Deserter

by Myers, Shannon

  “Which one of those pricks is Carlos? He in there? Think long and hard before you answer, don’t want the wrong guy getting killed.” I patted the gun at my hip to drive my point home.

  “Sure, Carlos. He, uh, he was sitting in the booth in the back corner. He don’t talk to nobody tonight, said he wanted to be left alone.” When I remained silent, she added, “He’s wearing a red jersey, you can’t miss him. Can I go now?”

  I pulled a wad of bills from my pocket and tossed them down to her. “I was never here. You never made it in tonight.”

  She gave me a shaky nod and scrambled to her feet before hopping quickly to her car, still wearing only the one shoe.

  I took another drag and turned to Torch. “Go find the prick and make sure no one touches him.”

  “You got it, Grey.” He jogged up the back steps, bypassing another two strippers on their way out.

  Wolverine crossed his arms over his chest. “The kid I patched in wouldn’t have begged for a stripper’s silence with cash. You’ve gone soft.”

  His words cut deep, but I refused to let him see it. Instead, I exhaled slowly, watching as the cigarette smoke mixed with the condensation from my breath until the two were indistinguishable in the cold night air.

  With one last drag, I flicked the cigarette across the lot and finally looked back at the man who’d been my mentor; the father figure I never had. A man who was letting his need for revenge cloud his judgment.

  “You comin’?”

  He nodded and followed behind me. The club had descended into chaos as my men gave into their blood lust. The man responsible for it all looked like he was ready to piss himself as he huddled in the back of the booth.

  “This about money, man?” he began as I approached. “I can get you whatever you need, no questions asked, brother.”

  I cracked my neck and stretched my arms overhead, feeling more alive than I had in months. Maybe the old man was right; maybe I had gotten soft. I’d let myself get so caught up in being a husband and father that I’d forgotten my first love.

  Now it stood in front of me, ready to welcome me back into its embrace and this time, I wasn’t backing down or running away.

  I ran my tongue across my teeth in a grin. “Nah, ‘brother.’ This is about Molly.”

  This was just what I needed.

  A reminder of who I was.

  Who I’d always been.

  A killer.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Grey: 1993

  I ran my knuckles along my jawline and looked over the map again with a sigh. This was bad… really fuckin’ bad.

  Bear leaned over the desk and circled an area with his finger. “Outlaws took back the north.” His finger moved down. “Calaveras are moving in from the south. Just a matter of time before the other clubs join them.”

  I was glad that Wolverine was downstairs and not here to rub it in that he’d told me so.

  One, or all, of the strippers had talked, just as he predicted they would. I should’ve known—girls like that were only loyal to the things that filled their pussies, bank accounts, or veins.

  The syndicate was gone—twenty-four months of peace destroyed the moment The Ranch burned to the ground with Los Dictadores inside.

  “That’s not all,” Bear continued grimly. “That fire put us back on the radar with the feds and word around town is that they’re asking a lot of questions about the club.”

  I picked up a pen near the map and began turning it over in my hand. “Fuck. Who else knows this?”

  “For now? Me, but you can’t shove this shit under a rug and expect it to go away. I’ve been ridin’ with you for years now, Grey, but this is the worst shit I’ve seen. The clubs that left the syndicate are banding together under the Outlaws and we’re enemy number one in their eyes.”

  “You think they’ll go after families?” He had just as much to lose as I did, even if the fucker was still in denial. He swore there was nothing going on, but I knew better.

  Hell, I’d been the same way with Celia.

  Bear moved Molly into an actual house not long after the attack. He’d taken her to every doctor’s appointment and was by her side the day Enrique Fernando Williams came into the world.

  When I asked Molly why she’d chosen such a godawful name for her kid, she’d proudly exclaimed that he was named after Lucy’s son on I Love Lucy.

  Thank the saints the kid was adorable because with a name like that, he was going to need all the help he could get.

  The map taunted me, reminding me of my early days leading the club when nowhere was safe. “Beast get wind of this?”

  Bear frowned. “Not that I’m aware of—why?”

  I tapped my pen along the paper cities, letting it trace along state lines. Lines that no longer meant shit. “Wants out of his patch, says he was young and stupid when he joined. That strike you as odd?”

  “What are you doing out here, kid?” someone yelled from outside and I jumped up.

  “Was that Pete?” Bear asked, keeping a hand on his holster as we moved downstairs.

  Pete was our newest prospect and voted most likely to send someone to meet the Reaper without asking questions first.

  “Did he say kid?” I responded as I took the stairs two at a time.

  Wolverine had his gun trained on someone at the front door and I stumbled to a stop when I realized who it was.

  My son.

  Bastard knew it too.

  Things had gone to shit between us, and I knew a confrontation was coming, but I had done my best to avoid it.

  Comedian stepped forward and said what I couldn’t. “You gonna step away from my boy or do you need some help, Wolverine?”

  He kept his eyes on mine as he holstered his gun and backed away from Mikey.

  “I told you to wait outside—” Comedian started and I damn near lost it. My kid wasn’t a stowaway; his idiot of an old man had just decided that the club was the perfect setting for a little father-son bonding.

  “Jesus Christ, Comedian—you brought the kid here?” I snarled, before remembering where I was and who I was with.

  Mikey straightened in front of me. “I’m a man now.”

  He may have turned eleven today but was nowhere close to being a man. Comedian had been out on a run, but in typical Betsy fashion, she hadn’t planned a goddamn thing.

  Celia and I’d worked quickly, scrounging up pizzas and cake before she went door to door to invite his buddies. I’d volunteered for the job, but she’d made some comment about me looking a little too menacing to be rounding up kids.

  All of that and my son had been cowering under his bed in fear, convinced his father had come home early to beat him.

  I narrowed my eyes at Comedian. “You put him up to this?”

  The son-of-a-bitch shrugged his shoulders as if I’d just asked if he thought we might get some rain later. “This is where he’s gonna end up, Pres. It’s time he knows what his old man does. I don’t want him growing up, thinking I’m a nobody.”

  I knew what Mikey thought. It was in the way he looked at Comedian; the same way I’d looked at Donald.

  I shook my head and forced my hands into the front pockets of my jeans to keep from strangling the life out of him. “He’s not staying—we’ve got club business to attend to and I don’t think anybody here is hurting for babysitting money. Get him out of here and get back so we can get started.”

  Mikey’s jaw tightened as he stared me down and I realized all I’d done was make Comedian look like the hero, trying to immerse his kid in club life, while I was the bad guy, refusing to let him have any fun.

  “Fuck you!” Mikey screamed; eyes filled with hate. “I’m staying.”

  His words packed a punch and my men fell silent, clearly waiting for me to assert my authority. My fuckin’ heart had been ripped from my chest by someone I’d take a bullet for. I knew there’d be a day when he no longer saw me as a protector, but someone who stood in his way.

  I’d ju
st mistakenly assumed I didn’t have to worry about shit like that until he hit high school.

  “You want to stay? Fine—stay.” I nodded to Wolverine, who no longer looked triumphant. “Get him upstairs in a room.”

  Surprise flashed in Mikey’s eyes and he opened his mouth only to close it again immediately. I kept my eyes on his as Wolverine led him to the stairs, hoping he saw how much pain I was in. I needed him to see how much I cared; not the fucker who thought a biker club was a good place for a kid.

  Me.

  The bikers watched me warily, still waiting for me to snap. Hell, even Comedian seemed resigned to the possibility that I was going to beat his ass for his son’s outburst.

  I would’ve too, if I didn’t think he was going to repay my kid in kind later.

  Once Wolverine reappeared and I knew that Mikey was safely tucked away for the time being, we moved to the back and began the meeting.

  The men were just as shocked as I’d been that Beast wanted out. We lived and died by our patch. I reminded him of the terms, but he didn’t back down, even as his shaking hands took the gun from mine.

  Wolverine had always said that fate determined whether we lived or died. Russian roulette was an effective way of preventing anyone from leaving the club on a whim.

  “Bet if your Ol’ Lady was here she’d find a way to beat the odds. Smart as a fuckin’ whip,” Hawk said with a grin.

  I agreed with him there.

  Celia’s knack for quickly gathering facts in almost any situation she went into was astounding. The night that the men had brought Molly over, Bear told me how she’d sprung into action, getting her onto the couch and settled without once asking what happened.

  She might’ve been groomed to be the wife of a politician or some other sleazy profession, but my girl had been born to be a biker’s Ol’ Lady.

  The gun clicked and he stripped off his kutte and dropped it into my hands with a shaky exhale before heading for the door. “We’re done here, yeah? Karen and I are fuckin’ out of here.”

  Comedian stepped in, reminding him that the club was stripping him of everything, including his Ol’ Lady. I was so caught up in thoughts of the coming war that I didn’t intervene. I didn’t care.

  “You know the rules, Beast. Karen might’ve been your Ol’ Lady, but she’s club property now.” I took a swig from my beer and sat down in a patio chair, working to come up with a plan that didn’t end with all of us dead.

  The bikers moved back inside, but Wolverine hung back. “You okay?”

  I stared right through him. “The fuck do you care? Don’t think I didn’t notice the shit you pulled with the kid.” Rage washed over me, and I stood up, kicking the chair across the patio before confronting him.

  “What do you want, old man? For me to tell you that you were right and I was wrong? Fine. You win. Syndicate’s blown to shit and war’s coming.”

  Wolverine’s mouth fell open, but he remained silent.

  “C’mon, old man. Don’t leave me hangin’ now,” I growled. “This is your chance. Your big fuckin’ opportunity to tell me what a bang-up job I’m doing—”

  Bikers began shouting from the side of the clubhouse at someone. I left Wolverine standing on the small patio, looking like a bomb had just gone off, and jogged toward the sounds.

  Mikey sat on the ground, rocking in pain. I looked up at the open window from my room and then back down at him.

  “What’s the damage, Mikey? Anything broken?” I patted his arms and legs gently; certain he’d broken a bone with his stunt. He cried out when I reached his ankle and jerked back.

  “I’m fine.”

  Jesus, kid was as stubborn as his old man.

  “You aren’t fine,” I snapped, letting my emotions spill over into my words. “Your ass should’ve been home in bed—not out here getting indoctrinated into club life. You’re eleven, for Christ’s sake!”

  He raised his shoulders up toward his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry, sir.”

  Christ, he thought I was gonna hit him.

  I reached out and gripped his chin in my hand, forcing his eyes up to meet mine. “You think I’m mad at you, Mikey? You’re just a kid—this isn’t any place for a kid to be hanging around. You hit eighteen—that’s a different story. I don’t want you making any decisions on club life until you’re done with school. You hear me?”

  For the love of all the saints, be better than me, son.

  Any hope I had that he hadn’t seen or heard anything vanished when he asked, “You’re the bad guys, aren’t you?”

  “Nothing’s ever black or white like that. I think you’ll understand what I mean when you’re older. There’s more to life than just right or wrong.”

  I’d been telling myself that lie for so long that I started to believe it.

  He laughed and shook his head. “That totally sounds like something a bad guy would say. For me, there’s right or wrong. You’re either with the good guys or you’re against them. When I grow up, I’m gonna be one of the good guys.”

  I squeezed the back of his neck, wishing I could stop time and keep him sheltered from the world and all its shit. “I hope you are, kiddo. I hope to hell that you can do it. C’mon, let’s go find your dad and get you home.”

  I had to get him out of here before he saw something I couldn’t explain away with a few pretty words. Gone were the days when I could distract him with UFOs and aliens. Kid was too damn smart.

  I looped my arm around his back and helped him up, trading jokes as we made our way back around to the front of the clubhouse.

  Wolverine met us, apparently having snapped out of his stupor.

  “Where’s Comedian?”

  He shrugged. “Off fuckin’ Beast’s Ol’ Lady the last I heard. You need me to take the kid home?”

  I tightened my grip on Mikey. I wanted to go after Comedian for leaving my son to fend for himself in the clubhouse while he got laid, and Wolverine for telling him.

  “I’ll take him—just keep an eye on things while I’m gone. And watch the language when the kids are around.”

  He nodded, but his mouth was still set in a hard line, meaning we’d be having words when I got back. Fuck, with the way I was keyed up, maybe we’d finally come to blows over this shit.

  A loud scream echoed off the canyon walls, piercing through the haze of anger and instantly putting me on alert. I grabbed a handful of Mikey’s shirt in my fist as I scanned the mesquite trees.

  He tore away from me and took off running. I knew what he thought he was hearing. After all, I’d been the one to tell him about mountain lions when he was on a National Geographic kick last year.

  This was no cat though.

  “Mikey, get your ass in the truck and stay there!” My voice was laced with panic as I dove forward, fingertips grazing the back of his t-shirt for a brief second before he was gone again.

  He scrambled up one of the large cottonwood trees and disappeared, along with any chances of me getting him out of the canyon without witnessing a murder.

  * * *

  I knocked over a container of yogurt as I reached into the fridge for a beer, the sound echoing through the silent house.

  I shotgunned it and immediately opened another before leaning back against the counter with a sigh. It was just after four in the morning, but I couldn’t sleep. Not after what had happened tonight.

  I didn’t know if I’d ever sleep again.

  “Daddy?” Kate stumbled in, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  I jumped and shoved the beer behind my back. “What are you doing up so late, Katydid?”

  “Couldn’t sleep. I fogot to invite you to the pawty befoe you goed to wowk.”

  She had trouble with her speech, so all of her r sounds sounded like w’s. It was cute as hell.

  I pushed the beer can toward the backsplash and knelt in front of her. “Is that so? I thought we just went to a party.”

  Kate giggled and stepped into my arms. “That was fo
Mikey. This one is fo Spidewman and guess what?”

  I smiled into her dark hair. “What?”

  “It’s a tea pawty! Fo all of his fwiends.” Her little hands patted along my kutte; she’d done it as long as she could walk. “Daddy?”

  “Yes, Darlin’?”

  She pulled back and cupped my cheeks in her hands. “Daddy, did you dwink beew tonight?”

  I shook my head. “No, why?”

  Her hands dropped to her hips, making her look even more like Celia. “Daddy, Mama says you shouldn’t do that. It’s bad fo you.”

  She was three going on thirty. The stern expression on her face had me fighting back a much-needed laugh, but I wouldn’t dare piss her off. “Daddy…” she warned.

  “Fine, darlin’. Daddy had a beer. It’ll be our little secret, okay?” I tried to pull her back into my arms, but she wasn’t having it.

  “Daddy, awe seacwets bad?”

  My knees grew stiff, so I sank down onto my ass in front of the oven before pulling Kate onto my lap. “It depends. Do you have a secret?”

  She lowered her head with a smile. “No, but Mama does. She said we shouldn’t tell Daddy the seacwet. Is that bad, Daddy?”

  I went still, my voice barely above a whisper as I asked, “What—what secret does your mama have, Katydid?”

  “Mama fell down in the kitchen tonight… aftew you went to wowk. She was holding the chili and she fell asleep. Chili went evewywhere, Daddy. I waked her back up with thwee kisses and she said we shouldn’t tell you because it was a seacwet.”

  My chest rose and fell rapidly as I processed her words. Celia’d passed out and didn’t want Kate to tell me.

  Was she worried that I’d be mad at her?

  Oh, Jesus. She was sick.

  “Is Mommy okay now?” I asked gently.

  Kate ran her fingers down my arms, seemingly ignoring me. “Daddy, can I decowate my awms like you when I get big?”

  “Kate,” I said, shifting her onto the floor so I could get to my feet. “Daddy needs to know if your mama is okay. Can you tell me?”

  She nodded and said somberly, “She’s okay. She cleaned up the mess and we took a bubble bath togethew because she was vewy messy.”