“No,” I told him. “I’ll go home. I can’t go to your house or Darnell’s house because you both have guns, and I have to stay away from your compound so no one thinks I’m hanging out with other felons. I’m going home.”
“I’ll keep her safe,” Darnell said from a few feet away. “No one will mess with her in her house.”
Keisha
As we pulled out of the police services center parking lot, I told Darnell, “I need food, and then I need to beat the hell out of something, and then I need a shower.”
“Tell me what you want and I’ll get you some food. I can take you to Drake Security and let you beat on a heavy bag.”
I shook my head. “I have a yoga mat and some straps. There’s a tree out back I bind it to. It’s perfect for hitting and kicking.”
He grinned at me and looked back to the road. “Words can’t express how much I love you.”
“Darius was pissed the cops have Taylor and the other guy.”
“Yeah, his MC likes to take care of problems their own way. With your legal status, it’s probably better this was handled through the police. Taylor admitted to raping you while you were a prisoner. They have it on audio, and since you knew you were being recorded, it can very much be used against him in court.”
“Which is going to bring on a shitstorm, I’m sure.”
“Zeke is good. He’s on retainer for the RTMC. Most likely, they pay him a set amount every month — whether they need him or not — and he comes running when they call. You’re family of a brother, so his fee might be covered. I’ll talk to Darius tomorrow and see if we owe anything else.”
“Fuck. I don’t want to have to pay for an attorney because fucking Taylor figured out he was transferred because I screamed rape, and I didn’t even fucking tell anyone. And not only that, since I agreed to it, he’s going to argue that I wanted it!”
“Doesn’t matter all that much legally if you wanted it or not. He’s in a shitstorm of trouble because guards can’t have any kind of relationship with an inmate. Still, it sounds like he coerced you from the beginning, and it wasn’t like you went to him with an offer and talked him into it.”
He said it as a statement, but I heard the unasked question, so I told him the unvarnished truth without even stopping to think of how to word it. This was awkward enough without him thinking I was trying to figure out how to lie. “He caught me beating the hell out of someone and I offered him a blow job to look the other way. He took me up on it, but then later demanded I bend over and let him fuck me if I wanted to stay on his good side. It wasn’t beyond me to offer a guard a blowjob if I thought they’d take me up on it and give me what I wanted, but I never offered sex. I submitted when they insisted, but...”
He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, Keesh. We were divorced, and you did what you had to do to survive. They were wrong to accept the offered blowjob, but I wouldn’t be upset if you’d offered more. There’s only a few currencies available for trade in prison. I get it.”
Chapter 22
Keisha
Taylor was out on bail the next day, and Darnell moved me into a Drake Security safehouse. He started out by telling me I was going, and when I refused and got pissed at him, he guilted me into it by telling me how afraid he’d been while he drove to me. Apparently, the Drake Security control room got confirmation I’d been kidnapped, but hadn’t yet received notification I was okay. I saw the worry in his eyes and agreed I’d let him do whatever he had to do to keep me safe, as long as it didn’t interfere with my work.
He worked it out so either he, Darius, or an RTMC member drove me to work, stayed with me while I was there, and then drove me back to the safehouse via a very circuitous route.
At night, it was just Darnell and me, and he made sure I slept good by wearing me the fuck out every night. Not that I’d ever complain, because having Darnell to myself in a big house with a bathroom right next to the bedroom and a full-sized kitchen to cook in was incredible.
“How long do we keep this up?” I asked one morning at breakfast. “The RTMC can’t supply people to just sit and watch me all day indefinitely, and I’m sure Drake Security has other uses for this house.”
“The house would be empty if we weren’t in it. Darius has prospects staying with you during the day, and apparently even if this goes out for six weeks or so, they’re good.”
“It isn’t going to come to trial in six weeks.”
“Doesn’t have to come to trial. Just has to be resolved.”
I didn’t like the way that sounded. Not at all. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing.”
I put my hands on my hips and glared at him, and he crossed his arms and glared back. “I said I’m not getting involved. Do you doubt I’m telling the truth?”
“What is our son planning to do?”
He dropped his hands to his side and shrugged. “I can’t speak for him.”
I sighed, and made a mental note to ask Darius to have dinner with me. Soon. “My parole officer gave me the okay for the RTMC fundraiser thing next weekend. He says since LEO will be there in force, and I’ll be getting community service hours for helping, he approves.”
“Good.” He pulled me into his arms and tucked my head against his chest. “I’m glad you and Darius have healed your relationship.”
“The two of you still need to work some things out. It isn’t fair, really. I fucked up and he’s forgiven me. You were the one who saw to it he was taken care of after I fucked up, and ya’ll still have issues.”
“I didn’t raise him full-time, Keesh… I saw to it he was raised, but he disagrees with the way I went about it. If he wasn’t with Hailey now we’d probably be okay, but my choices back then hurt the woman he loves. I get it. We stepped outside and talked while you were being interviewed, and we’re on our way back to being okay. It’ll work out.”
Chapter 23
Keisha
Saturday morning, Darius picked me up from the safehouse and took me to the huge field the motorcycle club had rented for their charity event. They’d organized a team of city police, a team of county officers, and a third team of firefighters. The three teams would compete on a challenging, muddy, messy obstacle course, with the winning team being able to donate ten thousand dollars to a charity of their choice. Meanwhile, there were all kinds of activities for families and children, lots of food vendors, and the ability for civilians to buy tickets to have a go at the obstacle course later in the evening, to see how they stacked up against the times for law enforcement.
The MC guaranteed the ten grand even if they didn’t make that much in ticket sales and vendor rental space, and promised any proceeds beyond would be donated to the local women’s shelter.
Darius and I were in charge of one of the kids’ obstacle courses, and I loved watching him with the seven to nine-year-old kids who were funneled our way. I had a blast working with the kids all day, and loved seeing my grown son in action. Such a strong, beautiful, kind man. I’ve never been so proud of him as I was on this day.
We were wrapping things up later that evening when we were approached by a man Darius introduced me to as Detective Johnson.
I shook the man’s hand and asked, “What can I help you with, Detective?”
“You’ve both been here all day?”
I said, “Yes,” as Darius said, “Do I need to call my attorney?”
“I don’t believe so. I’m just verifying alibis.”
“One of your officers sold tickets to our course,” Darius told him. “She should be able to verify we haven’t left since early this morning.”
“What’s happened?” I asked.
The detective looked back and forth from me to Darius a half-dozen times before shrugging. “Mike Taylor was bitten by a rattlesnake earlier today. He’s dead.”
“What does that mean? What happens with… what…” I wasn’t sure what to say, or how this might impact me. I realized I sounded shallow by onl
y wanting to know how this affected my own legal status, but I couldn’t find it in me to be sad over his death. I was relieved it’d obviously been some kind of accident — the last thing I needed was for someone to shoot him, and for me or one of my loved ones to be implicated.
Detective Johnson gave me an appraising look. “This simplifies things for you. Dead men can’t defend themselves.”
“You can’t possibly think I’d have anything to do with snakes. Plus, I’ve been here all day. I get that I’m probably your number one suspect, but I do not do snakes.”
“And your ex-husband?”
“Dad’s out of town on a job,” said Darius. “I believe he’s in DC watching over a senator and his family. I assume the word of a senator will be a good enough alibi for you?”
“What I’ve come to expect,” said the detective, “is for the RTMC brothers and their loved ones to have undisputable alibis when your enemies meet a horrible fate.”
“Are you charging me with anything, Detective?” Darius asked, a hint of hostility in his voice.
“Not today. We’ll talk again.”
“He’s right,” I told my son as the detective walked away. “It seems a stroke of luck we have such a good alibi.”
“Karma’s only a bitch if you are. You put out good, it comes back to you. We put out a lot of good today.” He’d had his arm around me holding my waist while we talked to the detective, and he dropped it to hold my hand as he took a step off to our left. “Let’s get something to eat. We have barbecue in the MC’s tent.”
A couple of big, burly, bearded men stood at either side of the door into the MC’s tent, and they nodded to us as we went in.
Two men were running stacks of money through a counter in the center of the room, and bundling them in a box after noting something on a legal pad. Darius stopped beside them and said, “Mom, this is Duke and Brain.” He looked to them as he pulled me closer to him. “This is my mom, Keisha.”
Duke looked up and tipped his head at me. “Thanks for helping us out today, Keisha. It’s much appreciated.”
“I had fun working with Darius. Keep me in mind if you need help in the future.”
“Actually, sometimes the women in the shelters need to get a job, and we help them out with interview clothes, and pay for them to get their hair professionally cut. If you’d volunteer your services to cut hair a few times a month, that’d be great.”
I smiled, pleased I had something to offer. “I’d love to help. I don’t have any business cards with me right now, but Darius knows how to reach me.”
Darius moved his hand from the small of my back to my shoulder as he told the men, “Looks like we had a good day. We’re going to get some food. You need me to bring ya’ll something?”
“We’re good. The barbecue kicks ass and we have plenty.” Brain looked at me. “Glad you’re here. It’s nice to meet you in person.”
I met so many people, it was hard to keep them all straight. We sat with Horse, Gabby, Nix, Bash, Angelica, and Dawg, so I remember them the most. Dawg was so beautiful, if he shaved and cut his hair he could be an underwear model. Hell, the way women liked their men these days, maybe he wouldn’t even need to clean up. His blue eyes were mesmerizing, but it didn’t take me long to see how much of a player he was. He spoke to every female as if they were the most special woman in the world.
The biker sitting beside Dawg told me, “Ghost tells me you’ll be in the market for an inexpensive car in the near future. Let me know, and we’ll work out a time I can go with you to look.”
It took me a second to remember his name — Bash. “Thanks, I appreciate it. I’m riding Darnell’s bike now, but a car will be nice when it gets cold. I just need something dependable. It doesn’t have to be fancy.”
“What bike you ridin?” Dawg asked.
“Harley.”
The guys and Angelica looked at Darius, who said, “Dad has her on a lowrider. I took her out and got her comfortable on it. She’d ridden before, so she was fine almost right off the bat. I understand she and my dad recently had an argument because she was going what he considered much too fast on mountain curves.”
I chuckled. “Sounds like ya’ll talk more than I realized.”
He leaned into me as he said, “Yeah. We’re gettin’ there.”
It seemed rude to talk about something so personal any further around his friends, so I looked to the bikers across the table from us and asked, “I know why you call my son Ghost. Is it rude to ask about your nicknames?”
“I’m Bashful,” Bash said with a shit-eating grin that told me he was lying out his ass.
“Yeah. I can tell,” I said with a laugh. I looked to Dawg. “Yours is pretty easy to figure out. I can spot a horndog from across a field.”
The table laughed, and Dawg winked at me. “And you’re already taken. Breaks my heart.”
“Nix isn’t likely to share,” Darius told me, “but Horse is hung like one.”
I lifted my drink to toast Gabby, his girlfriend, and she bumped her plastic glass with mine.
“You’re enjoying Chattanooga?” Angelica asked me.
I looked at Darius, unsure of what his friends knew, and he shrugged. “There are no secrets in the club. Everyone knows everything.”
I chuckled and answered Angelica. “Anywhere’s better than behind bars, but yeah, Chattanooga’s beautiful and I’m happy to be here. Are you from here, originally?”
She shook her head. “I grew up in Atlanta, spent some time up north in college, and was determined to move back to a city where sweet tea is on every menu.”
Our conversation was relaxed and casual, and I discovered I really liked my son’s friends. I’m not sure what I expected, but it turns out bikers are genuinely nice people. I mean, I’m sure their enemies don’t feel the same, but they went out of their way to make sure I felt welcome.
As we were finishing dessert, Darius pulled his phone out, checked a text, and told me, “Dad and Aaron Drake want you in the safehouse one more night. It’ll be easier to move your stuff out tomorrow when you aren’t tired, anyway. Viper, Hailey, and I’ll stay with you, as we’d already planned.”
I froze as I remembered his friend Viper — an RTMC member who hadn’t been present at a big fundraiser for the club. Did snake shapeshifters exist? Surely not, and even if they did, the guy wouldn’t be named after his animal. None of the MC guys were called Wolf, and one of them was called Horse because of his cock, for crying out loud. Viper probably had a long, snakelike dick.
“Okay. I’d like to go home but the safehouse isn’t exactly a hardship. You’re sure you don’t mind staying with me?’
“Nope. It’ll be good to hang out some more.” He nodded to the table, collected my trash along with his, and walked it to a garbage can.
“Plus,” said Horse, “this gives him an excuse to keep from having to help clean up.”
“Oh, we can stay and help!” I said.
“No, Mom. They’re just giving me shit,” Darius said from behind me as he returned to the table. “I went above and beyond helping with set-up because I knew I wouldn’t be around afterwards. It’s fine.”
“Detective Johnson’s keeping an eye on the front door,” Brain said, approaching us. “Let’s put the two of you out of the back of the tent so you don’t have to deal with any more harassment tonight. We’ll have Zeke notify them that he’s to be present if they need to question her again.”
They’d arranged two flaps on the other side of the tent, so if you knew where they were, you could walk through them into a little thicket of trees beside the parking lot. Darius’s bike was two spaces over, and we were on it and gone before anyone realized.
Chapter 24
Darnell
I flew home with the Senator and his family on Monday, handed them over to their local detail team, and boarded the Drake Security plane for the trip from middle Georgia back to Chattanooga.
Keisha had spent the night at her house Sunday night. Wi
th Taylor dead, I knew she wasn’t under a direct threat, but I still hadn’t liked knowing she was alone with no way to defend herself if there were a problem. I’d made her promise to sleep with the watch on.
I’d explained to the Senator and his wife that a man who’d threatened my ex-wife had turned up dead from a rattlesnake bite, and asked if they’d mind speaking with the Chattanooga Police Department to verify I was in D.C. with them. Nothing like having a rock-solid alibi, but I was aware the RTMC is good at establishing alibis, and I’d just made myself one of them in the local police department’s eyes. I wished there’d been another way, but I’d had to agree this was the cleanest.
Keisha didn’t know about snake-shifters, so I couldn’t tell her we were responsible. I wanted to, but my hands were tied. I knew she’d ask, and I hated having to lie.
The senator’s office had faxed something to the police department, but my presence had still been requested, so I went from the airport to the police services center. They made me wait in the lobby twenty minutes before an officer came to get me, took me to a tiny cubicle, and took my statement. They just needed me on record — my signature below a statement saying I’d been in Washington D.C. at the time of Taylor’s death, and that I was in no way involved with the circumstances surrounding his death.
I have no idea how many deaths I’ve been responsible for during my military career, but this was the first time I’ve had to lie to the government about it. I didn’t kill him, but I hadn’t protested the plan either. Taylor’s death was yet one more mark on my soul. I felt the weight of it, but I’d carry it without regret.
Did the asshole deserve to die? The bottom line was that it shouldn’t have been my decision, but I didn’t trust the justice system and the good-ol’-boys network to keep him locked away so she’d never have to worry about him coming after her again. As far as the RTMC was concerned, he’d raped her in prison and then kidnapped her with plans to do horrible things to her, and in their eyes, it was enough for him to need to die. You don’t fuck with the MC’s family, and nearly everyone who heard he was dead would know the MC did it. The officer who took my statement made the comment about the MC’s ability to find ingenious ways of getting away with murder, and he didn’t sound pleased.
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