Defying Destiny (Forsaken Sinners MC #3)

by Shelly Morgan

  Still a little flustered, I just stare at my plate. I feel like I should say something, anything, after what he just said, but I have no idea what. I have a billion things rolling around in my head but none of them seem to add up to how I feel.

  “It ain’t going to eat itself. Dig in,” he says, then he follows his own advice.

  Deciding that my words can wait for another day when I don’t feel so raw, I shake my head and do just as he says.

  My steak is cooked perfectly. I practically inhale everything on my plate. It’s not often I get a meal like this and I feel like if I don’t finish it fast, it could all get taken away. I’ve felt that way about a lot of things in my life—that they are too good to be true and it will never last. Most of the time, I’m right. But not this time.

  I finish my meal before my dad, but he’s close behind me.

  “Damn, that was good. How was your steak, son?”

  Leaning back in my seat, I pat my stomach. “Fucking delicious.”

  We are both quiet while we digest the good food and wait for the check. I start to think about what I should do tonight. I know there are parties going on because there are parties every Friday night, but I don’t think I could stand being around anyone who frequents those parties. Even with the knowledge that I’ll be leaving this place behind soon and that my life is finally starting to look up for the first time in forever, I won’t risk it. Knowing the fuckers that will be there, someone will say something to piss me off and I won’t be able to stop myself from beating the fuckers down. Yeah, I think I’ll just have dad pick me up a six pack and go find a spot to be alone and start planning for the future.

  “You ready to get out of here?” he asks as he stands up.

  “Yup.”

  My dad slaps me on the shoulder as we walk outside but he doesn’t say anything. Though, he doesn’t need to. This is the happiest I think I’ve ever seen him. And it’s not just because he won the money, though that might be a part of it, but it’s because he’ll be able to give me the life he has always wanted to give me. Little does he know, whether he won that money or not, I’d still be happy. Things would be harder for us, sure, but as long as he was with me and we were living our dreams, it doesn’t matter how long it would take us to get there as long as we get there eventually…or at least do our best trying. Enjoying the ride, that sort of thing.

  “Pull into the gas station. I gotta grab a few things, then you can drop me off down the street.” I don’t answer and just watch him while he walks into the store. I see him grab something out of the beer cooler and then walk to the other side of the store where they have the grocery items, pharmacy stuff, and other little odds and ends. Then he makes his way up to the front to pay for everything.

  As he walks outside, I see him holding a twelve pack of Bud Light and him stuffing something into his back pocket.

  “All right, now remember what I said. I give this to you and you better not drive anywhere or do anything stupid, ya hear?” he says as he gets into the truck.

  “Yeah, old man, I hear ya.” I laugh and pull out of the parking lot.

  When I park across the street from the local watering hole, he pauses before opening the door and looks back at me. “I love you, Holden.” He doesn’t wait for me to say anything back before he’s out of the truck and walking into the bar.

  I have no idea what’s making him say all the things he’s said tonight and there is a part of me that is a little boy again, jumping for joy at the approval from his father. Then there’s the embarrassed teenage boy who can’t find the right words to say back.

  I sit in my truck for a few minutes and just think back on everything he’s said tonight. I always knew deep down that my dad loves me and is proud of me, but hearing him say it tonight makes me want to be better—for him. He doesn’t deserve a sulking boy who gets pissed off at the littlest things. Starting tonight, I’m going to be different. I’m going to be the man he’s always taught me to be. From now on, if someone does something that pisses me off, I’m going to turn the other cheek and think about all the things me and my dad are going to do when we leave this place behind.

  Putting the truck in drive, I head toward home to drop my truck off. Then I’ll have a couple beers out by the quarry before going to bed. Tomorrow I want to tell my dad all the things I’m sorry for and how I’m going to be better. Then we can talk about the things he wants to do when we leave after graduation. I now understand that it’s not all about me. It’s more than just needing my dad with me on my journey, but wanting to go on a journey with him—together. We’ll do things that we both have always wanted to do, but couldn’t.

  ***

  I wake up to the sun heating my face and my back aching. Cracking one eyelid open, I’m blinded by the sun. Closing my eye again, I try to remember where I am and why I’m outside but the last thing I remember was sitting down at the rock quarry and drinking. I must have drank more than I thought and passed out. Shit.

  Sitting up slowly, I stretch and open my eyes. It hurts like a motherfucker, but it’s manageable now that I know what to expect.

  Looking around, I see the empty twelve pack sitting beside me and crushed beer cans littered everywhere. I usually never drink more than six, but last night they were going down so good, I must have drank the whole damn thing without even realizing it. At least I didn’t get into any trouble and no one found me out here. That would be a bitch to explain where I got the alcohol and would have Dad pissed at me for a long time, let alone willing to buy me beer anytime soon.

  Once I’m standing, I’m happy that I’m not hungover. I have a little bit of a headache, but that I can handle. I start picking up the cans and placing them back into the box before starting my walk home. Don’t want to leave any evidence I was here.

  It only takes me five minutes before I’m walking through the front door. Not really sure what time it is or what time my dad got home, I try to stay as quiet as possible, but when I walk past his open door, I see that he’s not there.

  I head back toward the living room. I look at the couch, thinking maybe I missed him sleeping there when I walked in, but he’s not there either.

  Maybe he went somewhere, but I could have sworn his bike was outside. Looking out the window to confirm it is indeed there, I decide to just wait for him. I can’t wait to tell him the revelations I had last night. Not just about wanting to be a better son, but of what I want to do with my life. I thought for sure fighting was what I really wanted, but now I’m not so sure. I still don’t think I want to go to the Marines right away, but I’m keeping that option open for now. What I really want to do is travel with my dad for a while. We could tour the US and see all the places we always dreamed of seeing but never thought it’d be possible. I think California is still where I want to go, but we could move to Canada for all I care.

  Heading into my room, I grab some clean clothes and jump in the shower. I think sitting under the hot spray will help ease the pain in my back from sleeping outside last night.

  Once I’m done getting dressed, I walk into the living room, checking to see if Dad came home while I was in the shower, but that’s a no-go. I wonder where he is. I hope he’s not out looking for me. Maybe I should text him to tell him I’m home. Digging my phone out of my pocket, I shoot out a quick text.

  Me: Hey old man, I’m home. Where are you?

  Walking into the kitchen, I look around for something to eat but don’t find much. Shit, we should have gone shopping last night. We have nothing to eat around here. Digging in my pocket, I pull out some cash I had left over from last week when Dad gave me some money for gas, so I decide to head down to the gas station for a slice of pizza or a bag of chips.

  Making my way toward my truck, I see a police cruiser pull up. Not sure why they are here, I wait for them in front of my truck. Hopefully no one saw me out at the quarry last night or leaving this morning.

  “Holden,” Officer Jacobs says as he stops in front of me.

 
I can’t read his face so I’ll just have to tread carefully. If he’s not here because of last night, then I’m not telling him.

  “Officer. What can I do for you?” I try to sound relaxed and calm. He doesn’t like me very much since that night a few months ago when he was trying to break up a fight and I “accidently” elbowed him in the nose. Fucker got me back by making me spend the night in jail though.

  He looks down at his feet while rubbing the back of his head like whatever it is that he needs to say is painful for him. “I need you to come down to the station, son.”

  I feel a prickle of irritation at the word “son” when he’s referring to me, but I hold my tongue. New leaf, remember?

  “Sure thing. Lead the way.” I go to open my truck door, but he reaches a hand out to stop me.

  “I’ll drive.”

  I let out a sigh and instead of answering him, I just follow him over to his squad car.

  We don’t talk the whole way to the station and I still have no idea why he’s bringing me in. Usually, if he thinks I did something wrong, he would gloat and rub whatever it is in my face—whether I actually did it or not.

  He parks on the side of the street right in front of the door. He gets out and waits for me to catch up to him. At least I didn’t have to ride in the back of the cruiser. I feel like a caged dog when that happens. Thank God that’s only happened once. Okay, maybe two or three times. Four, max.

  Officer Jacobs leads me to a small office toward the back of the station. When I walk in behind him, he closes the door and sits down behind his desk.

  “Please sit down, Holden. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  Wanting to get this over with as fast as possible so I can get something to eat and find my dad, I sit down and wait patiently.

  “It’s about your father.” He pauses and rubs the back of his neck again. Before he can go on, I laugh and shake my head.

  “What did the old man do? Public intox? OWI? Or wait, don’t tell me, he got into a bar fight?” I laugh again, thinking about the last option. My dad is usually a mellow guy, but if you push him hard enough he’s one mean sonofabitch. I’ve never seen him in action, but I’ve heard stories and have seen him lose his temper a few times with some of the neighbors. Man, I’m going to have fun giving him shit for this for a long time. He’s never going to live this down.

  “Well, yes, there was a fight, but—”

  “Maybe I should let him sit in the tank for the day. That’s what he’d do for me.” I laugh again just thinking about his homecoming later tonight.

  “Holden. Please, let me finish.”

  He waits until he sees that I’m not going to interrupt again, but that doesn’t stop me from laughing on the inside.

  “Like I was trying to say before. There was an altercation at the bar your father was at last night. We got a call from the bartender around one this morning. He said there was a group of men fighting in the alley and that it looked like a few of them had weapons. We got there as fast as we could, but by then the fight was already over and everyone was gone. When we went into the alley to take a closer look, we found your father.” He stops again and looks down. I know my dad can handle himself in a fist fight, but knowing there were weapons, it makes me worried. How badly injured is he?

  “Is he going to be all right?” I ask quietly.

  He takes too long to answer, so I get up and head toward the door. Fuck it, I’ll go to the hospital and find out myself.

  “Holden, wait. Holden!” he shouts as I ignore him and make my way through the building to outside. The hospital is only about a mile away. I don’t have my truck, but I can walk there. It would be faster than going home to get my truck.

  Just as I get outside, I feel someone grab my arm. I yank out of the grasp and turn around. Officer Jacobs is standing there, looking a little uncertain, but determined. He has every right to be uncertain. I’ll drop his ass if he keeps me from getting to my dad.

  “Let me go.”

  I turn to go, but the next words out of Officer Jacobs’ mouth stops me cold.

  “Holden. He’s gone, son. I’m so sorry.”

  I just stand there. I couldn’t have heard him right. My dad isn’t dead. He must mean he’s not at the hospital anymore. Yeah, that’s it. He’s probably already home, waiting for me.

  “By the time we got there it was already too late. He suffered a blow to the head, probably from a tire iron, and a gunshot wound to the chest. I’m sorry, Holden, but he’s dead.”

  It’s with those last words that every piece of thread that was holding me together snaps. No longer able to hold the beast that lies in wait at bay, I was no longer Holden, a seventeen-year-old boy. I was no longer anyone’s son. I was now a man that had been wronged. A man that would do whatever it took to find the people who did this. I didn’t even recognize who I was anymore, but I knew nothing would ever the same again.

  Chapter 2

  I feel a burning in my gut, like I could literally breathe fire. I don’t want to believe my dad is dead, but I can feel it in my heart—or where it used to reside—that it’s true. My dad was murdered.

  Turning around to face Officer Jacobs, I get right in his face. “Who did it?” I say in a deadly voice that I don’t even recognize. It’s like something has taken over my body. I’m no longer the beast I’m used to turning into, but a demon of Hell. It’s a welcome feeling. It helps hide the pain.

  “Just calm down, son. Let’s go back inside and we can talk about this.” Five minutes ago I would have let it slide, but not now.

  “I asked you a fucking question!” Deep down I know this isn’t a road I should go down, but it’s the only way for me now. When my father was killed, I died too, so there is no more letting things roll off my back or go in one ear and out the other. No more wanting to be nice and just make it through the next few months. What do I have to look forward to now? Not a goddamn thing. I can’t turn the other cheek. Not this time.

  “Holden. You’re walking a very thin line right now. I understand you’re upset, but you don’t want to do this, I can promise you that.”

  Fuck this shit. I don’t need him to find out who has lived their last day on this hell rock.

  Turning around, I storm off down the street and head toward my house. I can hear Officer Jacobs yelling at me to stop, but it’s a lost cause—I’m a lost cause. I couldn’t care less if I go to jail. I couldn’t care less if I die tonight—as long as I can take the motherfucker who took my dad away with me too, I don’t care.

  I make it home in fifteen minutes. I barely even remember the walk here, but I don’t need to. All I need to know is that I’m getting in my truck and driving down to the bar where it all happened—where my father took his last breath.

  I have enough sense not to drive like a maniac and avoid going to the bar right away. I’m sure Officer Jacobs will be looking for me there, so I head out of town and just drive for a while. As much as I try to get my anger down to a somewhat normal level and try to get a piece of myself back, it’s hopeless. The fucker that killed my father not only took my dad away from me, but he took myself away from me too. I don’t have it in me to care right now though and whoever did it will soon find out what a huge mistake it was to kill my father. They fucked with the wrong man.

  I’ve felt this way a few times in my life and it’s always when I’m angry and about ready to knock someone out, but this time it’s different. It’s worse. It’s like there’s no controlling it and no going back from it. Whatever is taking over my body, mind, and soul is here to stay. Maybe that’s a good thing, though. I don’t want to think of the good things in life or plan for a future that doesn’t include my dad.

  An hour later, the only thing I’ve managed to do is get more pissed at what happened and more determined to find the fucker who did this. I may only be seventeen, but when he feels my wrath, it will be like he’s dancing with Lucifer himself.

  While I was I driving, I decided that I would do to him w
hat he did to my dad—minus the gun. I don’t have one and I know my dad didn’t have one either, and it would be too hard to get one on such short notice. I’ll just beat him with a tire iron. I know Officer Jacobs didn’t say that was for sure what was used, but I’m just going to go with it. But I won’t make it quick for him. I’ll make sure to hit him where it’ll hurt the worst, but not kill him quickly. I hated science and any other class that had to do with the human body, but at least I know where all the major organs are and how to hit him where he’ll feel it the most.

  Stopping back at home, I pack as much as I can into a bag and look around my father’s room for anything I don’t want to leave behind. I find his old dog tags, a picture of me and him when I was probably ten, and a few of his shirts.

  While I’m digging through his dresser drawer, I find a shoe box. Not sure what’s inside and if it’s something that is important, I open it up. Inside are envelopes filled with hundred dollar bills. By my rough estimate, it’s about thirty grand. I guess my dad put some of the money away for a rainy day. Well, it may not be raining, but I’m taking it. I know he would want me to have it, even though he may not approve why I’ll be using it. But then again, maybe he would.

  I don’t know where the other twenty grand is or if it was stolen off his body last night, but Officer Jacobs didn’t mention it so I’m just going to assume it’s gone. Doesn’t matter where it’s at. The money I found will be more than enough to get me away from this place after I take care of a few loose ends.

  Grabbing everything I’m taking with me since I won’t be back, I head back out to my truck. I see my dad’s Harley sitting there and decide to load it in the back as well. He taught me how to ride last year and I was planning to buy my own bike after graduation so we could go riding together. Now that will never happen, but doesn’t mean that I can’t take his bike to ride to remember him by. Getting it loaded is a little difficult by myself, but once I have the bike strapped down, I get in my truck and head toward downtown.