by Lexy Timms
Why couldn’t she?
She loved him that was why. She’d never been able to move on, not since high school and definitely not now. She hugged her stomach. In her mind she cradled in her arms the reminder of how much she loved Luke. If this child was all she could have of Luke, then that would have to be enough. She knew then that giving this child up was not an option. She was keeping him… or her.
Maybe one day she’d find a way to move on.
But not until after she confronted the bastard who broke her heart.
As she drove from the Red Bull to Luke’s shop, she grew more nervous. She’d been to two places already looking for him and came up empty. Now that she knew she was actually going to face him, the tension was giving her a headache and making her anxious.
Her stomach rumbled, and she started to feel sick because she hadn’t eaten. Reluctantly, she pulled over to a fast food restaurant and went through the drive-thru for a burger and a soda. Parking in the parking lot she took a bite of her burger and immediately lost her appetite.
“What’s wrong, kid,” she said, patting her stomach, “don’t like hamburgers?”
Her mother had told her and her sister how when she was pregnant what she wanted to eat was different for each child. With Emily she craved fatty foods but with Angela all she wanted was salads.
“Well, you’ll have to put up with it. I don’t have time or money to get something else. That’s something you’ll have to get used to, kid. We’ll never be a rich family."
Emily’s stomach settled as the first sips of her Coke and bites of her burger went down. Gradually she felt better. She could see she’d have to be more careful in her diet from now on. She hadn’t seen Luke in three months so she had to be almost through her first trimester. She was going to need to see a doctor and get an OB. She’d have to figure everything out. She could do it on her own, she’d be fine.
Feeling stronger and better than she had in a long time, she started the car.
The last few miles to Luke’s shop seemed to take forever. She turned on the radio and the song playing reminded her of her relationship with Luke. The words spoke of a love confused by a lack of communication. It pleaded for the other person to say something so the singer didn’t have to guess what was going on. It struck Emily that she was guilty of this. She failed all her life to say or do what she really wanted.
Emily knew instinctively why she’d done this. If she tried to say what she felt, or what she wanted, she got shut down immediately by her parents. Maybe it was, as her mom said, a misguided effort to protect her. But it was wrong, an injustice she felt from her earliest years. What were they afraid of? That she’d turn out like a father she never knew?
She sighed. She was going to stop blaming others and start moving forward on her own.
She wouldn’t let what happened to her happen to her child. She’d love everything about him or her, good and bad. She’d love the child enough for two parents, if she had to.
She spied the sign for Luke’s shop and turned into the parking lot. Looking around, she saw some people walking toward the back of the building. Emily parked her car and followed them.
People seemed gathered to the left of the building. Long-haired bikers with beards in leather cuts and jackets leaned against a Quonset hut with paper plates of food in hand. Women sat at picnic tables set to the left. Emily looked around but did not see Luke.
She didn’t see Saks either, which she thought was strange. Finally, she noticed a man who was with Luke at Gibs’ funeral. He tended the fire pit, cutting off pieces from the pig spit-roasted there. Emily grabbed a paper plate and waited in line until she got to the pit.
He looked at her with surprise. “Emily? What’re you doing here?”
“I’m looking for Luke.”
“He’s not here.”
“But I was told—"
The man took the plate from her hand roughly and leaned toward her.
“You NEED to leave.”
“Why?”
“Because Luke doesn’t want you here,” the man hissed. “Now leave, before I make you.”
“I need to speak to Luke,” said Emily angrily. “I’m not leaving—”
“What’s going on here?” asked a rough voice behind her. He stepped around so Emily could see him.
“An uninvited guest, Aces.”
The large man’s eyes traveled over her body licentiously. She didn’t like the looks of him with his scraggily hair and beard. The patches on his leather vest looked nasty too.
“I don’t know, Pepper. She looks pretty inviting to me.”
“I think I’ll leave now,” Emily said, feeling a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. She understood what Pepper was trying to warn her about a moment earlier. Aces was trouble. A bigger, badder version of Evan.
“Don’t go. I’d like to get to know you better.”
“Aces,” said Pepper in a desperate voice, “Luke won’t like it. He used to go with her.”
“Well, the operative words are ‘used to’ aren’t they, Pepper?”
“Listen,” said Emily, hating the fear trembling inside of her. “I just need to talk to Luke. I’ll come by the shop later.” She tried to move past Aces.
He grabbed her arm roughly. “I say, you’re staying.”
She wrenched her arm out of his grasp just as the sound of Harleys rumbled into the parking lot. Everyone turned to the sound. Ten Hispanic men and bikes streamed through the gate.
“Fuck!” called Aces. “Rojos! Everyone, get into the clubhouse.”
Pepper grabbed Emily’s hand and ran with her to the clubhouse. He pulled a chair out for her to sit on. The room was dark, lit only by blue neon spots that washed the curved walls. More light came from the bar, lit overhead by a row of modern black track lights that shown into the mirrored wall. Glass shelves where hung across the front of the mirror that held various bottles of liquor. Further into the room were three pool tables and a huge painting of the Hades’ Spawn club patch. Only, it was different from what Emily saw before.
Pepper looked out the door. Two other men crowded next to him with guns in their hands.
“What’s going on, Pepper?”
“Aces is talking to them.”
“Fuck you!” called Aces and the men on bikes drew their guns. He turned and ran into the building, breathing hard. “Shut the fucking door!”
“What’s going on, Aces?” said Pepper.
“Fucking Rojos! That’s Waterbury and Westfield out there. They’ve got Saks, and they say they’ll kill him if we don’t back off.”
“Fuck them!” said one of the other men. "What do we care? He left the club."
“My sentiments, Dagger,” said the other guy holding a gun. “But we can’t let them disrespect the club, and right now that's what they are doing.”
“We won’t,” said Aces grimly. “Ladies, get to the back of the club behind the pool tables, and whatever you do, keep your heads down. You, you, you, and you,” Aces said, pointing to some other bikers as the women moved to the back of the clubhouse. “Go out the back, circle around and cover the flanks. Dagger and Flint,” he said, pointing to two others, get to the roof and give us some cover. We’re going to give these fuckers a lesson they’ll never forget.”
Aces stopped and looked at Emily. “What are you waiting for, sweetheart? Bullets are going to start flying any minute. You don’t want to be in the fucking line of fire. Get your pretty ass over by the pool tables!”
Emily winced as he spoke to her. She knew she was in shock. It felt like being rocketed back to Gibs’ house only months before. She couldn’t move.
Pepper ran over and pulled her to her feet, pushing her toward the other women. “Keep your head down, Emily. This isn’t a joke.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Rescue
As their bikes rumbled down the highway, four more bikers from Pez’s club joined them. Luke could only assume they came at Pez’s call, maybe from the one that w
as made before they left the Red Bull.
Luke signaled with his hand the right-hand turn at a rest stop off the highway. He traveled down the winding service road to the rest stop. There were only a couple cars so Luke let his bike idle.
“What are we doing here, pendejo?” asked Pez over the roar of his engine.
“The Westfield club’s land starts just over that hill.” Luke pointed at a section of trees to the left. “I thought it would be a good idea to have a couple people come up from behind.”
Pez nodded his head.
“Good idea. So what do we do?”
“Just follow that trail, but be careful. They use it themselves for the bathrooms in the rest area.”
“Wow!” Pez said sarcastically. “They’re living like rich bitches here, aren’t they?”
“You put twenty guys in a trailer and you’d be more than happy to take a walk.”
“I suppose, ese. Okay, Jorge, Speed, Chigger, go onto the back part and draw up close to the trailer.”
Luke shook his head, wary of what they were about to do but knowing they had no choice but to work together. “They’ll have their bikes at the back of the trailer at the base of the hill. The trailer is on the top of the hill so they have good eyeballs all around the place. Keep an eye for lookouts.”
“We ain’t idiots, blanco,” snapped one of the Rojos.
“Shut your trap, Jorge,” warned Pez. “He didn’t have to come here. It ain’t his business, except the guy they have is his friend. Keep ears on this one.”
Jorge grumbled, but he and the others parked their bikes.
“Tig,” said Pez to the last Rojos, “watch the damn bikes.”
“No, Pez, I’ll—”
“Do what you’re damn told, cabron. You ain’t a patched member yet. You stay here, keep your head down and make sure no one messes with the bikes.”
Tig crossed his arms, then finally sighed and nodded his head.
“Okay,” said Luke. “I’ll go up the main entrance and keep them distracted.”
“You ain’t going alone,” said Pez, revving his engine. “I’ve got my orders.”
“I can’t stop you.” Luke bent back and opened his saddle bag. He pulled out his leather cut that Aces gave to him with the new patches at the beginning of the summer, and slipped it on.
“You looking for trouble?” said Pez, staring at it.
“Nope, trouble found me. I might as well look the part.” He tied back a black bandana on his head, and put on his sunglasses. “Let’s go. Clock’s ticking.”
“Yeah. I got that, man. Otherwise, the war of the century will start without us.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
Luke charged up the washed out gravel drive leading to the local Rojos clubhouse. He didn’t try to hide his entrance onto Rojos land because that would be useless. With the way they sent out the picture of Saks, they’d be expecting someone to show up.
They just didn’t expect it to be him.
Luke stopped a hundred yards from the clubhouse. It seemed curiously deserted. Unlike the last time, no one stirred at the window. The front door hung open carelessly.
Pez drove up next to him and they both stared at the ramshackle trailer.
“No one looks to be home,” said Luke. “Did someone lie to you, Pez?”
“Not me, pendejo. That would rain a world of hurt on them.” He cleared his throat and then shouted, “Hey! Cabrons. Get your sorry asses out of that trailer.”
Awkward seconds passed and nothing happened.
Luke put down his kickstand.
“What do you think you’re doing, pendejo?” growled Pez. “Stay on that bike!” Pez drew out a handgun from his back and shot into the sky. The sound cracked through the sweltering early evening air. Crows flew, squawking from the tree line on either side of the wide swath of grassy land where the trailer squatted. “Hey! Assholes. Get out here now. This is direct from Lil’ Ricki!”
Luke gave a quick glance to Pez. He had guessed Pez was a representative of someone in state leadership, but he hadn’t suspected the incarcerated head of the Rojos.
The door swung open and the hang around who had knifed Luke came out looking terrified.
Pez stared hard at the young twenty-something. “Whatchyer name?”
“Ocho.”
“Well, Ocho, where’s your membership?”
The young man swallowed hard and glanced at Luke. “They went to crash the Spawn party.”
“What!” Pez spit a steady stream of obscenities.
“Where’s my brother?” Luke set his kickstand down and swung off the bike, making sure the bike wouldn’t sink into the ground before he let go of it.
“In the trailer.”
“Better be,” warned Pez.
But before Luke could get two paces, a shot fired, landing in front of his feet. Dirt and gravel sprayed upward.
Luke instinctually hit the dirt and Pez jumped off his bike seeking cover behind Luke’s. Pez shot off several rounds toward his left where the shots seemed to come from.
The front door of the trailer flew open and a white-haired old man stood there with a gun to Saks’ head. Bloodied and bruised, Saks looked like crap as the older man gripped his neck.
Pez stood and leveled his gun at the old man.
“Sarmanbiche Wizard,” he spat. “We knew you were behind this shit.”
Luke shook his head. What the hell was going on? He huffed. He’d had enough of this shit. “If he is,” hissed Luke, “he’s a police informant.”
“How do you know?”
“My man Gibs was arrested on an anonymous tip just after he picked up a package from Wizard.”
“You can’t believe that shit,” yelled Wizard, pressing the gun closer to Saks’ temple.
“I don’t know, pendejo. I think it takes one to know one.”
Wizard’s eyes moved wildly back and forth.
“Let the blanco go, Wizard.” Pez kept his voice low, but the warning was clear.
Wizard jerked Saks’ head hard, pushing the gun behind his ear. “These assholes are responsible for my son’s death.”
“Now, that’s on you, ese, sending boys to do a man’s job. Don’t think that Lil’ Ricki doesn’t know you are the cabron who sent those boys to take a hit out on Spade here. Something he’s forbidden. Now you’ve kidnapped a member of a Wiseguy family for what?” Pez stood, his arms folded over his chest. He wasn’t scared of Wizard.
“I didn’t know nothing about this guy’s family. He’s a Spawn and the Spawn are messing in our business.”
“Estupido! Only because you let them.”
“You can’t prove anything!”
“So what? This ain’t no fucking law court.”
Another gunshot split the air, this time hitting Luke’s Sportster.
“What the fuck? Hey!” shouted Luke.
More gunfire crackled, this time coming from behind the trailer and a man fell from a position on a tree limb.
“Who the fuck was that?” yelled Wizard, his gun pressed into Saks’ neck. The click of the safety clearing echoed across the drive.
“Rojos' justice. Give it up now, Wizard,” said Pez, walking toward the trailer. “You’re outnumbered and outgunned. You ain’t living through this if that man in your hand dies.”
Wizard jerked his head around, first toward Luke, then to the back of the trailer. With a rough shove he tossed Saks through the door to the ground. Saks landed with a thud and moaned as Luke rushed forward. Wizard disappeared into the depths of the trailer.
Luke pulled Saks away from the door but stayed flush with the trailer, using what he could as cover.
“You! Estupido, in the trees. Toss down your gun and get over here. Now!”
A man dropped a weapon and then hit the grass, but instead of making toward Pez, he tore off into the thick tree line. One of Pez’s men disappeared after him.
A scuffle literally rocked the trailer and then Wizard was tossed out the
front door and landed at Pez’s feet. Jorge and Speed jumped out of the trailer and hauled the man to his feet.
“What do we do with him, boss?” said Jorge.
“Tie him to that fucking chair he put the blanco on. His presidente will be here soon to deal with him.”
Wizard started struggling.
“No man, you can’t—”
“Estupido,” hissed Pez. “You think the Rojos and the Hombres don’t think the same on this? We’re brothers, something you’ve forgotten.”
Pez turned his back on Wizard.
“Gag him when you tie him up. No need to listen to him beg like the pendejo he is until his leadership shows. And when they do, find me. You don’t need to be part of that shit.”
“Si, homes,” they said at the same time.
Pez squatted next to Luke and Saks. “Can he ride?”
Saks opened a swollen eye. “Hell, I can always ride.”
“Let’s go then. Your familia is waiting on you.”
“Oh, fuck,” muttered Saks.
Luke helped Saks to his bike and after he swung on, he helped his buddy on the back. He worried Saks would fall off as they rode, but Saks clung to him as they raced toward the Red Bull. When they arrived there were few bikes and, strangely, a lot of cars in the parking lot.
As he slipped off Luke’s bike, Saks took a moment to steady himself. He stared at the line of cars. “Why the fuck did you involve them, Luke?”
“I didn’t. Your cousins did.”
Saks groaned. “I’ll never hear the fucking end of this.”
“Whatcha complaining about, blanco?” said Pez cheerily. “We saved your ass, didn’t we?”
“You don’t want to know what stirring this hornet’s nest is like. There’ll be fighting for weeks about what we’re going to do about those Spics.” Saks touched the swelling around his eye gingerly.