by ML Nystrom
The pain was incredible as I struggled for breath. I opened my eyes to see the taillights of the car spin out of control as it flew into a hairpin turn up ahead. It hit the flimsy guardrail hard, flipped over it, and disappeared from sight, taking several trees with it. I heard crash after crash as I imagined the car rolling down the mountain and the sound went on for a long time. Joker hadn’t been wearing his seat belt either, and nursing school had taught me what happens to the human body as it is uncontrollably whipped around in a violently car wreck. The chances of Joker’s survival were less than none.
I was dying. There was no way I was going to make it. This was the bad part about being a nurse, in that I knew I was too injured, drowning in my own blood, and the hospital was too far away. Mute drove up to me in a screeching halt. One moment later he was down on the ground next to me, his eyes blazing with concern and fear. I heard more vehicles pull up. It was getting hard to tell, as I felt myself fading. My hands were numb, and I was so cold. Tears were pouring from Mute’s dark eyes, and I could hear his thoughts as he stroked my bloodied cheek with his fingers.
“Don’t die, Kat! Please don’t leave me! Please don’t go!”
I smiled at him as best I could. “I’m sorry, baby. I love you,” I whispered with the breath I had left. My vision went black; my last sight was Mute’s tears.
Mute paced up and down the waiting room. He didn’t like hospitals, but being a part of a biker club meant you became intimately acquainted with them. Accidents happened, sometimes little, sometimes more, but eventually, someone had to make a trip here. He stopped and breathed in the disinfectant smell in the air. Fuck! He hated that stink!
“Mute, sit down for a bit, son,” Betsey called from one of the uniform chairs. Tambre was on one side, her hands flying with a set of knitting needles. The multicolored yarn had been getting steadily longer as the hours went by.
Mute blinked at it, thinking he could measure time by that scarf, or whatever it was. When they first arrived at the hospital, Kat’s still body was swarmed with people shouting orders, taking vitals, putting stick patches on her chest, needles, tubes, and IV bags. The nurse that had treated Kat before wasn’t on duty, but someone else who knew Kat as a nursing student recognized her.
“Oh, Lord in heaven, it’s Katwoman! What happened? How did she get like this?”
Taz had driven the van to the hospital, and gave the details to her as well as taking care of the paperwork. Kat was quickly whisked away, presumably into emergency surgery. Once she had been rushed past the emergency room doors, the place got still and quiet. Brick and the some of the other brothers had stayed behind at the accident site to deal with the sheriff and the fire department. Joker was dead, but Mute wished he could go back and kill him again.
Stud had found Mackie, and had already brought him here earlier. The old man was stable, but still admitted for the night and was resting in a room. Stud had volunteered to stay with him, giving Mute the freedom to pace and worry. Betsey and Tambre had showed up and settled in like waiting room veterans, Betsey with her e-reader, and Tambre with her knitting. The brightly colored scarf was only a few rows when Tambre had arrived. Now, it was at least a foot and a half long.
“You doin’ okay, Mute? Need somethin’?” Betsey looked up from her e-reader, a pair of multicolored reading glasses perched on her nose.
Mute shook his head. I can’t sit. If I sit, I’ll think. If I think, I’ll lose it.
He resumed his pacing. Damage, so much damage. So much blood. Fuck! His thoughts exploded anyway. He had seen other people who had tangled with the Tail and lost. Ones that didn’t have nearly the injuries that Kat did. Her breathing on the frantic ride to the hospital had gotten shallower and shallower, and was undetectable when they pulled up to the emergency bay. Mute was searching for a pulse when the trauma team took over.
Night had fallen. Mute, feeling the need for what privacy he could get, turned away from everyone and went over to the large windows that made up one end of the waiting room. During the day, the view through these windows would be spectacular, showing off the beauty of the Smoky Mountains. Now, in the full dark of night, only a shadow of the mountains could be seen. The sky was clear and black, full of stars. Mute spread his arms and gripped the metal frame of the window, gazing upward. The gentle sparkle was solemn and calming. The noises of the hospital faded as he watched.
Diamonds, he thought. Diamonds in the sky. Pure beauty. Kat should have diamonds. She needs to wear mine. Every day, my Kat should have my diamonds on her. I need to get her some. I need to put my diamond on her finger. I need…. His mangled throat closed up and he nearly choked from the emotion. I need my Kat! His grip on the frame tightened as tears flowed freely down his face. He closed his streaming eyes to the glittering view, and for the first time in his life he prayed to a God he’d never really believed in.
I don’t know if you’re there. If you’re real, or just something people use as an excuse. I never really got into the church thing. Never tried, but I hope you won’t hold that against me. But if what they say is true and you’re all about grace and mercy, please, I’m begging you, please, don’t take my Kat away! She don’t deserve it! She’s been through enough hell in her life and don’t need to die in one! I ain’t a good man. I can’t promise to ever be one, and I ain’t gonna lie to you about it.
He lowered his head. But what I can promise is I will do whatever it takes to make her happy, and I will always protect her and put her life before mine. I will love her with every cell in my body until the last breath I take on this earth, and if needed, I will take her place and die for her!
He pressed his forehead against the glass. Please, please, please, don’t take my Kat away!
“Family for Katrina Vega?” a weary voice called out. Mute heard Betsey jump up, the vinyl of the chair squeaking as she did.
“Family’s right here, Doctor. How’s my girl?” Betsey’s voice was hoarse with fatigue and worry, but she still sounded like the strong matriarch she was.
Mute didn’t turn around. He opened his eyes and looked up once again at the perfect night sky. The glittering stars winked at him, and their serenity washed over him. He felt their light touch his face and a sense of calmness surrounded him. He relaxed his death grip on the window frame, already knowing the answer.
“She was touch and go for a bit, but she’s one tough lady. She’ll be fine.”
The rest of the doctor’s words blurred in Mute’s ears. His legs buckled, and he went to his knees, hands on the floor. He was full. Too full. Loud garbled noises came from his ruined throat as he let it all out in great sobs.
“Oh, my God! Mute!” he vaguely heard Tambre say. A moment later, he felt both women’s arms around him. Betsey crooned in his ear, her own voice breaking as she cried with him. “She’s gonna be all right, baby, she’s gonna be just fine!”
Mute stayed still, his mouth forming the words over and over again. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
Chapter 19
Eight months later…
Betsey slid the last of the cookies into the oven and took the mitts off her hands. She straightened, and felt her spine crack and pop as she stretched. Lord, have mercy! she thought. I’m getting too old for this kinda work. She smiled as she looked out the kitchen window. But it’s worth every Tylenol pill I gotta take later.
Every counter in the club kitchen was covered in massive platters of food, ready to roll out when the guests started coming later that afternoon. Tambre, Molly, and some of the other club women were finishing up the decorations in the courtyard outside the Lair, and the prospects were busy setting up every folding chair and table the club owned. Brick was outside as well, helping to “supervise,” as he called it when he sat and watched the two huge barrel smokers while they cooked ribs and BBQ while holding a beer in his hand.
Betsey glanced at the clear blue sky, closed her eyes, and tilted her head back to feel the heat of the sun’s rays through the glass. The ear
ly morning fog had already been burned off, so there was nothing to cover the beauty of the day. Fall colors were starting to show, dotting the mountains with bits of red and gold. The new River’s Edge Bar was almost complete. The club had hired a family construction company called Pub Builders, known for their innovative designs and work on bars. An Irish family, with the father, five sons, and one feisty redheaded daughter. They had been working on the project all summer, and the new place was bigger and nicer than the old one. Life was good.
Betsey turned, slipped the mitts back on, and pulled the crisp golden cookies out of the oven. She turned off the heat and finally let the appliance rest. Molly came in the kitchen, Tambre following at a slower pace.
“Bunting is up, tables are covered, both the round ones and the serving ones. Cake delivery just called and they’re gonna be here in a half hour. Weather is supposed to be good and stay that way at least for the afternoon. Probably get a shower or two this evening. Always happens this time a year,” Molly announced, plopping down in the closest chair and fanning herself. “Ooh, Lord have mercy! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I’m havin’ a hot flash!”
“Your boobs starting to sweat underneath?” Betsey asked with a mischievous grin. “I’ve got some cut-up chamois cloths I tuck up under there. Works pretty good!”
Tambre rolled her eyes and snagged a still-warm cookie. “Boob sweat ain’t nothing like the night sweats. Taz still has nightmares of waking up to the bed on fire. Swears our heating bill was cut in half that winter ‘cause I was hot enough to heat the whole house.”
Brick walked in as Tambre said the words “boob sweat,” and promptly walked back out. All three women died laughing.
Betsey wiped her eyes. “That’s my rough ‘n’ tough old man! He can face down a mountain lion, have prospects shakin’ in their boots, but anything about women’s stuff, he’s running away as fast as he can! I’d better get him his beer. He’s gotta big role to play in a few hours.”
She walked outside into the crisp air smelling deeply of the delicious scent of hickory and barbeque. She handed Brick a cold bottle and sat down in the lawn chair next to his. He grunted his thanks and leaned back, taking a long pull.
“Fine day, ain’t it, darlin’,” Betsey said, more as a statement than a question. “Good one to have us a wedding. I’m so happy our boy got hisself a good woman.”
Brick hiccupped and burped. “Damn miracle she’s alive. Damn near lost her. Woulda lost ‘em both.”
“You got that right, sugar,” Betsey reflected solemnly. “I ain’t never seen no one hurt that bad and live. Broke ribs, punctured and collapsed lung, concussion, so many scrapes and cuts… Lord have mercy! After hearing she was gonna live and then watching my boy fall to his knees, I knew they were gonna be in for the long haul. That’s a kind of love that only happens in them romance books Molly reads all the time.”
Brick threaded his fingers through Betsey’s. “I think we do a pretty good job ourselves, don’t we, Mama B?”
Betsey smiled, leaned over, and kissed the man she called her old man.
“Betsey!” Tambre hollered from the porch. “They’re here!”
Betsey waved and leaped up out of the chair. “See you up at the house, Papa B. You’re doing a fine job with them ribs.” She laughed.
Betsey watched the multitude of guests wandering around the courtyard and worried again for the umpteenth time about whether or not there was enough BBQ. A biker club wedding was always a big celebration, and brothers from other Dragon Runners’ chapters had shown up to see Mute and Kat get married. She was tempted to send a prospect out to get some ready-made from the Ingles down the road, but a sudden roaring noise cut through her thoughts.
“God A’mighty! I’m late!” she said out loud, and hurried to get to her spot.
Kat had been fine with just being an old lady, but Mute had insisted that they go the distance and she become a wife as well. His wife. She really didn’t want all the attention, but Mute never let up and wouldn’t give in until she agreed to the big wedding with all the trimmings. Betsey chuckled a bit. She had been in the hospital room when Mute stomped in the room with a fierce scowl on his face and a small velvet box. He had popped open the top, and barely let Kat glimpse the huge rock before he took her left hand and shoved it on the fourth finger. His look dared her to take it off. Kat had stared bewildered at her now-sparkling hand, and said to Mute as if answering his question, “Yes.”
The roaring got louder as the club members on their bikes got closer. They were riding in a two-by-two formation, coming up the long driveway to the festooned courtyard. Club flags were flying behind the men. Mute was in the lead on his massive black Harley, dressed in a tux with biker boots. Somehow it worked on him. Biker pageantry at its best, Betsey thought as she watched row after row come down the wide aisle, turn, and circle back. Mute drove up to the gazebo that had been put up for the day. The pastor had arrived and was waiting there already. Stud drove up and backed his bike next to Mute’s. He was standing as the best man, since Mackie had passed.
Betsey’s lip quivered a little. The old man hadn’t been able to fully recover from the blow Joker had dealt him, and even though he had healed up enough to go home, he was never able to move quite the same. He passed quietly in his sleep, taking a nap in his recliner. After the funeral, a letter arrived for Mute containing a copy of the old man’s last will leaving everything he had to him and Kat. No one had any idea how large that estate was until they looked at the property deed and bank accounts. Mackie had been a very wealthy man. Mute had been humbled by the gift, and used a good part of it, along with the insurance money, to get the new River’s Edge up and running, making it bigger and better than before.
The guests filled the rows of chairs in front of the gazebo, now flanked by row after row of club brothers. The music was nothing more than a boom box in front of a microphone set up with outdoor speakers. The prospect in charge of it started a recording. Taz drove up with Tambre riding sidesaddle behind him, wearing a long red dress and her property of club cut. Cutter followed closely with Molly, also in red with her cut. Betsey was driven up to the gazebo by Bruiser. All three carried thick bouquets of deep red roses.
The motorcycles revved up loudly, drowning out the sounds of the wedding march as it played on the boom box. Brick drove up slowly, his bike covered in flowers and bunting, Kat sitting sideways behind him, dressed in a long plain white maxi dress with spaghetti straps at the shoulders and more flowers in her loose hair. Molly had attempted to get Kat to wear a fancy beaded and sparkly dress, but Kat won that battle and had the dress made for her. She opted not to have a veil either. She was smiling large, and tears flowed down her cheeks. Brick eased her off the back and brought her to stand in front of the gazebo. Mute dismounted from his bike and stood there, waiting. He had eyes only for her.
The ceremony went off without a hitch. Mute took his vows by nodding, and Kat said hers in a quavery but firm voice. When the time came for the rings, she picked up the plain gold band and pushed it onto Mute’s left ring finger. Mute did the same with a delicate band encircled with diamonds, and then turned to get something from Stud. He held out a special-made cut with the Dragon Runners’ colors, top rocker, and the words on the back, Property of Mute. Kat lost it, tears of joy running down her face as she slipped on the cut that bound her tighter to Mute than any ring.
Betsey started clapping as Mute bent to thoroughly kiss his new bride. Deep-throated howls and yells filled the air, and bikes revved. Stud brought Mute’s bike around to the front, and the entire assembly watched, yelling and clapping, while Mute drove back down the aisle with his brand-new smiling wife riding on the back, holding him close.
As the rest of the guests followed the newlyweds to the lavish reception, Brick leaned over and put his arm around a crying Betsey. She snuggled into his bulky warmth.
“Can’t ask for more in this life. Riding free. Riding clean. Riding with a good woman at your back,” he
intoned in his rough voice.
She rolled her eyes, dashed the wetness from them, and pushed him away. “I ain’t got time for your old-man philosophizin’! I gotta get up there and see to the food. No telling what them girls is up to.”
He guffawed and grabbed for her ass. “They ain’t gonna miss us for a bit. Let’s have our own honeymoon!”
“Get off, you horny old goat!” She laughed, not able to keep up her outrage.
“Love you to pieces, Betsey,” he suddenly declared, his face going serious as he looked at her.
She smiled back at him. “Love you too, Brick. Now let’s go celebrate!”
Be on the look out for book 2 in the Dragon Runners series.
www.hottreepublishing.com/stud
Acknowledgments
Thank you so much for reading the story of Mute and Kat! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it.
There is a lot of truth to this story as some of the places are real places and some of the characters are based on real people. For instance, the Tail of the Dragon is a real road. An eleven mile stretch of route 129 and some of the curviest asphalt ever made. There are some arguments where the Tail actually starts. Some say North Carolina and some say in Tennessee, but no one argues the tension and the thrill of riding on it. Bryson City is also a real place in North Carolina and is technically nowhere near the Tail but in the world of the Dragon Runners, I brought the two places together.
Mackie is one of my favorite people in real life. He is based on my step father, who is indeed a veteran and war hero. He lost his right arm in service to his country but never let that slow him down. Even with the diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease, he has remained optimistic and is as fun loving and entertaining as he has always been throughout his life. You go Papa Don!