Crank_Ruthless Bastards

by Chelsea Handcock

  Stepping back, she put the sweater down on the vanity, so she could get a full view of her naked body. She’d lost a lot of weight, weight her already slim frame had needed to look somewhat normal. Now, she looked like a refugee. She rubbed her hand across her newest battle wound. One long, pink scar, hip bone to hip bone. The pain was no longer there or at least not physically, but this scar represented the end. The end of hope and the end of happiness, at least for Cathy.

  Cathy heard a noise in the hall and knew her time had run out. Grabbing the sweater, more a robe than anything else, she covered her body, pulling the sides close to her body. She tied the belt tightly around, making sure she was covered head to toe. Going out into her bedroom, she started taking the sheets and blankets off the bed, throwing them into a pile on the floor. Once that was done, she grabbed the extra set of sheets and blankets from the chair by the bed and started to remake the bed. She wouldn’t be getting back in it anytime soon, but old habits die hard.

  Her mother had been a stickler for keeping things neat and tidy. When Cathy was old enough to leave her family home, she joined the Airforce, and those habits become even further engrained. Beds made complete with hospital corners on the sheets, the blankets pulled tight enough to bounce a quarter were commonplace for her now. It was stupid, she didn’t care about much of anything else right now, but that damn bed would always be made unless she was in it. She could control that, take care of it, and complete the task without thinking.

  After she was done with the bed, she sat down in the chair and waited. Looking at the clock, she noticed it was just after four-thirty in the morning. Shit, this ritual was getting old; she wanted to stop it, but she just couldn’t. She wasn’t being fair to either of them. It only took another minute for the knock to come. Cathy considered not answering, but knew Collin would just open the door to check on her, anyway. Clearing her throat, Cathy softly said, “Come in.”

  Seeing Collin “Crank” McGinnis always took Cathy’s breath away, even after twenty years together, the man was absolutely gorgeous. Standing in the dim light of the hallway, she admired him, like every other time. He wasn’t wearing anything but low-slung gym shorts which she was sure he threw on only after he heard her get up from the nightmare. His broad shoulders and massive chest always drew her eyes. At forty-two, he still looked like a god sculpted from stone. But one look at his face and she knew those feelings would disappear. Once she saw the look of pity and guilt, she would be right back where she started.

  She watched as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door. He wouldn’t come fully into the room; since she got back from the hospital, he kept his distance. She knew having other people in her space was hard, but she would have welcomed Crank.

  “I heard you get up and wanted to make sure you were okay,” Crank said like he did every single night. His voice wasn’t harsh, it wasn’t anything. He had adopted this monotone way of dealing with her, and Cathy hated that even more because she had caused it.

  “I’m fine,” she answered. It was her standard answer to the question. Usually, he would say a couple of other things and leave, but something was different this time.

  “You’re not fine,” Crank said through gritted teeth. Then he shook his head and said, “Listen that crap with Misty. Shit, I’ll take care of it when I go to the Clubhouse. Tuck called Church.”

  “Okay, but is your presence mandatory?” Cathy questioned. Crank was the Road Captain of the Ruthless Bastards Defiance chapter. She knew he hadn’t been going in all that often, but figured he had talked it over with his brothers at the Club, and it was okay. Apparently, she’d been wrong in her assumption. Crank lifted his hand and ran it down his face. She knew this was bad, and she went to stand to go to him, to offer him support or comfort something, but he put up his hand, stopping her.

  “Not now Cath, not after all this time.”

  That hurt, but she knew he was right, so she sat back down in the chair.

  “I told you I would never lie to you, and I’m not going to start now. I fucked up, and a vote is being called to relieve me of my position with the Club.” This time Cathy didn’t stop she stood up and went to him, but he stepped back into the hall. “No, not now.”

  Cathy stopped in her tracks and just looked at him. He looked as tired and unkempt as she did. Crank was a bad ass biker, but he always had a twinkle of mischief in his eyes that was gone now, replaced by a stone-cold blue.

  “What happened? Why are they taking a vote?” Cathy knew the RBMC meant everything to Crank, hell at one time, it meant everything to her, too, but things had changed for her. She hadn’t expected them to change for Crank.

  “Like I said, I fucked up and left you and the rest of the women vulnerable when we were on lockdown. I should have known better, but Carri got hurt. The vote is justified.”

  “But...”

  “No, it is what it is. I’ll take whatever consequences the guys decide to dish out. But after the vote, regardless of the outcome, I’m taking off for a while.”

  “You're leaving Defiance?” Cathy questioned and started to pace away. On her second pass, she stopped and looked at him. “Or are you leaving me?”

  “Fuck, Cath, I’m not leaving you, but I can’t be around you right now, it isn’t doing either of us any good. I try to talk to you, you say you're fine. You stay in this room and die a little each and every fucking day. I can’t watch it anymore. Earlier, out there with Misty, was the most I’ve seen or heard you say or do in months. It’s just too much. I’m not helping you.”

  Cathy was getting mad all over again, which in a weird kind of way made her happy because she was actually feeling something other than the numbness she had been feeling for months. Cathy knew what he was saying was somewhat accurate, but damn, the one thing he had always promised her was he would never leave. Then there was that bitch out there. Cathy had known better than to air their dirty laundry in front of the woman, but when she saw what was going on, on that couch, she flipped. So, just like the pyscho she was starting to feel like, she lashed out.

  “You can’t watch it? What does that mean, exactly?”

  “It means I’m taking a break and getting my head together. It means I can’t do that here with you. You need help, Cath, we both do. What happened changed us both. I’m done beating my head up against the fucking wall, trying to figure out how to fix you when you don’t want to be fixed.” Turning, he walked into the hall and punched the wall, collapsing the sheetrock in on itself. “I won’t stay here and watch the woman I love slowly kill herself.”

  “I don’t need to talk to anyone. I’m dealing with it my way.” Cathy yelled, following him out of the room.

  Crank turned on her. If he was another man, she would have flinched or considered running the other way, but she knew he would never hurt her.

  “No, you’re not dealing with anything, you're hiding. When was the last time you went out to see the dogs? Hell, when was the last time you left the house?” When she didn’t say anything, he continued, “That’s right, you haven’t in six months, you haven’t even been to Brut’s and Dahlia's graves. I had to send the new batch of pups up to Peyton in Michigan because you just stopped. Stopped everything, Cath. You need help. Get fucking help. I sure as fuck am.”

  “You just want me gone, so you and your little skank can finish what you started tonight,” Cathy sneered.

  “You believe whatever the fuck you want, but that piece of snatch doesn’t mean a thing to me, and if I weren't so fucking messed up, that shit would’ve never gone down tonight, and you know it.”

  When he went into their guest bedroom and slammed the door, Cathy lost her mad, and the numbness started creeping back in. He was right. Staggering back, she hit the opposite wall and slid down until she was sitting on her ass. Cathy couldn’t fight his words because they were right. Her dogs had meant everything to her, and she hadn’t even asked about them. She’d heard they were dead, and that was it. She hadn’t mourned
them or asked what happened to them. She didn’t do anything, just like she hadn’t done anything to protect the man she loved more than her own life.

  Well, not anymore. Crank was right, she was bringing them both down, and he didn’t deserve that. He was a good man. Nothing which had happened was his fault. It was hers, she caused it, and she needed to let him leave and move on with his life. She couldn’t hold him to the words he’d said so long ago. She didn’t deserve them. She didn’t deserve his loyalty and love. She just needed to figure out a way to let him go.

  Getting up, she gave Crank the space he wanted. He had bigger things to worry about today, he didn’t need to see the ghost of the woman she once was before he lost the only other thing he held close, his club.

  Going back to her room, she shut the door and pulled out her phone to text Tuck, the President of the RMBC. She might not have done many things right in the last six months, but she would do her damnedest to help Crank now.

  Don’t let Crank lose his rank or standing in the Club. If he did anything wrong, it was because of me. Make me pay the price.

  She was a little shocked when after hitting send, it only took a couple of seconds for a return text.

  Not, your place to decide, Cath. Club business is Club business. If you had asked for anything else, it would be yours, but not this Cath. Crank knows he fucked up.

  Shit! When she heard the door to the bedroom slam and Crank’s booted feet stomp down the hall, then the stairs, she knew he was going for a ride to clear his head before Church. She needed to act fast. Cathy knew she couldn’t fix everything, but she could at least try to fix this. Dialing her phone, she waited for five rings until a very frantic Carri picked up. She and Carri had gotten close over the years she’d spent in Defiance before Carri left for law school and her new life.

  “Cathy, what’s wrong? Are you okay, is Crank okay?”

  Cathy could hear Link in the background, so she quickly said, “I’m fine.” Damn even she was starting to hate those two words. “Can you talk for a minute, privately?”

  There was silence on the other end of the phone, but eventually, Carri answered with a hesitant, “Sure, give me a moment.”

  Cathy could hear Carri moving around and Link’s muffled voice in the background; she assumed Carri had put her hand over the phone. After a couple of minutes, Carri came back on. “Okay, I’m here. What do you need?”

  “Tell, me what happened to you, tell me why Crank is being brought up on a vote to strip his rank.” For the next fifteen minutes, she listened as Carri laid it all out for her.

  Crank was supposed to stay at the Clubhouse and protect the women when the rest of the Club went out on a run. Carri didn’t say what the run was about or what it involved, and Cathy didn’t ask; she had been an Old Lady long enough to know better. What she found out still pissed her off. Carri had begged Crank to go after Addy because someone had threatened her, but it was a ruse, Addy hadn’t been in any danger.

  Carri was taken and held by her parents and James and Val Haslet; they were going to sell her into sexual slavery. Cathy just shook her head. People were fucked up in the head worse than even she was. Carri got a little banged up, but according to the woman herself, not too bad. Link and the boys came in and saved her, turning her parents, along with Val, over to the authorities. Good riddance to bad rubbish. Those three deserved what they got.

  “I need a favor,” Cathy asked once Carri finished. “Can you get Link to take you to the Diner for breakfast? I want to talk to him before he goes to Church.”

  “Yeah, I can do that, but why don’t you just come here?”

  “Crank left me,” Cathy blurted out, “I don’t want to talk about that,” before Carri could say anything or ask any questions and continued talking. “Here is the deal, I don’t want to cause him any more problems, and I really need to talk to Link before that meeting. Please, Carri, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

  “I know you wouldn’t. I’ll have him there within the hour. Is that enough time for you to get ready and meet up with us?”

  “Yeah, see you then.”

  Cathy looked around the room and knew what she needed to do. Grabbing the chair, she propped it up against the doorknob, then went around the room, picking up every single glass and ceramic item and placing them on the seat. If anyone came through that door, she would know it. Satisfied, she went into the bathroom, dragging the other chair in there, doing the same thing, this time with items she found in the bathroom, including the toilet tank lid.

  Turning on the water, she left the shower door open, not caring about getting water on the floor. She was freaked, but determined. Washing her hair and conditioning it twice to get the tangles out, she cleaned her body quickly, nearly hyperventilating. Getting out, she removed the items from the chair, then the chair before opening the door. She was breathing a little more naturally, but still panting pretty hard. Looking around the room, she calmed further when she saw the chair still under the bedroom doorknob, nothing had moved from the seat.

  It took her over half an hour to get ready, her hair taking the most time. Finding something to wear which didn’t fall off her body was another problem. Grabbing her purse and coat, she walked down the hall, then the stairs, and right out the front door. Taking a couple of deep breaths from the crisp morning air, she went to her car. She had work to do.

  Chapter 3

  Crank sat on the bed in the guest room and looked around. This wasn’t where he was supposed to be spending his nights. Six months ago, he would have never thought he’d choose any of this for either of them. Nothing was the same, he wasn’t the same, and the life they had built together was gone or at least on its way to being nothing but a memory. He didn’t know if he was doing the right thing, but nothing else seemed to be working. The truth was he knew he was more to blame then Cathy was; he had been pulling away since they came back from the hospital. He was just so damn mad. He was supposed to be the man, and he couldn’t even protect his woman in their own fucking house.

  Grabbing his phone, he made a call. He didn’t wait for the person on the other end to acknowledge him, merely said, “Meet me at the warehouse in twenty,” and hung up. Getting up, he threw on some jeans and a t-shirt and slipped his feet into his boots. When he went to take his cut off the chair by the desk, he just looked at it for a minute. He remembered the day he became a full patched member and how happy he’d been.

  Looking at the back, he ran his finger over the six flaming skulls and thought about what they meant—The RBMC always had your six, come life or death, flame or fury, they would be there, even all the way to the gates of hell. The two-scythe’s represented justice or death to whoever decided to break or betray them. The chain surrounding all of it was unbreakable and infinite, just like the Brother’s loyalty to the Club. Crank was doubting some of those things now. This cut and his association with the RBMC hadn’t done any of that, it had caused his woman harm.

  For the first time in twenty years, he was questioning where he belonged. If he even wanted to sit through the vote to take his rank away, or if he just wanted to give it up. Grabbing his cut, he put it on, maybe for the last time, and felt the well-worn leather surround his body. A part of him still believed in the Club and what they stood for, the justice they made sure happened, and in some ways, he was still proud, he always would be. But he needed to get his head straight and figure out his next move. What was right for all of them—the Club and Cathy.

  Going out of the room and down the stairs, he stopped before he walked out the front door. Was he doing the right thing? He wanted to turn around, go back to Cathy, and explain more, or hell, find a way out of this, but he couldn’t. Taking a deep breath, he left. Walking out of that door almost brought him to his knees, but he didn’t see another way. If he couldn’t get himself together, how would he ever help his woman?

  Getting on his bike, he pulled out of the driveway slowly, taking everything in. He needed to give someone a call ab
out taking care of the remaining dogs. He knew Cathy wouldn’t go down to the kennels. He’d been doing it every day, but shit, maybe he should just call Peyton and ask if she could take the remaining two dogs. Shaking his head, Crank decided he would do that later; the pups had plenty of food and water for the morning, and the kennels doors opened automatically to let them outside into the runs. He would have to figure something out for later though.

  It didn’t take him long to get to the warehouse. The RBMC had several properties, this was just one of them. This was where the guys came to blow off some steam, and Crank needed that right now. Noticing a few bikes in front of the building, he knew that Tank hadn’t kept Crank’s request to himself. Parking, he dismounted his bike and started for the door. This warehouse was just like any other building in town, old and decrepit. Defiance wasn’t exactly a booming metropolis or high-end city. Broken windows were covered with faded wood, old metal siding with enough rust and graffiti to warn people off of the place. That was the way the RBMC liked it. This place was many things, but for tonight, it was the place where he was going to get some fucking peace for once in the last six months.

  Walking in, he found Tank first; the man hugged him, slapping his back. Crank returned the younger man’s gesture, repeating it down the line when Whiskey and Crash came up to them.

  “Glad you called, brother,” Tank said. “I’ve been waiting for a rematch for a while now.” Tank did some fancy footwork and shadow punches, but Crank knew what he meant. His Brothers had been waiting for him to pull his head out of his ass and do what came naturally.

  Crank heard him before he saw him. “You guys can all leave,” Tuck bellowed. “Tank, watch the door, I don’t want anyone coming in here until I say so, get me?”

  When he turned around to face his President, Crank’s anger only increased. He needed this outlet, a way to erase some of the demons chasing him, but it looked like he wasn’t going to get it. Damn it. When the others left, Crank couldn’t hold it any longer.