by April Lust
Biting my lip, I asked Thunder. “Where’s Max?”
Thunder scratched at his balding head, his doughy face showing uncertainty. I wasn’t sure if Max had sworn him to secrecy or if he was just feeling like maybe it was a bad idea to tell me, but I could see the reluctance in his eyes.
“Please,” I asked, my voice pleading.
He let out a heavy sigh that made his whole body droop. “He’s taking care of what’s left of the Slayers, you know, so they can’t do anything like this again.”
I smiled at him and said thank you, but my heart wasn’t in it. Not in any of it. He seemed relieved I was taking it so well, but when I asked him to leave so I could have some personal space, he blanched.
“I can’t do that!” he said vehemently. “Not until everything’s done and Max’s back. He said, ‘Don’t you let anything happen to her.’”
Internally, I wanted to shake him and tell him to just fuck off, to leave me be, but that wouldn’t get me anywhere. If anything, it would just bring Max back to me—and part of me was desperate for that, needing his warm, comforting embrace—but I couldn’t have that. If I was going to do what I needed to do, everyone had to be gone. One look at the faces of those I loved, and I knew I’d lose my nerve once again.
Forcing a smile, I nodded. “Okay, but can you maybe…give me some space? Hang out downstairs? I just…I need to be alone.” I directed this at my mother, too, who was only half there anyway. She barely heard me, I thought, but she nodded just the same. She was the one who answered first.
“Of course. I need to do the laundry. And I left the coffee pot on at home. I shouldn’t have left that on.” She was muttering more to herself than anything else as she got up and walked over to the sink to dump out her coffee. “I need to go home.”
An idea sprung into my head then, and it was sort of terrible. I felt bad for even going there, but it was a good idea. It would fix a lot of things for me, and keep my mother together as she struggled to deal with her secret.
Thunder was getting ready to argue, probably to tell me I should be with people right now, maybe even offer to call Becky over to hang out. But I wasn’t letting him get that out. I stood quickly and went over to him, dropping my voice to a whisper as I pointed towards my mother. “We can’t let her go home alone,” I told him with raised eyebrows. “She’s a total mess.” My phone buzzed. It was sitting on the table, recovered from the cabin where I’d dropped it last. I hadn’t even checked it, though I knew any missed calls or texts would have been from days ago, not today. It seemed tainted to me, just like everything else. I barely even glanced at it before returning my focus to Thunder. “Please, my mother is important. She’s already been through so much…”
Thunder looked over to where my mother stood at the sink. She’d already dumped out her mug of coffee and now she was just standing there with her hands gripping the sink, staring out the window at nothing at all. He crumbled as soon as he saw her, just like I knew he would. “Are you gonna be okay, though? I mean, Max said to make sure—”
I waved off his concern, though it was probably more valid than he knew, albeit for very different reasons. “I’ll be fine. You’ll only be gone for a little while, right? Just going to look out for my mom, make sure she gets in all right. Tuck her in, maybe?” I made my eyes wider, pulling my eyebrows together, my best pleading expression. The last time I’d used it was on my father, begging him to give Max a chance, because it was a look he couldn’t resist.
And it seemed like neither could Thunder.
“Okay,” he said nodding his head, along with some plan working through his mind. “Okay, yeah. I won’t be gone for long. You’re okay. And…and I’ll call Becky. She’ll come over and by the time I get back, you’ll both be fine. And she’s a woman, so it’ll be better.”
I was about to tell him it wasn’t necessary, that Becky didn’t have to come over, but he’d already pulled out his phone and had dialed her number before I could even get my mouth open.
“Hey, honey? How are you? Yeah, listen, I need a favor…” He trailed off as he walked out of the room to finish the conversation.
I turned to my mother, feeling guilt spread through me as I realized just how badly this would affect her. Everyone else would survive. Max would miss me, but he’d move on. Everything would be okay. But mom? She’d already lost so much and, for a second, I wasn’t sure if I could do it. Could she survive losing yet another member of her family?
I didn’t know. What I did know was that I was running out of time and options. There would always be another fight. Another danger. There would always be another Blade. That was part of this life. That was the real territory that motorcycle clubs—gangs, I thought, call them what they are—claimed as their own. If I ever truly wanted to get away, I was going to have to do it by leaving all of this behind.
Maybe, if the circumstances had been different, I would try to convince her to leave with me, but I knew better. Mom had been a part of this life for longer than I could even understand. She’d loved my father, but she’d stayed also because this life was ingrained in her system now. His death was evidence enough of that.
There was no point in asking her; she wouldn’t say yes.
Biting my lip, I walked over to her. I put my arm across her shoulders and squeezed. “I love you, Mom,” I told her in a quiet voice. “I always have and I always will. No matter what, please, don’t forget that.”
She looked over to me, bleary eyed and managed to crack a smile at me. “I love you, too, baby. My beautiful girl.”
I opened my mouth to say more, but nothing else came out. She smiled at me sweetly, clarity finally shining again in her eyes, right alongside the tears.
“I know, baby. You’ve got to go,” she said quietly so Thunder wouldn’t hear us in the next room. “It’s okay. I want you to be happy and you were never the kind of girl who was going to be happy here. I’m sorry I didn’t get you out.”
Biting my lip, I shook my head, “No, Mom, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. I…Come with me?”
She laughed a little then, sort of how I expected, and shook her head. “No. I was made for this place and I need to be close to your father. Don’t you worry, baby. No one’s going to go after your momma anymore. Max’ll make sure of that.”
I nodded once. There was nothing else to say. I’d been prepared to leave her, because I had to, but hearing her choose to stay ate me up in unexpected ways. I nodded once more. Then Thunder came back into the room and announced that Becky was on her way. She’d be there in maybe ten or fifteen minutes. Then he escorted my mom out, promising to get her home safely and come back as soon as he could. He told me if anything happened, if I ran into trouble, to call him right away.
I promised I would.
I made sure they were gone before I grabbed my phone and headed upstairs. Glancing at the screen as I did, I saw I’d received a new message from today. It was from Max.
I’ll be home soon, babe. I’ve just got one last thing to do. xo
I stared at the text for a long time, but ultimately, I closed it and shoved my phone into my pocket. I grabbed a suitcase and threw it onto the bed, before pulling out drawers to grab clothing, any precious jewelry, mementos, anything I would need to start a new life.
Max’s message played over and over again in my head, taunting me. Just one last thing to do.
No, there would always be one last thing with him. One more bad guy. One more initiation. One more scheme or plan or inevitable showdown. The violence would never stop, because it couldn’t. It was impossible with a man like Max and it didn’t matter how much I loved him anymore. I just couldn’t handle that kind of lifestyle. Not after everything that had happened to me, my mother, and my father.
I’d had enough. It was time to go and to go for good.
I called Becky and told her Thunder had made a mistake. Max just came home and she didn’t need to come over anymore. She said was great, wished me the best, and hung up the pho
ne.
I couldn’t even make myself feel guilty for lying to her.
Chapter 28
Max
My guys aren’t the kind of guys you find walking around an office building. Sure, we had a shop that was pretty tidy, all things considered, and we took care of ourselves—most of us, anyway—but in the end, we weren’t the clean, pretty types. The people walking with me as we marched through the front courtyard of the office building downtown were evidence enough of that. They were a rag-tag group, grim and gruesome from our fight with the Slayers, and we looked more than a little out of place.
Some wore leathers. Most wore at the very least their Reaper jacket, though the Vultures, save Blackbird, had all left to return home, claiming the last of this wasn’t their fight anymore. Most wore jeans. There were some who had bandanas tied around their heads, some had sunglasses, and we all had tattoos. The kind that made mother’s cover their children’s eyes and caused the new age feminists to cry foul.
No, we definitely didn’t belong here. For a moment, that worried me. I needed to get into that building and to the seventh floor if I were going to get to this Jones guy, and that was going to be difficult if we got turned away at the front damn door.
Still, we had to try.
I walked in through the front and found a security guard sitting with a donut just inside the front entrance. Next to him and just past the door was a metal detector. They’d know we were armed long before we got to the elevator, much less the seventh floor.
As soon as the security guard caught sight of us, he put down his donut and scrambled to get to an upright position. He was a little on the chunky side and I was pretty sure he hadn’t been through rigorous training in quite a while. There was little doubt in my mind that, if I had to, I could kick his ass and make it to the elevator before he even had the chance to catch his breath.
But I didn’t want to do that. Not unless I had to.
Getting on the wrong side of the law was a dangerous business, and while he wasn’t strictly speaking official police, he was still in a uniform working for the “good guys.” That meant they’d take it personally if I fucked him up.
So I tried for diplomacy instead. “I’m here to see Mr. Jones,” I told him in a cool, pointed voice.
Something akin to relief flashed across his features and he grinned, surprising me. “Oh, yeah, of course. You’re Mr. Jones’s guys. You really had me going there for a minute—you don’t usually come out in force!” He gestured to the men behind me.
I frowned, trying to figure out what the fuck he was talking about when I realized it. He thought we were Slayers. Though our jackets marked us differently, this idiot couldn’t tell one motorcycle club apart from the next. Normally, that might piss me off, but today it was the best thing that could have happened.
My mouth curled into a smile and I nodded. “Yeah, you mind?” I gestured towards the metal detector.
The man laughed nervously. “Oh, of course. I know, you’re all covered with 'metal.'” He winked awkwardly. “Wouldn’t want to make you, you know, strip or anything!” He laughed heartily, but nervously. It was like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to let us through with guns or not. I could have told him he would be an idiot to let us through either way, but I didn’t. In the end, he must have decided it was just too reckless to let us go up there with weapons, because he pulled me aside.
In a hushed whisper, he said, “You know I can’t do that. Strict policy. No one with guns goes up, you know. Mr. Jones’s always been like that.”
Silently, I weigh my options. If I leave now, I’ll tip him off. If I do as I’m asked, I’ll be up there defenseless with only half the information. Ultimately, I jerked a thumb back towards the guys. “They’ll stay behind. It oughta be private business anyway, right?”
The rent-a-cop looked relieved and nodded his head immediately in agreement. “Yes, exactly. Um, your firearm?”
I hesitated, then gave it to Blackbird behind me, sending him a sharp look with it. He nodded only once in answer. Forcing a smile, I turned back to the officer. “Anything else?”
“Just step on through.”
I hesitated a second longer, then stepped through. It didn’t go off. I headed the rest of the way to the elevator, not looking back. The guys knew what to do. The place was covered. If anything went wrong, I’d have it taken care of on the outside at least.
Then he waved me off and wished me luck. “You say hi to Mr. Jones for me! Great guy. Real great guy.”
I said nothing, because, if I said anything, it was going to end with a punch to that fat pig’s face. Normally, I didn’t have a problem with the police, but if that rent-a-cop thought Mr. Jones was a great guy, he was a piece of shit by default.
I got into the elevator, making sure no one came in with me. I sent a nod Blackbird’s way before I pressed the button for the seventh floor. As the doors closed, silence settled in for a brief moment—only to be filled by the annoying sounds of elevator music.
# # #
When I reached the top floor—seven—I was met by two guards. Big, beefy guys in sharp black suits wearing sunglasses, despite being inside. I couldn’t see their eyes, so it was impossible to say if they were looking at me or not, but one of them spoke into his cuff.
“Sir, the Slayers are here to see you.”
There was a crackling sound, then the same man said, “Yes, sir.” To me he said, “Mr. Jones isn’t here. He’s already on his way downstairs. I’m afraid you’ll have to reschedule your meeting with him.”
I considered busting through the two guards and ransacking the man’s office, but I didn’t really see the point. He was headed downstairs; that was the whole goal anyway. Although I’d taken seven guys with me—all of whom were now waiting on the ground floor, heading outside to take different positions—I’d left the rest of my guys outside.
Mr. Jones leaving wasn’t a problem; it was a plus.
Smiling, I nodded once at the men. “Absolutely.”
By the time I went downstairs, Mr. Jones was already headed to his car and my men were on the verge of action. I’d have to hurry my ass up if I didn’t want to get caught up in it.
I passed the officer without so much as a glance, even as he called after me, informing me Mr. Jones had just left. Up ahead, I saw a businessman flanked by four men, dressed just like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum upstairs. I was willing to bet this was Mr. Jones. I stepped outside into the daylight and took a sharp left turn, heading towards a coffee shop that wasn’t even a block down the road. As I did, I pulled out my cell phone.
“That’s him,” I said into it, then slammed it shut.
They would do the rest.
I reached the coffee shop and slipped inside when the first shot fired. Instantly, there was mayhem. It was everywhere, inside and outside of the shop, but I’d found a seat by the window and was staring out at the fray with cool eyes. Bullets were already flying. My guys had been set up around the perimeter of the office building, lying in wait until Mr. Jones came out. We weren’t sure of his schedule, so I was supposed to go up and give him an excuse to come down.
Apparently that part hadn’t been necessary.
Once he left the building, flanked by the guards we knew would be there, the men would take him out as I got clear.
Part of me had wanted to be out in the mess, determined to make sure this all went down the way it was supposed to, but before I’d even declared my intentions, everyone had told me it wasn’t smart.
Who’s gonna lead us then?
What about your old lady? Lucy?
What about the club, man? You gonna leave us hanging like that?
My boys were determined to keep me alive for their own sakes, but as I sat there watching the madness outside, I realized something else about myself: I wasn’t sure I wanted this anymore. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be out in the middle of it.
I thought back to what Lucy had told me just over a week ago—it felt like forever, thoug
h—and realized she’d been right all along.
I’m tired of the violence. I’m tired of the fear. I…I want us to be in a better place.
She’d wanted us to go that night, to run away. I knew it, but I wasn’t ready to handle it, not then. And then the Preacher had gone up and it was all shot to hell. I ignored what she wanted, because I wasn’t ready for it.
Then she asked for the cabin. It was another way to tell me she needed a way out, an escape. She was done with this life, but I thought, A cabin, of course. That’s the answer. A home away from home where we can be normal.
But it didn’t work. I was a fool to have thought it ever would.
My eyes were drawn back to the scene unfolding outside. I was losing people, my friends, some close enough to be like family to me. I saw Blackbird take a bullet to the chest, crumpling to his knees. He spit blood from his mouth, struggling to stay up, but he couldn’t. He fell the rest of the way to the ground and didn’t move. I clenched my jaw, wishing I could look away, but unwilling to at the same time. The least I could give these men was my undivided attention.