by Cassie Wild
“What happened?” I demanded. “Where is she?”
“I’ll only tell you that if you promise to keep away – and keep Mom away,” Suzie said even more softly, and I could hear the strain in the words.
“For fuck’s sake!”
“Lane,” Suzie said in a warning tone.
“She’s my sister, damn it,” I said, forgetting about my intention to keep the conversation on the down low. I did a quick look around the bar and saw nobody but Dallas, Sully, and a few of the older members who’d been with the club since before I’d come along. I exhaled a long breath. It was safe enough, but shit, I needed to get my head out of my ass.
“Are you still with them?” Suzie demanded. When I didn’t answer, she sighed. “You know how we feel.”
I did, and because I couldn’t blame them, I bit off a reluctant, “Fine. I won’t tell Mom where she is, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t come looking. Can I tell her?”
“That’s up to you,” Suzie said. Her voice was sad now. “We don’t like this either, baby. You know that.”
“I know. Now…just tell me, okay?”
And she did.
As she shared the entire story, I understood exactly why she’d called about the wreck. It was likely going to be on the news at some point, even if it was just a blip, because of who else was involved in the collision. Ellen lived in Texas now, in a small town just outside of Dallas. Some politician had been in her little town, grandstanding and pressing the flesh prior to the upcoming election, and he’d had his family with him.
The woman who worked as a nanny for them had been out driving drunk – at six in the evening – just as my sister was getting off work. She plowed right into my sister’s car, running the red light and putting Ellen in the hospital.
“Are her husband and the kids okay?” I demanded after Suzie assured me that Ellen was going to be okay. “Do they need anything?”
“Oh, trust me…the senator’s family is practically doing backflips to keep Ellen happy right now. They’ve even been able to keep the media from finding out what hospital she’s in, which is perfect, if you ask me. Not that Ellen would talk to anybody, anyway.”
Both of my sisters were camera-shy, something I completely understood. There’d been a small media circus after Trent’s death. Then, when my father and a couple of the club members had gone after the guys who’d killed him, things had gotten worse. The resulting trial had made those pale in comparison too. A DA set on making a run for governor had decided to use my father and his fellow club members as fodder in his anti-gang violence campaign, and both of my parents had ended up plastered across the news more times than I cared to contemplate.
The only thing that had saved me and my sisters was the fact that we’d been younger and child privacy laws had kept our faces and names out of the news.
But if people dug around long enough, they’d find that connection.
“Do you think she’d talk to me?” I asked.
“Right now, she’s sleeping. She isn’t talking to anybody. And you know her husband…” Suzie sighed. “Maybe once he’s not here so much, if I can talk her into it before I have to fly home…”
I heard the unspoken words.
But no promises.
“Okay,” I said. And I understood. If I was Ellen, I wouldn’t want to talk to me either. “I guess you gotta go, right?”
“I better. Lane…I love you.”
“I love you too.”
As the call went dead, I stood there, staring off at nothing.
I put the kickstand down on my bike and sat there a moment, staring. Not at the house in front of me, but at the other bike that was parked in the driveway. I knew it, and its owner. I wasn’t exactly happy to see it there, nor was I surprised.
The bike belonged to one Thurston Union, called TU by just about everybody. Personally, if I had a name like Thurston, I’d find a nickname too. TU was the acting president of the club, and he and I didn’t always see eye to eye. It wasn’t because of his position, though. I had little doubt that if I wanted to take his spot, I could do so.
No, I didn’t like TU because of how he’d taken to running things over the past few years, and I also didn’t like finding his bike parked in my mother’s driveway.
She’d lived alone since the day I moved out. Part of me wondered if I was being too hard on her – it had to be lonely, her being here while Dad was serving what could be a life sentence.
But I was under no illusion that TU had just dropped by to say hi.
Rumors had been floating around them for years. I’d tried to ignore them, but it was getting harder and harder to do that.
Maybe that was why I was lingering in the driveway another few minutes, giving them a chance to yank some clothes on so I wouldn’t go inside and find them half-naked. Not only would I never recover from that, I might feel moved to do something about it.
If I procrastinated, I could avoid making that choice.
But I couldn’t sit on my bike forever.
Pissed off already, I climbed off the bike and started up the broken sidewalk. It needed to be repaired. There were a lot of things around my old home that needed to be repaired or replaced sooner or later, and sooner was probably better.
Whether or not Mom would let me do it was the question.
She had a job. She worked at Devil’s Firstborn, sometimes helping Dallas behind the bar, but mostly as a waitress. I knew she made decent enough money, especially with her tips, but lately, she’d been complaining that she didn’t make as much as she used to. I’d caught her fingering the wrinkles around her eyes or stroking the hair that had once been brown like mine but was now steel gray.
Her years were showing on her, and we all knew it.
If Dad wasn’t in jail, she probably wouldn’t have to work at all, but I couldn’t take care of her bills and mine unless she was willing to work. Or unless I was willing to cross some lines that others in the club were already crossing. I wasn’t doing that.
There would come a time when I’d have to make a decision, but it was one more thing I was putting off.
I went inside without knocking.
Maybe I should have lingered – or knocked – because just as I came inside, TU walked through the arched doorway that led to the hall where my parents had shared a bedroom all my life. He was pulling a flannel shirt over the white wife-beater shirt he wore. At the sight of me, he paused. One reddish brown eyebrow went up, and we stared at each other for a long moment.
Shit.
That decision would have to be made. And soon.
I nodded at him in lieu of a greeting as Mom came rushing into the room from the direction of the kitchen. “Baby!” She wrapped thin but surprisingly strong arms around me and pulled me down for a tight hug.
I hugged her back, then gestured to the couch. “Can we sit down for a minute? I need to talk to you.”
Wariness entered her eyes, and she glanced at TU before looking back at me. “Is everything okay?”
“Let’s sit,” I suggested again, not wanting to get into it until I had her off her feet. Taking her hand, I guided her over to the couch I’d helped her get the past Christmas and tugged on her until she sat with me. She reached up and brushed my hair out of my eyes.
I smiled at her, distracted, trying to think of the best way to ease into this.
There wasn’t any ideal way, though, was there?
“Listen, I got a call from Suzie just a little while ago,” I said, still holding her hand. “Ellen was in an accident – she’s hurt, but she’s going to be okay.”
Mom’s hand tightened on mine. “She’s…” Tears filled her eyes, and she covered her mouth with her hand, looking away for a minute. Finally, she looked back at me. “Where is she? I have to go see her.”
“You can’t.” This was the hard part. I hated doing this to her. “Mom, you know how she feels about things. She doesn’t want either of us coming.”
“The hell with that!” Mo
m half-shouted, jerking her hand away. “That’s one of my babies. I’ve got a right to see her if she’s been hurt. Where is she?”
“I don’t know.” I gave her a tight smile. “Suzie wouldn’t tell me, and I’m going to respect Ellen’s privacy.”
TU cleared his throat. “I can probably find–”
“No.” I whipped my head around, cutting him off.
“Now see here, son,” TU said, his voice polite enough, but the warning was there.
“This is a family matter, not club business, and I said no,” I told him, rising to stand over my mother. I put a hand on her shoulder when I sensed her tensing. “I’m handling it. I don’t need you interfering.”
Mom caught my hand and squeezed, and I could all but hear every thought as it coursed through her head. I knew she wanted to see her daughter. But at the same time, if she pushed TU for answers, she knew I’d push back.
There would be fall-out, and she might not like how it ended.
She took a deep, shaky breath. “Lane, do you promise me that Ellen is okay? They weren’t just telling you that?”
“Suzie wouldn’t lie about it, Mom. You know that.”
I glanced down at her, sensing the storm had passed. She rolled her lips inward and tipped her head back, blinking away the tears. After a moment, I sat back down next to her and offered my hand. She took it.
“Maybe she’d talk to me on the phone?” she asked, her voice husky.
Mom hadn’t talked to Ellen in more than six months, a fact she’d kept me informed of. She hated that the girls tended to call me more often than her, but any time she got on the phone with one of them, she instinctively tried to guilt them into moving back to LA or at least come for a visit so she could see her grandkids.
And my sisters were adamant that it wouldn’t happen, not as long as we were still involved in the Devil’s Firstborn.
“I don’t know. I’ll find out.” I shot a look at TU, but he stared back at me balefully. “Are you okay, Mom? You got a handle on this?”
She laughed, the sound watery. “As best as I can be, I suppose. Thank you for telling me, Lane.” She turned her head and met my eyes. Offering a wobbly smile, she added, “And don’t worry. I’ll respect her privacy too.”
Five
Trice
Mama had been gone for nearly an hour, so I pulled my laptop out and checked my email and my messages. Suria had emailed, but the message was short and not so sweet.
We’re working on it, Trice. Love you.
That was it.
Nothing else.
I deleted the message, both from my inbox and from the trash folder, then put the laptop back in its hiding place before leaving the bedroom.
Mom still hadn’t locked me back in my room, a fact I was grateful for since I didn’t exactly have an attached bathroom, and I didn’t relish the idea of holding it for six or seven hours – maybe more.
I showered and tried not to think about the dismal outlook my life currently had – even more dismal than it had been a few days ago. I was going to get out of this. Somehow.
I just hadn’t figured out how to do it. Not yet.
After my shower, I dressed, pulling on a light dress to combat the muggy heat that seemed to overpower our old air conditioner. The air in the little house felt stale and heavy, although maybe that was just me. I hadn’t been able to get out in several days, and I’d checked yet again. The two cars were still in place, watching me.
Around lunchtime, though, I heard an engine rev from behind the house.
My heart started, and I hurried to my mother’s room, peering outside and watching as the car parked out back pulled out of its spot.
They were leaving?
I went to the front and peered out. The white car was still in its spot, damn it.
But with one car gone…
My mind started to whirl.
How much money did I have?
How far could I get?
A bus ticket?
I could go somewhere, anywhere, and just send Suria a message, tell her to come and get me.
That would work, wouldn’t it?
Just so I was out of this prison.
Rushing into my room, I started to put some things into my old school backpack, grateful I hadn’t thrown it out after I graduated. It would come in handy now. I didn’t pack much, just a few changes of clothes, the money I had saved, and my computer.
At the sound of the back door opening, I froze.
Panicked, I carried the backpack over to the closet and shoved it inside, only to freeze again, my heart pounding so hard, I could hear it in my ears. Mama might check there. I left and carried it to the hall closet and dumped it in there, yanking a coat off the hook and letting it fall on top to cover it.
I’d just closed the door when I heard somebody call my name – and it wasn’t Mama.
“Trice…”
A sick feeling raced down my spine, and it only spread at the sight of the man who appeared around the corner, peering at me from the kitchen doorway.
Ephraim Farrar.
He smiled at me.
My skin crawled at the sight of him.
“Hello, Ephraim,” I said, pathetically grateful I’d gotten that backpack put away in time. If he’d seen it…
He didn’t, a calm voice in the back of my mind said. Calm down. Just calm down.
Calm was the last thing I felt, but I managed to summon up a smile as he edged closer to me. The light fell across his face, highlighting his brown eyes and the avarice that gleamed there. His thinning hair had once been jet black but was now graying at the temples although he was only in his forties.
He was only a few feet away now, and I wanted to cross my arms over my body to keep him from staring at me the way he was.
“What can I do for you?” I asked politely.
“I thought we could talk about our…wedding.” His eyes slid down my body, and I knew he had no plans to talk about anything.
“Perhaps we should wait until Mama gets back. I know she’s excited. I’d hate to cut her out of anything,” I said. That’s me, the dutiful, loving daughter.
“Oh, we’ll make sure to include her suggestions.” He waved a dismissive hand. “I just thought it was best that we have some time to…chat about what we wanted.”
Again, his eyes dropped to the front of my dress, and he took another step toward me.
I backed up.
“I’d feel better waiting for Mama,” I said, keeping my voice firm.
“You’re not a little girl anymore, Trice. You don’t need your mama to hold your hand. Especially not for this.” He gave me a wide smile.
I backed up another step.
I didn’t realize I was playing right into his hands until he had backed me right up into my room, and by then, it was too late. Panic seized me, but I fought it back. Even when he reached out and trailed a finger down my arm, I didn’t react.
I had to be calm.
I had to think.
“Ephraim, it would really be better if you came back–”
He shot a hand into my hair and yanked me closer. “I’ve waited long enough for a new bride, Trice. I don’t want to come back,” he said, his breath spilling into my face, smelling of garlic and wine.
It turned my stomach.
Twisting my face away from him, I wedged my arms between us. “Ephraim, what about our wedding night?”
“We can have it a little early.” He slid a hand up my side and cupped my breast, squeezing hard.
I bit back the urge to cry out, and strengthened by the panic rising in me, I shoved, hard. It caught him off guard, and he went down in a tangle of arms and legs. I spun around and ran out the door, but I stopped the second I cleared it.
Mama had left the lock hanging in the eye of the hook, just as a reminder of how easily I could lose my freedom, and I grabbed it now, yanking the door shut as Ephraim got to his feet. He’d fallen in the narrow space between my bed and the wall, and the t
ight constraints didn’t make it any easier for him to maneuver. He saw what I was doing and roared.
I slid the lock through the holes just as he hid the door. He rattled it so hard, I was barely able to slam the lock shut. Then I grabbed my bag from the closet and hit the back door, running harder than I’d ever run in my life.
I had to get out of there.
I had to find a phone.
I had to get away.
Six
Lane
The boxes inside the old, vacant storefront were stacked neatly along the wall.
The man who had ‘claimed’ the boxes – and their contents – stood in front of me, whining about my reluctance to take possession of them.
“Look, TU said the Firstborn were good for the money. You going to take this shit off my hands or not?” he demanded.
I eyed him narrowly and watched as he shrank back a little. Whether it was from the glare or the fact that I had almost a foot in height on him, I didn’t know or care.
“TU sent me to evaluate the situation, and that’s what I’m doing.” My evaluation was that the whole damn thing was fucked up. We could buy booze legally for not much more than what this dumbass wanted, and TU wanted to get involved in it. Deciding to make that clear, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I know, to the penny, how much it costs to buy this shit for the bar. Why do you think we should save a few hundred and risk our necks buying stolen booze from you?”
“Hey, hey, man…” He held up his hands. “Who said it’s stolen?”
I looked over at the boxes, nearly twenty cases of prime, top-shelf tequila straight out of Mexico. “You telling me that’s all here legally?” He blinked, clearly debating on whether he should lie. “Let me give you some advice…if you lie to me, I’ll probably be able to tell.”
“Hey, I just took it off a friend’s hands, thinking I could help TU out. You guys want it or not?”
I looked him up and down, then said, “Stay here.”
I stepped outside and pulled out my phone, dialing TU. He didn’t answer.