by Sarah Gai
“Nope, not once. He would call me from the payphone when he arrived every summer and tell me to meet him at Pesky’s Bar with his money and I would. I’m so sorry Autumn…I’m just so sorry,” Ava cried, falling to the floor next to her niece.
Autumn could not help herself as she wrapped her arms around Ava reluctantly. They remained like that, silent as Autumn tried to filter all the information. She was exhausted and hurt and a part of her still felt deeply betrayed. The past was unchangeable, but surely there could have been a way to let her know all those years ago; to be kept in the dark even after she returned punctured Autumn’s heart.
As Ava’s cries ceased, Autumn let her go and they both stood up as Ava wiped the tears from her eyes. “You’re still leaving, aren’t you?” she asked, pointing to the suitcase at the end of the bed.
“I have to. I need to go settle things for my father in Las Vegas. And…I…need time.”
“Will you come back?”
Autumn was unsure how she could come back and deal with everything. What about Sharon—her mother. What about Eric? Oh God, Eric, she has to tell him. Suddenly she was struck with a questionable thought. “Who else knows about this?”
Ava’s head jerked up, “No one until…”
“Until what Ava?”
“When you didn’t return that summer, I went to Pastor Graham to see what we could do. I called the police, but they wouldn’t help knowing your father’s history as a traveller it wasn’t in their jurisdiction. Eric was there and…he heard us.”
They knew? They both knew and they never mentioned it to her?
She couldn’t handle it all; she finished packing her suitcase and walked past a devastated Ava, still standing in the same spot in Autumn’s room.
Autumn stopped in the doorway, her back facing the hallway, and said one final thing to Ava, “Tell Sharon…I love her.”
Autumn
Autumn found herself back on the bus, headed for Las Vegas, Nevada, the last place she swore she’d return to after leaving it several months ago. Opening her purse, she pulled out her beaten up Bible. The words, familiar and soothing, were enough to relax her mind and body.
She let the book fall open in her lap and glanced at the Polaroid picture of her and Eric. What was she going to do? Everything was finally falling into place; she had a real home, a job she could only have hoped for, an education she was finally able to receive, and the man she loved whom loved her, too. Looking at their smiles, she realized something; maybe God didn’t speak directly to each person, but instead spoke through smaller things—like Sharon, loving to braid her hair, or Ava, always looking out for her. But most of all, Eric, whom she knew with him in her life she would always know how it felt to be loved and wanted.
She knew it would not take long for Ava to alert her friends about where she was going so she had to think quickly. Should she sort things out in Nevada, then, as she had been raised, move on to somewhere else or should she head back to Ligonier? But how could she return to Ligonier now after all that has happened? So many secrets were hidden for so long—she felt betrayed.
Autumn understood why Ava kept things from her before, but she wasn’t a child anymore; Ava should have told her. She had a right to know the truth.
Autumn slid down in her seat and stared at the darkness outside her window trying to understand the situation from Ava’s perspective. Little thoughts entered her mind as to how she was never clued in to the facts. Her birth certificate listed her mother’s name as S.M. Gains, which was odd considering the fact Ava and Sharon go by the last name of Hartley. Autumn did not even have a photograph of her mother so why would she ever have suspected. Her memories were that of a three-year old, which she knew was mostly a caricature of what she hoped her mother was like. How did she not piece these things together?
She was so hurt and felt foolish knowing the best people surrounding her kept the secrets of her life hidden away, a treasure chest of knowledge with an undiscoverable map. It was driving an invisible wedge between them; Autumn reminisced about their dinners together, their laughter, those moments of happiness she felt, yet now, in retrospect, she saw things through new eyes in which those memories were tainted with untold truths.
She wondered if anyone else knew like Meg and Aiden or Mrs. Brooks and Mrs. O’Connor. Had everything been one big lie? Autumn closed her eyes and prayed for a few hours of sleep so she didn’t feel so lost and confused.
Sweet Sharon was…her mother.
As Autumn arrived back in Las Vegas, her body was cramped after a day and a half bus trip with only three short rest stops. She stood up and stretched before reluctantly grabbing her suitcase for the forty-minute walk back to her father’s apartment.
She was grateful for the time though, as the walk allowed her to reflect upon the promise she made to herself never to return. Although she knew when she left her father was dying, there was always an innuendo he would live forever, to continuously haunt her and have a hold on her. He was a monster and she could not comprehend how someone could do something like that to another person, especially his wife and child.
Liam Nash thought of no one but himself and Autumn was finally ashamed to call him her father. For a long time, she thought all the beatings and word flinging would have crushed anyone weaker than herself. Her only reprieve from his abuse came when he had fallen too ill to raise a hand to her.
By the time Autumn made it back to the apartment, she was amazed how short the walk seemed as she was consumed with her thoughts.
As she approached the front of the apartment building, she witnessed a sight she only ever saw once before—at least ten Harleys were lined up outside the apartment building. She stepped up the front steps and the bikers all stood, causing Autumn to visibly swallow. Her hands began to feel unsteady as she searched her satchel for the old apartment key. Glancing closer, she managed to read one of the biker’s patches: The Heathens. She paused, cognizant of the name she thought about from time to time because of…Eric.
Sauntering over was a tall, burly man in his mid-forties with a long graying beard, sunglasses, and tattoos snaking their way across his shoulder blades and down to his knuckles. He didn’t smile as he pulled up short of a foot away and asked in a contradictory voice, “You Autumn?” His intonation had a sweetness to it she never anticipated.
Autumn nodded at him, wondering whether she should have lied; for all she knew he could be there to do her harm.
“Great! I’m Trevor,” he held out his bear-sized hand and raised his glasses to the top of his head showing, chocolate brown eyes.
Autumn cautiously shook his hand; he had a gentle grip and, once again, it was unexpected. She was thinking she may have read one too many MC books because most bikers did not act like Trevor.
As Autumn released her grip, she inquired, “Ahh, okay…so why are you here? What do you want?”
“Alec and Eric called us and asked a favor. They’re on their way, but, you see, we were closer by a good twelve hours.”
“That’s great, but you didn’t answer my question. Why are you here? I’m more than capable of looking after myself and, well, my father is dead so I’m not afraid,” she answered earnestly, raising her chin in confidence as she wasn’t about to let a stranger see once ounce of fear.. But she was lying through her teeth because everything about being back scared her to the core.
Trevor beamed down at her, impressed and immediately taken with her spitfire personality. He chuckled to himself. “Well little lady, you wouldn’t be saying that now if you entered your apartment. Seems your daddy still owed a shit load of money,” he tilted his head towards the building’s front door.
Autumn looked at the large man with confusion. What about her father’s apartment and how does he know what has occurred in there?
With a lift of his head, three more bikers joined Trevor who held his elbow out towards Autumn in a very gentlemanly way. She cautiously looped her hand through it, wondering if she was making the righ
t choice or walking into a trap. Nonetheless, a peace settled within her and the warning bells dissipated so she took the chance.
Trevor led her through the building all the way up the three flights of stairs. As they neared her old apartment, Autumn had her keys ready, but there was no need as she noticed the broken lock.
The burly man looked down at her, “Think you’re ready to see what’s behind this door? If you’re squeamish, it’s best to turn around and walk back downstairs.”
Autumn hesitated, wondering what he was talking about, but her questions faded as her lack of understanding basic things, due to her sheltered life, returned. She wished she had a cell phone; Heaven knows they all tried to convince her to get one, but she figured she lasted twenty-four years without one. But at that moment she wanted to call Eric to verify these guys weren’t about to walk her into Hell.
She nodded toward Trevor, faking bravado again, but the moment he pushed the door open she saw her suspicions were in line.
Autumn
The apartment door swung in and Autumn gasped, taking a step back. Her stomach wanted to upheave non-existent food. It was not the memories of the place or the lack of her father’s presence that riled her emotions; rather, it was the two men covered in blood and tied to chairs that had her wanting to run.
Barely recognizable by their bruised and battered features, still Autumn knew they were the men her father tried to give her to as payment for his unpaid gambling debts.
Autumn dropped her hand from her mouth. “How? W…why are they here?” she pointed towards one of the figures; his arms were tied behind the chair and one eye was swollen shut while the other was stiff with fear. His mouth was taped and she could see the blood from his face slowly dripping and puddling onto the floor.
Trevor gently pulled her through the door, his brothers closing the ranks and boxing her in to protect her in case any trouble broke loose. From the scene in front of her, she didn’t think anything else was going to happen; the two men were not going anywhere, much less retaliating.
“Well, you see, me and the boys arrived here last night and scouted out your apartment building, taking shifts to watch for your arrival. Then Nico here,” he tilted his head towards the large man flanked on Autumn’s right side.
She looked up to see a dark haired young man, not much older than she, with hard amber eyes and a scar running the length of his left cheek. He nodded once down to her and she quickly turned her attention back to Trevor.
“…saw these two goons entering the apartment, so he followed them. And what do you know, they came right up to the apartment we were waiting for you to come back to. Nico called us and we came as fast as we could.”
“But why do they look this way?” she flailed her arm about pointing between the two bloody figures.
“Ahh, well, we got into a scuffle after…let’s call them Tweedle Dee on the left and Tweedle friggin’ Dum on the right there, pulled guns. They really should have learned to aim better.” Trevor left her side and walked over to the man on the right and punched him in his already battered face. Blood dribbled from his mouth under the tape as his head whipped to the side.
Autumn screamed and covered her mouth, backing up into the body of another heathen who gently placed his hands on her shoulders causing her to shriek.
Trevor turned and in two strides was in front of her with his palms up. “It’s okay little lady, no one’s gonna hurt ya,” he promised. “I normally wouldn’t let such a sweet girl see this sort of thing, but seems your father left you one last parting gift. And I tell you if he was still alive, I’d make sure he didn’t die any faster the second time round,” he growled as he shifted his gaze back towards the two captive men. “How about we let them tell you, shall we?”
Nico stepped forward towards the large man on the right who tried shuffling his chair back and away though he had nowhere to go; if Autumn were in his shoes, she would be doing the same thing. When Nico reached the thug’s side, he forcefully ripped the duct tape from the man’s mouth.
“Please…please. I’m sorry! I was just doing my job! Please, don’t kill me!” he cried, as blood continued to drip from his mouth, his two front teeth missing.
Nico pulled a knife from his boot and the man screamed. Walking with the knife straight out in front of him, Nico stopped in front of the man tied up on the left. Without a second thought, he rammed the blade into the man’s knee.
The hands resting on Autumn’s shoulders reached up and temporarily covered her eyes as she screamed again. The man made a blood-curdling wail, even with his mouth duct taped until his face fell forward and silence ensued.
“No Brent, she needs to see this,” Trevor explained to the man behind Autumn. Reluctantly, he removed his hands and placed them back on her shoulders.
Autumn looked at the other man on the left Trevor called Tweedle Dee; she could see his chest moving and she breathed a sigh of relief realizing he was only passed out and not dead.
“You see, Charles here—say hello, Charles,” he commanded the whimpering, scared man to answer.
“Hel…hello…hello Autumn,” he sniveled, his crying uncontrollable. The Heathens truly beat him down; his mottled purple and red swollen face depicted the scene he endured before Autumn’s arrival.
“Well, I believe you may have met before, but you see, Charles here and his buddy, named Who-the-heck-cares, were coming around waiting for their payment. See, your daddy owed them a lot of money. Apparently, they never received the sixty grand your aunt sent. How ‘bout you finish this story for me Charlie boy?” Trevor laughed. It was haunting as his hands curled into fists, as if his demeanor was unreflective of his true feelings about the situation.
“I’m sorry Autumn, but your father paid us nothin’. He said when he died you would be coming back here. Said you could work off his debts in one of Archer’s clubs and the boss agreed. We had nothin’ to do with it. We was just doing our jobs,” he cried out to her.
Autumn couldn’t believe it. It was characteristic of her father to have one last tormenting laugh on his deathbed, but she refused to attempt to understand how Liam could hate her so much. She would never get the answer now except to recognize some people were just evil. Liam had a soul so black, it never saw the light and not one ounce of goodness could ever penetrate the hardened casing around his very being. It took a few minutes for her to accept the fact, but then she stopped crying and found her inner strength, the one that kept her going throughout her life with the monster known as her father.
“You came here to get me?” she barked at the man named Charles. He nodded regretfully, but Autumn had no sympathy for the man; if he hadn’t been beaten to a pulp already, he would have taken her as payment. She broke free from the gentle hold Brent had on her and bolted toward the broken figure, slapping him with all the anger and hurt that momentarily consumed her. “How could you? How? Where’s the money? Where is it?” She hit him with every bit of rage tearing through her body, absentminded of the derivative of her malice, until strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her away.
Autumn kicked and wailed as she was torn away. Through her fit of fury, she gaped at Charles whose head was hanging; as if she was thrown in ice-cold water, the reality of the last few seconds and what she did caught up to her. She instantly stopped flailing around and threw her hands up to cover her mouth before muffling, “Oh my God, I killed him!”
Nico walked over and placed his fingers on the man’s throat, feeling for a pulse. “Nah, he’s still alive, just passed out like his buddy there,” Nico chuckled.
“Calm down Autumn,” Trevor whispered behind her still holding her around the waist and keeping her in one spot. She was at least thankful for that part, especially since her legs felt like Jell-O as her entire body shook uncontrollably.
“As you can see, we ransacked your daddy’s place. And lo and behold we found the money hidden in the floorboards inches from this room—a cliché, I know. Wrapped around the cash was a
note and that’s how we knew it was the money from Ava. We called Eric to find out the rest of the details. Obviously, your father was too sick to gamble anymore, seeing the money was still here, but he was too evil to pay his debts, too. See, I told you, seems he wanted the last laugh, to hurt you one last time by giving you over to these boys as payment, but this time it’s you who has the last laugh because he didn’t win,” Trevor assured her.
Autumn finally looked around the apartment to take in the whole scene—couches were torn to threads with stuffing all over the floor, drawers were pulled out, and utensils were scattered everywhere. Autumn’s anger was unmistakable as she stopped her surveying and focused on the unconscious men before her.
“Don’t kill them,” Autumn whispered to the burly man. She hated the two men she barely knew, but she was not a killer. Autumn believed divine intervention saved her; if not for the Heathens she met just ten minutes ago, she would be living a very different life, the outcome too unthinkable.
“Nah, we won’t kill ‘em. See, this was just a warning. We’ll send them on their way soon enough with the money your daddy owed their boss and you’ll never have to see them again, that I promise you. We happen to know Archer, had dealings with him before, and there’s no way he will pursue this.” With one quick squeeze around her waist, Trevor released Autumn and stepped back.
Autumn was curious how they knew Archer, but then she remembered Alec telling her the Heathens MC weren’t always legit in their dealings. This wasn’t the life she wanted to be involved with anyway, so she let it slide.
Autumn didn’t want to be in the room a moment longer. All the drama of the past few days, the lies and secrets, seemed so minute compared to what just happened. She knew without a doubt everything could be worked through. There was no love lost in that room, but with Ava, Sharon, Eric, and her friends, she had love and a home.
She turned to the man who quite literally saved her life, reaching out and grabbing the burly man’s hand. “Thank you…I don’t…”