Prosper (Hells Saints MC Book 7)

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Prosper (Hells Saints MC Book 7) Page 11

by Paula Marinaro


  “Okay, so … if you can take his bottom half, I can manage the top half. Then, we can slide him off the stool and into his truck.” Pinky stood with her hand on her hip while she spewed out orders like a boss.

  “I don’t think so.” Prosper shook his head.

  “What part?”

  “All of it.”

  Pinky frowned at Prosper in exasperation. Then she swung a hand in the air. “Well, look around, the bar’s closing up. Sean has a bad back so I can’t expect him to help me. And I sure as hell can’t leave my brother here.”

  Prosper felt the irony of the situation bite him right in the ass. What was it with him and chicks who needed help rescuing their brothers from bars? Looking at this woman standing before him, she and Maggie could not be more different. One was a tiny, flat-chested blonde with big hair, bright blue eyes, long, lacquered fingernails—and if he wasn’t mistaken, she was packing heat in the front pocket of her polyester waitress uniform.

  The other was an exotic beauty with silky long hair, womanly curves, and dark eyes—who spoke softly and grew organic in her backyard.

  But when it came to their brothers? Both women were idiots.

  “God forbid you break a fingernail …” Prosper pretended annoyance because… seriously? Petey was not a small guy, and right now, his big Irish ass was nothing but dead weight. The little waitress would probably pop out a hernia just trying to lift Petey’s arm. “Sean, if I take most of the weight, can you help me get Petey to his truck?” Prosper began to drag Petey off the stool.

  “Sure thing.” Sean walked around the bar, and between the two of them they managed to get him out the door and into the truck.

  Pinky fished the keys out of her brother’s pocket and slid behind the wheel.

  “Follow me,” she ordered Prosper. Again.

  He hesitated. Damn! Nobody, Nobody, gave Prosper Worthington orders. The skinny blonde had some balls talking to him like that. Had she not seen his presidents patch, for Christ’s sake?

  Pinky waited about a half a minute before she jutted out her bony hip, and flung a hand up in exasperation. “Damn drunken fool man ain’t gonna drive himself home. You following or what?”

  He grinned inwardly despite himself. There was something about her fearlessness that Prosper found … fucking adorable. So … what the hell. He decided to follow the truck and see where this night might lead. Pinky drove up to a house that he assumed belonged to her brother. While Prosper watched on, she took the keys out of the ignition and put them in the mailbox close to the front door. Then, she pulled her brother across the bench seat of the truck and covered him with an old plaid blanket.

  She met Prosper at the end of the driveway.

  “He gonna be okay in there?” Prosper asked her.

  “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

  They both stared at each other for a long moment. Prosper broke the silence first.

  “You need a ride home?”

  “I’m not going to sleep with you just because you helped me out.”

  There was more silence while Prosper considered her statement.

  “Okay, so why are you gonna sleep with me then?”

  Pinky just smiled and hopped on the back of Prosper’s bike.

  The next couple of days were full of sweaty sheets, messy hair, broken lamps, long joint-shower sessions, and periods of neighbors banging on the walls.

  Sex with Pinky was … fun.

  No, it was more than that—it was life affirming.

  A goddamn celebration. Yeah, that’s what it was.

  Sex with Pinky was the ticker tape parade, the corner piece of birthday cake, the winning lottery ticket … confetti and balloons and magic tricks.

  It was hot and daring and easy and an escape from the real world.

  For Prosper, Pinky was the last deep cleansing breath, the long drink from the cool spring, and the velvety darkness before the dawn.

  She was his stay of execution before shit got real.

  When Prosper rode up to the house, the first thing he saw were two little girls with their fists full of strawberries and their chins and lips colored crimson from the juice of the fat berries. As soon as they saw him, they ran up the small hill, screaming and laughing and calling his name.

  He didn’t even attempt to hold back his own burst of happiness at seeing Raine and Claire, healthy and happy and resilient as only kids could be. Each time he came to visit, he wondered if they would remember him. Early on he had decided to stack the deck in his favor by bringing them little gifts, just like he brought for their mother. Just silly little trinkets that he found along the way and that he hoped would bring a smile to their faces. Now they danced around the motorcycle until he got off. Then Prosper did what he always did with the two girls and lifted both of them, placing one on the left and one on the right of his broad shoulders.

  “One of these days those girls are going to get too big for you to pick up, you know!” Maggie was leaning against the open door, smiling.

  “Never gonna happen.” Prosper grinned. Then with one last tickle, he knelt down on one knee and the girls jumped off.

  “What did you bring us?” Claire burst out her excitement.

  Raine pulled on her arm.

  “What?” Claire looked at her sister.

  “It’s not polite to ask like that.” Raine frowned at her.

  Claire thought about it for a second, then said, “Well, then, how am I supposed to ask?”

  “You aren’t supposed to ask at all,” Raine whispered to her.

  “Then, how am I supposed to know!” Claire shook her head at her big sister.

  “Well, how about we start with this?” Prosper pulled a chocolate bar out of his pocket for each of the girls. Claire dove right in, but Raine held back and looked at her mother first. When Maggie gave her nod of approval, she unwrapped the chocolate bar slowly, as if she intended to make it last forever. Prosper looked from the girls to his motorcycle then back again. “Hmm … I’m not sure, but it could be that a few things fell into my saddlebags on my way here. You might want to go take a look …”

  But before he could finish, both girls took off at a run.

  “Left side!” Prosper yelled out to them. Then he looked with alarm at Maggie because the right side held his weed, his flask, and his condoms. “They do know left from right by now, don’t they?”

  “The side facing the barn, girls!” Maggie called out after them.

  “Now, you realize I have to know what is in that right bag!” Maggie laughed against his chest when he put his arms out wide and pulled her into him.

  Maggie still looked beautiful, but her eyes has lost some of their sparkle, and there was a grayish pallor to her skin. Prosper’s heart dropped when he held her. She’d gotten so thin and felt so fragile in his arms. He wanted to hold on to her forever, to give her his strength, his life’s blood, his body, his soul, whatever she needed … whatever he could do.

  “Goddamn it! You just got here and already you’re plying my kids with candy and god only knows what else … and you’re manhandling my woman!” Jack came around the side of the house and bellowed out good-naturedly. His welcomed smile couldn’t quite hide the sadness in his eyes or the drawn look of apprehension on his face. Jack’s shoulders slumped as if he were carrying the weight of the world.

  Christ, Jack looked worse than Maggie did.

  Prosper berated himself for not coming sooner. A wave of guilt washed over him as he thought of how he had been balls deep in that little blonde for the past few days instead of being here, where he should have been.

  Where he was needed.

  It wasn’t until Maggie began to move out of his embrace that he realized he was still holding her against him, so he reluctantly let her go.

  “Mamma! Daddy! Look what we got!” Claire came running towards them with a face full of melted chocolate, her sister following close on her heels.

  “We got some animal puppets that you can put on your fingers!” Cla
ire was jumping all around again and waving her little cloth-covered fingers high in the air. “There are zebras and giraffes and lions and tigers … and monkeys!”

  “Oh no! Not monkeys!” Jack grabbed Claire and threw her over his shoulder as she laughed uproariously. Then he tipped Raine over and held her like a suitcase while she screamed out in glee. Jack roared, “We’ve already got too many monkeys around here! And they are chocolate covered! What do you say I take these two little chimps and douse them with people juice, Mommy?”

  Maggie shook her head and laughed at her husband’s antics. “Just so long as you bring them back safe and sound! And clean!”

  Jack put the two girls down and yelled out, “Last one to the house is a chunky monkey!” He held back for a moment and let the girls take the lead. Then he kissed his wife on the cheek, nodded a thanks to Prosper, and ran after the laughing little girls.”

  “Sit with me by the garden?” Maggie smiled at Prosper after the door had shut behind Jack and her daughters.

  “Sure.” Prosper followed her to the cedar glider next to the lush vegetable garden. As Prosper looked at the thick vines covered in cucumbers, the rows with bright leaves of lettuce, fat green beans, and fragrant onions bursting up from the soil, he thought the garden was almost obscene. It irritated him and made him angry. How could she be dying when these stupid vegetables were so vibrant and healthy and growing so heartily.

  “I brought you something too,” Prosper said with an embarrassed apology. He thought it was a great gift at the time, brilliant as a matter of fact. Now, fully faced with Maggie’s illness, he realized how naïve he had been, and the present seemed trite and … well, sort of stupid.

  “I’ve got to tell you, those little finger puppets are going to be a hard gift to beat,” she said with a small smile.

  Prosper put the small woven-lidded box in her hand. It was the size of her palm and hand-painted. Inside were a half dozen tiny handcrafted dolls.

  “They are beautiful! I have never seen anything like them!” Maggie cried out in delight and meticulously examined each tiny doll. “Where are they from?”

  “They’re Guatemalan. They’re called ‘worry dolls.’” Prosper hesitated to continue.

  “Worry dolls?”

  “Yeah. Legend has it that if you give a doll a worry and sleep with it under your pillow, the doll will take away the worry overnight,” Prosper told her uneasily. “I brought them for you a while back before … umm … before the … before I heard about the—”

  “Cancer. It’s okay to say it, Prosper.”

  “I know. I know it is, Maggie. It just seems like such a ridiculous gift now.” He managed to speak around the lump in his throat. “I know a dumb doll can’t take away your worries …”

  “I love them for the hope they represent, and I love you for bringing them to me.” Then she reached out her hand to his. “Thank you for being here.”

  He held her cold hand. “What can I do for you, honey? Anything. I’ll do anything for you. Is there anything you want?”

  “Time,” she whispered to him. “I want more time.”

  After dinner, Jack helped Maggie give the kids a bath and tuck them in. While her husband was in the shower, Maggie talked to Prosper.

  “Take Jack out tonight. He’ll say no and come up with a million excuses, but I want him to go, get out, get some air and clear his head. He’s hovering and it’s driving me insane. There’s gonna be a time where he can’t leave me alone with the kids, but that time isn’t here yet.”

  Prosper didn’t respond to her. He couldn’t. There was nothing, absolutely nothing to say. He didn’t want to leave her either, not for an hour, not for a minute, not for a second. Not now and not ever. In the few hours he had been with her, time had become very precious.

  “Oh, god, you too?” She let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m fine. I’m going to turn in early, and the kids always sleep through the night. And even if they don’t, the most they’ll do is hop into bed with me. Please, go out and take Jack with you. He hasn’t been on his Harley in forever, and I need him to do that.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Then, you got it, darlin’.” Prosper caved because when it came down to it, he really couldn’t deny her anything.

  Just as Maggie had predicted, it took some convincing, but once Jack was clear of the cottage, he flew through the wide open roads, leaned in hard, and went full throttle.

  The moon had disappeared and the red dawn was rising when they decided to stop at an all-night diner and get some breakfast before they turned direction and headed home.

  Jack and Prosper had finished a feast of eggs, toast, home fries, corned-beef hash, cold, sweet juice, and hot, strong coffee. Now they leaned against their bikes and enjoyed a smoke.

  Over breakfast they had discussed Dunlop tires, Vance and Hines staggered exhaust pipes, the Softail Fat Boy, and the goddamn weather. Jack seemed to be doing everything he could to steer away from talking about Maggie’s declining health and impending death.

  Prosper remained fully engaged in the conversation, asking and answering questions, and good-naturedly giving Jack a boatload of shit when he said something Prosper didn’t agree with.

  And in doing that, he gave his friend something he needed desperately … the normal. A respite from thinking about, talking about, and dealing with the shitty hand that life had thrown down.

  Finally, Jack seemed to be relaxing, the tension in his shoulders had eased up, and the hard lines around his mouth had softened. But the hand from which he held the pack of cigarettes he was chain smoking was shaking.

  “Talk to me, brother.” Prosper clapped his old friend on the shoulder.

  “I need to make some serious bank, like yesterday.” Jack sighed. “There’s some new treatments that the doctors think might help Maggie. I got crap for insurance and it won’t cover it. These new treatments are ten grand a month, and that’s on top of the other shit we’re already paying out. The whole round of treatments will run a total of about a hundred grand and they want half of that up front.”

  Then he paused and shook his head slightly. “I hit a convenience store about a month back. I only got five grand and was shitting my pants the whole time thinking about what might happen if I got caught and sent away. I would do the time standing on my head and whistling goddamn Dixie if it helped my woman out, but I can’t take that risk again, not for that shit amount of money. Five lousy grand ain’t worth the risk of going away and leaving her to die alone and the kids going into the system. But now that you’re here I figure you can watch out for her, take the kids if you need to.”

  Here we go with the faulty fucking reasoning again. The more things change, the more they stay the same, Prosper thought to himself but instead said, “So now that I’m here, what? You gonna hit a goddamn bank?”

  “Nah. Bank’s too hard. I’d need schematics and shit that I have no way of getting. But there’s an OTB a couple of miles out of town,” Jack said, matter-of-factly. “I know they don’t clean out their safe for deposit but once a week; they need to keep that green on hand for payouts,” Jack told him.

  “Security system?” Prosper decided to go with it and find out exactly where Jack’s head was at.

  “Old. It’s a dinosaur,” Jack said. “Trip lights, shit like that. I’ve already broken in a few times. I just set off the motion alarms by letting a few rodents go. Last time, the fat fuck on security duty didn’t even bother to go in and investigate; he just assumed it was the mice again, threw some light on the building to make it look good, then reset the alarm in between bites of his Big Mac.”

  “And after?”

  “There’s a bus station a few blocks away and old train tracks run behind the place. The tracks provide a perfect escape route. They’re grown over and there’s no lighting to speak of anywhere nearby. So, it would be just a quick quarter mile down and across those tracks and into an alleyway that leads to the bus station. I �
�ve already rented a locker. I plan on just slipping the duffle in the locker, leaving it for a few days, then when the heat is off, I’ll go get it.”

  Prosper thought for a moment and conceded, “Okay, yeah, sounds like it could work, and you know I got your back as far as anything that’s gonna make the rest of Maggie’s life as comfortable as possible. And if there is even the slightest hope of extending it? Definitely down with that, brother.”

  “I appreciate it, man.” Jack looked relieved.

  “But the convenience store and that OTB is small-time shit, Jack. You’re gonna go through that money fast, what then? You know the chance of getting caught increases exponentially with each job. And you going away on a robbery charge is game over, man.”

  Jack’s shoulders sagged. “Taking it day by day. And right now that’s all I got.”

  “Nah, you got way more than that, my brother. You got me and I got hundreds of men wearing the HSMC patch. You sit down with those doctors of yours, figure out exactly what Maggie needs and how much it’s gonna take to give her a shot at getting well. Then you let me know. Once we get all the information tied up, I’ll be able to get you what you need.”

  “Serious?” Jack squinted through a curl of smoke. His expression hopeful but guarded.

  Prosper nodded. “Dead serious.”

  “Poor choice of words, man,” Jack shot back, then he grinned. “Gallows humor.”

  “There’s that sick, irreverent bastard I know.” Prosper grinned back. He was happy to see Jack’s goofy smile, even if for just a moment. It was a relief to know that his friend’s innate good humor hadn’t totally disappeared under that heavy mantle of sorrow he was carrying.

  Prosper was determined to help Maggie out in any way he could, even if it meant moving the HSMC in a direction that was dangerous and unlawful, and promised to bring the club to a place from where there’d be no turning back. A place where his front man, Derringer Gage, had no trouble taking the lead and, in fact, had been chomping at the bit to explore.

 

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