Scenic Route

by D. D. Prince

  “Mostly?” I asked.

  He smiled a tight smile.

  “Not asking,” I said.

  “Things’re gonna be quiet for a bit. The last three local members of the Jackals, patched over. A friendly non-hostile patch-over. The ones left, hand-picked. Other Jackals charters in other cities besides here and The Falls? Bein’ given limited options. Jackals are no more.”

  “So Nico intentionally shot Alison, right?” My eyes were on Nico. He looked at me and gave me a tight smile.

  I waved.

  His smile broadened and he turned back to talk to the other bikers in his huddle, including Skip, Pudge, and Bronto.

  “He did. He had to have blood or they’d have known he wasn’t on side. He lied to them and said one of his bullets caught one of our women, too, and that bought us time. He was instrumental in helpin’ us keep Fork informed, helpin’ Edge get Mantis.”

  “But, a girl lost her use of her legs.”

  “Yep. That girl was turnin’ on The Brotherhood. Meant you harm. In cahoots with the bitch formerly known as my mother. No remorse, Pip.”

  “Now you’ve got two sharpshooters.”

  “Yep.”

  “And Bronto isn’t a prospect any longer.”

  “Nope. It was me that put the vote forth for him and Scoot to get their patches last night.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “He know that?” I inquired.

  “He was there, Sunshine.”

  Hm. Now maybe Bronto would realize what a good guy Spencer was.

  “So, maybe Bronto won’t have much dirty work to do,” I mused.

  “Hopefully we can all live quiet with no dirty work for a good long while. But, if there’s work to be done, we’ve got skills in the club to protect what matters to us.”

  I glanced over at the crowd. Many of them were eyeing Jesse and Gia, who were still standing there with their arms round one another. Jesse was speaking softly to her. She was chewing on her lip, looking up into his eyes. Looking up at him with a smitten look in her eyes. He was pretty damn hot. So was she. The plum hair suited her.

  “What about that?” I gestured in that direction with my chin.

  “Looks like Jess made his declaration. Brothers’ll respect it. Might take her time to win all you girls over, I’m guessin.’”

  “Hm. Well, I’ll be cool with her.”

  “Marlena’s out of the woods. Hopefully she will be cool, too. Sara, Skip’s woman? Not sure about her. She’s got some pretty sharp talons.”

  “Haven’t met her yet.”

  “She’s over there.” He gestured to a group of women standing by the bikes. Jojo was there with them. So was Leah, Axel’s woman, who I guess had come to show support. A few catty gazes were aimed Gianna’s way.

  “So, Christian Forker and Nico and…”

  “Justice. Yep. They’re in. One of their prospects, too, Bick. He’ll be here soon. He’s runnin’ an errand. Got a new prospect too, Nolan, moved here from the Falls. Prospecting for them just a few months but movin’ here since Bront and Scoot are fully patched as of today.”

  “Yo, Spency…” Rider called over, bare chested with a sponge in his hand. “Got bikes to wash.”

  The photographer was snapping pictures. Bikes to wash and fantasies to fuel. Wow. There was a lot of muscles on display by the bike and car wash area. A lot of wet muscles on display.

  “Got bikes to wash,” Spencer said, smiling and showing me his dimple. He passed me his leather jacket and pulled off his t-shirt. I took that, too.

  He planted a soft kiss on my mouth.

  “Mm.” I watched him walk away. Damn, but his shoulders and back muscles were sexy.

  ***

  Ella and Jojo were at the food station, selling burgers, hot dogs, and drinks.

  Jenna, and I were at the face painting station, under a canopy working on kids’ faces and also watching in astonishment as Pudge entertained the kids with his balloon animals. I’d painted his clown face on (around his beard) and at that point, I’d seen that he had a Chaplain patch on the side of his Dominion Brotherhood jacket.

  That was when I also spotted Jan Reardon, who was making her way toward me. My stomach dipped.

  She stood back, waiting for me to finish with the little boy who now had his face painted like Deadpool’s mask, though I really didn’t think a kid that small should know who Deadpool was. The kid was thrilled with the results.

  The look on Jan’s face did not say good things.

  Jenna looked at me with concern. Spencer, a little soggy from washing cars and bikes came over, also looking concerned. He grabbed his t-shirt from the spot behind the table where my and Jenna’s bags were sitting, along with Spencer’s and Rider’s shirts and leather jackets. He put his t-shirt on and got right beside me, wrapping his arm around my waist and leveling her with his dark fire-breathing dragon look.

  She stepped up and she glared at him like he was dirt, and my nervous stomach started to shift to where I was feeling angry. Why was she looking at him that way?

  “Pippa, I’m sorry to bother you here, but I need to speak with you. Can we talk someplace private?”

  “No.” Spencer shook his head.

  She glared at him. “I was speaking with Pippa.”

  “You don’t need to speak with Pippa, certainly not with your face in bitch mode like that. You think I’m gonna let you guilt her for puttin’ your piece of shit son in jail?”

  I put my arm around Spencer’s waist and gave his shirt a tug.

  “Babe,” I said with a warning tone. “Chill. Watch your language, too. There’s little kids nearby.” I looked at Jan. “What do you need to talk to me about, Jan?”

  “Him,” she said pointedly, glaring at Spencer. “He’s bad news. You need to know what he gets up to before you get too serious.”

  Jenna looked over. “We’ve had an all-day lineup. We’ve got three kids left who still need their faces painted. You wanna spout your biker bigot poison quick, Jan, so Pippa can get on with her day and her happily ever after?”

  Jenna summoned the next child up to sit in the chair.

  “Happily ever after? With him?” Jan sneered. “I doubt it.”

  “What’s your problem with me?” Spencer demanded.

  “You’re the reason my son’s in jail,” Jan accused.

  What was she trying to pull here?

  Jan’s eyes moved to me.

  “Where do you think his problem with drugs started? The night you guys met Spencer was where it started, when Spencer asked him to find him some cocaine because he was new in town and hadn’t met any local connections yet. Joey told me this himself. Said you’d remember if it was mentioned. Said Spencer was drunk and told him their club was moving cocaine and heroin, but he couldn’t buy from the club as his father and brothers would get pissy with him if they found out he was using it. The two of them got high constantly for the first few weeks they were friends. Cocaine wasn’t all they used, either. Lots of heavy drugs.”

  My own voice, my own words to Ella back in the very beginning rang out.

  “Maybe Spencer is a coke head with delusions.”

  I was absorbing this news, this news that Spencer’s seeking out drugs was the beginning of Joe’s spiral out of control.

  I looked to Spencer for confirmation and got it with the look on his face. Spencer’s glare had melted, and he was looking at me. He looked sick to his stomach as his eyes roved my face, searching it.

  Jan started to speak again. “Yeah. You needed to know. Joey said he’s been trying to get messages to you.”

  “I don’t care what he has to say,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I need to get on with my life.”

  “If it weren’t for him,” she glared at Spencer, “he wouldn’t have fallen off the wagon. He said he knows you’ll never take him back. Have you read the suicide note?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Well, please read it. I’ll resend i
t.”

  “I have it.”

  “Read it. He’s promising us that he won’t kill himself, but he wants you to know why he tried. I just came from seeing him. He says he’s going to plead guilty; he won’t put you through the trial. They might only give him two years, and he might get out early with good behavior. That’s what his lawyer thinks. He’s in counseling. He’s on suicide watch. He just wants you safe now. Safe from him.” She glared at Spencer.

  Spencer grabbed my hand and held it tight. I didn’t look at him. I could feel his hand trembling as he held it tight. Too tight.

  “You needed to know, Pippa. I trust you’re smart enough to know that being with him would be no better than being with Joey. Probably worse, because not only does he do drugs, but he’s also a criminal.” She gave Spencer another glare. “Thanks for sending those tickets for Penny. I’m taking her tonight. I’ll tell her afterwards that they were from you. She’ll get over it. Be well, Pippa.” She turned and left.

  I stood there. Processing.

  “I got these last three,” Jenna whispered and gave my shoulder a squeeze.

  Jan got into her car and drove away.

  I let go of his hand and turned to look at him. Guilt was all over his face. I shook my head in disgust and spun to grab my purse.

  “Sunshine.” His voice sounded choked.

  I grabbed my purse and my jacket, and I walked to my car, which had been parked by the bike dealership since before Easter. I hadn’t driven it in what felt like forever.

  I found my keys in my purse. I started it up. I didn’t look at him, but knew he was right behind me.

  I pulled out and as I exited the parking lot, I saw he was following me on his motorcycle.

  God. God.

  I growled at the windshield and drove toward my parents’ house.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  ***

  I pulled into the driveway; he stopped on the street.

  I didn’t look at him, didn’t speak to him. I got out with my bag and my coat and headed up the stairs to the door.

  “Hello, Philippa. Your parents aren’t home.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Shubert,” I said without looking across at her standing out on her porch.

  I punched the code into the door and went inside and closed it and locked it, knowing he was behind me.

  The house was empty. It was a Saturday, late afternoon. Where was my mom?

  I texted.

  “Where are you?”

  I got a glass of water and drank it down. I got a second glass and drank it down, too. My phone made noise.

  Mom: “Took a road trip with Dad to Milwaukee. Left you a voicemail saying we are canceling Sunday dinner. Be back Sunday night. Is everything okay?”

  Me: “All good. Have fun!”

  I even put a happy face for good measure.

  Sometimes she would do runs with Dad in his truck and they’d make a romantic weekend of it. I was glad she wasn’t here, really. I could have some space to think.

  ***

  Two hours later, in my old room (now the guestroom), my phone rang. I was going to ignore it.

  I was figuring it was Spencer. Luckily, I glanced at the screen.

  The Brown County States Attorney’s office was on the caller ID, strangely on a Saturday. I answered, feeling my heart race as I did.

  The DA’s office told me that Joe’s lawyer had asked for a special call to be made to me to inform me Joe was pleading guilty, meaning he’d soon go before a judge for sentencing. I would not have to testify but I could make a victim impact statement if I wanted to so that the judge took it into account.

  Victim impact? What kind of impact had Joe’s actions had on my life? And did I want to live my life being known as a victim?

  No. I was done with Joe. Done being a victim.

  At least he was gifting me with not having to go to court. I guess he figured he’d hurt me enough.

  It was dark out and I heard a motorcycle. Did Spencer leave? I looked outside and saw that nope, he hadn’t. Spencer was sitting on the front step and Brady stood with him. Spencer had a bottle of JD in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and he was drinking straight from the bottle, looking miserable. Brady, standing there talking to him, spotted me in the window and jerked his chin up, a concerned look on his face. I turned away and stared at the ceiling and shook my head. I stood for two minutes and then hearing Brady drive away, I went back upstairs and climbed back into my old bed with my phone.

  I opened my photos and enlarged the picture of Joe’s suicide letter, deciding to finally read it.

  To my Family and my Pippa

  I thought alcohol was my demon. It turns out, drugs were the real devil that grabbed my throat and wouldn’t let go. I fucked everything up. They made me hurt the best thing that ever happened to me. I can’t look at myself in the mirror without seeing how you must’ve seen me, Pippa. I can tell you for sure that I hate that guy in the mirror and don’t wanna look at him no more. Mom, Grampa, Penny, you’re better without me. I’m sorry to let you all down. Sorry I was just like Dad. I wish I wasn’t. I’m doing you all a favor here and saving you from more pain. I know it’s gonna hurt for a little while but believe me, its better this way.

  Pippa I never wanted this. I don’t deserve to be loved. I’m weak and I’ll relapse. I’ll disappoint people. I see my future and don’t want it. I hope you believe that I loved you, Pippa. Everything about you. Every single thing. I would’ve been the luckiest man to spend my life with you. Thank you for forgiving me last time. I didn’t deserve it and now I wish you hadn’t. I won’t ever be worthy after what I did THIS time. I can’t believe it happened. It wasn’t me. It was that devil that got control of me AND HE SCARES ME. HE WILL DO ANYTHING FOR THAT RUSH that comes from being high. Please believe me when I say it killed me to see what I did to you.

  Penny… never ever date a guy like me. I never want to see you heartbroken like I know I broke Pippa’s. I’m really sorry to let you down. I’m big and strong in your eyes but in reality I’m weak and pathetic. Stop being angry at Pippa. I did this. She just made the mistake of loving me so much that she was blind to the truth. KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN WHEN YOU FALL FOR SOMEONE. Especially if you fall hard. The harder you fall, the easier it is for them to hurt you again and again. Don’t let love make you blind. Listen to the music list I made for you. It’s on my computer. Password pgrifjrea95

  Ma… You tried. You sent me to counseling. You tried to give me positive role models with Grampa. Love you grampa. Sorry to let you down. I’m just wired like him I guess. I want you all to be free of my bullshit forever so that’s why I’m going. I’m sorry.

  Love you all.

  Joe

  I didn’t feel sorry for Joe. I was glad he wasn’t dead. Maybe I’d have felt differently if I was reading that after a successful suicide, but I felt cold and detached and more than a little sour.

  He made his choice to do drugs. Maybe it was cold of me, maybe I couldn’t truly understand because I wasn’t “wired” that way.

  People overcame adversity. People changed. He was being a cop-out. I loved him enough to give him another chance. I loved him enough to keep on trying even when he made the mistake of falling off the wagon.

  At least he was sparing me a trial. Then again, maybe that was a cop-out, too, because he was skipping the part where he’d have to listen to me and the prosecutor talk about what he’d done. So, maybe he wasn’t sparing me further pain. Maybe it was just another cop-out.

  Honestly, though, I was ready to wipe my hands of him. I really was. Finally deleting the letter felt like closure.

  ***

  The doorbell was ringing. It was midnight. I hadn’t been sleeping. I’d just been staring off into space, the pendant of my necklace in my mouth.

  I went to the door and looked out and saw Mrs. Shubert there. I opened the door. Spencer was sitting on the porch, back against the house where he’d been earlier when I’d seen him with Brady, the JD bottle still in h
is hand, the new boots I’d bought him on his feet. The watch I’d bought him on his wrist.

  “Yes, Mrs. Shubert?”

  “Let him in so he can say sorry for whatever he’s sorry for. It’s too cold for him to sleep on the stoop.”

  “He can sleep on the stoop, Mrs. Shubert,” I said. “Don’t worry about him.”

  “Philippa Christine Griffin, don’t go bein’ daft. This boy’s drowning his sorrows on your stoop and either let him in or call the police since I told him to go and he says he won’t. This is ridiculous.”

  “Sorry, Mrs. Shubert, but I’m going back to bed. You want him to have a warm place to sleep, feel free to let him sleep in your house. Goodnight.”

  I shut the door and locked it. I’d never been so dismissive to her before. But I didn’t have it in me to feel bad about it.

  Not long later, I heard footsteps. Inside. Oh shit.

  “Juss me,” he slurred as he came into the doorway of my darkened room. “Missus Shu gave me the doorknob code. Wasn’t gonna use it, Shunshine, but I hadda take a piss. She said if she saw me pissin’ on the grass again she was gonna hit me with her cane.”

  I gritted my teeth.

  “Can’t go and leave you Shunshine. I can’t breathe if I don’t know you’re safe.”

  He stood there, swaying.

  “What are you doing, Spencer?” I groaned with more than a hint of exasperation.

  “I can’t leave and not know if you’re safe. I know almost all-a the Jackals are in jail or in the ground, but I’m still… I… I’m just givin’ you space but keepin’ you safe, too. Am gonna go sleep on your ma’s couch. That okay? Can’t drive. And can’t not be where you are. Gonna go piss and sleep on the couch after. Okay?”

  “Whatever,” I grumbled and turned over and pulled the blankets up higher.

  He wandered off.

  A minute later, after I heard the toilet flush, then footsteps again, he was back.

  “Baby?”

  “What?” I groaned.

  “I’m gonna sleep on your floor right here. I just wanna be near you. Wanna hear you breathe while you sleep.”

  I heard him plop onto the floor beside my bed. I rolled my eyes.

  I was fuming mad. So mad I was grinding my teeth together, making my jaw ache.