Dizzy: A Steel Bones Motorcycle Club Prequel

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Dizzy: A Steel Bones Motorcycle Club Prequel Page 21

by Cate C. Wells


  I understand we got business together ‘cause of the boys, but this here ain’t business. Not past bedtime on a school night.

  Sharon huffs. “Carl Baker’s mother?”

  “The kid who had the party?”

  “The party Parker knew he wasn’t allowed to go to. That you should have asked me about before making a unilateral decision. I knew something like this would happen.”

  “Something like what?”

  Kids gettin’ into it? That’s normal. I knocked out one of Bullet Nowicki’s teeth over a game of horse. Tooth’s still gone, but we’re cool.

  “Jess Baker says he’s not welcome over there anymore.” She glares at Parker with a look of pure hate. “And a dozen people—some of them clients—have already sent me screenshots of the post she put on social media about the whole debacle. You don’t come out looking too good, Dwayne, I’ll tell you that. You should see it. A hundred reactions. Eight shares.”

  I give zero shits. “I don’t got social media.”

  “Yeah, well, every single one of Parker and Carson’s teachers do. And my clients. And the parents of their friends.”

  “I don’t see the problem. There was an issue. We handled it.”

  “You didn’t handle it, Dwayne. Not if Jess Baker put us on blast.”

  “She call out Parker by name?” If she did, that dad and I are gonna have words.

  “She didn’t have to. Everyone in this town knows who’s Steel Bones. She says a biker with a barely legal girl in his truck. Everyone knows who she’s talkin’ about.”

  “Is that what you’re worried about? Gossip on the internet? Jesus, Sharon. The boys should be in bed.”

  “It’s not ‘gossip on the internet,’ Dwayne. It’s lost business. Lost leads. If I don’t have a flawless reputation, they could take the Hazleton development. Give it to someone else. Do you want me to lose that opportunity? In real estate, reputation is everything.”

  “He called the kid a pussy,” I say. Parker sucks in a quick breath, and I correct myself. “He called the player the kid picked a pussy. And we settled it. He apologized. He shook hands with the kid. I shook hands with the dad.”

  “Well, you didn’t bother to ‘shake hands’ with Jess Baker, did you? The way she tells it, you intimidated Don. Carl was terrified.”

  I rub my temples. This is such bullshit. “You’re overreacting. You both are. The dad was fine. His cousin’s got a Ducati. We talked about it. He’s thinkin’ about getting one, too.”

  She bugs her eyes and blinks. “I can’t believe you’re not taking this seriously.”

  “It ain’t a big deal.”

  “Not to you. And if it isn’t a big deal to you, it doesn’t matter at all, does it?”

  I do not have time for this. Fay-Lee’s in danger, the kids are upset, they got school, and she wants to rehash the past. Again. Now.

  I’m done.

  The kids don’t need to hear this. And they need to be in bed.

  Parker’s scowling, mouth tight, eyes shiny. Carson’s blinkin’ up at me, waitin’ for me to fix it. Sharon’s face has gone red. She’s gonna lose it.

  “Boys. Go in the house.”

  “Stay right where you are,” she snaps. “You’re gonna hear this. I will not keep standing by silently as these boys turn into trash like their father.”

  Oh, hell no.

  And I look at my boys. “Inside. Now. Brush your teeth. Get in bed. You’re sleepin’ here tonight.”

  They bolt for the house.

  Sharon opens her mouth.

  I step to her. She stumbles back a step.

  “Not a word.”

  Her eyes go wide.

  I ain’t never hit her. Or any other woman. But I’m a large man, and she’s got to be realizing that she don’t really know me. She asks for money, and I cut her a check. She asks me to watch the boys or pick ‘em up or take ‘em somewhere, and I say yes.

  I don’t think we’ve had an actual conversation since Carson was in diapers.

  She snaps her jaw shut.

  “You’re gonna listen. You’re gonna get back in that car, drive home, and think. Think about who the fuck I am. Think about what I’d do for my boys. Then think if I give a shit about Jess Baker or your leads or the Hazleton development.”

  For a second, she gets it. Then her chin goes up, and her eyes get that mulish cast. She ain’t gonna listen.

  It’s my fault. I been letting her waltz around, thinkin’ she gets what she gets by right, not by my choice.

  “You have no right to keep the boys,” she sputters. “We have a custody agreement. If you refuse to abide by it, I will take you to court. I don’t have to give you all this extra time. It’s a favor.”

  I shake my head. She really don’t know me.

  Maybe until recently, I didn’t quite know me either.

  “Nah. You ain’t gonna do that. You like your big house. You like Steve. You like drivin’ around this town in your big car actin’ like you’re big shit. Who owns this town, Sharon?”

  I wait, but she don’t answer.

  “Steel Bones owns this town. Who owns this county, Sharon? Who built that development you’re so worried about? Whose check pays for the car and the clothes and the lunches? Cleats don’t cost three hundred dollars.”

  “You owe me,” she spits from clenched teeth.

  “For what?”

  “For that.” She points at the house, arm so rigid it could break. “For those boys. ‘Cause they’re the only things you cared about, weren’t they? You never cared about me. My dreams. My goals.”

  Fuck. It always comes down to this. I didn’t support her. I didn’t encourage her.

  “Bullshit. I paid for everything. The classes. The license fees. Business cards. Swag. I watched the kids. I put dinner on the table when you were showing houses. I had prospects hang your flyers up all over the county.”

  “Money’s wasn’t enough, Dwayne.”

  Shit. She’s right.

  Nothing was gonna be enough.

  ‘Cause I wasn’t what was holding her back.

  Whatever was stoppin’ her, whatever she had to fight through to be happy, it wasn’t me. It was in her own head.

  There’s nothin’ I could have done. No magic words. Not then. Not now.

  And I am done with playing along with this game where she acts however she wants, and I deal with it, ‘cause it’s easier to leave things the way they are. That’s not gonna work anymore.

  I’m gonna find Fay-Lee, and bring her home, and we’re gonna be a happy family, damn it.

  “I’ll take the boys to school in the morning. You want to pick them up, or should I?”

  “Typical. Avoiding the subject.”

  “You’re not getting it. We’re done. It’s not my job to make you happy. Not my job to give a shit about your life, your beefs, whatever. You ain’t my problem.”

  “I’m the mother of your children,” she hisses.

  “You want to talk about Parker? You want to talk about how that boy don’t even smile no more—we can talk about that. How he don’t see the point in bein’ at your house anymore. Or we can talk about your husband calling Carson chunky. I got thoughts on that matter, and I will be sharing them with Steve.”

  “Husky,” she mutters.

  “What?”

  She’s smart enough not to repeat it.

  “But we are done rehashing the past. And you ain’t stirring up no more drama. Times have changed. You ain’t the only one with lawyer money anymore. Matter of fact, you want to go back to court, I got my legal representation on speed dial.”

  She gets an uneasy look. It’s a small town. She knows Harper Ruth.

  I nod, but I ain’t done. “From here on out, you’re gonna make this as easy as can be on everyone involved. You ain’t gonna speak to Fay-Lee unless it’s about the kids. And you ain’t gonna shame that boy for a mistake that he already made right ‘cause you’re mad about what some bitch says on the internet.”

>   I take a breath. Force my voice back down. “If you can’t care about these kids more than what people think, let ‘em stay with me.”

  Her face is frozen in a sneer, her eyes cold and filled with rage. Whatever she just heard, I guarantee, it ain’t what I said.

  “You pick them up from school tomorrow, then.” She turns, flounces to the truck.

  “You know what,” she spits as she climbs into the driver’s seat. “Keep them all week. I have showings.”

  She slams the door, peels out, sending gravel flying.

  I’m already on my way back in the house, phone in my hand, texting Wall to send Jo-Beth or another sweetbutt over here to watch the kids. I’m goin’ to find Fay-Lee, and I’m gonna throw her over my shoulder and bring her home.

  Enough of the shit I should do.

  I’m gonna do what I wanna.

  I trip up the stairs, fully expecting to find the boys in the bed, Carson conked out and Parker playin’ games on his phone. Instead, I face the inquisition. Parker and Carson are standing in the middle of the living room, hands fisted on their hips, feet hip-width apart, like two pissed-off, miniature Supermen.

  “Where’s Fay-Lee?” Carson asks.

  “You can’t get rid of her ‘cause Mom’s pissed.” Parker glares, tears gone.

  “I didn’t get rid of her.”

  “Then where is she?” Parker demands.

  “She don’t got no money, and she don’t got no phone.” Accusation shines in Carson’s eyes. “And she don’t have a jacket.”

  Both boys give me the stare of death, waiting. I didn’t think I could feel lower. I run a hand through my hair.

  “We had a—misunderstanding. She got upset and left. It wasn’t her fault.”

  “It was your fault.” Parker says it like there’s no doubt in his mind.

  “In a way. I didn’t handle it right.”

  “You got to fix it. We like Fay-Lee,” Parker says.

  “Yeah?” I honestly didn’t know they felt so strongly about her. Vonna was around for six months, and they didn’t bat an eyelash when we split.

  “You’re happy when she’s around,” Carson says. “You’re never happy.” He frowns, and his eyes darken. “You got to get her back. She’s real skinny, and it’s cold out.”

  “She’s got her phone.” I don’t have anything else to comfort him. He’s scared for her, and so am I.

  “Oh. Cool.” Carson takes his phone out of his pocket, and before I can register what he’s doing, he’s got it up to his ear.

  “Fay-Lee?” he says.

  There’s a distant murmuring. Shit. He’s got her number.

  I reach for the phone, but he ducks. Maybe I should ease off. She didn’t like what I had to say earlier, and my brain’s buzzing so fast, I haven’t thought of anything else besides “Come home.”

  “Yeah. Parker’s here, too. Where are you?”

  More murmuring.

  “You got to come back. Dad’s sorry. He won’t do it again.”

  Murmuring.

  “Fay-Lee, you got to give him a chance—” Parker swipes the phone from his brother’s hand.

  “Listen. I’m sorry I was a jerk to you. If you want my room again, you can have it. Whatever Dad did, he’s not gonna do it again. We promise.”

  I can’t take it. I grab the phone. “Fay-Lee.”

  Dial tone.

  I go to recent calls, try again. It goes straight to voicemail. This is Fay-Lee. You know what to do.

  I do. I gotta tell her, make her believe, that she’s the most important thing in the goddamn world to me, and I would never let anything or anyone hurt her. I know what to do, but I don’t know how.

  I sink to the sofa. The boys collapse on either side of me.

  “She’s really pissed,” Carson says.

  “You probably need to buy her something.” Parker leans his head back. “A purse or something.”

  “Did she say where she was?”

  “Nah.” Carson rests his head on my upper arm. He smells like wet dog again. How the hell does he always smell like wet dog when he has no pets? He’s gonna need a shower before school. “She said she was gonna miss us and sorry she left without saying goodbye.”

  My chest tightens.

  “Just track her down,” Parker says.

  “Yeah, get a bloodhound,” Carson suggests.

  “No, dumbass. Track her using her phone. That’s what they do on TV. They put a chip or something on the phone, and then they get in a van, and they track ‘em down.”

  Shit.

  There’s a tracker on her phone.

  That’s why Heavy’s so sure he’ll find her.

  That’s why he left her alone with Jed. And her phone.

  He knew something’s up with Jed. He knew she’d run. And she’d lead us straight to the Rebel Raiders who put Chaos up to stealing the blueprints.

  That lying, Machiavellian fuck.

  When Fay-Lee is safe at home, I’m gonna beat his ass with a baseball bat. Or a stop sign pole. I’ll probably need a fuckin’ fence post.

  Parker sees my wheels turning. “You can go get her, Dad. I’ll watch Carson.”

  I check my phone. “Jo-Beth’s coming over to watch you. She’ll take you to school tomorrow if I don’t get back in time. That okay?”

  “Last time Jo-Beth watched us, she made us dust all the crap hanging on the walls,” Parker complains. “And I think she stole the yellow pillow that said Live Your Dreams.”

  “Yeah, but we didn’t have to clean nothin’ for a week after she left. Besides, I think she’s pretty. I like her purple hair.” Carson’s easier to please than his brother. He’s gonna have a smoother time of it with the ladies.

  “When I bring Fay-Lee back, she’s stayin’. You two okay with that?”

  “Of course. We weren’t the ones that ran her off.” Parker stands up and stretches. “I’m going to bed before Jo-Beth gets here and makes us clean.”

  Carson bounces up to follow him. “Be nice to her when you find her. And bring her food. She left her snack pack here.”

  “Her snack pack?”

  “Yeah. She took one of Parker’s backpacks, and she keeps her snacks in there. It’s in your closet.” Carson shrugs, and then he heads off for his bedroom.

  “Brush your teeth!” I call after him. “And if I’m not back, shower before you go to school!”

  I’m already dialing Heavy and walking out to the deck. I’m gonna be raising my voice.

  “Speak.” He picks up on the first ring.

  “You ain’t got guys out looking for her. You’re tracking her phone.”

  There’s a pause. There’s a growl of engines and shouts in the background. He’s outdoors. He’s probably got her in his sights. My shoulders tense and the cords in my neck rise.

  “Do you want to know where she is?” he asks.

  “I’m gonna kill you.”

  “We had to find the person who sent her.”

  “We knew it was the Raiders.”

  “We didn’t know who specifically. Or where they were. Or who they were working for.”

  “The Raiders don’t need a reason to fuck with us.”

  “But they needed intel to go after the blueprints.”

  “You think my girl was gonna lead you to the mastermind? If anything, she was a pawn.”

  “You have to trust me.”

  “I don’t. Not anymore.”

  We fall silent. A bullfrog honks near the creek that runs behind our property. The night is clear, and the moon is almost full. The temperature’s droppin’ fast.

  Then there’s a long, weary sigh from the other end. “’First be reconciled to your brother’ the good book says.”

  I grunt. Heavy has the habit of quoting Scripture. He picked it up from his mama who was forever hasslin’ us boys with the word of the Lord. It generally means his big brain has hit a wall.

  “Where is she?”

  “Brick Daugherty’s. Idle chatter says he’s heading up
to Spank the Devil in the morning.”

  “Brick? Is he the meth dealer?”

  “That’s Book Daugherty. Book moved to Delaware. Brick’s the younger brother. The one that looks like a fat Willie Nelson.”

  “I’m goin’ to get her.”

  “There’re gonna be thousands of people there. She’ll be safe. We wait. Watch. We can figure out who’s behind all this. What their endgame is. Protect the club.”

  “Would you let Harper be bait?”

  God help him, for Steel Bones, I think he would. But he’s smart enough to understand that another man would not.

  There’s another long pause. He must be on the side of the road. I hear vehicles zip by, shouts fading in the low roar of traffic. He must already be downtown in Anvil. It’s a sleepy mountain town fifty-one weeks a year. During Spank the Devil, it becomes the largest city within two hundred miles.

  I’ll never find her there without his help.

  My fists ache to cross the distance and beat her location out of him.

  “We have eyes on her. She’s safe.”

  “She’s mine.”

  He either gets it, or we’re done.

  “Head on up. I’ll take you to her. You have my word, she’s safe until then.”

  “Once I’ve got her, we’re havin’ it out.”

  “No doubt, my brother.” He exhales. In the background, tires screech. “Everything I do, it’s for this club.”

  “I know. That’s why I ain’t gonna kill you all the way.”

  “There’s no way I convince you to hold off? Just ‘til we see where they go after the rally?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Fair enough. Call when you’re fifteen minutes out. I’ll meet you at the town sign. We’ll get her. I don’t suppose you’d agree to go in subtle, would you?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “I’ll call Harper then. Tell her to dress up in her lawyer clothes and bring her briefcase.”

  “Good idea. Oh, and Heavy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Make sure Jed’s somewhere else.”

  There’s a moment, a silence where the truth we’ve both come to separately sits between us, thick and rank.

  “Ayup.”

  We hang up, and I pad down to the gun safe and strap up. Fay-Lee’s coming with me if I have to fight my way through a mob of Raiders. Honestly?

 

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