by Miranda Bee
Her body was rigid as she unlocked the front door.
“Bye,” she said.
Sammy’s voice was shaky and nearly inaudible. She left my apartment. The silence in the room was heavy, almost unbearably so. It was better she grieved me with a little anger, then grieve me after I get taken out. I was cruel, yes, but life was crueler. When life gave you a touch of light, be prepared for an even longer night. That was how it worked. I was a fool to have believed otherwise.
I laid down on the couch, wiping tears from my cheeks. I didn’t cry often. I wouldn’t cry long. I just wanted a moment.
***
Sometimes I wondered if I was a robot or an automaton. I was able to compartmentalize, like a machine. I had my moment of sadness. I turned it off, eventually. It was all business now. I had to be organized. I had a tall order. I would meet all my objectives. After that, I knew I was as good as dead. Not that I wouldn’t try to escape fate. Of course, I’d make a run for it.
I wasn’t hopeful about it, though.
I did have a plan. I was thinking of heading to Mexico, getting as far south as I could. I had one contact. A man who wasn’t associated with any of the gangs. He wasn’t loyal to anyone. He was merely a delivery guy. He lived simple and worked hard. I was fairly certain I could trust him to smuggle me past the border. It could work, theoretically. The Sons hadn’t used him in nearly a decade because we went ‘mainstream’, in a way. The Sons were too successful and worked with bigger contacts that could move more shit (be it drugs or otherwise). Still, I didn’t even know if this guy was still alive. I would be shocked if he even had the same number.
My priorities were laid out before me. I planned to kill Charlie. That wouldn’t be hard. I needed to ensure he wouldn’t come after Sammy. I wanted her to be happy. Charlie had enjoyed breathing a little too long. I held back for Sammy’s sake. Half of me knew she wanted to kill him herself, the other half knew she’d rather seek justice within the confines of the law. She was torn. I wasn’t. I had no problem snapping his neck. That was exactly what I intended to do.
I smiled. I was really looking forward to it.
Second, and more difficult still, I planned to take care of Mathias. First, I would have to find out why he betrayed us. I had to find out who else he was working with. It was possible that he was only working with Abraham. I wasn’t the kind of guy who did sloppy work (for the most part). If there were any loose ends, I planned on tying them up.
I took out my XD and cleaned it. I made sure it was well oiled, cleaned, and loaded. I packed a few extra magazines, as well.
Taking him down wouldn’t be easy. I liked to work with my hands. Still, my gun was like my sidekick. I needed it for back up. I would have to break into Mathias’s office to look for information. Surely, there was something there that could give me a clue. He was planning something big.
I set my gun down on the table. I walked out to the balcony with a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass. I was going to get fucking wasted. I needed one last moment. After that, sometime tomorrow morning, I would begin. I would hunt down Charlie and kill him. I would seek out intel. I would take down Mathias, Abraham, and whoever else was in on this scheme.
I was fairly certain my days were numbered. I would miss whiskey. I would miss freedom. I’d miss Sammy, most of all.
Chapter 19
Sammy Wood
The microwave light reflected on the plastic over my carrots and peas. Frozen dinner, a spinster’s reliable friend. I watched it spin in the microwave. I watched the digital numbers count down by the second and then by the minute. The microwave went dark, its shrill alarm beeping every few minutes. I just stood there, staring at the black door. Tears welled in my eyes.
My life was so empty. There was nothing for me.
I pulled the dinner out and set it on the counter. I pulled the plastic sheet back. Rolling steam puffed out, burning my thumb. The smell of freezer burnt fettuccine turned my stomach sour. I picked up the tray and tossed it into the sink.
“I’m not hungry,” I mumbled to nobody.
Jesus, I wasn’t even good at being a spinster. Shouldn’t I have, like, three cats by now? Cats were quiet creatures. Surely, a cat would love the shitty dinner that I couldn’t stomach to eat. I took a deep breath. I tried not to picture his face. I tried not to recall his startling blue eyes. I tried not to think of his dazzling smile.
It would kill me. It was killing me.
He didn’t love me. I didn’t believe it at first. How could I? He was so convincing. Yet, in the end, I was too pathetic for even him to use. PATHETIC. I slammed my fist into the microwave door. It slid back against the wall. I punched it, again. It dented. I punched it, again. It caved in a little.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Maybe Charlie had come to finish me off. I wished. Not that he would kill me but that it was him on the other side of the door. I could so use a punching bag. I would fuck him up. He thought I was weak. I wouldn’t need a gun this time. I would bloody his face. It would swell up like a balloon.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I wiped the tears from my cheeks and walked over to the door. My heart fluttered when, for a moment, I thought it might be Devin. I was so angry at him. Yet, if it were him, I would wrap my arms around him. I’d kiss him. I’d punch him. I’d fuck the ever-living shit out of him until neither of us could walk straight for a month.
I looked through the peephole. It was MaryAnn. She knocked, again. I opened the door.
“Hey,” she smiled.
I nodded.
“So, you and Devin clearly broke up.”
“Probably pretty obvious,” I mumbled.
She walked through the door and sighed. I slumped down on the couch.
“Was Devin your first boyfriend?”
I looked up at her and glared.
“Sorry, bad question. Listen, sometimes relationships don’t work out. You can’t let this bring you to the brink. Okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“Yeah, you’re not fooling anyone. There are procedures to follow when something like this happens. Humanity has lived through thousands of years of heartache to come up with an answer.”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“Okay, it’s been four weeks. You have turned inward. You are inside your head so much, I’m worried you will implode. You’re like a star about to collapse in on itself.”
She sat down next me and slung her arm over my shoulder.
“The solution is comprised of two parts. The first part entails eye candy with a huge dong. The second part, though equally important, is alcohol.”
“You’re encouraging me to drink my sorrows away. You’re a terrible friend!” I laughed.
“If by terrible, you mean awesome, then yes. Drinking takes the sting off. I promise.”
MaryAnn convinced me that I needed to get blistering drunk, at least once. She explained that if I could find a dumbass wrapped in a nice package, that would help too. Apparently, in her experience, dumbasses usually had gigantic dicks. I couldn’t imagine fucking anyone else. I loved Devin.
Still, the thought of some man pining after me was intriguing. Getting completely obliterated was even more interesting.
MaryAnn and I went through my closet and found the tightest little black dress we could. My ass cheeks were nearly visible. My tits looked awesome, nearly spilling out of my dress. I put my hair up, slapped on a layer of dark red lipstick, and grabbed a sparkly clutch that still had the tag on it. I didn’t go out very much. I bought that clutch four years ago and hadn’t used it once.
I looked in the full-length mirror hanging on my door. I looked hot. Fuck. I couldn’t believe that was me staring back. I looked like a normal girl, a happy girl. I looked like a completely different person. It was nice to wear a different identity. The girl I stared back at didn’t have a broken heart. The girl that looked back at me had great supportive parents who weren’t dead and had never been assaulted by her psychopath
co-worker.
“Damn,” MaryAnn looked me up and down.
We drove down to Hartigan’s. MaryAnn assured me that our colleagues wouldn’t be there tonight. I wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t really care. We went straight to the bar, turning the heads of horny men as we passed them. MaryAnn insisted that she would pay for our drinks tonight.
“I’ll take a Jack & Coke,” I told the bartender, “Heavy on the Jack.”
“You got it,” the bartender winked.
The bartender, a tall red head with black framed glasses and a sleeve of skulls drawn skillfully on her pale skin, winked at me. She slipped me her phone number on a little sheet of paper along with my drink. She was hot. Women never hit on me, so her slight affection was kind of a big deal. It shot up my confidence by 300 points. I was open to having a good night. I needed it.
I wouldn’t remember this in the morning. Five shots later, my brain was like an Etch-A-Sketch that would shake clean in the morning. I was stumbling drunk. I didn’t give two fucks about anything. I sure as shit didn’t give two fucks about what’s-his-name.
MaryAnn and I sat at a table with five guys. Five guys who were looking for an easy fuck. They were good looking, in a conventional sense. They were the square-jawed, clean-cut types from childhood fairy tales. Prince charming was never my type. I liked danger. I loved Devin. It didn’t matter, though.
The alcohol made me think their jokes were extra funny.
A man, whose name I’d already forgotten, had his hand on my thigh. He slid it back and forth, closing in on the prize. He wanted me. Somebody wanted me. I wasn’t sure it was enough.
I was very drunk. The heat of whiskey licked at my cheeks, turning them apple red. Still, I couldn’t get Devin out of my mind. The rumble of laughter, music, and chatter was nothing but white noise. It wasn’t loud enough. I could still hear my inner voice screaming out.
The man sitting next to me nudged me in the side.
“You want to dance, darlin’?” he asked, sincerely.
I looked over his shoulder. I noticed a man through the thick crowd of people. He had a shaved head, a big beard and a ruck of tattoos on his arms. Was it really him? I stood up from the table, walking towards the man. As I got closer, he turned toward the bar.
“Devin?”
He didn’t turn around. I tapped him on the shoulder. My heart raced. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted him to tell me it was a lie. I wanted him to tell me he loved me. He turned to face me. It wasn’t him. He smiled, nodding to the woman sitting next to him at the bar.
She was beautiful, with long blonde hair and a bright red dress. She looked at me, her face contorted as if to say, ‘Why the fuck are you talking to us?’ I shook my head and put my hand up.
“Sorry.”
As I turned away, the tears began to stream down my face. I walked straight towards the front door. MaryAnn came sprinting toward me.
Outside, she didn’t say anything. She put her arms around me and let me weep into her shoulder.
“Babe, I’m sorry. I really am.”
“No, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have come out.”
“I shouldn’t have convinced you.”
I shook my head, “I just wish you could understand.”
“I do. You loved him. I know what that’s like. I’ve been in love before. It was the biggest mistake of my life. You can’t give someone that much power. That’s my philosophy, anyway.”
“Maybe you’re more like me than you’d care to admit,” I said, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
“Maybe so.”
She squeezed me tight, patting my hair with her hands. I cried for a little while. It was nice to have a friend in MaryAnn. She was just trying to be good to me. Of course, I turned the night on its ass because I was an emotional wreck.
“I appreciate everything you do for me. I’m ready to go home. Okay? I’m sorry. I just need to be alone.”
MaryAnn nodded, “Well, that’s fine dear. For the record, you look hot as shit tonight. If Devin could see you, he’d kick himself square in the balls.”
I laughed at the thought. I wondered if he’d be jealous.
“You want to hear another bad idea before you go home?”
“Hit me,” I said.
“You want to go throw eggs at his apartment? We could probably very easily hit the balcony door?”
I laughed, “Yeah, I don’t know. As much as I’d love to stick it to him, I don’t think I could handle seeing him right now.”
When she pulled up in front of my apartment, she sighed, “Well, goodnight doll. You need me for anything, just call.”
She kissed my forehead and told me she’d see me at work.
***
At work, the following week, I carried a small envelope. I spent much of the weekend perfecting my resignation letter and sorting through my savings. I needed a fresh start. Florida sounded nice, mainly because it was on the other side of the country.
I waited to turn it into my boss, though. Why? Devin and I had a scheduled meeting today. If he didn’t show, I knew I was making the right decision. I wasn’t going to try and get him in trouble. I’d fake a report and say he came in. Still, I wanted a chance to see him. I needed to tell him how I felt before I left.
He was supposed to show up at ten in the morning. I watched the clock, waiting. It took forever. It was the slowest hour of my life. It was the last hour I’d allow myself to give him. The words he said just before I left his apartment echoed in my mind. He didn’t love me. He conned me. I needed to get it through my thick ass skull.
When the clock struck eleven, I grabbed the letter out of my purse. I handed it to my boss, who said he was sad to see me go. I was certain that he thought it had to do with Charlie attacking me. I stopped by MaryAnn’s office and let her know.
“So, don’t tell me today is your last day?” she asked with an edge of anger in her voice.
“Don’t be pissed.”
“I am pissed,” she growled, “but I understand.”
“I guess the letter was really more of a formality. I can’t spend another minute in this office. I need to start fresh. I’m moving to Florida.”
“Goddamn it! You suck! Who am I supposed to hang out with now?”
I smiled, “I’ll send you postcards. I promise.”
“You better.”
She hugged me and pulled away, “I’m really glad we became friends. I AM throwing you a going away party. It’ll be this Friday. Are you good with that or will you be on an airplane to Miami?”
“I’m not moving to Miami. I’m moving to Greenwood.”
“Greenwood? I’ve never heard of it.”
“I don’t think a lot of people have. That’s the beauty of it.”
Chapter 20
Devin “The Devil’ Winchester
It was a particularly dark night. My heart raced as I pulled the bike into the parking lot at the clubhouse. I’d cut the motor and the lights. I was being overly cautious. Thank Christ nobody suspected me. I kept myself collected during our meetings. The conference was in two weeks. We were all getting prepared.
Tonight, everyone had gone out drinking. They were all likely passed out in their beds at home. I drank, too. I took it easy, though. Nobody seemed to notice or care. When everyone went home, I went back to the clubhouse. I used my code, got in through the gate, and stood in front of Mathias’s locked door.
He had a nice office on the second floor. It was a very big room with expensive leather couches and a mahogany desk. He kept a wet bar with aged scotch and crystal that was more expensive than most people’s cars. I jimmied the lock with a hairpin. I had to be careful not to do any damage.
This was only phase-one of the mission, as I saw it. I needed to keep Mathias in the dark. He needed to think I was completely dumb to his corruption. Luckily, I was damn good at picking locks. I made a lot of money out of high school breaking into houses and businesses. I’d perfected the art long ago. It was like learning to ride a bik
e: you never really forgot.
I slipped inside, closing the door behind me. I switched on the corner lamp. I crept over to his desk and shuffled through papers and folders. So far, it all looked good. There were registration forms for all the patched members to get into the conference. There was an invoice for a new bike. Of all the members of The Sons, Mathias had the best bikes.
What a fucking dick. He had no problem with being ostentatious. He liked to think he was the baddest motherfucker on the block. Really, he was just a sellout. Money had corrupted him. He was like every other elitist bastard. He forgot his way. He forgot about the life of an outlaw. He traded it in to be a fat-cat. Must have been worth it, if he was willing to sell us all out.
At least, that was what I thought he was doing. He arranged to have me killed by The Snakes. He arranged the hit on Oliver, too. He used Adam as a spy. The Snakes gathered around Adam, offering protection. No doubt, they had no idea what Abraham was up to.
I began searching through his drawers. There was nothing I could use. I had to find out what this all meant. I had to find out why Mathias betrayed The Sons of The Shadow. Finally, in the bottom drawer, behind several manila folders, I found a dinky little burner phone. It was one of those prepaid phones you could get at the market for ten bucks.
I grabbed it and put everything back in its place. I arranged all the papers, just as I found them. I switched the lamp off and locked the door, as I left. I was confident that he would never know I was there.
***
I waited for a man named William Greene. I texted him from Mathias’s burner. Every message on the phone was in code. There were messages like ‘The apples are rotten’ or ‘The sun tastes yellow’. I couldn’t decipher it. So, I took a risk. I texted the contact to meet me. I wasn’t sure if he’d follow through since they likely had a code for meetings, as well.