She shook her head and cleared her throat as she wiped her eyes against the heels of her palms.
“I think Cambio and I would be willing to adopt the baby. I’d have to talk to him, but let’s just go with it’s a yes, at least for now. I mean if you don’t want it for sure,” she murmured.
I pushed my purse onto the edge of the table and shook my head. “We’re going the wrong direction. I’m not keeping this baby.”
“Don’t kill it,” Sydney cried.
“It’s not killing anything, Sydney. Really, it isn’t even a baby yet,” I snapped.
She nodded her head as she began to cry. As she worked herself into a full blown sob, she covered her face with her hands and spoke through the gaps in her fingers.
“Yes it is…” she blubbered.
“It’s part of you…” she said. “And it’s part of…him.”
She slid her hands against her face and attempted to wipe the tears away. “How about waiting?”
I couldn’t believe my ears. I expected them to provide support - maybe not both of them - but at least one. I went into the bar with visions of one of them taking me to the abortion clinic, and holding my hand through it all, making me feel better about the decision. Afterward, it would be a secret the three of us shared, and took to our graves. Otis and I living happily ever after would stand as proof that the decision we made was the right choice, and the three of us would be reminded of it every day that he and I lived in our state of true love.
I stood from my seat. Avery continued to sit in the booth, arms crossed, glaring at me.
“So no support from either of you on this?” I asked as I clutched my purse tightly.
Sydney stood.
Avery glared.
And I began to cry.
Chapter One Hundred Seven
OTIS
I hadn’t spoken with Sam in over twenty-four hours, and I had not seen her in person since the patch in party. Two trips to her mother’s house since the party produced nothing, and now she wasn’t answering texts or calls. I considered the death of Cash, and how it may have had an effect on her. Although she seemed to take the loss of her mother very well, Cash’s death may have been enough to cause her to go into a recession of sorts. Frustrated beyond compare and feeling quite helpless, I sat on bench in her mother’s back yard and waited.
We had spent many a night in the backyard, and I always enjoyed the smell of the flowers. After Sam and I parted, the smell of any type of flowers always seemed to bring thoughts of her back to the forefront of my mind. Now, sitting amidst the very yard we grew up enjoying, I was feeling empty and heartbroken.
Other than her going back to St. Louis and possibly having second thoughts of us remaining together, I could come up with no reason for her to be gone. As I glanced around the yard and made note of the changes her mother had made since I’d seen it last, I began to consider other possibilities.
Kidnapping.
Murder.
Car wreck.
Another relationship.
Marriage.
My mind began to spin in circles. I wondered if it was possible that the ATF had her in for questioning, but had no idea of how to find out if they did. After much thought, I decided I’d drive to wherever Gunner was and threaten him until he told me everything he knew.
I gazed beyond the flowers, shrubbery and trees into the corner of the yard. The small yellow building her mother housed her tools in was still in the corner of the yard. As kids, we used to hide in the little shack and make out, often kissing for hours and hours, not necessarily knowing - or being afraid to go forward – with what the next step was.
I cherished those days. The innocence of us both. Kissing until our jaws were tired, riding my bike home afterward, filled with a feeling that nothing or no one provided me since. After I’d get home, I’d lie in bed and rub my lips as I counted the hours until we’d be able to kiss her again.
Loving Sam wasn’t a decision I made, it was something that simply happened. Even before I kissed her the first time, I knew. The affection I felt for her was even more apparent every time we were apart, as I would ache for her to return. When we were together, the pain would disappear, only to return again as soon as we separated.
After our first kiss nothing changed - except the level of pain I felt when we were apart. Being away from her after the first time we made love was nothing short of impossible, and we quickly became inseparable following the memorable event. We remained at each other’s sides until the end.
I shifted my eyes from the shack to the yard and glanced around at the flowers as I stood. The yard was where we began our relationship, had our first kiss, and also where the relationship ended. As I stared blankly at the mixture of colors and the contrast of it all, I felt the irony in my standing in the yard once again, feeling as if something changed between us.
Although I had no idea what caused the change, it hurt, and it hurt deeply. Loving someone has the ability to provide the greatest degree of pleasure or the deepest feeling of indescribable pain. Which you receive is determined by whether or not the same level of love you’re giving is returned.
And right now, I was receiving nothing in return.
Chapter One Hundred Eight
SAM
The thought of losing Otis weighed heavy on my heart. My decision to have an abortion had been made, and I felt there was no other way to proceed living life without going through with it. Doing it without the support of someone else - as much as hated admitting it - was more difficult than I would have ever expected.
I sat with my head in my hands and cried, knowing I was going to go through the pain, feelings of emptiness, and second guessing the decision entirely for the rest of my life.
Alone.
Being with Otis again provided me with the greatest gift I could have ever expected. Loving him, and not wondering if I was being loved in return – but knowing – elevated me onto a platform I had never had the previous luxury of being upon. From there I felt as if I looked down upon the other women in the world, knowing they would never have what I was so fortunate to possess.
A man who naturally and without any effort – loved them in return – for the love they provided him.
I wiped my eyes and gazed out the window with unfocused eyes. As my side on the console of the car sat the only other option I felt I had.
A butcher knife.
In the four days since I found out I was pregnant something in me changed. As much as I wanted to remain with Otis for the rest of my life, the thought of having the baby that was growing inside of me eliminated what was becoming more and more difficult to accept as being the right choice. If I wanted to stay with Otis, I knew it was the only choice, but it didn’t necessarily make it the right choice.
Committing suicide initially seemed to be a far-fetched answer to a desperate cry for help. As time passed and the pain worsened, I felt it was a little more viable of an option. If I could develop the courage to do so, it would allow me to leave this world with my baby, with Otis still loving me, and me without a doubt continuing to love him.
I wondered when they found me what they would think. If Avery and Sydney, after it was all over, would tell Otis what had happened, or if they would refrain from telling him, causing him to wonder if it was something he did, said, or didn’t do or say. Causing him pain wasn’t anything I wanted to do, but the pain I was feeling wasn’t anything I could continue to live with.
Not for much longer.
I closed my eyes and clutched my chest. The pain was almost unbearable.
Continuing to live with the level of pain I was feeling would be impossible. I needed to do something, and I needed to do it fast. The pain was smothering me.
I closed my eyes and wished Otis was holding me in his arms. To feel his arms around me again would soothe the pain, and make everything better. I swallowed heavily, pressed my clenched fists against my chest, and clutched my purse. After a few minutes of rocking back a
nd forth in the seat, nothing changed.
I opened my eyes, glanced out the window, shifted my eyes to the console, and turned toward the window again. The pain continued to worsen.
I glanced at the console and closed my eyes. For a long moment I allowed myself to drift off to a land where Otis and I ran through a field of flowers, holding our child’s hands in ours, laughing and loving each other as the flowers beat against our wrists.
I inhaled a shallow breath through my nose. The unmistakable scent of lilac filled my nostrils.
I opened my eyes and gazed at the knife.
My decision was made.
Chapter One Hundred Nine
OTIS
“It could be a lot of things, brother. Don’t jump to conclusions. You know what I say about the word assume don’t you? Makes an ass of you and me,” Axton said as he turned toward the kitchen.
“When’s she going to be here?” I huffed as I glanced at my watch.
“Her and Toad’s Ol’ Lady are on their way back now. There probably at that little stretch of highway between Wichita and here where there’s no service. She’ll be here in a bit. Want one of her beers?” he asked as he opened the refrigerator.
“Sure,” I said as I sat down.
“Good news about Gunner though,” Axton said as he handed me a bottle of Red’s Apple Ale.
I gazed at the bottle and shook my head. “Yeah. Hard to believe he’s going to spend thirteen months in the joint. Good for the club though.”
“What’s hard to believe is that it happened so fast,” Axton said as he sat down across from me.
I took a drink of the beer, winced from the taste, and stared down at the bottle. As I looked up, I began to explain what Gunner had told me.
“He said he refused to testify, and they had a special hearing with a magistrate. In the hearing he said he’d misplaced a few crucial reports. He didn’t tell them they were crucial, but he said they would implicate us in a few things. Anyway, after the missing reports and his statement of no wrong doings on our part while under oath, they asked him to reconsider and gave him a few days to change his story. He went back in for the second hearing.” I paused and took another drink of the sweet ale.
“And after he said the same thing, they threatened him with obstruction of justice and tampering with evidence. He waived his right to a jury trial, plead guilty, and they sentenced him the next day at what he called a bench trial as an example to other ATF agents. He said he’s got to surrender to US Marshals in about 30 days.”
“And you say he showed you all of this on the computer?” Axton said.
I nodded my head. “On the US Attorney’s official website. They list all crimes and sentencing there as a deterrent. Yeah, it’s right there. Lost his job, pension, everything…”
“I guess everybody has a job to do, just wish his job didn’t include fucking with us,” Axton said as he lifted the bottle of water to his mouth.
I felt nervous and sick. It had been two days since we had spoken and four days since I’d seen her. No matter what was behind this, nothing good could come of it. No differently than any other Sinner, I refused to talk to anyone about my problems other than Axton. Admitting to the other men that I had a problem or that I was in pain, especially as a result of a woman, would make me appear weak and incapable.
I drank the remaining beer and pushed the bottle between my thighs. Going to Axton’s house wasn’t something I normally did, and for whatever reason, I had always perceived his home as being off limits. To him, it was a sacred place, and I realized that about him. Our discussions generally went on in the shop or office at the clubhouse, or some other remote location. Sitting in his chair and talking to him was another reminder of the fact that my life was in shambles. I felt like I was at a funeral of an uncle I didn’t know, and in a house I was unfamiliar and uncomfortable with.
“Yeah,” I said as I stood.
“Where you want this?” I asked as I held the bottle at arm’s length.
“Garage,” he said as he pointed to the garage door.
As I opened the door to the garage, the unmistakable sound of a car in the driveway caught my attention. I tossed the bottle in the trash, walked to the kitchen, and grabbed another beer from the fridge. Eager to take my search to the next step, and hoping for a miracle, I walked into the living room and sat down.
“Got another beer,” I said as I raised the bottle.
Axton shook his head. “Take as many as you want, Brother.”
Avery walked in through the front door, and although she could clearly see my bike in the driveway, did little to disguise her shock of seeing me in the living room. It was obvious to me either Axton had said something to her about my concerns – which I seriously doubted – or she knew something about Sam’s disappearance.
As I anxiously waited for her to sit down, Axton stood and spoke.
“Otis has some concerns about Sam. Want to come in and talk?” he asked.
“Sure, Uhhm. Let me get a beer,” she responded.
After getting a beer from the fridge, she came in the living room and sat cross-legged on the floor beside Axton’s chair. After taking a few sips from my beer as I studied her, I proceeded with caution.
“When was the last time you talked to Sam?” I asked.
“Been a few days, I suppose,” she said.
“Do you remember the exact day?” I asked.
She took a drink of beer, gazing at me over the top of the bottle as she did so. After lowering the bottle to her lap, she inhaled, exhaled, and took another drink.
“Day before yesterday,” she said.
“Really? What time of day was it?” I asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Evening time. We all had a drink at the bar, her and Syd and me.”
“Evening, huh? You sure it was the day before yesterday?” I asked as I tried to piece together a timeline.
It would have been the day after I talked to Sam last, and if Avery’s recollection was correct, the fact Sam talked to her after talking to me - and had not talked to me since - bothered me.
She stared blankly beyond me for a moment, shifted her focus to me, and responded.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” she said.
“What was going on?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “We were just having a drink.”
I rolled my eyes, feeling as if I was Jack’s attorney attempting to pry information from the ATF agent in court. After taking half of the bottle of beer in one gulp, I stood and began pacing the room.
“Did she call you and want to get together?” I asked.
“Yeah, she did,” she responded.
I turned around, frustrated by the lack of information Avery was providing. As I stood and glared at her, I realized I hadn’t really explained the nature of my question asking session. After draining the remaining beer from the bottle, I sighed and continued.
“Look, Sam’s missing. Nobody knows her more than I do, nobody, and this isn’t like her at all. You were the last one to talk to her, and anything you can say that’ll help me, I’d appreciate. What’d you guys talk about?” I asked.
She uncrossed her legs and stood. Still holding the bottle in her hand, she folded her arms in front of her chest and studied me.
“Look, she talked about a lot of things. I can’t really say,” she said flatly.
“What do you mean you can’t say? She’s missing, Avery. Missing. I need to find her. Help me out,” I said through my teeth.
“Look,” she said as she turned toward Axton.
She shifted her eyes to meet mine, held my gaze, and sighed. “If anyone knows and respects it, it should be you two. She asked me not to say, and I’m not saying.”
Axton stood from his seat and turned to face her, placing his arm on her shoulder as he did.
“Anything you can say might help, anything at all,” he said.
As she began to speak, her voice filled with emotion and began
to falter. “And I can’t say anything. It’s no different…no different than either of you not…uhhm…not discussing club business with…you know…just anyone. You’re sworn to…uhhm…secrecy. Well, respect the fact…that I am too.”
“Avery,” I began to beg.
She waved her arms in front of her chest, sloshing beer onto the carpet as she did so. “No! Answer this, Otis. Did you tell anyone about me shooting those guys that night we got robbed in Mexican town?”
I shook my head, clearly seeing where she was headed. “Nope.”
“Alright then. And you didn’t because you’re sworn to secrecy. I told her I wouldn’t…”
And she lost her composure and began to cry. As the lifted her hand to her face and began to wipe the tears, she turned away. Axton reached for her shoulder just as she stomped her foot.
“God fucking damn you, Otis,” she shouted as her foot hit the floor.
“God fucking damn you,” she repeated as he turned around.
I clasped my palms together as if praying, “What? Did I do something? Come on, Avery.”
She caught her breath, inhaled, and after a few seconds, exhaled loudly. As she nodded her head, my heart sank and the pit of my stomach felt like a stone had been dropped into it.
“I can’t tell you where she is,” she said as she exhaled again.
“Because I don’t know. And I uhhm…I can’t tell you what she said,” she said as she handed Axton her bottle of beer.
As she rubbed her hands against the thighs of her jeans, she continued. “Because I said I wouldn’t.”
“But if you know her like you say you do, maybe you’ll find her. If you were her.” She paused and inhaled sharply. “And you had a decision to make that no woman ever wants to have to fucking make.”
She began to cry again and covered her face as she did.
She removed her hands from her face and talked through the tears and sobbing. “And that decision, Otis, that fucking decision…”
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