Burn

by Jc Emery

  “You already got my phone, man,” Fish says and scrubs a hand over his face.

  “Then you got another one. Get it out, motherfucker,” Torque orders. Jim appears in the doorway and demands they get a move on already. Looking defeated, Fish pulls something small and black from his pocket and tosses it in the box, then waits until Torque has scanned him with the wand and lets him into the room. Torque closes the door behind him, shutting me and Jeremy off from the chapel.

  “For once, I’d rather be out here than in there,” Jeremy says and drops the box on the table beside me.

  “I’m guessing those two don’t get along.”

  Jeremy nods in response and sorts the contents of the box. He’s concentrating awfully hard on his task. Last fall, right before that night, I stayed with Duke and Nic and Jeremy at their house. Jeremy didn’t say much at first, but once he opened up to me, I couldn’t get him to stop talking. We bonded over our shared prison sentences. He’d been a lifer, looking forward to parole when he turned eighteen, and I was the new arrival he’d schooled on how to get by without too much bitching from Warden Duke. Much to Jeremy’s dismay, I never did get have to suffer the warden’s wrath.

  “How’s parole?” I ask.

  He snorts and shakes his head. “Wouldn’t know.”

  “Adulthood not what it’s cracked up to be?”

  “You know prospects don’t actually get paid? I put in enough fucking time with this club, and I’m lucky if the warden spots me a fiver for a fucking sandwich every now and then.” Jeremy’s navy-blue eyes narrow. He’s such a handsome kid, so tall, and with a huge heart. He’s still just a teenager, though, and has some more maturing to do.

  “Worth it,” I say casually. He just stares at me like I’m speaking a foreign language. “You can bitch all you want, but we both know this is where you belong. Forsaken’s your family, and if Duke is tight about sharing the wealth, then it’s for your benefit.”

  One thing I know for certain about Duke from my short time living with him is this—he’s as generous as can be. As long as Duke’s around, Nic won’t want for anything.

  “You sound like somebody’s mother,” he grumbles, staring at the gun in his hand like he’s trying to figure something out. Finally, he places it next to another gun and a phone. I bite back the pang of sorrow his comment creates. “Not that I’d know what that sounds like.”

  “Of course you know what a mother sounds like. Nic’s been trying to mother your stubborn ass for years, not that you’ve made it easy on her.”

  “Figured she’d miss a pill and get knocked up at some point. Had to make sure she knew what she was doing—for Robin’s sake, ya know.”

  “Totally,” I say and nod my head, smiling. I get to babysit Robin about once a week or so now. Sometimes it’s just for an hour, and other times it’s longer. Jeremy puts in his fair share of time with her, too, which I know he enjoys, though he’ll never admit it.

  Ruby walks up and places her hands on her hips and looks at Jeremy’s seemingly random arrangement of weapons and mobile phones laid out over three of the smaller tables. She shakes her head and laughs.

  “Jim’s really putting you through the ringer, huh, kid?”

  “Pres thinks this will help me learn to pay better attention,” Jeremy says. Ruby places a hand on his shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

  “You’ve done good.”

  Jeremy’s eyes volley between Ruby and his arrangement before his eyes widen and he gapes at her for a long moment. A smirk graces his handsome features. He gathers up the items and places them back in the box, checking the guns to make sure the safety is on each one, and shakes it. Ruby takes it from him, sets it on the table, and quickly takes out and arranges everything very similar to how Jeremy had done just a few minutes ago.

  “A good old lady makes her old man’s business her business. It’s not her place to stick her nose in. It’s her job to keep his shit running, and that means knowing his brothers and their club.”

  “Take notes, Bean.” Jeremy whistles and elbows me in my side. I tense up but try to shake it off. Ruby’s eyes roll dramatically at his comment, but I ignore it. I don’t think she likes me much, but I don’t have the energy to deal with that right now and busy myself with wiping down the empty table tops.

  One of the mobiles Jeremy arranged on the tables chirps, but I ignore it. Then it rings, and rings again, before Jeremy’s bothered with checking out the phone and inspecting it. It chirps in his hands. He shakes his head and sets it back on the table just as it starts ringing again.

  “What the hell? Ian’s phone never rings,” he says and silences it.

  “Oh crap. Gimme that!” I drop the rag I’m cleaning with and snatch the phone from his hands. I can’t believe I almost forgot the dog breeder was supposed to call. I press the green answer button and hold the phone to my ear. I’m about to say hello when a rough, Italian-accented voice sounds in my ear.

  “You ever answer your phone? We got Jennings. Just waiting on your signal to get him out safely.” The man on the other end sounds out of breath. His words don’t make sense, but they send a chill down my spine anyhow. I lose my breath and pull the phone away from my ear and end the call. That wasn’t the dog breeder.

  “Bean?” Jeremy sounds worried, but I can’t be bothered by it. I stare down at the phone in my hand and try to make sense of what just happened. My hands shake, and I can feel myself paling.

  “Um, Jer? Is there a Jennings aside from the Jennings?”

  I hate that name. So much of the last year has been spent hearing the name Jennings, and it’s never good. As far as the town knows, Darren Jennings was a victim of a vicious attack that may or may not have been in response to his father’s supposed gambling problem. His parents disappeared some months back, which has only strengthened the gambling rumors. According to the town’s rumor mill, on top of everything Darren’s suffered, he’s also developed a drug problem, even going so far as to having drugs smuggled into the hospital. He overdosed last month and landed himself in the psych ward. Mom says it was such a shame since he’d been about to be released after nearly a year recovering from his injuries and subsequent coma.

  The truth about Darren Jennings is far darker and more disturbing than anything the newspaper will ever print. I’ve known him for years now, though not well. His parents are members of the same church as my parents, but that’s not why his name makes my skin crawl. Darren Jennings is the reason Nic has those star tattoos on her body—one for each time he raped and beat her. He’s also the reason . . .

  “Why are you bringing that fucker up?” Jeremy asks in a gruff tone.

  I didn’t even realize that Ruby walked away some time ago until her boots clack against the concrete floor and she comes to stand beside me. She places a hand on my back and leans in, speaking quietly. “You okay?”

  I try to answer them both. No, I’m not okay. I can’t . . .

  Panic swells in my chest, unsettling my stomach and forcing the breath from my lungs. There’s got to be a good reason for Ian getting a call like this. No way in hell Ian would take part in anything that would keep Darren Jennings safe. Not ever. The phone rings in my hand, startling me. I answer it immediately but don’t say anything when I bring it to my ear.

  “Banks? We need to move. Are we clear or not?”

  I end the call and force myself to work through the panic. Banks? Who the hell is Banks? I use my free hand to pat down my pockets and find what I thought I might—Ian’s phone. Pulling it out, I stare at Ian’s phone in one hand and its twin in the other. Ruby and Jeremy are practically on top of me now, both staring at me with faces full of worry.

  “This isn’t Ian’s phone.” I hand Ian’s real mobile over to Ruby and try to poke through the mystery phone that Jeremy mistook for Ian’s. It has a password lock on it, so I can’t get in, but there are several text message notifications showing on the lock screen. They all come from the same phone number with a four-one-five area code.
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  “Everybody else’s phones are accounted for,” Ruby says. Her attention is fixed on the tables full of guns, knives, and cell phones.

  “Who is Banks?” I ask.

  Ruby’s eyes dart to mine, her mouth parts, and she stares at me blankly. The memory comes to me slowly but surely when I think back to the scene at the end of the hall as Fish and Torque argued about Torque’s trying to check Fish for another phone.

  “Solomon Banks. That’s the only Banks I know,” Ruby says and then clarifies. “Fish.”

  “The second phone,” Jeremy says with his eyes narrowed.

  “That was a man calling Fish’s phone to tell him he’s got Jennings but needs Fish to signal him to get him out safely. When he called back, he used the name Banks and said he has to move and needs Fish to give the all clear.”

  “The rat is Fish,” Jeremy says to Ruby. “He’s working with some asshole to get Jennings to safety?”

  Darren Jennings is the reason I was raped. I put two and two together well before Holly ever told me anything. Darren raped Nic years ago, then tried to do it again when she was pregnant with Robin. The club took care of Darren, and then randomly, some months later, I’m raped by two men who keep calling me Nic. I wasn’t even out of the hospital yet when Darren’s parents disappeared from town. I thought I might be paranoid at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it just fit.

  “Looks like it,” Ruby says. Her face is hard with anger, but she seems to be keeping herself in check. “After Church, before anybody heads out, I’ll talk to Jim.”

  I don’t want to speak up, and especially don’t want to argue with her, but that seems like an awful idea. Whoever Fish is working with is waiting on his response. They won’t be waiting forever, and if we don’t do something now, they might get away. I have to do something.

  “What if they get away because we’re waiting?”

  “Bean’s got a point, Aunt Ruby,” Jeremy says softly. “I’m sure Pres will understand the interruption.”

  “Fuck,” she says and grabs one of Ryan’s guns from the table. I only know it’s his because his is the pile with the most weapons and that damn firework he threatened to shove up Jeremy’s backside. Ruby shoves the gun into the waistband at the back of her jeans and stomps off down the hallway toward the chapel. I stare after her in panic, terrified of what’s about to happen.

  Chapter 21

  “It’s been too long. Where is he?”

  More than half the club returned some time ago. They were escorting two men with dark hair who were wearing suits and disappeared into the chapel immediately after they walked in. Only Jim came out for a minute, completely ignoring Fish, who’s gagged and bound to the chair in front of me, as he took a moment to talk with Ruby. I don’t know what they said, but she nodded her head solemnly, and that was that. He went back into the chapel, slamming the door behind him, and hasn’t come out since. I’m calming down little by little, getting better at keeping the panic at bay than I was when Ian first left with his brothers. Ruby tried to pull me away from my seat, but I need this. I have to keep my eye on the traitorous fuck in front of me, or I’m going to go nuts. I just want to know that Ian’s safe, and every passing minute that I don’t know how he’s doing just makes the knot in my stomach larger.

  Jeremy passes by in a rush. He’s got an angry scowl on his face and a gas can in one hand with a large canvas tarp in the other. I hop up from my chair quickly and chase after him. It’s the first time I’ve really moved since Jeremy and Rink shoved Fish in that chair and bound him to the damn thing. I kind of appointed myself his babysitter, but if I stare at his disgusting face any longer, I’m going to start kicking him just for the heck of it.

  “Have you heard from Ian?”

  Jeremy doesn’t slow down. He just strides right out of the clubhouse and to an open white van where he drops the gas can and tarp in the back.

  “No. He’s busy, though. Once he’s taken care of shit, he’ll be back here and you’ll be able to chill out.” There’s a slight edge to his voice, warning me not to push it too much.

  “I just want to know that he’s okay. Is that too much to ask?” I throw my arms up in the air, exasperated by the entire situation.

  Jeremy ignores my pleas and stomps back into the clubhouse just as Ruby’s walking out. She rolls her flannel sleeves up to her elbows and stares at me as she obviously thinks something over.

  “I don’t know if I like you,” she says and places her hands on her hips. A few hours ago and I’d likely shrink in embarrassment and frustration over her comment. But now I’m at the end of my rope.

  “Right,” I say in frustration and nod my head. There are several things I could say to her, but none of them are helpful. Still, I find it too difficult to keep my thoughts entirely to myself. “You can hate me all you want, but don’t expect me to argue. I don’t have the energy for it.”

  “Never said I hated you. Said I don’t know if I like you.”

  “Same difference.” I cross my arms over my chest and wait for her to explain herself.

  “You’re strong, beautiful. You’re pretty fucked-up, too.”

  I throw my head back in laughter, unable to contain the toxicity of her statement from spreading through me.

  “Now that’s an understatement. Is that your issue? That I’m damaged?”

  “God, no. We’re all fucked-up,” she says and purses her lips. Ruby’s an intimidating woman, and it’s not her size or the way she carries herself. She’s not much taller than me, and even though she walks with an easy confidence, what really intimidates me about her is how much the people around her love and respect her. The kind of respect she has from the club and extended family is a reflection of who she is. It doesn’t help my anxiety that she’s Ian’s mother. I may not get along with my mom, but I know that’s not the case with Ruby and her children. I know enough to know that her opinion matters to Ian. I’m up against enough without her hating me to boot.

  “I’m his mother. I love him fiercely, and I’m having trouble sharing him.”

  “There’s a lot to love,” I say.

  She nods her head and walks away. Ruby’s a tough nut to crack, that’s for sure. Maybe my honesty will win me some points with her. If she loves him as fiercely as she says she does, she has to be able to see my motives for what they are—pure.

  Jeremy walks back outside with Grady on his heels. Grady’s got a cell phone to his ear. I’m not left to question who he’s talking to when he says, “Love you, babe. Keep yourself home. No, I’m headed to—” He cuts himself off when we make eye contact while he closes the back of the van up. Holly must finish his thought, because he agrees into the phone and then shoves the thing in his pocket and climbs into the passenger side of the van. Jeremy starts her up and they peel out. From what I can tell, Ian, Duke, and Ryan are with Darren and his family. And it seems Grady and Jeremy are on their way there, too.

  Nobody is being particularly open and helpful with information around me, and they’re acting shady as hell, which tells me that something is going down that Ian doesn’t want me to know about. He must have given the orders when he was with everybody earlier, because I still have his phone. When the brothers poured out of the chapel after the “come to Jesus” interrogation on Fish, they headed to the tables and grabbed for their weapons and phones before rushing off on their bikes. I didn’t even get a good idea of what was going on then. Ian had Jeremy hole me up in Ian’s bedroom, so I was forced to wait in there until they’d had Fish bound and gagged. By the time we emerged, Ian was gone.

  “Ian?” Holly shouts into her phone as she answers my call. I shake off her confusion and get to explaining myself quickly, hoping she can see reason.

  “Nope, it’s Minds. I have Ian’s phone.”

  “Oh,” she says and waits a beat. “What’s up?”

  “I know you know where Ian is. I need you to tell me.”

  “Mindy,” she says carefully. Holly has this way about her
, where she gives everything away even if she doesn’t know it. She always sounds like this when she’s trying to hide something from me. She blows out a breath on the other end of the line. “Let him take care of this.”

  “I don’t want to stop him,” I say. “I just need to know that he’s okay. Sitting here waiting is killing me.”

  “Honey, you have to let them deal with this stuff in their own way. You don’t want to see how they do it.” Holly keeps telling me what I don’t want to see or remember, like the cross she bears is so much worse than mine.

  “Real talk. Do you regret what you did?” We don’t talk about this. It’s painful enough for both of us to have experienced it once, let alone choosing to relive it together. But I need to get through to her now, even if it means admitting a truth I’d rather deny.

  “Not for a single second,” she says. Her voice edges on defeat as she comes to realize she won’t win this argument. She’s going to tell me where they’re at—it’s only a matter of time now.

  “You were protecting the man you love, you were protecting me. I don’t know if I ever thanked you for that.”

  “I don’t need to be thanked,” she says, taking on one last defense before she cracks. I know her too well to think she won’t give in soon.

  “I know,” I say. My thanking Holly for killing my rapist is uncomfortable for her, like it’s a gift she’s given me but doesn’t like to be reminded of. “Do you wish you hadn’t done it?”

  “No. Somebody had to.”

  “Doing it yourself was kind of therapeutic, huh?”

  “I really shouldn’t tell you where he is, Minds,” she says carefully.

  “I’d tell you,” I say. She knows I would. I’d want to protect her as much as I could, but I’d still respect her need to see the man who hired her rapists pay with her own eyes.

  “I wish you didn’t need this, but I get it. Grady told me about that stunt with Leo, ya know. He had trouble wrapping his head around why you did it, but I know why. Sometimes violence is the answer, and sometimes the only way to feel in control is to dole out the punishment yourself.”