks back through the doors balancing four plates. She puts them down one at a time in front of us but skips Doc. When she comes back with more, the one she puts in front of him has no fries on it but a salad instead. The old guy says nothing but glares at the greenery on his plate. I push my plate toward him just as Izzy comes back with more food.

  “No, you don’t! And don’t you dare eat any of those fries, or I swear I won’t cook for you again, Doc!” orders Izzy.

  Doc scowls and turns to her. “Izzy, I’m a grown man!”

  Izzy leans on the counter toward him. “Well, act like it!” She pauses and looks at the startled faces of the men staring at her and continues in a softer tone, “Doc I need you around for a long time. The burger is bad enough, you know it. Now, eat up, and I might let you have pie.” Izzy grins at him.

  “Fair enough,” replies Doc in a deflated tone. “But I’m having pie with ice cream.”

  “Hmmm… we’ll see about that,” replies Izzy with a wink.

  It’s obvious she cares for the old man and vice versa. They exchange a meaningful stare, and Doc eventually starts eating. Izzy nods and looks at all of us.

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  Most of us shake our heads, but Rio holds out his glass. “A refill and your number?”

  Izzy laughs. “No chance, sunshine, but I’ll refill your drink.”

  We all laugh at him, and his face goes red, and I can’t tell if it’s from anger or embarrassment. Rio says nothing more but glares at Izzy from time to time. The woman is a trooper, though she ignores him and carries on as if nothing has happened.

  Eventually, we all finish our meals. Dane has been very quiet as we ate. Rebel was his usual self and kept us all entertained. He’s the one member of our club I trust the least. Sometimes when I talk to him, you can tell there’s something more sinister going on behind his eyes. He’s been better since he hooked up with Ruby. Rebel brought her back from Vegas and helped set her to set up a tattoo shop in town. I’ve had her rework a couple of my earlier pieces that are just shit, and Ruby has breathed new life into them and made them better, but each time, Rebel has been there while I was there. He watches her with a predatory look. I’m not the only one who’s noticed, but Dane trusts him.

  “Kade?” asks Izzy, breaking me out of my thoughts.

  “Yeah?”

  Izzy opens the countertop and says, “If you come through here, I can show you where I have Zeke’s bike.”

  I stand and stretch. “Cool.”

  As I walk behind the counter and follow her out the back, Rio calls out, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  The guy’s a dick. Izzy keeps walking, but I can see her shaking her head. The kitchen is spotless as we walk through, and she keeps going past a stairwell to a backdoor that leads out to a courtyard. In the middle of it is what I assume is Zeke’s bike with a sheet over it.

  Izzy hands me the keys. “I covered it up in case it rains. I also washed it. It was filthy.”

  “Thanks, Izzy, and sorry for Rio.”

  Izzy laughs. “Don’t you think twice about it. I’ve handled worse customers than him.” She pulls the sheet off the bike and looks me in the eye. “Is Zeke really okay?” The worry is evident in the creases in her forehead.

  “Yeah, he’s tough.”

  “Yeah, he is. Is he, well that is, does he, I mean…”

  “Spit it out,” I chuckle.

  “Does he have someone at home?” Izzy asks quickly, then busies herself with folding the sheet.

  “You’d have to ask him about that,” I answer, unsure if he’s still interested in Cassia. “I wouldn’t say he was tied to anyone, though.”

  Izzy grins. “Thanks. He’s turned into a good guy.”

  “The best.”

  Izzy nods and motions over her shoulder to the diner. “I need to get back. Just go down the alleyway and turn left and left again, and you’ll find yourself in front of the diner.”

  I nod, climb on, and start the bike. It comes to life, and I maneuver it out of the courtyard and down the alley. When I get to the diner, Dane is sitting on Rio’s bike waiting for me.

  I pull up alongside him. “You know where we’re going?” I ask.

  “To church, brother,” replies Dane with a grin.

  Kade

  The car park to the church has three cars in it when we pull up. Dane parks nearest to the doors, and I park next to him. The bikes are loud, and a few people who are walking past stop and stare at us. We are an imposing sight. I’m six-foot-three, and Dane is six-foot-six, and both of us are built. Dane has more muscle than me, and for a big guy, he manages to walk with the grace of a gazelle while I seem to stomp alongside him.

  We both take the stairs to the church two at a time. Going through the doors, you can tell that there’s wealth here with the ornate wood carvings and the shine to the pews. There are a few parishioners milling about, but we make a beeline for the preacher at the back of the church. The man eyes us as we walk toward him, contempt evident in his gaze.

  A woman blocks our path before we can reach him. “Welcome to The Holy Light Church. It’s so good to have new members!”

  I give her a cursory glance and say, “We’re here for the preacher.” I attempt to walk past her, and she gets in my way again.

  “Daddy? He’s busy today, maybe you could come back tomorrow?” she says hurriedly.

  “He’s your father?” asks Dane.

  “Why yes! My name is Debbie Russo.”

  I study her. She’s definitely related to Zeke. It’s evident in the shape of her eyes and nose.

  “Hello, Debbie. My name is Kade, and this is Dane. We’re friends of Zeke’s, and we’re here to have a word with your daddy. So, you best move.”

  To her credit, she straightens her spine and squares her shoulders. “I told you he’s busy today,” she repeats.

  “Lady, out of respect for your brother, I suggest you move. ‘Cause darlin’, we mean to have a word with him, today,” states Dane as he towers over her menacingly.

  Debbie gulps and looks over her shoulder. The preacher nods at her, and she moves to the side.

  “Thank you,” says Dane with a grin that doesn’t quite touch his eyes.

  Debbie swallows again and nods, fear etched into her face.

  The preacher meets us halfway. “What do you want?” he demands.

  I grab him by his black preacher’s jacket and walk him backward, anger rolling off me in waves. The man stumbles and falls. I tower over him, fist raised.

  Then Debbie screams out, “No!”

  I glance at Dane, who shrugs and gives Debbie a meaningful stare. The preacher struggles to sit up, and I push him back down.

  “Why?” I demand to know.

  “Why what?” he y
ells back.

  “You really going to make me beat it out of you?” I ask, barely able to control my rage.

  “He came back here for money! I asked the sheriff to warn him off! He’s no good, just like his whore of a mother!” screams the preacher in a high-pitched voice.

  “Daddy!” screams Debbie.

  The man’s face softens as he looks around me to her. “Go outside, Debbie, now!”

  “What did you do?” asks Debbie.

  “Leave now, call the sheriff!”

  Dane smiles. “Yes, Debbie, call the sheriff. Tell him we’ll wait for him.”

  Debbie looks at Dane and cringes, but she runs from the church, mobile phone in hand.

  I look back down at the preacher, willing myself not to hurt him in public. Roughly, I shove him away, and his head bounces off the wooden floor.

  “Zeke didn’t come here for the money. He wouldn’t take anything off you. Your son came back here for his sisters and to try and help you out of the hole you’ve dug by borrowing money from the wrong people. And he wasn’t doing it for you,” I sneer as spittle sprays from my lips. “He was doing it for them,” I say as I point in the direction Debbie ran.

  “He’s no son of mine!” yells the preacher.

  I raise my fist, and Dane grabs my arm. “Only a good son would come back to help a fucker like you. Zeke is loyal. Why can’t you see that?” asks Dane.

  The preacher scuttles backward from us, eyes wide and crazy. “He’s no son of mine! That slut I married couldn’t keep her legs shut! But I got her…” he lowers his voice and hisses, “I. Got. Her.”

  Dane and I exchange a look, the meaning of what the preacher is saying rings through loud and clear—he murdered his wife. When Zeke talks about his mother, it was always with reverence, and I know she died when he was young, but I can’t remember how she died.

  “What did you do?” I whisper.

  The preacher smiles, it’s twisted and gloating. “You’ll never know.”

  For a tall man, he gets up quickly and runs to the back of the church and out a side door. I’m left standing there, wondering what the hell he’s just told us. I glance at Dane whose face has gone as hard as marble, his top lip peeled back in disgust.

  “Now what?” I ask him.

  “We talk to Zeke. Find out what he knows about his mother’s death, deal with the sheriff, the sisters, and the men the fuckwad owes money to.”

  “Is that it?”

  “It’s enough for now,” rumbles Dane.

  We waited for an extra five minutes outside the church to see if the sheriff would show up—he didn’t. Debbie went running back into the church as soon as we left. None of the parishioners came to the preacher’s defense, which I found strange. When we arrive back at Doc’s house, Zeke is still out.

  Doc and his friend, Rush, are sitting in the living room, and I take a seat in one of the Doc’s chairs.

  “Where is everyone?” I ask.

  Doc answers, “The ones you came with went into town to buy groceries, and those other boys said they’d be back later tonight or tomorrow for their bike.”

  I nod, not sure how to start this conversation. I’ve always found honesty to be the easiest way to go. I wish Destiny was with me. She’s good at this stuff and can twist Zeke around her little finger. The man does as he’s told with her. Hell, most men do, me included.

  “Doc, we had a conversation with Zeke’s father, and he said some interesting things.”

  Doc’s head snaps up, and his eyes become sharper as he looks at me. Rush leans back and crosses his arms.

  “What did that evil son of a bitch say?” asks Doc.

  “How did Zeke’s mom die?”

  Rush sucks in a breath of air while Doc nods his head, looking sad. “Eleanora could have done a lot better than Michael Russo. Never understood why she married him. As far as I know, she died in a car accident. There was never any hint of foul play, was there, Rush?”

  “N-no. Not that we ever suspected. Why do you ask?”

  “The preacher inferred that he ‘got her.’ He made it sound like he killed her,” I reply.

  Rush stands up, and Doc purses his lips together.

  “Did he say that?” demands Rush in a louder tone.

  “He more or less did. Called her a slut who couldn’t keep her legs closed, and that Zeke wasn’t his.”

  The color drains out of Rush’s face, and I think he’s going to keel over. Doc stands and places a hand on the man’s arm.

  “Rush, are you okay?”

  “Zeke isn’t his?” asks Rush as he stumbles out of the living room toward Zeke’s bedroom.

  Doc follows him, and so do I. Rush stops outside of Zeke’s room as tears well in his eyes.

  “She never told me. She came to see me a month before she died, said she’d had enough. Eleanora said she was going to leave him. That he’d finally pushed her too far and what did she need to do to file for divorce. I should have taken her into my home then. I always loved her, but when we were young, I had ambition, a career, and I didn’t want to be saddled with a wife and family.” A tear trickles down his face. “I was a fool. Eleanora broke her vow to Russo once. I came across her in the supermarket, and she took one look at me and burst into tears. One thing led to another, and I knew she was unhappy. I took advantage, just to have her once.” Rush stares at me. “She never told me. Zeke would be about the right age. Apart from that one time, Eleanora wouldn’t see me again, not like that. Regardless of what Russo says, she was and always will be a lady.”

  Rush rubs his eyes and turns his back on us and walks out the back door. Doc looks speechless. I stare at Zeke’s sleeping form and look for a likeness with the man.

  “He looks like him,” I state.

  “Yeah, he does. I’ve known that man forever, and I never knew. I mean I knew he held a candle for Eleanora but not this.”

  I nod and walk out the backdoor looking for Rush. I find him just staring straight ahead. Dane is out here sitting on the hood of the Fiesta, mobile phone pressed to his ear probably talking to Kat. He takes one look at me, and the smile falls off his face. In another thirty seconds, he’s off the phone and walking toward me.

  “What’s up now?”

  “Seems like Rush and Zeke’s mom had a thing, and he could be Zeke’s dad.”

  Dane’s eyebrows go up. “Well, fuck.”

  I nod. That pretty much sums up the entire day. Dane walks up to the older man and places a hand on his shoulder.

  “Tough day?”

  Rush turns around and faces us, no more tears. Instead, anger blazes from his eyes. “That man has to pay! I want him to bleed for what he’s done.”

  “Agreed,” states Dane.

  Zeke

  I wake up with a dry mouth, ribs that throb, and my left eye has minimal vision because of the swelling. I attempt to get out of bed and groan as my ribs take it up a notch. When I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, I realize Kade is sitting in a chair watching me.

  “Creeper,” I mutter.

  “Fuck you. I was making sure you were okay. You’ve been out for a day.”

  “A fucking day, and you watched me sleep? I’ve always wondered about you,” I tease.

  “Dare you to say that to Destiny,” answers Kade.

  “That woman knows I like vaginas. I’ve never watched you sleep.”

  “That woman has a vagina, so I’m pretty sure I’m not into guys, especially you.”

  Both of us chuckle.

  I hold out my hand to him. “Bit of help up?”

  Kade moves quickly and helps me to my feet and to the bathroom door.

  “Thanks, man, think I’ve got it from here.”

  “Don’t need me to hold it for you?”

  “Well, it’s bigger than yours. You might strain something.”

  “You’re a fucking funny fucker, aren’t you?”

  “I aim to please.”

  I shuffle toward the toilet. My muscles are stiff from lack of
use. I do what I need to do and wash my hands and face. The beard is getting too long, and I think about trimming it, but Cassia likes it. Holding onto my side, I try to walk normally back to the bedroom but stop in the hall and walk to the kitchen instead.

  I find Kade, Dane, Rebel, and Dirt sitting around Doc’s table.

  “Hey, fellas, what’s up?” I ask.

  “You look like shit,” says Rebel.

  “Thanks, man. and fuck you, too.”

  Rebel grins at me and rubs a hand over his head. The man wears his hair so short and never has a beard of any kind.

  Dane stands and offers me his seat. “Sit.”

  “Nah, Prez, been laying down too long. Need to stand and get some feeling back.”

  Dane nods and looks at Kade. “Tell him.”

  Kade looks uncomfortable and shifts in his seat. “You hungry?”

  “Tell me what, Kade?”

  “You hungry? Or want a drink? Or—”

  “For fuck sake, just tell me,” I demand, cutting him off.

  Kade strums his fingers on the table, nods once and looks up at me. “Your father owes money to a branch of the Russian mob. Which is weird they’d even be interested, but it appears as though Gerald Lee had a hand in it.”

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  Dane cuts in, “It’s all been a set up to get you out of Cassia’s life. Dirt reached out to the person who holds the marker only to be told it was onsold. Gerald Lee doesn’t like you very much, and it appears that he thought he could get rid of you by settling the debt. The only problem is you didn’t take the money. So now they are coming after the preacher for it.”

  “How would Gerald Lee even know about the Russian mob?” I ask.

  “Zeke, that man knows a lot of people. From what I can gather, he borrowed off them years ago to open the store. He repaid the debt in no time flat, but they kept in touch with him. Gerald saw an opportunity to fuck you over through your family and took it.”

  “How did you find all this out?” I ask as I pour myself a glass of water.

  “Salvatore Abruzzi,” answers Dirt. “He has a working relationship with them, and no one wants a war. They’re willing to work with us if the money gets repaid with thirty percent interest.”

 

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