Roll Me Away: A Smokey's Roadhouse Novel

by Jacobs, Jessa

  What that meant was I needed to speak with Carl alone. I hadn’t had a chance to tell him about the interrogation I’d been through. For that matter, I hadn’t said anything about the intimidation the MC had tried. Zach said Carl wasn’t a member of the club, so I knew he had no leverage with them.

  Nevertheless, the two of us needed to do something to get those drug charges laid at the feet of the right person. Zach had said Carl would never go against the club because of his business with them. I needed to use what leverage I could to make him understand where his rightful loyalties lay.

  It had taken more than a week, but finally all was in readiness for Zach to come home. I don’t know who was more excited, Zach, his mom, or me. In the days between getting the news that he could be discharged as soon as we had a place for him and getting the room ready, I visited daily with Dr. Wang’s assistance.

  Each day, Zach and I shared more of our fears and our hopes. Maybe what did it was the conversations that some couples never face and we had to because of his injury. Maybe it was because both of us felt we owed the other something, and that made for more honest communications.

  Whatever did it, that week brought us closer to what I thought of as true love and commitment than I could have believed possible. It helped when he told me how he’d shocked the occupational therapist with his idea for something to help with our sex life. Because he told me in no uncertain terms we’d have one. In fact, he expected to start that particular project as soon as he got home.

  All of us were terribly disappointed then, when the state got involved with dictating his care, and his caseworker insisted he spend some time in a rehab facility first. To our disappointment, Dr. Wang sided with them. It seemed Zach’s progress in the hospital hadn’t been what Dr. W hoped, and he thought a more intensive program would be of benefit.

  “How long?” I asked.

  “At least three months, with the possibility of three more,” Dr. W. said.

  When he left, I went to Zach, and for the first time since he’d been there, crawled up onto his bed to snuggle against him. “That’s too long,” I said.

  “Cricket, please. Don’t say things like that. I can’t lose you now.”

  “Who said anything about losing me? Help me figure out how to lock or barricade the door. As soon as we don’t have that damn machine telling them every time you get upset or excited, I’m going to rock your world.”

  We both started laughing when the machine went off a few seconds later. I scrambled off the bed just before the nurse came running in. Turning my back so she couldn’t see my face, I tried hard not to giggle as Zach told her he had no idea why his heart had started racing. After she reset the machine and walked out, closing the door behind her, Zach told me she’d looked suspiciously from him to me.

  “She’s onto us, baby,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  After that, I had no control over the giggles that overtook me. “In that case, she won’t be surprised when the damn thing goes off again.” I regained my position on the bed and kissed him, slowly and thoroughly. Somehow he maintained his heart rate just below the level that would set off the alarm. I got confirmation then and there that, as he put it, his dick still worked, even though we didn’t dare test the limits.

  Cricket

  While Zach settled in at the rehab facility, I found a chance to talk to Carl alone one evening when I urged Rose to go and see Zach without me for some mother/son time.

  “Carl, I’d like to talk with you, if I may,” I said, as soon as Rose left the house.

  “I figured you had something up your sleeve. So, get it off your chest, whatever it is.”

  “I know more about the Dust Devils and your business than you may be aware of,” I began. “And I know about the crack in the saddlebags.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not threatening you. I want to know if you have any influence with them. Zach can’t go to prison in his condition.”

  “Yeah, that would suck,” he answered.

  “It would more than suck. You know it better than I do, I suspect. Carl, Zach needs us to help him. I’ll do whatever I need to do, if you’ll help me get those charges dropped, or laid at Jake’s door. Zach really had no idea that shit was on the bike, and I think you know that. So why did you carry the message that he had to take the rap, and why did you tell him it was meth?”

  “Not sure if it’s any of your business, sister. But what do you think I can do?”

  “For starters, tell me how you got involved with them?”

  He stared at me for a long while, and I thought the conversation would be over before it even started. There was also a possibility he’d kick me out. After all, he’d paid for the house, even though it was in Rose’s name and I was her guest. When I began to lose hope that he’d help me, his shoulders slumped, and he finally answered.

  “I’m probably going to regret this. How did you find out about any of it?”

  “The police interrogated me. I still don’t know why they let me go after I asked for a lawyer. Zach told me the rest. I promise, Carl, if you help me, I won’t let anything come back on you if I can help it. I just need to know what’s going on.”

  “Okay, I’ll answer your questions. Jake threatened me, and I told Zach it was meth because that’s what Jake told me. I’m guessing he told me that to secure my cooperation, because he also told me if I didn’t get Zach to agree to take the rap, he’d find a way to incriminate me in the whole thing, too, as well as expose the chop shop.”

  The man standing in front of me was not the man Rose worshiped. That guy didn’t exist, but I had no desire to be the one to bring down the illusion. I clenched my back teeth, preventing myself from telling this coward what I thought of him. Instead, once I had control of myself, I fed him the line of bullshit I thought would get him on board with my plan.

  “I get it, Carl. I’m sorry you’re in the middle of this. What can we do?”

  “I can reach out to Sarge. He’s the one I give the cut to, once I sell the bikes they bring in. Jake was too young to handle money on his own when he thought up this scheme.”

  “You mean Jake is behind the chop shop? You didn’t have that going before they came to you?”

  “Hell, no. The first time, I had no idea it wasn’t one of their own. One of the others paid for the modifications and rode it out of there. It wasn’t until they started bringing in too many that I figured it out. After that, I figured I might as well make a profit that made my risks worth taking. Told them I’d sell the bikes, split the take with them. I got more of the money that way.”

  “I see.”

  “It was a surprise to Sarge, too. That kid, Jake, has been a thorn in the side of the club since he was thirteen years old. And I don’t think he’s ever grown up.”

  “Why don’t they kick him out?”

  “His old man’s one of the Originals. They put up with him for Rooster’s sake. Once his old man kicks, he’d better hope he has control of the club, because otherwise the other Originals are likely to take him out.”

  “So, you can’t be involved in taking him down legally, I guess.”

  “You guess right. I don’t want to go to prison any more than the next man does, Cricket. I never envisioned this situation, but it’s more true now than ever. I can’t go down. Rose has no other means of support, and now I need to take care of Zach, too. I’ve been worried sick about him in prison.”

  “So, when you said you could reach out to Sarge, what were you thinking?”

  “I don’t know. Fuck, I don’t know how to think about all this.”

  I could see he wasn’t going to be any help on this, but he might still be able to get some information I needed.

  “Carl, something’s been bugging me since the cops picked me up. They were right there when Jake and his thugs made me think they were going to run me down in the street. I mean, they got to me while I was still standing there in shock. They must have seen what happened, but
they didn’t say a word.

  “Then when I told them I wanted a lawyer, they just stopped the questioning and let me go. I haven’t heard a word since then. Can you find out what’s going on with those charges? And why cops wouldn’t move to protect an innocent citizen from a vicious motorcycle gang?”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking there’s a connection between the club and the cops.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “You got a better explanation?”

  “I’ll talk to Sarge.”

  Twenty-Six

  Sarge

  Even Rooster conceded that his boy had gone too far this time. We’d told him no more drug dealing. What happened with Zach was not only a tragedy for him, but could result in some serious prison time. All Jake cared about was his bike and the loss of income from the meth being impounded as evidence. However, he was Rooster’s son, and the star of our other business. We had no choice but to rally around him and make sure he wasn’t touched by the mess.

  Carl had told me the cops found cocaine, but I knew better. Jake had cooked meth before, and only stopped when we leaned on him. I didn’t know why he and the cops were lying to Carl. On the other hand, it did mean he had some way of persuading them to do what he wanted.

  Jake and his crew had already made it clear that Zach was to take the rap. I wasn’t so sure the fix was in. As much as I hated dealing with them, I told Jake I had to talk with his connection, who he’d implied was cartel. Only after his dad and I shook him down about cooking meth in the compound around the women and kids did he admit the connection was just a courier, and the deal had been arranged by the buyer.

  After strutting around like his old man’s namesake for a while, he arranged a meeting. The fucker’s name was Juan Smith, or so he claimed. It was possible. He was at least part Latino, from his looks. He threw a Spanish word into every sentence or three. But his accent was pure California. We met him in Rawlins, and I lied through my teeth when Jake introduced me.

  “Good to meet you, Juan.”

  “What can I do for you, esse? Jake here says you have a problem in Rawlins?”

  “Jake here has the problem, and I understand it may impact your business as well. I’m here to learn if we can cooperate in some way to make the problem go away.” I looked him in the eye, standing up for my status in the conversation. I didn’t like this guy even before I met him. His cocky attitude didn’t change that.

  “You want us to make this asshole that wrecked Jake’s ride get dead?”

  “Fuck, no! How’s that going to solve anything? I want to know if you have anyone on the payroll in the police department. Someone who can maybe make the evidence disappear and find its way back into Jake’s hands.”

  “Why would I want the evidence in Jake’s hands? If I can make it disappear, why not into my hands? Cut out the middle man, much simpler.”

  I held my hand across Jake’s chest as he started forward. “Settle down, son. I’m negotiating this. Stay out of it or get lost.” Jake stopped straining against my hand, but I could feel the tension coming off him.

  “I think you’d be burning a bridge between a valued connection and yourself. But whatever. I just want the evidence gone.” Beside me, Jake growled low in his throat.

  Smith faked a laugh. “Oh, I was just joking. But it would be easier to get it into the hands of an employee of mine. I will pay Jake, can we say, half of his fee? Because he failed to deliver. It will cost me to retrieve our order.”

  I looked at Jake. He wouldn’t like it, but Smith’s logic was sound. And like he said, it was a concession. There was nothing to stop him from taking the ‘shipment’ and not paying at all.

  “Seventy-five percent.”

  “Sixty.”

  “Done.” Jake punched the wall beside us, but said nothing. He’d be even less happy when I told him he’d be splitting that with the club. I’d had to clean up his mess, so it was only fair. But I had one more play.

  “Half now.”

  “What? Are you loco? We don’t pay until we have secured the package.”

  “Half now, or I let Jake show you what he thinks of the deal.”

  Jake picked up on it and somehow swelled to be even more intimidating than he already was. I never would have risked it if Smith had been an actual member of the cartel, but Jake had let it slip he was just a go-between. I’d have some words with Jake about his stupid choices when this was all done, but for now I had to maintain the upper hand.

  “Okay, fuck it.” He led us to his car, a late-model Cadillac with lowered suspension. More words for Jake and the company he kept leaped into my mind. I didn’t want to be seen anywhere near that cop magnet. I hung back while Jake went to the trunk with Smith, covering him in case it was a trap.

  To tell the truth, I wouldn’t risk my ass for him if it did go south, but he didn’t need to know that. I was holding my breath, though. This was exactly the kind of bullshit the club didn’t want to get into. We liked our nice, peaceful life.

  In a minute, Jake was back with a small gym bag. “Big bills,” he explained. We waited for Smith to leave, and a few minutes more, and then made our way back to the van.

  “Why did the cops tell Carl it was cocaine in the saddlebags?”

  “I asked Juan to fix it so Zach would go down for it without a squawk. They were supposed to tell him that if he cooperated, they’d lose enough of it so he’d get a lighter sentence.”

  “You think he can get their help with the change of plans?” I asked Jake.

  “I know he can.”

  “Well, he better. Because if Zach has to pay anymore for your fuckup, I will personally see to it you end up in the hospital in worse shape he’s in. You got me?”

  Jake tried to stare me down. “You can try it, old man. I can take you, and you know it.”

  “Son, you don’t know a damn thing about jungle warfare. You better pray you don’t find out what I know.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Zach

  While my therapists put me through torture like no one would believe, I sometimes occupied my mind with wondering why I hadn’t heard from a lawyer. The cops hadn’t been around again, either, so it wasn’t a big deal, except that it would have eased my mind to know someone had my back.

  Every day, I felt a little stronger. And each time I showed I was, they increased the work, until I felt like I couldn’t take any more. The worst of the torturers was a girl who couldn’t have been more than five-foot-two in stilettos. They sent her to support me while I learned to use my legs again. Since even with the weight loss I’d suffered with the atrophy of my leg muscles I had to weigh twice what she did, I refused to put my full weight on her. I was afraid I’d break her. I figured they’d done that on purpose, to make me work harder.

  I had full range of motion in my arms again, and they were regaining their former strength just from hauling myself into my wheelchair and back out to the bed. The doctor in charge of my program visited at the end of the second week and said he’d never seen such rapid progress. I stared him down, certain he was the one responsible for the pixie therapist.

  He was still there, going through my chart with me, when Cricket showed up one afternoon. One look at her told me she had news, but her eyes went straight to the doctor and she became all business.

  “What’s the prognosis, Doc?” she asked. “Is he going to be able to carry me over the threshold?”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from spoiling the joke as he looked at her in surprise.

  “I, ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were engaged, Mr. Hayes. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks,” I said, sending her a ‘you’re in trouble’ look. “So what’s the answer?”

  We kept it up, harassing the poor man into giving us a prognosis, though he clearly didn’t want to say something he’d regret later. Finally, he conceded that if our wedding date wasn’t in the near future, there was a possibility I’d be able to do just that.<
br />
  With that answer, our little joke backfired on us. Neither Cricket nor I had really expected that to be reality, even if we were engaged. When he said it, she gasped.

  Later, as we lay in my narrow bed, spooning, she apologized. “I didn’t mean…”

  “Cricket, just because I haven’t asked you yet, it doesn’t mean I don’t want to marry you someday. I just need to know I really can be a husband to you.”

  “Zach…”

  “Shh. Leave it right there. As long as you can wait for me, I promise I’ll fucking get there.”

  She took the hand that lay curled around her shoulder and raised it to her lips. “I know you will.”

  We left it at that, but it was one more step in the right direction. She hadn’t said she couldn’t wait.

  “Hey! You had news when you came in. What was it?”

  “Oh, my God. I can’t believe I forgot. You’ll never guess!”

  “Okay, I’ll never guess. I give up. What?”

  “There was a story on the news today. The evidence room at the police station was broken into. Every bit of drug evidence is gone. They had to turn a bunch of people loose today because they can’t prove their cases against them.”

  “Does that mean…?”

  “Yeah. The evidence against you is gone, too.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I think Carl had something to do with it. We talked about it last week, and he was going to reach out to that Sarge guy.”

  “Wow, that’s good news!”

  “Yes, it is. And don’t think I haven’t noticed your hand on my boob, Zach.”

  “Oh? You did?”

  “Not only that, but I think there’s other evidence of good news poking me in the rear.”

  “Hmmm, I hadn’t noticed.”