by M. Never
This is not a happy reunion, goddamn it. His stepdaughter is out there. The love of my fucking life. And he’s surrounded by smiling fucking faces, all wanting to know how life is fucking treating him.
“Gimme the bottle.” I slam my hand on the bar.
Popeye places the Jack in front of me, and I grab it by the neck. If it was Deacon, I’d squeeze the shit out of it.
I head into the back room to wallow alone in the dark. All I can think about is Kira. All I can hear is her voice. Is her terrified screams. I’m falling apart. I slide my hands into my hair and pull, welcoming the pain. My eyes water. I’m so lost. Just like she said I was. She knew. She’s known me from the very start. Saw everything I was trying to hide.
The only thing I was guilty of was caring about you. Her words destroy me. Tear me apart piece by piece.
A renegade tear rolls down my cheek.
How did this happen? How did everything just fly off the rails? And how can I fix it? That’s the question that’s eating me alive. How do I fix it? How do I find him? Find her?
“Ky?”
I wipe my wet face as fast as I can at the sound of my name.
“You okay, son?”
“No, I’m not fucking okay.” What’s the point in hiding it?
My father puts his hand on my shoulder.
“You really love her, huh?”
“More than you could ever understand,” I admit.
“Oh, I think I understand more than you realize when it comes to a Kendrick woman’s power.”
I huff. “They’re like fucking witches, right? They possess you.”
My Pops laughs. “That’s definitely one way to put it.” He sits down at the poker table next to me.
“How can you be so calm?” I ask, lost. “Just out there socializing? Aren’t you pissed off? Don’t you want to rip someone’s head off?” I clench my jaw, my hands shaking.
“Yeah, I fucking do, and much worse. And I will. But expending all that energy now isn’t going to get us to Kira any faster. When the time comes, I’m going to use all that bottled-up rage to raise hell. Summon the Devil himself.” He sits back and crosses his arms, and for the first time since we walked into the Den, I see the wrath in his eyes. It brings a sense of relief. I want the killer to come out. I want the man I heard stories about by my side. The one who would shoot first and ask questions later. The one who was ruthless. The one my crazy-ass grandfather named his predecessor.
My father has definitely undergone a metamorphosis in his life. He said having me changed a lot of his perspective. It made him want to be a better role model. A man I could be proud of. I know he has demons, way more than any one man should have. But he succeeded in turning his life, and this club, around. The Baum Squad Mafia may not be perfect. It may still have some shady corners, but for the most part, the men who are a part of it can ride with their heads held high. Can be proud to wear the patch and still be a functioning member of society. That’s all he ever wanted.
“Dad, I’m sorry,” I apologize earnestly.
The surprise from my declaration is blatant on his face. Yeah, I wasn’t expecting it either, but it feels like the right time to say it. “I’m sorry I turned my back on you. I’m sorry I shut you out.” I rest my weary head in my hands. I have blamed him this whole time. Accused him of walking out on me when, in reality, I walked away from him. I was so angry. Angry that he wanted something different. That a woman was influencing his decision. I manifested a person I could hate so my resentment could grow. It was wrong. I didn’t understand. I didn’t know a person could feel like this. That love could take such a strong hold. Being apart from Kira is literally suffocating me. It’s difficult to breathe. Difficult to think. Difficult to function. I’m shriveling inside like a rotting piece of fruit.
And now I know how my father feels about Kristen. How he could walk away from the life he knew and still be perfectly content. Looking at him now, I see how good she is for him. Equally as good as Kira is for me. She’s opened my eyes and my heart to so much and paved a way back to my father. Kira has given me everything, and all I have given her is grief and heartache and failure.
I failed her.
“It’s okay, son.” He rubs my shoulder.
“Kira made me promise to fix things with you.”
“Looks like you’re taking her advice. She’s a smart one.”
“Yeah, she is. Too smart for me. Too good for me. Did you really leave an empty seat for me during the holidays?” I recall her telling me that, and how much it affected me.
He nods. “Every one. Birthdays, too. I just wanted you there. With us somehow.”
“I really fucked up, huh? Lost all that time with you.” Regret moves in like an uninvited house guest.
“We’ve all made our mistakes. But what’ve I always told you about them?”
“Learn from them.” He drilled it into my head.
“It’s all any of us can do.”
“I’m learning, fast.”
“I know you are.” He places his hand on my neck and presses his forehead to mine. “You’re my boy. You’ll find your way.”
“I want to find Kira.” I close my eyes and wish hard.
“We will.” He taps my cheek reassuringly.
“What did you tell Kristen? Does she know?”
“I just told her you needed me, and I had to come back. She understood. I didn’t want to alarm her if I didn’t have to.”
“You’re gonna have to tell her something, eventually.”
“I’ll deal with that when the time comes.” He rubs his hands together, clearly concerned about that conversation.
“They’ve been through a lot, huh?”
“Too much. I’m not sure how much Kira told you, but I don’t think even she knows how bad it was. How deep it went. How deprived her father really was.” A dark flash of malice blackens my father’s eyes. “If I were to ever come out of retirement, he’d be the first person I park a bullet in.”
“She didn’t tell me everything, but what she did tell me was pretty bad. She tried to commit suicide?”
“She was pretty fucked up over it, yeah.”
“And now she’s dealing with this. How much can one person take?”
“I’m not sure, but if she’s anything like her mother, she can survive a lot.”
“I hope so.” I pray so.
My father’s phone rings. “Crap, that’s probably Kristen. Wish me luck.”
“I’m here for you, Pops.” I slap his leg.
When he looks at the screen, though, his expression is perplexed.
“Who is it?”
He shakes his head and slides to answer it.
“Gambit. Long time, brother.”
I shoot out of my seat at the sound of Deacon’s voice. My father motions for me to circle behind him so I can see the screen; it’s a FaceTime call.
“Kira,” I exclaim. Deacon has her hands bound behind her back, sitting on the edge of a full bathtub, shivering and soaking wet. “If you fucking hurt her, Deacon, I swear to fucking God, I will kill you!” I roar.
He laughs at me. “Kira and I have been having so much fun. Want to see?”
Kira shakes her head and begins to cry as Deacon wraps a hand around her throat and pushes her back into the water. He holds her under as she helplessly kicks and fights, deprived of air.
I lose my fucking mind watching her tortured. “Deacon, I will bury you!” I scream so loud everyone in the bar rushes into the poker room.
“What the fuck do you want?” my father demands.
“I want you to come find me.”
“Tell me where you are, and that won’t be a problem,” my pops threatens.
“Let her up!” All I can concentrate on is Kira’s suffering.
“Your little mermaid likes the water.” He continues to hold her under, and I continue to race down the road of insanity.
“Deacon.” My father utters his name in a tone so chilling it gives everyone i
n the room hypothermia. “Your fucking beef is with me. Let’s finish it.”
“I plan on finishing it.” He finally lets Kira up, and she gasps and coughs so hard it sounds like she has bronchitis.
“Ky,” she cries, and I nearly fall to my knees.
“You know where to find me.” Deacon dunks Kira back under the water, then hangs up.
“No!” I grab the phone and almost crush it in my hands. “What is he talking about? Where is he?” I grill my father.
“I have no idea. I haven’t had any contact with Deacon in ten years.”
“A place from the past, maybe?” Tempest suggests.
“Give me the phone.” Hawk grabs at my hand. “Maybe I can trace the number.”
Just as he takes it, it beeps with a text message. He opens it, and we all look. It’s an image of an A-frame cabin with a double glass door outlined in red.
“Dad?”
My father inspects the image. “He’s in Arrowhead. That’s his family’s cabin. We used to go party up there. It’s remote. And a decent drive away.”
“Well, let’s fucking go.” I’m ready for this to go down.
“It’s a trap,” Hawk states the obvious.
“Of course it is. But I don’t care if the fucking tree-lined drive is covered in landmines, we need to go. You saw what he was doing to her.”
“Ky is right. We need to go now. No more waiting,” my father thankfully agrees.
“There’s shit behind the bar,” Tempest announces. “Enough for all of us.”
The “shit” he’s referring to is guns and ammo. “Hawk made us stock up after the whole hair situation.”
“Hair situation?” my Pops repeats.
“I’ll explain everything later.” I burst back into the bar. “Pull everything out.”
Hawk and Tempest unveil what looks like a mini arsenal onto the bar top. They weren’t playing around.
“We need some kind of plan,” Breaker voices as he locks and loads a 9mm.
“Kill that motherfucker.” I aim a Glock at a green gin bottle displayed behind the bar.
“That goes without saying.” Bone ties his long red hair up into a bun, then flips two handguns around on his fingers.
“I can send a drone in to canvas the area,” Hawk suggests.
“I don’t think you’ll see much. The cabin is small and hidden in some dense woods,” my dad informs us.
“Sometimes you don’t need a plan.” I pull the trigger, exploding the bottle. “Just some big balls.”
“Jesus Christ, kid. Save it for Deacon.” My dad grabs for the gun and lowers my hands.
“I needed to fucking destroy something.”
“Feel better?” he asks.
“No.” I holster the gun in the waistband of my jeans. Then I shove another in my boot. “The ace in the hole.” I wink at him. He taught me that.
“So, are we going in there all Young Guns then?” Tempest poses like a gun slinger. The man is a West Coast version of an urban cowboy. Leather, denim, and hardnose attitude.
“We’re rollin’ seven deep. Unless he has a fucking army up there, we have the advantage on our side,” Breaker rationalizes.
“We don’t know what the fuck he has up there, but we can’t waste any more time talkin’. We proceed with caution and evaluate the situation when we get there,” my father makes the final call.
“I’m good with that.” I head straight for the door.
“Hey.” He grabs my arm, pulling me aside. “Your sole concern is Kira. Got me? I’ll handle Deacon.”
“Pops, I’m not gonna let you do anything stupid.”
“When have you ever known me to do anything stupid, kid?” He slaps me in the face.
Just like old times.
The ride out to the Arrowhead cabin takes a little over two hours. I am an antsy mix of emotions the whole way there. I want this to be done and over with fast. Bullet in the brain and be gone. Riding off into the sunset with Kira safe and sound on the back of my bike. The end. But a gnawing feeling inside me is anticipating it to be much worse.
My dad gives the signal to turn off while on the back of Breaker’s bike. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him sit bitch.
He wasn’t kidding when he said the cabin was remote and hidden in dense trees. The dirt pathway through the forest slows us down considerably. Four-wheel drive would have been a much better choice.
Once we see the little structure come into view, we fall back to a crawl.
“Tempest, Vet, head around the back, canvas it, then catch up,” my father instructs.
Like nothing has changed, they immediately do as he says.
We roll up to the light grey front deck where a muddy Ford pickup is parked off to the side. All four bikes completely surround the wooden structure.
The environment is so peaceful, so quiet. A true picture of nature, with the smell of pine potent in the air, and the sound of birds chirping in the trees.
“This just seems too easy,” Hawk shares his concerns as we all dismount our bikes.
“My thoughts exactly.” My dad surveys the woods.
“Let’s just get this over with.” I pull the gun from the back of my waistband. “Deacon! Show your fucking face! Let’s see how tough you are now!”
Nothing. No response, not even a peep.
“He’s inside,” Bone rumbles, staring straight through the glass front door. I look harder, and sure enough, there he is, sitting right in front of us in a chair.
“This is some whacked-out shit. Anyone else think this is whacked-out shit?” Breaker asks.
“Deacon always was a little odd.” My Pops steps up onto the deck, and we all follow.
Our guard raised for anything, he slowly opens the door.
“Don’t be such a fucking pussy, Gambit. Walk the fuck in,” Deacon snaps.
My father steps inside first, and my heart palpitates. I’m suddenly feeling as protective over him as I do over Kira.
“Been a long time, old man,” Deacon address my father as all five of us invade the small living room. He doesn’t move a muscle in his chair, a 9mm resting on his knee.
“You ain’t kiddin’. You look like shit.”
“Cancer will do that to you.” He breaks out into a long fit of dry coughs.
Time feels like it’s in fast forward. I need to know where Kira is, and I need to know right now.
“Sorry to hear about the diagnosis, but where the fuck is Kira?” I point my gun right at him.
“I wouldn’t be so rash. Shoot me, and you’ll never find her.”
“What is this all about, Deacon? Revenge? Are you just so petty and miserable, you need to get back at me?”
“You took everything from me, Gerard. I just wanted to return the favor. One last, friendly gesture.”
“Friendly gesture, huh? Stalking, stealing, and kidnapping is not usually how I treat my friends. Ky asked you once, I’ll ask you a second time. There won’t be a third chance. Where the fuck is my stepdaughter?”
Deacon smiles perversely. “She’s gone.”
Something in my stomach twists in nauseating knots from his response.
“Search the place,” I order, and Hawk, Fender, and Breaker tear through the house as Bone, my father, and I keep Deacon company.
“Look all you like; she isn’t here.” He clears his phlegmy throat.
“Then where the fuck is she?” I tighten my grip on the gun pointed right at Deacon’s head.
“I told you, gone. Gerard, your son has to have his hearing checked.”
My rage is rising faster than high tide. He’s wasting our time. I take two threatening steps toward him, and he holds the barrel up under his jaw. “One more step, and I pull the trigger.”
We are all left flabbergasted. “Like I said, kill me, and you’ll never find out where your little mermaid is.”
What kind of sick joke is he playing?
I start to breathe harder, my body searching for an outlet for the bui
lding stress.
“Nothing,” Breaker reports back. “She isn’t in the house. We looked everywhere, even pulled up squeaky floor boards.”
“A basement? Storm cellar?” I demand.
“No,” he sounds confident.
Fuck.
“What do you want, Deacon? What will fix this?” my father appeals to him.
“Seeing you suffer will be the only thing that fixes anything. And like I told Kira, she was a plot twist I didn’t see coming. I was just going to kill your wife, but your stepdaughter? So much sweeter. Her death causes a domino effect. You, your wife, your son. Everyone hurts. One continuous, vicious cycle.”
“Death.” I lunge at Deacon but am restrained by Bone and Breaker. “You tell me where the fuck she is, old man, or I will beat you within an inch of your pathetic life and dangle you there.”
“No place I haven’t been before, kid.” He squeezes the trigger, and a shot of adrenaline has me speeding toward him like a bullet from a Semi. I knock him off the chair, and we wrestle on the floor. We grapple around for the gun, both grabbing it at the same time. Several shots pop off, and blood suddenly pools beneath our bodies. It all happened so fast, my mind is having difficulty catching up to my body. I’m ripped off the floor and hauled to my feet by Bone and Breaker.
“Ky, you’re shot.” Hawk lunges toward me, pressing his bare hands to the wound.
“So is Deacon.” Fender inspects his injury, feeling for a pulse. I see him shake his head.
My father falls to his knees. “John,” he calls him by his God-given name. “Where is Kira? Where the fuck is she?” He shakes him violently, but there’s nothing, no response. He’s dead.
“No, no, no,” I slip into denial. “That can’t be it. We didn’t find her.”
My father looks up at me with a gallon of tears in his blue eyes. My father, the strongest man I know. Crying.
“Slash, we gotta get you to a hospital, man, before you’re the next one to meet the Reaper.” Hawk begins to push me to the door.
“I’m not going anywhere. We have to find her!” Woozy on my feet, I fight to stand on my own.
“She’s gone.” Hawk puts his hands on my shoulders and looks me square in the eyes.
“No,” I break down. My legs turning to jelly.