Checkmate With Bishop: A Hellions MC Novel

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  “Little man!” came the callback, sounding equally as happy at my boy’s intrusion. “How they hanging, dude?”

  I clutched the doorjamb and found my eyes were squeezed shut, allowing Stan’s deep growl to wash over me, choking off the myriad of emotions as he welcomed our son, our beautiful boy into his room. Their voices as they met and melded became a comforting hum that superseded my nerves. Enough so, I could put one step in front of the other and enter Stan’s room.

  “Hey, Stan,” I called, finding my hand lifted in some kind of half-assed wave. “How are you?”

  Twin pairs of hazelly-green eyes hit mine and I dropped my chin. I struggled to find nice enough words, social vocalizations to explain my and J.R.’s presence. “Thought we’d come by to seeing how you were doing.”

  Yeah, that was good. Keep it breezy, light. Just one old friend to another.

  But the tense quiet in the room more than told me that my presence was an unwelcomed intrusion.

  “I ain’t dying,” Stan stated baldly. I heard the gears in the bed begin as he raised the head of it into a more upright position.

  J.R. fidgeted before he dropped himself into the chair positioned next to the mattress, breaking our stare and redirecting our attention to him. “So what’s wrong with you, sir? Did they tell you?”

  Stan’s face softened and I watched as his gaze roamed over J.R. “Just a shit-load of sores in my gut that they tell me can be fixed.”

  “That’s good, Stan,” I murmured, my eyes catching on a sheaf of papers that sat on his rolling table, ones marked as ‘Meal Plan for Gastric, Esophageal and Duodenal Ulcers’. “Are they going to have to operate?”

  When he didn’t reply, I looked back to the bed to see he was staring at me with a frown. “You,” he began, shoving a pointing finger my way. “You can just take that shapely, mouth-watering ass out into the fucking hall. Me and my boy have shit to discuss. I’ll deal with your shit later.”

  The steel in Stan’s voice was hard to miss and only substantiated my guilt, the blood-letting remorse I’d wrestled with all night. But I wasn’t contrite enough to just immediately do as he demanded. I felt my eyebrows pinch together and I opened my mouth to let him know I wasn’t his or anyone else’s lackey but J.R. cut in before I could issue my zinger.

  “Just give us a few minutes, Mom, ‘kay?” My eyes slid to my boy whose expression seemed to both apologize and yet beg me for understanding.

  Closing my lips, all I could do was nod while I struggled for calm. I grabbed the handle of the door in order to closet myself away from my boy and my ex-man. “I’ll be right outside but make it quick, we still have a lot to do.”

  And as the door slid closed with nothing but a dull thud, my heart beating hard and heavy in my chest, I realized the truth of it all. Realized that I’d probably, through no other but allowing my own horrible pride to plot my course, had lost them both.

  But with only the storage unit as my only remaining issue, getting out of Missoula as soon as possible was the next item on my agenda.

  *.*.*.*.*

  J.R.’s gaze met the other man’s eyes before sweeping to all the different machines that surrounded him. “That was harsh,” the young man murmured involuntarily, feeling his cheeks and ears heat at how his mom must’ve felt at the awful, terrible dismissal.

  “No less than she deserves, kid.”

  “Are you talking about how she...kept us apart?” J.R. wasn’t sure how to handle the moment, of how to talk to his dad, someone he didn’t know and had been clueless about until the night before.

  “You didn’t know either?” Bishop’s voice while soft, held the edge of incredulousness and J.R. felt the other man’s gaze one him. “She didn’t admit it to you?”

  “No, sir.” J.R. found himself swallowing hard enough that he felt the movement. “She just told me last night. That was why I called you, remember?”

  “Fucking Christ.” Bishop scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “Is that b-bad?” J.R. hated his voice, hated the way it broke and went into two different octaves without his fore-knowledge, his acceptance. “That you are…you’re like my dad, or something?”

  J.R. remained still, his mind working through the fact that the man laid out on the bed was the one he’d been searching for all his damn life. It wasn’t until he felt the heat and heaviness of the other guy’s palm, one that covered the hand he held clenched on the plastic bedrail that he allowed himself to relax.

  “Fuck no.” The other man, the stranger that his mother had confessed was his father, sounded sad. “No, J.R. Never. I’ll fucking never be sorry of being a part of you, boy.”

  He couldn’t be a pussy, couldn’t cry in front of the man that he’d been waiting his whole life to meet. So the young teen-ager blinked hard and swallowed rigidly. “So why do you seem so angry?”

  “It’s the fucking sitch.”

  “Sir?”

  “The fucking situation. That I didn’t know about you and you didn’t know about me.” J.R. shot a glance upward without shifting his head in order to ascertain the truth of the other man’s speech. Although he was confused, more perplexed than he’d ever been in his life.

  “Your mom and I used to dream about you, you know,” came the soft continuation. To J.R.’s mind, the man sounded suddenly sleepy or maybe he was flying on whatever pain meds he was taking. “We used to talk about having you. About how we’d care for you and how our lives would change once you were born.”

  J.R. didn’t speak, couldn’t find the words to respond.

  “But you were wanted. Fuck, yeah,” the older man mumbled and J.R. found his eyes skimming over the large form that seemed to hold the only color in the hospital room. “So goddamn fucking wanted.”

  “I think you need to rest, sir.” J.R. wiggled his hand in order to escape the pressing heat of his father’s palm. The man’s mumblings were starting to scare him even though he suspected it was the result of whatever drugs they were feeding him. “I should probably go.”

  “Yeah,” came the whispered reply offered after a jaw-creaking yawn. “We’ll talk later.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  By my estimation, J.R. and I were just a bit more than halfway through clearing out the storage unit. We had three piles going: one to trash, one to donate and another to take with us back to Casper. It was slow going. But even as we worked my mind kept going to all that had happened both the night before and with that morning’s kind of doing. On a man that had dismissed me even after confessing that what I’d found in the ruins of my heart was more than reciprocated.

  I caught sight of a movement out of the corner of my eye and raised my face as I watched a golf cart make its way towards me.

  “Ms. Leone?” the middle-aged, balding man called from his place behind the wheel as he brought the cart to a stop at the farthest pile. I saw him glance at J.R. before dragging his eyes back to me. “A word, please.”

  I straightened and yanked my t-shirt back into place before running a hand over my hair. I was hot, tired and covered in the dust that coated each and every box, over every piece of furniture from my storage unit that hadn’t been looked at, much less touched, in a very long time. Stepping towards the man, I noted the frown he wore but I couldn’t be sure if it was from the glare of the sun or because of what he needed to talk to me about.

  “I’m P.W. Smith, the owner and manager of Ace Storage,” he pronounced as soon as I was standing next to him. “And while it has been a pleasure to serve you all these many years, I’m formally asking you to clear your space by six p.m. tonight.”

  Wait…what?

  “But I’m paid through the end of the month,” I started, confusion clear in my voice.

  “And that is today.” His face didn’t allow for argument but was settled along the lines of stubbornness. “We will not be renewing your lease.”

  “Why?” That was the only question I could utter although a zillion others were crowding my brain. To know that it echo
ed Stan’s one word inquiry from the day before hit me at my knees.

  Mr. P.W. Smith had the grace to look away before his eyes came back to mine. “Listen, Ms. Leone. I’m just a business man trying to make a profit. I got a call today that told me you needed to vacate the premises as soon as possible.”

  “By whom?”

  He swallowed and lifted a hand to settle the few strands that he used to try and conceal his bald spot. “I’m not at liberty to say. But what I can tell you is that the Hellions make up a lot of my business. So much so, I can’t afford to cross them.”

  I waved a hand toward the piles J.R. and I had made, at all that remained in the unit. “How the hell am I supposed to get through all of this, in what? Four hours?”

  “That isn’t my problem, Ms. Leone. But you do have my sympathy. Can I make a call for a dumping service or for more people to help you in your endeavor?”

  I looked back to where J.R. stood, statue-like as he listened to what was going on before my gaze slid to all that we had left to do. “Yes to both. Although, I have to say that I really don’t understand. I’ve been a good, steady customer for many, many years…”

  “Be that as it may, I still have to let you go,” he said and his voice wasn’t without sympathy.

  “Because of the Hellions.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Because of the Hellions.”

  I sighed, shading my eyes with one hand. I knew when I was defeated. “How soon can you get them here?”

  “I’ll make the calls right away.” He reached for the cell phone in his pocket and I started to turn away. “If it makes any difference, I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah,” I mumbled before stepping back from the cart and turning back towards my stuff, the junk of my youth. “You and me both.”

  *.*.*.*.*

  We were on our way back to the hotel, both of us covered in dust and more than beyond tired. But we’d done it.

  Cleaned out my storage area completely. Albeit with the help of three, big, scary men, a garbage truck and a one of Missoula’s second hand store’s vans.

  I wanted a hot shower, something to eat and my bed in order to sleep for a week or more. That’s how long I thought it would take to get my energy back, in order for the soreness of my arms, hips and knees to go away.

  Pulling into the Rosemont parking lot, I felt the tension in my shoulders release. Just a few more minutes and I could call it a day before making my way to the hospital in order to go to Stan. To demand an explanation for the unexplainable of what he’d said.

  “Erm…Mom?” J.R. called from the passenger seat. I turned to look at him, wondering at his tone of voice. “What’s that?”

  I followed where his eyes were looking and saw a lock on my hotel room door before shooting my glance to his room. Both of them had weird things on their handles.

  “Did they lock us out?” My kid’s voice held all the incredulousness I had bubbling inside.

  I immediately went into my version of ‘I’m-a-Mom’ mode, which when broken down was a mix of determination, savvy and just plain ol’ balls in the face of danger. “Stay here, baby. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  Unlatching my belt, I saw Ally and Mike standing behind the counter in reception, both of their long faces setting my expectations even before I opened the heavy glass door. “Hey guys,” I greeted, pasting a wimpy-assed smile on my face. “What’s up?”

  “We’re so sorry, Dory!” Ally yelped, as she wrung her hands on the counter top. At the wetness I could see on the shiny surface, they were sweating too.

  “Got a call today, Dore.” Mike’s voice sounded regretful, almost sorrowful. I noticed he had a hand on Ally’s far shoulder and was kneading it. “You can’t stay here no more.”

  “I packed up all of yours and J.R.’s stuff,” Ally cut in and as I looked at her again, I could see there were tracks in her heavy foundation and her mascara was smeared.

  She’d been crying.

  “It’s all right here, all your luggage and gear is sitting right here behind the counter safe and sound.” I noticed her voice still held little hitches. “We can get you into the Piedmont or there some efficiency units out by Greenough Park. With one phone call, I can have you and your boy…”

  “You’re turning us out?” I honestly couldn’t believe Ally would do that. “What’s happened to cause this?”

  “We don’t have any choice, Dore,” Mike said, pressing a tissue into Ally’s palm as his fingers on her shoulder renewed their grip.

  “They told us they’d pull their business if we didn’t move you out.” Her voice hitched and she dabbed the fresh tissue first to one eye and then the other.

  I took a deep breath, knowing, so goddamn sure of who had called them but I needed confirmation. “The Hellions?”

  She nodded but Mike just looked away from my accusing eyes.

  “You gotta understand, Dore. Why just a few months ago, they rented out an entire floor for an entire week!” Mike explained on a strident note. “We just can’t afford to piss them off. Not if we want to stay in business anyway.”

  I got it, totally understood.

  It was a message that, when combined with what I’d been given at Ace Storage, was a clear indication of what HMC had been putting into play while I’d been trying to tie up the loose ends of my life.

  They wanted me and my kid gone.

  I heard an engine as another SUV pulled into the parking lot and I turned to see who it was. Mainly because I didn’t want to make a scene in front of another customer, causing Ally and Mike further distress with the tired temper-tantrum that was building inside me.

  “Damn!” Mike exclaimed, his eyes filled with surprise as he took in the sight of the tall man that was just then exiting his car. “What’s James doing here?”

  It was at Mike’s words that I noticed the man was wearing a uniform and was placing a cap on his head. A hat that bore a shiny, bright star.

  “Hey, Mike. Ally,” he greeted as he cleared the doorway. “How you doing?”

  His nondescript blue eyes settled on me and he nodded as if to acknowledge my presence. “I’m here to serve some papers. You got a Ms. Adora Leone staying here?”

  I felt my stomach clench and my heart go into overdrive at his use of my name.

  “I’m her,” I offered but I really didn’t need to say anything out loud because both Ally and Mike’s eyes had speared me, outing me, when the officer had spoken. “You have papers?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He nodded in such an officious way I found myself sneering at him inside my mind, though I was careful to keep my face blank. “I have an order here remanding both you and your son to the State of Montana.”

  “And that means what, exactly?”

  “I wasn’t finished, ma’am. If you don’t mind, I’ll get through it all and then you can ask your questions.”

  I rolled my eyes at the man’s stiff-necked attitude but turned my body towards him while waving a hand away from me, palm-up. “By all means…continue.”

  He cleared his throat, and after casting a glance back to both Ally and Mike, began again. “I’m serving you with papers that require both you and your son to remain in the great State of Montana as well as providing you with papers concerning the custody of one, Stanley Robert Bastian, Junior.”

  What. The. Fuck?

  I couldn’t believe it, couldn’t damn-well think for all the rage that shot through my system. “And just who the hell filed these papers, officer?”

  The tall guy that Mike had named as James, wet his thumb with his tongue before flipping through the sheets he held. The crinkling of the papers was loud, so freakishly loud, in the small office. “An attorney named David L. Stephenson.”

  “On whose behalf?”

  “That would be Stanley Robert Bastian…ah, senior, ma’am.”

  “Bishop?” Ally asked, her overflowing eyes turned back to mine. “Oh my god, J.R. looked so familiar and I couldn’t figure out how I knew him. But J.R.’s his son,
isn’t he? Oh my god, Dory!”

  ‘Oh my god’ didn’t even begin to cover it in my opinion as I felt the floor of all my carefully crafted security shatter beneath my feet. “So if I understand it right, I’m not allowed to leave the state and Stan is suing me for custody of our son?” I needed to get it all out, the full truth of what was happening completely out in the open.

  My mom had always said you couldn’t deal with what wasn’t known.

  The deputy, or whatever he was, made a moue of sympathy. “That’s about the size of it, ma’am.”

  “Let me get Lisa on the phone from that efficiency place up by the park,” Ally cried reaching for the receiver of the wireless phone that sat next to her terminal. “If you’re gonna be in town a while, you’ll need a good, safe place to stay. Two rooms or one?”

  Without even thinking about it, my mouth replied. “One.”

  “Uhm, Dory? With the Hellions pulling their credit card and such, we’ve gotta ask that you settle your bill,” Mike uttered and I was gratified to see he was blushing all the way to his roots as he asked.

  “How much?”

  “For two rooms at two days?” He had the keyboard firmly underneath his hands as his fingers raced over the keyboard. “That’ll be $387.50.”

  Shit! Seriously?

  “And you need to sign to denote receipt of the legal documents,” Officer James with-no-last-name added, shoving the thick stack of paperwork my way.

  Grabbing a pen from the cup on the counter, I scrawled my signature with unnecessary roughness on his sheet to show I’d been served before turning back to Mike. “I need to transfer some funds so I can pay you. Taking care of all the stuff at the storage place maxed out my credit card.”

  “You’re welcome to use our computer,” Mike offered and I couldn’t help calling him ‘bastard’ in my head. Why be so nice when he was casting an old friend out and away?

  Glancing back out to my car I saw J.R. avidly watching me with worry in his eyes.