by Zoey Parker
“You know, you always taught me that guys like Blade were thugs, and you’re turning out to be the real thug here,” I cried to my father.
“When you operate at my level, dear, thug isn’t the word. I’m not even a criminal anymore. They call people like me businessmen. I’m able to pull off what normally takes motorcycle gangs, well-organized street gangs, or the mafia. But because I know how to make business arrangements work in my favor, I only rely on a few employees to watch my back while I make things happen. No one is permanently tied to me,” he explained with sadistic delight in his voice.
“We’re here,” the driver said, pulling up to the back of the building and parking almost right next to the door.
The door swung open, and a man stood there in green scrubs with a mask over his mouth and nose. I figured he must have been the doctor who was going to perform the procedure.
“All right, let’s get her inside,” my father said to his men. Then, he turned to me and added, “If you run, I may lose more than a grandchild today. I told you not to get involved with those street thug bikers.” He shook his head as if he had already been practicing how he was going to look to the cops.
“I can’t believe you,” I said flatly. “You are no longer my father.”
“Thank you, Lucy. You just made this so much easier.” He turned and climbed out of the car as the driver opened my door and snatched me out by my hair with gloved hands.
“Be careful. We don’t want to hurt the baby yet,” he cautioned his men as they handled me and forced me into the building. He nodded at the doctor as he walked in ahead of us.
The doctor closed the door behind us after the men got me inside. They led me to a room at his direction. We were in the back of the office, and it was quiet other than us. I realized I hadn’t seen any cars up front.
“What, did you close the office early?” I snapped at the doctor behind me.
“After today, child, I could retire if I wanted to,” he said in a muffled voice from behind the face mask.
I wanted to tell him he probably should have retired if he was considering doing something illegal, but at the same time, I didn’t want to talk to the man who was about to take my baby from me. There was nothing I could have said with more weight than money, I knew. Besides, it was hard to focus with hands on me, pushing me, making me walk.
“Ready?” one of the men asked the other.
One grabbed my ankles while the other grabbed me under my arms. I tried to fight and protest but they had a good grip on me. They picked me up and put me on the operating table.
“Secure her so she can’t hurt herself,” the doctor said.
“How often do you do this?” I asked him.
“Every day,” he answered with a touch of humor in his voice.
“No, jackass, I mean this, performing backroom abortions against the mother’s will.”
All he did was wink. My heart sank. These men were the real criminals.
I looked around for Bryan. I hate that he had become that, that he had become someone who was no longer my father. He stood by the door and just watched as they forced me down on the table and put my wrists and ankles in restraints.
“Are you just going to stand there and watch?” I asked him.
“Unless it gets too nasty. Then, I’ll probably step outside,” he said nonchalantly, as if the girl on the table in front of him wasn’t even his daughter. He’d abandoned me. I didn’t know when, but he’d abandoned me.
I blinked back my tears and looked up at the ceiling. I stopped fighting. There was no use in it. If I kept fighting I was going to hurt my son. I closed my eyes as tears ran down my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I said aloud, choking on my words.
“Now you apologize,” he said.
“I don’t think she’s talking to you,” the doctor said.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. You were supposed to be born. You were supposed to grow up and be happy. You even had a man waiting for you, who had promised to be your dad. And he would have been a great dad. I’m so sorry,” I told my unborn child. Tears were streaming down the sides of my face, and I lost my voice. I cleared my throat and stopped talking. I couldn’t say anything else.
“Can you do something to make her shut up?” Bryan asked the doctor.
“I could,” he answered, “but I think she’s done.” There was a hint of sorrow in his voice, as if I’d touched him.
He took a breath and looked around the room. He put a gentle hand on my arm and gave me a light squeeze, letting me know he understood, or at least sympathized. He can’t sympathized too much, I thought. He’s still about to kill my unborn child.
“Okay, before we get started, I’ve got to run some tests to make sure we’re okay to move forward,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I have to ask everyone to step out into the hallway.”
I heard a gun cock and looked over to see Bryan holding a gun up at the doctor.
“We’ll stand out in the hallway, but you better not try anything stupid, doc. We’ll be watching you.”
“I’ll leave the door open. I just need to check on the baby and make sure our patient is healthy enough to withstand the procedure,” he said, holding his hands up passively.
Bryan looked at the two men with him. He jerked his head toward the door to send them outside before he lowered his gun and backed away. The doctor waited until the three of them were out of the room before moving toward his equipment. He grabbed a monitor and pulled it over next to me.
“Okay, bear with me here. We’re going to take a look at the baby for a moment just to get a look at what we’re dealing with,” he said. “You don’t have to see anything. I know it’s a tender situation right now, so I don’t have to do anything to make it worse.”
“If you’re going to do this, I don’t want to know anything,” I told him, my voice still racked with my sobbing. It was still hard to talk.
“I’ll make this as comfortable as possible,” he assured me.
He performed an ultrasound to get an image of the baby. As much as I wanted to look at the monitor to see what he was seeing, I didn’t want to traumatize myself even more.
“Wow,” he said, sounding almost troubled.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Yes.” He sighed. “A little too okay. If you will, excuse me, please.”
My nerves were shot to hell, but I could still feel the surge of nervous energy as he got up and walked away from me, leaving the room. He pulled the door mostly closed behind him. There was a seriousness in his stride, and as I watched, I almost felt relieved. I got the distinct feeling he was trying to get out of the procedure.
I strained my ears to listen to the voices outside the door. I caught snippets of their voices as they talked. I wasn’t sure of exactly what I was hearing, but there were a few phrases that seemed to jump out at me.
“…too far along.”
“I’m paying you…”
“…thought you said… earlier…”
“Get back in there.”
I heard Bryan’s voice get louder, and the gun cocked again.
“I’m sorry, but I’m a professional, Mr. Smithfield. I can’t,” the doctor protested.
“Then why did you agree to this anyway?” Bryan was hissing and growling at him at the same time.
“I didn’t realize how far along your daughter was. I’m sorry, but my moral convictions won’t let me do this, not in good conscience,” I heard the doctor continue protesting.
“So did you agree to it to mislead me?” Bryan asked.
He pushed the doctor back into the room with his gun pressed into his chest.
“I’ve paid for your services, and you’re going to provide them, whether you agree with what I want you to do or not. You’ve already agreed to the money, and my moral convictions tell me that you better deliver the services you promised me.” He pushed the doctor against the operating table while he was ordering him back into the room.
“Okay, okay. I’ll do the procedure,” the doctor agreed.
“Good. Now stop wasting time,” Bryan said. He pushed the doctor one more time. I imagined he used the gun to shove him back, but I didn’t know for sure, as he was standing on the other side of the doctor and I couldn’t see him.
When the doctor gathered himself and turned around, I saw Bryan standing against the wall next to the door. The other two men stood on the other side of it. They were all inside the room now instead of standing out of it in the hallway.
The doctor shot me a knowing look as he gathered the ultrasound equipment and pushed it back against the wall. He wasn’t finished trying to help me. He still had something else up his sleeve.
He came back and stood by side for just a moment. He was wrapping a blood pressure cuff around my arm. At the same time, he loosened the strap on my wrist enough that I could get my hand out of it.
“Gentlemen, I have some equipment that we need to get from the other room,” he told Bryan and his two associates after he finished acting like he was taking my blood pressure.
He walked out, and Bryan’s two associates followed. Bryan stood and looked at me nervously before backing out of the room to follow them.
I was alone.
It was time to go.
Chapter 33
Blade
“That’s Ghost territory,” Liza said when I told her where the abortion clinic was. “I’ll have to talk to them and make sure it’s not going to cause any problems for you guys to move in on that clinic.”
“Look, let me talk to them with you. I want them to know I don’t mean them any disrespect by bringing guys into their area to handle something like this,” I explained. There was a code. No matter how wrong this doctor was, if we made a move in another MC’s territory without getting the all clear to do so first, we opened the door for retaliation. At the very least, we had to let them know what we were doing and why.
“Also, I know Ace, their president. You might want to get Brick to talk to him for you. He’s going to wonder why you’re talking instead. He’s going to think something’s up, Blade, and you don’t want him breathing down your neck,” Liza explained.
It struck me that for a lawyer, she was very involved in MC politics and business. I figured that was what made her effective as a lawyer for us outlaws.
“Got it. I’ll let Brick know,” I conceded. I had to remind myself sometimes that I wasn’t in a position to handle every situation. I wasn’t even our spokesperson.
“Okay, I’ll give Ace a call and have him reach out to you,” she said.
“Great. There’s something else I need help with,” I said quickly, trying to keep her on the phone long enough to make sure we covered the real reason I called.
“What’s up?”
“We can’t count on local law enforcement with this. As we’ve already seen, Mr. Smithfield is paying off the local guys. He’s got them in his pocket. If we try to call them and let them know what’s going on, all they’ll do is let him know we’re on our way. That could really put Lucy in danger.”
“Not to mention what that could do for the Vicious Thrills and the Ghosts,” Liza added. “I’ve got some connections at the state and federal level.” She paused for a moment, and I could almost hear her thoughts as she considered other options. “I think I’ll do better to call my FBI contacts and see if anyone is in the area.”
I sighed. This all sounded like it was going to take too long. “Look. We’re going to start moving,” I told her. “How quickly can this happen?”
“I don’t know. It could take ten minutes, could take a couple of hours, depending on how available everyone is,” she explained.
“Fine. We’ll get in position, and I’ll put everyone with me on standby,” I said. I knew moving ahead wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had, but I really didn’t give a shit. If everything on Liza’s end didn’t work out, I would just have to be prepared to ask for forgiveness instead of permission.
“I’ll leave that out when I talk to people on this end,” she said, and I could hear the smile across her face. “A lot of guys would write people off for this sort of thing. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Thanks. I’m already in the middle of it, though. I’m just trying to get out,” I told her and hung up.
“Hey, brother, we’re ready,” Robby told me.
“Okay, let’s get into position. We’re going to surround the clinic, and we’re going to wait for word from the Ghosts. We’re going into their territory with this. Also, Liza is calling the FBI to see if we can’t get some agents on Lucy’s dad and the doctor agreeing to do this procedure,” I explained.
“How do you know the doctor’s agreeing to it?” Robby asked.
“I’ve learned a little bit about our boy Bryan Smithfield here lately. That doctor’s going to agree to it, one way or another. Money or force, just like with us.” I patted him on the back and sent him back to the main room with the guys on their bikes while I went back to get Brick.
“Is everything good to go?” Brick asked.
“I need you to come with us,” I told him. “We’re going into Ghost territory, and Liza’s trying to get ahold of their president to make sure we don’t have any trouble, but he’s going to want to talk to you.”
“All right. I’ll ride,” he said. Brick took a very comfortable role as president. He wasn’t as active as he had been when he started the MC, and no one blamed him for it. He’d seen a lot of things go wrong in his time, so he sat back and sort of guided us like an elder most of the time. Hatchet was pretty lax as his VP most of the time, too, leaving most of the MC functions to myself and Robby.
We didn’t mind handling business – shit, that was why were there. But when I saw the tired look on his face when it was time to ride out, I wondered why Brick didn’t just step down and hand his and his son’s positions over to us. Hatchet wasn’t old enough to be VP. He didn’t know how shit worked. Robby and I had been in the thick of it since day one.
Everyone looked to us for guidance before they went to Brick anyway.
We walked out to find Robby and a handful of guys ready to go. We knew we didn’t need many. It was going to be a small, quick job. We were hopefully going to have some sort of law enforcement to back us up. And to top it all off, I was sure Liza was going to get us in with her guys in the Ghosts so we would be likely to have backup from them, as well.
We rode out on our motorcycles, knowing the noise would alert Lucy’s dad to our presence before we even showed up at the clinic. I hoped it instilled in him a sense of fear to hear us coming.
He’d fucked up. A lot. And it was time to pay for what he’d done.
The clinic was a small, squat building. It looked closed as we made our first pass, but I caught a glimpse of a black SUV, like a Suburban or something, sitting out behind the building. As we passed the first time, we saw two men dressed like Secret Service agents stepping out of the back door and pulling guns out of their jacket pockets.
I laughed to myself. They thought those little pea shooters were going to intimidate us. We had guys behind us with fully automatic assault rifles strapped across their backs. Those kids had no idea what they were doing, waiting for us with little handguns.
They knew we were there, though, and that was good. We pulled around the block after assessing the perimeter. It looked like the only people were there were Mr. Smithfield and the doctor, Dr. Snyder.
We pulled into the parking lot. A few of the guys parked by the main entrance to the parking lot and pulled out their rifles to cover the rest of us as we moved to the back, in case the lackeys came out with their guns drawn on us.
We pulled to the edge of the parking lot, with Mr. Smithfield’s goons training their guns on us. They hadn’t fired, and they surely could have squeezed a couple of shots off before anyone got them. We weren’t ready to drop them, not like that. I still wanted to give Ace a chance to call us.
We parked, k
illed our bikes, and waited. I held my hand up to hold everyone back. The suits looked at each other as if they were confused about what we were doing.
My phone rang, and I pulled it out to find a number I didn’t recognize calling me. I handed the phone to Brick and swiped to accept the call.
“This is Brick,” my president said. He sat and listened quietly for a moment with a contemplative look on his face.