Jake’s Silence

by Joy Blood

  “I was thinkin’ that he was a little light on his information. You know damn well there were more than just one of those assholes that shot up the club.” Gin’s voice carries in the vast empty parking lot. Even with the wind blowing he can still be heard over the howl.

  “I fuckin’ know that.”

  “How the fuck would you? You weren’t there! None of you were! I fuckin’ was!”

  “We fuckin’ know!” Sage shouts over Gin’s outburst getting up in the man’s face. “You make sure to remind us every chance you get. Yeah. We should have been there. Fuck, me and Jake should be dead along with the rest of them. Shit, you should be too. But you know what? We aren’t. We are fucking here. Here to track down the pricks that did it.” Sage’s body crowds Gin’s as much a humanly possible. They are probably both about the same height, but not the same build. While Gin is thick with solid muscle, Sage is leaner and cut.

  “You need to step back man. Your shit is coming unglued and it ain’t good for the club,” Sage continues only adding to the anger visibly rising in Gin’s eyes. “It ain’t good for you. You shouldn’t have even been on this run. Or any others as far as I’m concerned.” I think I hear the slam of Gin’s fist before I even realize it is happening. Sage’s body flings back as if he is weightless but before he can fall to the ground Ringer is there behind him stopping him from landing in the dirt.

  Lunging forward I grip my arms around Gin as best as I can to hold him back. “Gin. Fucking quit,” I say into his ear as loud as my voice can manage. He struggles a bit more but finally quits. “You know he’s right.” The words hurt to say but I know they need to be said. “You need to take a step back.” I can feel the submission in his shoulders as he completely stops the fight against my hold. But he still doesn’t talk. I look over to see Ringer is also holding Sage who looks like he is about to burst.

  “Fuckin’ hit me brother?” Sage shouts, trying to get at Gin but he has already admitted defeat.

  “Shut it Sage.” I hear Ringer but Gin is now turned and looking at me. I watch as he bends down to gather up the folder that had fallen to the ground and hands it to me.

  “Get the prick, but don’t kill him until you get all of the locations of the other rat bastards.” Gin says then looks over at Sage who has calmed down enough to be released. “All of us should be,” he says then walks over to his bike. He starts it up and is gone, only leaving behind a plume of dust in his wake.

  “Fuckin’ hell. That went well. You should be a counselor or something, Sage,” Ringer grumbles as he walks over to his bike and swings a leg over. Sage and I do the same. I take a quick second to flip through the folder. Dean Sander. One of the members of the Chicago chapter. Never met him but I know his name is on our list. Sans, is what they called him. Looks like he is holding up in a little town called Pole, in middle of nowhere Wyoming. From the time stamped photos, he is living in a tin can in some shitty ass trailer park. Most recent one was taken two days ago. He damn well better still be there.

  “Let’s ride,” I rasp out, tucking the file into my saddlebag then taking out a bottled water to take a quick swig for the road. When I put it back I make my eyes look past the helmet sitting inside. Except I can’t. The thoughts I have kept at bay for the last couple hours are plaguing my mind, whether I like it or not.

  The boys have started their bikes and are now waiting for me to do the same. The vibration comes to life and I push off. Kimi stays there though, in the forefront of my damned mind as we tear up the highway heading for home.

  Twenty-Seven

  Kimi

  As soon as I was released from the hospital I decided I needed to go home, to Cental. I was able to take an absence from classes, so I went home with Vin and Ellie. Right now, though, I’m in the truck with Vin driving to the clubhouse. I have tried to call Jake for two days now and it keeps saying that the phone has been disconnected. When Ari told me he had called, but then was cut off, I didn’t know what to think. I was hopeful he had called, but also scared because there was the possibility he was still mad—more like certainty.

  As we pull up to the clubhouse, my heart starts pounding when I find his bike. The bay doors of the garage are wide open, filled with the bikers working on various cars and trucks.

  I don’t spot him right away when I get out and start walking the direction of the shop, knowing that is more than likely where he will be. Scanning the area, I’m met with curious eyes and some chin tips before the men go back to work. It’s when I hear a rolling set of wheels along the cement that Jake comes into view. He is laying on one of those rolling things that go under vehicles. He has on a black shirt and faded grease stained jeans. When he gets to his feet I don’t miss the scowl and surprise on his face.

  “Hi, Jake. Can we talk?” My fingers are digging into my palms and with the pressure they would probably break skin if I hadn’t chewed the nails off the night before. But I knew it needed to happen. His face is impassive and he only stares at me, looking me over from head to toe. “Please, Jake,” I whisper, making his brow crease.

  “Please? Kidding me, Key?” This voice is something I have never heard before. It’s louder and I can only imagine how much it hurts for him to speak this way. Probably as much as it is going to hurt me to hear it.

  “Jake. I…” I take a quick look around us and see that most of the men are looking our way, jerking their heads back down when they meet my eyes. We have become a skeptical.

  “You…” He clears his throat and clutches at the raised skin on his neck.

  “You are going to hurt yourself, Jake.” A terrible laugh is all I receive in return.

  “Care how I feel now?”

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t? Didn’t I say the same to you?” He steps just a little closer, his large body making me want to curl into a ball and shield myself from what he is about to say. “You killed our baby!” He shouts as loud as his voice possibly can and it causing me to flinch. “Don’t want to talk—” His words are cut off by a flash of a white t-shirt and a fist. I watch as, from out of nowhere, Vin comes to my side and lays Jake out onto the ground.

  “You motherfucker! You don’t get to talk to her that way. Don’t care how pissed you are! Not fuckin’ happening.” Vin yells out and without another word wraps his arm around my shoulder and guides me to the truck.

  We drive in silence on our way back to the house. When we get there, he has to pick me up and bring me to my room. I’m so broken about what just happened. I knew Jake was going to be mad. Knew he would maybe yell but for him to do that in front of all the Riders—that broke my heart.

  “Kimi, do you want anything to eat?” I hear Ellie’s voice come through my sleep. Slowly cracking my eyes, I look up to see it’s dark and she is holding something in her hands. “I made French toast.” She gives a small smile but I don’t return it. I only want to go back to sleep and pretend that the last week never happened. “Okay. Well, I will just leave it here in case you want it later,” She tells me, and then leaves me alone, again.

  I drift back to sleep only to be woken by a loud rumble I know all too well. Like a rope pulling me from bed, I spring up and go to the window. Jake is already parked and looking up at my window. It’s dark but from the tall light that illuminates the drive, I can tell he has a black eye. Without even thinking I’m out of the room and running down the stairs to see him. Someone has me beat already though. Vin. He is already telling Jake to leave using some very colorful words that I myself might consider using too.

  “I don’t care if you are here to profess your undying love to her. You just made her feel like a piece of shit in front of the whole fucking club, Jake. I know we go way the fuck back, but that girl is like a daughter to me and you just broke her heart.” Vin growls out at him, looking like he is ready to give Jake another black eye to match the one he received earlier today.

  “Fuckin’ know that.” I hear Jake say, his voice sounding strained. Vin starts to talk again but I stop him
by putting a hand on his shoulder.

  “Shit, didn’t know you were out here Kimi. I was just telling him to leave.”

  “It’s fine. I can talk to him. Maybe this time he will let me speak,” I say, looking pointedly at Jake. His face is sullen, but I can tell he is still upset over everything that has happened. Vin gives me a nod then goes back inside, leaving me to talk to Jake, who comes a few steps closer and starts to try and talk.

  “No. You didn’t let me get a word in today before you started yelling at me. So now, you are going to listen.” I back up a step to show that I don’t want to be close. “What you did today was so wrong. How you talked to me.” I take a deep breath and let it out trying to keep myself from shedding another tear. “I know when we talked last time…Jake, I changed my mind.” I watch as relief and sadness fall over his face. “I couldn’t do—” Before I can finish, he is already stepping toward me and pulling me tight.

  “So fuckin’ sorry, Key. So damn wrong,” he says into my ear, making my heart crack in two, even with me changing my mind there still isn’t a good outcome. “Everything, I can to make it up.” I can feel his lips at my ear and his arms tighten more but I don’t return the hug. When he realizes this, he tenses up again and pulls back enough to look down at me. “Key?” I slowly shake my head and I watch as he puts the pieces together.

  “I changed my mind,“ I look up to his eyes, “but I lost the baby anyway.” I'm trying my best not to blink. If I blink, the tears will fall. It’s like I’m hurting him all over again with the news. The moisture gathers in his own eyes but it doesn’t fall. He clutches me to his chest again and buries his face in my hair.

  “Made it worse for you. Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says against my neck. We stand there and hold each other until everything is gone. All the hurt, all the tears, all the anger. I back away knowing there is more I need to say.

  “You broke my heart today Jake.” I tell him crossing my arms over my middle, missing the warmth his body brought to mine. “You made me feel like trash in front of the whole club.” He shakes his head and tries to talk. “No. Please don’t talk. I know your throat must hurt after today and really, I can’t bear to hear you speak right now. I’m going back to school in three days and I don’t want to see you while I’m here. So, don’t come by. I need a little time.” I consider his eyes and see the need, the want to tell me exactly how he is feeling about all this, but it is trapped inside him. He only nods in agreement. “Thank you.” But before I can go back inside he is on me again, squeezing me tight.

  “Get a week, Key,” he says, letting me go. He turns away, and walks back to his bike. He doesn’t look back, but I know he watches me in his mirror as he drives away.

  A week? What did that mean? I suppose I will find out when the time comes.

  Twenty-Eight

  Jake

  “I know all of you want in on this, but I can’t have the club vacated and vulnerable. I’ll take Jake and Sage. We will get the prick and haul his ass back here for a little Q&A.” I can tell that the rest of the club isn’t very happy about Rock’s declaration, but it is what it is. They will have to live with it.

  I came back to the clubhouse, from Vin and Ellie’s, and was told we were having church. Leaving Kimi and telling her I would give her a week was hard, but I know she needs her space, especially after the shit I just put her through. Fuckin’ hell. Losing the baby had been hard enough on her then I had to go and accuse her of…I’m a piece of fucking shit. She deserves more than a week, but that is all I can give.

  Rock goes on about the plan to get one of the traitors, the one we got info on from Flores. We are riding out tomorrow morning, then taking the prick down that night. Under the radar type shit, no bikes, no cuts. Like we weren’t even there. When Rock is done, I get my moment. Something that has been discussed amongst the brothers for months now and needs to be set to a vote. Rising to my feet, I try as best as I can to speak my piece, leaning toward Rock so he can put the words to a louder voice.

  “Rico. Has this club’s back. Vote to patch him in. No prospectin’ bullshit. Man’s earned the colors.” And he has. He is probably the best damned tech guy there is and has gotten us out of more shit in the past years than we would have without him. Rock repeats my motion and there are head nods around the table. Agreed.

  “Send him in,” Rock says to Ringer at the door, who then slips through only to return a minute later with Rico rolling in behind him. The man is tough as nails and I can only imagine the pain he lives with each day, but when he rolls up to Rock and stands to his feet, there isn’t an ounce of discomfort on his face. “Welcome brother.” Rock says as he pulls a leather cut over Rico’s shoulders. There is clapping all around as Rico receives his cut and him and Rock slap each other backs. Then Rico makes the rounds, embracing each brother in congratulations.

  “It’s a fuckin’ honor,” he says with a slight smile. I’m not sure if I have ever seen the man crack more than a grin. I can tell the strain of standing and moving around is getting to him, so I grip the handles of his chair and push it over. “Thanks, man,” he says taking it from me and slamming his ass down onto the seat. “Maybe one day I will be able to do without this shit,” he says with mock annoyance. The chronic pain he must be in can’t be bearable. Shit, I know a little something about pain. Every time I try to raise my voice louder than a whisper it feels like my gears are grinding together. No wonder the man smokes so much damn weed. I would too if it didn’t make things worse. Cottonmouth doesn’t do my throat much good.

  “We’ll have a patch-in party this weekend. Send word to Rhino and let’s invite the Siberians,” Rock says, getting a round of head turns.

  “Siberians?” a few of the brother’s question.

  “We need allies, and they have been forthcoming. Let’s extend that hand and keep it going. Be on your guard though.” Rock turns to me. “Call Premo?” he asks. I give a head nod in response. Suppose I could do that.

  “I’ll get ‘em here.”

  * * *

  The ride out in the morning is the three of us all crammed into Rock’s truck. I think about texting Kimi, but put my phone away. She needs space. I have to keep telling myself to leave her alone.

  Watching Rock say goodbye to Buggs made me want to rip my damn arm off so I didn’t have to feel the pain in my chest from not being able to do the same with Kimi. Time. Fuckin’ time. It’s a bitch.

  It seems to take us days to get to our destination, but we reach it right when night is starting to fall. The old trailer park is filled with a mix of old campers and broken trailer homes. All of which should have been condemned years ago. The road we drive on isn’t even paved. Large potholes, that could swallow up a bike, are everywhere making me glad we are in this cage. As for our destination, it sits on the far end, second to last place on the corner. We park down a few spaces and get out, fully equipped with our guns and bulletproof vests. Sage stays behind to be the lookout in case the rat flees. Rock and I walk together, keeping watch over each other’s back as we reach the rotted-out steps. Careful not to fall through, we take the steps up and push the already open door.

  We search the place but it’s empty. No evidence that there has even been someone staying here. Nothing that tells us shit, that is until gunfire lets out all around us. Pieces of wood splinter as the bullets fly and we hit the floor. “Fuckin’ set up!” Rock shouts as we hug the grimy carpet. The grit presses into my face and I can feel debris landing on my back. Whoever is shooting has a semi-automatic, firing off rounds and turning the trailer into Swiss cheese. The shots are joined with five single shots, each one making the onslaught of bullets come to an end. “Pres!” I hear Sage call out as his feet slam on the ground running closer to where Rock and I are pushing ourselves from the floor.

  I take a look around and find the walls littered with holes. Enough that I have a visual on Sage before he throws open the door that falls off its hinges. “Shit, you okay, VP? As soon as you walked in, they all came
filing out of the trailer behind this one. Would have opened fire sooner, but someone grabbed me from behind,” he explains as we step outside. On the ground, four bodies lay in pooling blood—four guys dressed in buttoned up flannels. Flores’s men. We were fuckin’ set up.

  “That motherfucker just declared war,” I grit out, looking over the dead men.

  “Flores’s guys?” Rock questions, and both Sage and I confirm with a nod. “Dead man. Get ahold of Premo. Tell him what happened and to void that cease-fire. We are going to need the Siberians now. War is coming.” He reaches his hand up and cups his shoulder, coming away with his hand covered in red. Shit.

  “Fuckin’ hit, Pres,” I say. I go to check the wound over, but he brushes me away.

  “Just a graze. I’m good. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” I let it go and walk to the truck, ready for this trip to be fucking over. “Wish we had one of these bitches alive to question,” Rock says, getting a broad smile from Sage. “What’s got you grinnin’?”

  “I just so happen to be in a wish-granting mood,” he says, going to the truck where there is another one of Flores’s men out cold on the ground. “This fuck tried to come up behind me and take me out. Got the best of him, though. Let’s ask him some questions,” Sage says with an even bigger grin, pulling the man up to a sitting position propped up against the wide tire of Rock’s truck.

  “Wake up fucker, you have some explainin’ to do,” Sage tells the man, slapping him on the cheek until his eyes finally open.

  “Pricks should’a died like good bitches. Now things are going to get worse,” The guy says through a bloodied smile.

  “The fuck does that mean?” Rock asks.

  “Fuckers will know soon enough,” Fucker says, being vague.

  “Tell us now, and we will make it quick,” Sage says, holding his knife to the man’s throat.