Deserter

by Myers, Shannon

  “You’re right,” I admitted.

  “Of course I am. You didn’t marry a dummy.”

  I swatted her ass as she stood up and pulled her back against my chest, letting my fingers dip beneath the lace of her bra. “Once this little party’s over, I’ve got ideas on how to celebrate our first anniversary.”

  Celia watched our reflections in the mirror with an arched brow. “Our anniversary was yesterday and, if I remember correctly, you celebrated plenty.”

  “Fuck, Celia,” I growled against her ear. “Let’s make a weekend of it.”

  * * *

  “I can’t reach her by phone,” Celia said with a sigh as I closed the front door behind Wolverine and Lucy.

  “Maybe she got hung up at work. Luce said she’d picked up more shifts.”

  “That’s not like her. She wouldn’t just forget about her goddaughter’s birthday. Something’s wrong.”

  Mikey and Kate lay passed out next to each other on the carpet in the den while The Land Before Time played quietly on the television in front of them.

  They’d both had their fill of cake and cookies and I’d been convinced they’d be awake for days. Instead, they’d run themselves into the ground. Literally.

  “Let’s get them settled and I’ll ride over; see if she’s at home. Would that make you feel better?”

  Celia nodded. “Thank you. I just want to make sure she’s okay. If she’s gone off with another guy, so help me, I’m gonna strangle her.”

  “Alright. First, we’ll make sure she’s okay, and then kill her.”

  “Yeah. That sounds good,” she answered distractedly as she carefully lifted Kate from the carpet. I watched in amusement as she casually carried our daughter down the hall to the nursery, as if she hadn’t just agreed to murder.

  A normal man wouldn’t have gotten turned on by that.

  I’d never been one of those though.

  “C’mon, Mikey.” I gathered him up in my arms. His head lolled back against my chest; mouth stained hot pink from all the sweets.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” he mumbled, not fully awake, but conscious enough to confuse me with the bastard who laid hands on him.

  My chest constricted painfully as I forced out, “Don’t apologize to me, kid.”

  He mumbled nonsense in return, and I realized that he was still out. I shifted him in my arms as I pulled the comforter down and, suddenly feeling brave, whispered, “Daddy’s got you now.”

  I sat down on the side of the bed but couldn’t find the strength to let go of him. Instead, I rocked back and forth with him, just like I did Kate, while telling him all the things I had to keep hidden when he was awake. The words had been building up for years. I couldn’t stop now if I tried.

  “When I was your age, my old man beat on me too. I know it don’t feel like it, but someday, it’ll get better. Guys like that are fuckin’ weak—they go after people who can’t defend themselves…” His dark eyelashes fluttered as he slept, but he burrowed his face closer into my chest, as if there was a part of him that heard me.

  Maybe a part of him knew who I was. If so, he deserved more than me spouting off sugar-coated bullshit.

  “I know that means jack shit right now. I should’ve done better by you.” I tightened my hold on him. “I never should’ve left you with them. I know that now. I had the chance to take him out and I blew it.”

  I continued rocking him, thinking about that night in the bar and how, for the first time ever, Slim had given me shit advice.

  Tonight had only been a bitter reminder of the family we could’ve been had I not been such a pussy. It didn’t stop me from pouring my fucking guts out to him though.

  I was seven when I had my first confession. My mother had eased me into it with the required classes and my first communion, before telling me that Father Sullivan would guide me through reconciliation.

  I was free to say whatever was on my chest inside the confessional. I’d been a scared kid, even back then, and I’d become fixated on the idea that I was going to Hell. I’d talked to Father until my voice went hoarse; admitting my every sin since birth.

  Holding him like this was like being back inside that booth—scared and in need of forgiveness for all the ways I’d failed him.

  “Your batting is getting really good. I was at your tournament last weekend, but I didn’t want your ma to see me, so I stayed back. I wasn’t like you; wasn’t ever good at anything. My old man used to tell me that all I was good for was ruining lives.”

  Maybe he’d been right about that.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. “You’re my boy and I will keep you safe, okay? I’m sorry, buddy. Daddy is so sorry. I fucked it all up.”

  At the soft intake of breath, I whipped my head toward the door and found Celia, hand clapped over her mouth, with tears streaming down her cheeks. “Jamie,” she choked.

  I roughly ran a hand over my face and turned away from her before releasing the death grip I had on my son. I pressed my lips to his forehead. “Sleep good, Mikey.”

  Celia was waiting in the hall, but I bypassed her and headed straight for the door.

  I couldn’t talk about it.

  What was I gonna say?

  Let’s fuck the plan and kidnap the kid?

  Use the club to take out his pathetic excuses for parents?

  Jesus, Celia had shown more affection for him than the woman who’d brought him into this world.

  I reached the door and stopped, keeping my back to her. “I’m gonna go check on Molly. I’ll be right back, princess.”

  “Jamie, do you—”

  “Be back in a few.” I pulled the door closed behind me and let the first few tears begin to fall as I climbed onto my bike.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried—it had to have been the night Ma died.

  Incidentally, it was also the last time I prayed.

  Tonight, my tears were prayers.

  For forgiveness.

  For family.

  For strength to do the impossible.

  * * *

  The tiny duplex Molly called home was dark when I rode up. I let out a curse and was about to take off for the restaurant she worked at when I realized the garage was open.

  I hopped off my bike and crept up the gravel driveway, feeling like the world’s biggest fool. She’d probably brought someone home and hadn’t bothered to shut the garage.

  Fuck.

  If I knew Molly, she was fucking the guy in the front seat.

  I should’ve been at home, soaking up every minute with my children under the same roof. Instead, I was tracking down a woman who pulled disappearing acts all the time.

  “Not sure why Celia thought you’d get your shit together for your goddaughter’s birthday,” I grumbled to myself as I walked up to the front door.

  My repeated mashing on the doorbell went unanswered and the house remained dark. I had two choices—ride back and tell Celia I couldn’t find Molly or find a way inside, knowing I was going to see more than I wanted.

  Neither was particularly appealing, but the second option left sex with my wife on the table. I cracked my knuckles and ventured around the side of the house, peering into the windows for signs of life.

  I hopped the fence, after ensuring that there were no witnesses around to alert the cops. The last thing I needed was to spend my evening in handcuffs because Molly couldn’t get her shit together.

  It was so dark that I didn’t see the back door sitting wide open until I reached the porch.

  Sharp shards of wood splintered out from the frame like spikes. The door itself was torqued from the impact and the hinges squeaked in protest as I pushed it open, keeping a hand on my gun.

  “Molly?” I kept my voice low, straining to hear the slightest sound over the rush of blood in my ears. I didn’t mind a good fight but wasn’t prepared for an ambush.

  There was a low moan from the bedroom. My boots crunched over the door fragments as I made my
way toward it. I tried flipping the switch, but the room remained dark.

  Someone had cut the power, indicating that this was a planned attack.

  “Molly?”

  “Grey?” She whispered. “Is that you?”

  “I’m here.” I felt along the wall, following the sound of her sobs before kneeling beside the bed. She was on her back, I knew that much, but it was still too dark for me to see how badly she was hurt. “Is there a flashlight?”

  With a soft hiccup, she replied, “Top drawer of the nightstand,” before moaning again.

  I retrieved it and quickly switched it on, flooding the small room with light.

  As if it was some omen specific to me, I was greeted with the sight of blood. She shielded her eyes and turned away, but not before I saw the bruises on her face. I felt along her body, trying to find the wound. “What happened?”

  She broke down again. “Carlos—beat me and, and stabbed me—”

  I kept my voice steady and calm while committing the details to memory. I’d remember it later when I went after the son-of-a-bitch. “I need to stop the bleeding, doll. Where’d he get ya?”

  Molly raised her shirt and I saw the slash across her upper abdomen. “I’m p-pregnant, Grey. He said—he said he didn’t want kids.”

  I clenched my jaw and studied the wound again, wondering how in the hell I was going to tell her that she probably wasn’t anymore. “Carlos, he a gangbanger?”

  Sweat beaded down her pale face and she nodded. “Los Dictadores. Do you know them?”

  I was familiar with the fuckers. “Yeah. Let’s get you up off the floor.” Her eyes rolled back in her head as soon as I lifted her up. I laid her down gently before pressing the sheet against her stomach to stop the blood flow.

  With my other hand, I grabbed the phone from its cradle, relieved to hear a dial tone. Carlos hadn’t thought of that. Wolverine answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Need you to come to Molly’s,” I said tersely, keeping pressure on the wound. “And bring Doc. Hell, bring everybody.”

  “We ridin’ after?”

  That was the thing about Wolverine. He’d been in this world long enough to know that I wasn’t calling him in the middle of the night to chat.

  I knew what he was really asking—he wanted to know if we were going to be putting down the mother fuckers responsible.

  “Absolutely, brother. Just get here.”

  I hung up just as Molly came to, fighting against my hand. She must’ve remembered what happened because she suddenly stopped and began weeping again. “Grey, don’t let me die. Please don’t let me die.”

  “Ain’t gonna let you die, doll. I got help coming. You just try to stay awake for me, yeah?”

  She nodded with another hiccup. “I told Celia I’d found another you. I was so stupid… thinking that he was different.”

  Another me?

  Why the fuck would anyone want that?

  “He know about me? Know what we are?” If he knew about the club then it was safe to assume his gangbanger buddies did too. I didn’t want to have to clean house tonight.

  “No… I swear, I never said a word about you or the club. Lucy would’ve beaten my ass.” Her lips flattened into a straight line and she began shaking from shock.

  “Just relax. You hear that? That’s your uncle’s bike. I’d recognize the sound anywhere. And Doc can’t be too far behind.”

  I went to stand, and she grabbed my arm. “D-don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”

  Wolverine burst in and took my place. “Doc’s right behind me. Who did this to her?”

  “Carlos,” I answered for her. “Los Dictadores. You heard of him? Know where he hangs out?”

  “The Ranch,” Molly quietly responded. “Every Saturday.”

  Why wouldn’t he be at a strip club every weekend?

  It wasn’t like he had a girl waiting on him at home. And of course, it had to be a strip club owned by a former rival club.

  Doc arrived and tasked us with getting the electricity back on so he could work. Wolverine stopped me as I headed out to the power box.

  “Wait a minute. Look at this. Fucker didn’t cut the power; he smashed the goddamn lightbulbs.”

  “She told him she was pregnant,” I said as we surveyed the cabinets, searching for spare bulbs.

  “I knew. She was with Luce when she found out. Cocksucker don’t wanna be a daddy, we’ll help him out with that. He dies tonight.”

  I agreed and we began replacing lightbulbs just as the others pulled up. Carlos would be begging for death by the time we were done with him.

  I hadn’t killed in a long time.

  My heart raced and I fought to hide the grin that was creeping onto my face. Things had been calm with the syndicate in place.

  Too calm.

  Bear, who’d always been partial to Molly, waited impatiently in the hallway for an update. “We handlin’ this, Grey?”

  “As soon as we know she’s gonna be okay and we get her settled, we’ll deal with the gangbanger.”

  The bedroom door opened, and Doc stepped out. “I gave her some meds for the pain. She’ll be out for a while. It’s gonna leave a scar, but it could’ve been a lot worse.”

  I cracked my knuckles, already gearing up for the fight. “The baby?”

  Doc smiled. “Guy was stupid. Without the lights, he assumed that he took care of it. Blade didn’t go in deep and missed damn near everything. He did beat the shit out of her though, so now we wait and see.”

  Bear brought a fist up to his mouth, suddenly looking a little green. “Baby? She’s knocked up?”

  “The fuck does it matter?” Wolverine snapped. “We gonna kill this guy or plan a goddamn baby shower?”

  I smirked. “The old man needs to get the murderin’ over with so he can get back to bed. He’s got a prostate exam in the morning.”

  “Fuck you. I don’t want that cocksucker breathing the same air as her for a second longer than necessary.”

  His jaw tightened and I backed off. I’d seen the old man deal with any number of threats against the club without breaking a sweat.

  This was family though.

  “We aren’t leaving her here.”

  I turned back to Bear, ready to remind him who called the shots, when I saw the look on his face for what it was.

  The idiot had fallen for a nineteen-year-old girl. And make no mistake, Molly was still very much a girl. She was flighty and flaky and had almost ended up dead at the hands of the latest punk in a long line of punks.

  He was thirty and up until a few seconds ago, appeared to have his shit together. Obviously that assumption had been incorrect because the guy had his head wedged so far up his own ass that it was back on top of his shoulders.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I growled. “Bear, you and Doc get Molly to my place. The rest of us will handle the grown-up shit while you help her pick out colors for the nursery. You can babysit until we’re back.”

  The ride over to the topless bar was uneventful, but as we roared into a nearby parking lot and my men began dismounting and drawing their weapons, it became clear that they were aching for blood just as much as I was.

  “Outlaws still control this club?” Wolverine asked as we stepped off our bikes.

  I nodded. “Yeah. I got some ideas on how to handle that problem though.”

  With a laugh he said, “I bet you do. Now, hear mine.” His smile disappeared and he was suddenly serious again. “Ain’t gonna be one witness left in that building to say jack shit about what went on tonight. How’s that strike you?”

  I adjusted my skull ring with a grin. “Look at you, old man. Getting on the same page as me and everything. We send ‘em to meet the Reaper and torch the place. I figure if we send in Hawk for the girls—”

  “Maybe you didn’t hear me. Not one witness.”

  Fuck.

  I wasn’t okay with taking out women, especially not ones who had fuck all to do with a situation like
this.

  “No,” I finally said, shaking my head.

  Wolverine paused with his gun in his hands. “The fuck you mean, no? You put the goddamned syndicate in place, Jamie. You really think that if the Outlaws get wind of this that they’re still gonna play by your rules? They’ll bring a war. Now, we make it quick. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

  I hadn’t gone up against him as long as I could remember. If there was ever a hill to die on though, this was it. “Last I checked, you handed over the motherfucking reins to me. I control this club and I’m telling you that we aren’t taking out innocent people—”

  “You realize what you’re doing? You’re signing a death warrant for every man here right now. You can take your goddamn treaty and wipe your ass with it for as much as it’ll be worth after tonight.”

  I wiped his spit from my face. “My decision is final. Feel free to sit this one out if you can’t abide by it.”

  Wolverine snarled and took a few steps back. “Goddamn you, kid. You’re gonna get us all killed.”

  I ignored him and rejoined my men. “Listen up. The girls are off-limits. I want them out before anything happens. Every other mother fucker in there is fair game, with the exception of Carlos. Wolverine and I will be dealing with him ourselves. Clear?”

  When they agreed, I singled several out. “Hawk. Pins. You two go in the back and get the girls. Once they’re gone, we’ll begin.”

  So maybe I didn’t have the faintest idea what Carlos looked like or how we were going to take out an entire gang without notice. As far as plans went, it was shit, but we’d dealt with worse odds and bigger enemies before.

  We’d come out on top then and we’d do it again.

  Within a matter of minutes, girls came flying out of the back exit. A girl hopped along on one leg as she struggled to get her other shoe on, jerking her head toward the door as if expecting a bomb to go off.

  I lit up a cigarette and approached her while Wolverine stared me down. “Hey, you know which one of those pricks is Carlos?”

  She let out a strangled shriek and promptly fell onto her ass. “Please don’t kill me, mister. I got a kid at home. I don’t know nothin’ about nothin’.”