A Brother’s Salvation: The Sacred Brotherhood Book VII

by A. J. Downey

  “Well, let’s start with something simple, then. When did you and Mac over there first meet?”

  I chuckled, “In high school, probably sophomore year. I had a thing for his sister, a freshman. He bloodied my nose over it.”

  “Well now that’s not so bad, now is it? You become friends after that?”

  “Hell, no!” I laughed. “We hated each other. I fucked his sister twice before the year was over and she ended up getting knocked up by some other guy the year after that.”

  I’d taken Cecile’s virginity, but she’d been all for it. She’d turned into the school’s slut all on her own, though. That weren’t nothing to do with me. Neither was the meth habit she’d developed. That’d been all Bobby Fletcher’s doing.

  “Oh, my! So how did you end up becoming friends, then?” she asked and leaned an elbow on the table, depositing her chin in her upturned hand.

  “Well,” I cleared my throat some. “That’s where the illegal bit comes in. Y’see, Mac was drunk as fuck and his sister was deep into a bad meth habit. He come over to pick a fight with me. Declared it was my fault she ended up the way she did. We got into a hell of a fist fight. He lost, ended up in a heap spittin’ blood and teeth, and started cryin’ about it. Ended up payin’ me to deliver a worse beat-down to his sister’s dealer. I did it fer him. We sort of became strange friends after that.”

  “His sister get help?” she asked, glancing over in Mac’s direction.

  “Nope. She died. Meth habit ate her alive. Mac raised her kid. Boy’s a damn good rancher next county over, now. Earned his way up bein’ some kinda rodeo star.”

  I didn’t tell her that, at the time, I’d taken Mac’s money but the beat-down I’d served Cessy’s dealer hadn’t been any kind of altruistic on my part. I’d pretty much planned on runnin’ the motherfucker up outta my town, anyhow. He’d been fuckin’ with my client base with that new shit. He needed gone. I’d beat his ass into a three-month coma. Of course, I was smart about it and there weren’t no trace leadin’ back to me.

  Cessy’d gotten better for a time, but eventually she’d fallen right back in it. By then we’d moved up in the world from small-time to runnin’ guns and workin' for the cartel and I could give a shit about the smaller meth operations.

  I didn’t delve into those kinds of details, though. Marcie needed to know what kind of man I was, sure. She didn’t need to know everything, though.

  “So a sad but somewhat happy ending. Mac’s nephew ended up alright and had Mac there for him. Bittersweet, but I guess you can’t know how sweet something is until you’ve had the bitterness to show you.”

  “That’s quite the philosophy,” I said.

  “Well, I preach a whole hell of a lot better ‘n I listen,” she said, with a laugh.

  “I think that’s probably true of most folks,” I said.

  She nodded.

  “That may be.”

  We didn’t say much as Mac drew up to the end of our table with a couple of menus in hand.

  “Dragon,” he drawled.

  “Mac,” I gave a nod.

  “Usual?” he asked.

  I gave another nod. “Sounds good to me.”

  “An’ fer th’ lady?”

  “The lady’ll have an Old Fashioned if you don’t mind,” she said before I could even ask.

  Mac realized his error but didn’t apologize, instead he just politely said, “Not at all, ma’am. Be right back with those drinks while you settle on some food.”

  “Thanks, Mac,” I said, and he dipped his chin and lumbered off back towards the bar. I’d helped him out in more ways over the years and we were good now, not close friends by any means, but friendly.

  “So what’s good here?” she asked, browsing the menu.

  “To be honest, it’s all good. Mac runs a damn fine kitchen.”

  “Not especially helpful for narrowing it down for me. What d’ you usually get?”

  “Burgers are good; real good. I think I’ll have me one of them.”

  “Sounds good,” she said and set her menu aside. I set mine aside without really looking at it. Not that I could read it without my glasses, anyways. I knew what was on it. I’d become a frequent flyer at The Spot since all the girls pretty much had homes of their own with the guys and were spending less time at the club these days.

  “So, what about you?” I asked her, curious.

  “What about me?” she asked.

  “Well, what d’you like to do, other ‘n hair?”

  “Well, I love to read. In the summer time, with a big ol’ glass of sweet tea, but in the winter, I like my tea hot.”

  “Well, we got somethin’ else in common, then. I’m quite the reader myself.”

  She laughed lightly and said, “You probably don’t read the same authors I do,” she said.

  “Into romance?” I asked.

  “That I am, and mystery. Love a good mystery, too.”

  “One of my men has been reading them there romance novels. His woman read them a lot before she died. I think it’s a way for him to stay connected to her. He’s always got one of her old paperbacks in his hands. He’d probably be the better one to talk over ‘em with. I’ve been known to indulge in a mystery or two. Who’s yer favorite author?”

  “Oh, well, my favorite author right now is Timber Philips. She doesn’t write mysteries, though. She’s a romance writer.”

  “Ain’t she a big-name author? The one puttin’ out all the movies?”

  “She is!” she cried, delighted and her smile was a nice one. I was beginning to realize that Marcie didn’t smile a whole lot. At least, not genuine smiles that reached her eyes and touched her soul.

  I asked her, “So, what’s yer favorite book by her?”

  “Oh, that would have to be Hunter’s Choice.”

  Tricia, one of the waitresses, looking a little harried and probably late for work, rushed up with our drinks on a tray and stopped the conversation.

  “Sorry!” she said, hastily. “Having one of them days.” She laughed a little and whipped out her order pad from her apron which was crookedly tied around her slim hips. She couldn’t have been older than twenty-one. Just legal enough to even be in here.

  “That’s alright, Darlin’. We was just talkin’, we ain’t miss nothin’.”

  “Thanks for understanding, what can I get y’all?” she asked.

  I let Marcie order first and then ordered m’self. Tricia wrote everything down and took the menus from Marcie, who held them out with a polite smile.

  “Thank you, I promise to get your food to y’ while it’s still hot.”

  “Thank you,” Marcie said, taking a sip of her Old Fashioned. I took a sip of my beer and gave Mac a little side-eye for havin’ it brought to me in a glass. He gave me a shit-eating grin and a tip of his chin, and I smiled and shook my head. Bottle was just fine by me, never understood dirtyin’ a perfectly good clean glass. I was bettin’ this was Mac’s commentary about bein’ out with a woman my own age. It wasn’t somethin’ that happened – ever.

  “So, this Hunter’s Choice, what’s it about?” I asked when Tricia had left and the dust from her whirlwind appearance had settled.

  “You seriously want me to tell you what it’s about?” she asked and I could see she was taken aback.

  “I asked, didn’t I?”

  “Well, all right, then!”

  She told me all about it, all right. By the time she was done, I actually found myself wanting to read it. She was so enthusiastic about it, it was kinda infectious.

  The dinner was good, the conversation was better, and what felt like too soon, I had to take her back to her car and say goodnight. I did, but I wished we could have talked longer. It was nice. A nicer time than I’d had in a while. I watched her get into the Honda and waited until she started it up and put it in reverse before I put my own bike in gear and rode off. And no, I didn’t kiss her. It wasn’t like that.

  Though, I’d be a liar if I said the thought hadn�
�t briefly crossed my mind.

  6

  Marcie…

  “Mama!” Devon cried, and when I rounded from my sink full of dishes, her face was white as a sheet and horrified. I frowned and stared at her for half a second, my mind tripping over itself as to what could be wrong, when Jimmy tried to cross unobtrusively behind my pregnant daughter.

  “Jimmy Hudgins!” I cried. “You gossip worse than the little old ladies at my salon.”

  “No, Mama! You do not turn this ‘round on him! What were you thinking?”

  “Devon,” I said, propping one hand on my hip. “Now, I know you’re about to become a mama all on your own, but that does not mean you get to mama me. I brought you into this world, so I’d like to think I’m ahead of you on the curve. So you just slow your roll there, sweetheart.”

  Her jaw dropped open, her eyes welled up, and I started to turn back to my sink full of dishes but stopped. “Jimmy! You get in here and finish these dishes, now, since you’re seen fit to try an’ dirty up my Sunday dinner with a bunch of gossip.”

  He came into the kitchen as I went to console my weepy, pregnant daughter. I let out a gusty sigh and hugged her and said, “Now, now. It ain’t nothin’ but them hormones gettin’ you going. Honey, I am fine. I cut the man’s hair, and he asked me out to dinner. It gets lonely ‘round here durin’ the week and I didn’t much feel like just cookin’ for myself, so I wasn’t about to pass up a free meal.”

  “But he’s a Sacred Heart!” she wailed.

  “So? What they done to you?” I asked.

  “Well… well nothing, but Mama! They’re criminals! Dangerous ones.”

  “She’s right, Marcie,” my son-in-law said gently from the dining room table, his arm still in a sling from his accident.

  “Wasn’t but a couple of years ago one of their women got killed in their clubhouse. Some beef between them and another MC tryin’ to move in on their turf.”

  I raised an eyebrow and said, “How come I didn’t hear anything on the news?”

  “Yah don’t hear everythin’ on the news, y’know,” Jimmy said from the sink.

  “Seems to me, something like that shoulda made it.”

  “It was the same day as that plane blew its engine over Florida,” my other daughter, Dylan, said, getting up from the table herself and coming over to me and Devon. “It was on the news, you just missed it.”

  “How the hell could you remember that?” I asked, astounded.

  “Dunno, Mama,” she said with a shrug. “I just do. Devon’s right, so is Jimmy.”

  “And me. What am I, chopped liver?” Rich, Devon’s husband, called from the dining table.

  I rolled my eyes, “Really, it’s fine! He’s just a… a friend.”

  “And does he know you killed his man?” Jimmy asked from the sink.

  “Jimmy!” Dylan scolded, and I moved some of her long blonde hair back off her shoulder and shook my head.

  “Don’t yell at the man for talkin’ the truth,” I told her gently. “And yes, Mr. Busy-body. He does know. That’s how we met, in the cemetery where I went to pay some respect.”

  “When’d you go and do that?” Devon asked, mopping at her tears and runny makeup with her sleeve.

  I slapped her hand down and handed her the dishcloth off my shoulder.

  “Ruin a perfectly good blouse doing that,” I scolded.

  She laughed and took the dish towel and did things proper. It needed to go in the washing anyway.

  “The mornin’ after Rich was in his accident,” I told them. “Really, y’all are makin’ a mountain outta a mole hill. He came in later that day for a haircut and that was that.” I huffed out a frustrated and impatient breath. Honestly, I didn’t much like explaining myself to a bunch of kids. Even if they weren’t kids anymore.

  “Just be careful,” Dylan said and her brow furrowed in worry.

  I smiled. I had to. I loved my girls more than anything and I didn’t want them sad or worried for me.

  “I’ll be fine, y’all worry too much. There ain’t been no trouble out of those men since then, has there?”

  “Come to think of it, no… just a couple of drunk-and-disorderlies. A bar brawl last year, but it wasn’t them that started it.”

  “See. How you know they ain’t turned a new leaf?” I asked, and led Devon back to her seat by her husband. Dylan paced her older sister on her other side and we helped her sit. Girl was seven months pregnant and as big as a house. Bigger ‘n I ever got. She was carrying a right big baby. Forget a bun in her oven, she had the whole loaf!

  “Men like that don’t change, Mama Marcie,” Rich said sadly.

  “Boys at county still talk about some of the things they seen back in the day, when they was at their worst.” Jimmy called back to us.

  “Oh, like what? How bad could it be?” I scoffed, but the first stirrings of unease started in on me.

  “Nothin’ that bears repeatin’ in front of a lady,” Rich declared.

  “Shit,” I jeered. “You seen that one naked I don’t know how many times, and who you callin’ a lady? Sure as hell ain’t me!” I laughed and Dylan joined me.

  “Mama!” Devon cried, aghast.

  “Well, it’s true!”

  “So what if it’s true!” Devon’s face flamed. “Don’t mean it needs talkin’ about in mixed company.”

  “Baby girl, now I know you ain’t got yourself fooled into thinkin’ he ain’t said that much and worse when he’s with all them boys at the police station,” I said.

  Rich wisely kept his mouth shut and I expertly steered the conversation away from Dragon and his motorcycle club. I didn’t know what it was, but I didn’t want to hear it. Dare I say, I liked the man. He was fun to talk to, and I didn’t want to believe he was such a mean cuss. Still, the seeds had been planted by my kid’s worry and I started to worry, too.

  I wondered if he would talk about it if I just out and asked him. Of course, I didn’t even know when I might see him again. Could be tomorrow, could be in a couple of weeks when he just needed his hair cut again. Who knows if he even wanted to see me again? I was likely too boring for the likes of him, anyhow.

  I went back and relieved Jimmy from the last of the dinner dishes and he took out my trash without being asked. He was a good boy. Not always real quick, but not dumb by any means. I was hoping for a minute that Dylan would fancy him and they’d take up, but she seemed content to focus on her studies at the local college. Not that I had much to say about it.

  When I was her age, I had more than a few wild oats to sow and I had – right up until I got pregnant with Devon. By then, I thought I’d found the love of my life with the girl’s dad… turned out the feeling wasn’t mutual.

  When we got divorced, some ugly words were exchanged, the ones that hurt the worst was the ones where he told me that him marryin’ me was only on account of the fact he’d knocked me up with Devon. He apologized about sayin’ it later, but what was done was done. I knew the truth of it the moment the words were spoken. There weren’t no saving us, just like there weren’t no gettin’ any of that time back for Bobby.

  I sighed, and drained the sink. I suddenly wanted to be alone, to get lost in one of my books where the love and romance felt real. I knew that the time for me to experience any of that true love stuff was long gone and I was more ‘n a little bitter about it.

  Of course, then all I had to do was look at either one of my girls and that feeling evaporated.

  I wouldn’t honestly trade any of the years I spent with Bobby if it meant I had to give up my girls. I loved them with the last light my soul had to give. They were just about my everything in this life. I looked at them and felt like even though I may have done things wrong – I did everything just right.

  “I hate it when you look sad, Mama,” Dylan said and hugged me from behind.

  “I know, baby. It comes and it goes.” I chuckled. “Just a fact of life, honey, but ‒my life. I expect you to do much better when it comes to yours.”


  She sighed and asked, “You want me to stay here tonight?”

  “Oh, no, no, no,” I said, shaking my head. “You go on and go back to school. I’m sure you got homework to do.”

  “Yeah,” she said kind of sheepishly.

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “You ain’t failing any of them classes, are you?”

  “No! No, nothing like that.”

  “All right, then.”

  “I love you, Mama,” she said, and I turned around from the window we’d watched Jimmy, Rich, and her sister leave out of and gave my girl a fierce hug.

  “I love you, too, my girl.”

  “Just be careful, you promise?”

  “I promise. Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to me. I’m a tough old broad.”

  “Can’t argue with you there,” she said with a devilish grin, and we shared a laugh.

  She left, too, and my house that had been so full of laughter and light felt colder and empty now. I sighed and went back to my kitchen to put the whistling kettle on. I fixed myself a big ol’ mug of tea and went into my living room to my favorite chair. I made sure my phone was plugged in, so the girls could text me they was home safe and picked up my battered old paperback of Hunter’s Choice.

  I pulled out the bookmark, or ‘quitter strip’ as I liked to call it, and settled in to read.

  My phone buzzed at my elbow and I picked it up, expecting it to be Devon as she and Rich didn’t live too far from here. His parents had given their big house to Rich and Devon and had gone and bought a smaller place for themselves when Devon discovered she was pregnant. I smiled, lookin’ forward to my first grand baby.

  My smile dissolved into a frown when I read the message from an unfamiliar number.

  You know, this ain’t like no romance I ever read. Not that I ever really read a romance before this.

  I felt my eyebrows go up when I realized who it had to be and texted back.

  Oh yeah, what’d you expect?

  He responded a handful of seconds later.

  I dunno, but this wasn’t it. Ain’t you going to ask how I got your number?

  I smiled and bit my bottom lip at the giddy feeling I had.

  No. What romance you reading, anyway?