Fury (Rebel Wayfarers MC Book 11)

by MariaLisa deMora

  “The high chair was empty. I screamed and started running, but they grabbed me. Irving put his hand over my mouth and told me if I knew what was good for me, I’d shut up and listen.” She paused, breaths coming fast, mouth open as she panted through the pain of the memory. “‘You want your boy to live, you say nothing.’ His mouth was by my ear, on it. His breath smelled like a septic tank. I smell that in my dreams, sometimes. Foul and dank. Like death. I always thought Irving smelled like death. I didn’t know who he was then. Not then. But I learned, oh yeah, I learned. ‘You want your boy to live? You’re a good momma? Tell Justice this evens the scales. You go to the cops, your boy dies. You do what I tell you to do, and you’ll do it without him in your arms, but knowing he’s warm and breathing somewhere. Tell Justice this evens the scales.’ I didn’t know what that meant. Didn’t know why he’d want me to give Daddy a message. Why he’d even know Daddy.” Her posture had changed as she’d spoken, back rounding so she was hunched over in the chair, protecting herself from a danger decades in the past.

  “I knew, though. Knew better than to call the cops. He didn’t even have to tell me, I just knew. I called Daddy and told him. Told him everything. Told him how my baby boy was crying as they took him away. Crying out for me, wanting his mother. All my daddy told me was to stick tight, stay close to the phone, and not tell anyone anything. I did that. Not sleeping, not eating, even when Jimmy tried to force me, I stayed with my hand on the phone, waiting for his call. Five days later he called. Five days.” She looked up into Mason’s eyes. “Do you know what it’s like to lose part of your soul for five days? For twenty-five years? He called, and all my daddy had for me was sorry.” Her voice changed, pitching lower in register. “He said, ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. He’s alive, that’s all I can tell you.’ I asked him, what can I do? How do I get my boy back, my son? He didn’t have any answers for me. I did everything I could think of, short of going to the cops. Jimmy left. He told me I was obsessed and he needed a wife, not a scarecrow mourning something that never should have been born. He said that to me. Chris is our son. How could a father say that to the mother of his child?” She took a deep breath, mouth covered by one shaking hand.

  “I didn’t find him. You know that much. Never found him. After a while I told myself he was dead. That was better than wondering what was happening to him. I’d looked for a long time, asked all kinds of questions. So I knew, better than most, what kind of outfit Irving had on his mountain. His kingdom, where he thought he could do anything he wanted and no one could touch him. Better dead than there, that’s what I told myself.” She leaned away from the table, taking long moments straightening her body out, shoving her shoulders against the seatback.

  “In college I focused on criminal justice. Everyone always laughed, Justine studying justice. I wanted to make a difference, to help some young mother who had her child stolen, help a child find their way home. Those were the worst dreams, you know? When I’d dream of a five-year-old or ten-year-old Chris crying, screaming out for me, looking for me as desperately as I was trying to find him. I got assigned to the Florida office after I graduated Quantico. About three years later was the first time Daddy showed up. I thought I was clear of him. I thought we were clear. The next time he came, Jimmy’s dad was with him. I learned Jimmy had a wife and three kids. He’d moved on from his failure with me. Mr. Camp’s words meant to hurt, and they did. That’s the last time I saw Daddy.”

  “Why did you let Suches go?” Fury asked his question slowly, taking time to formulate the right words to hit the tone he wanted. “We’ve heard from his associates that you had him on house arrest at one point, and then arrested him again, several weeks later. Both times he was released, and when I look for the papers on the actions, I not only can’t find a warrant, but I can’t find any kind of record of his arrests.”

  Justine’s gaze landed on him, heavy with anger. Not at him, but at something in the past. Suches? Morgan? Fury waited.

  “I have a good team.” Her mouth drew sideways, the smile as familiar as anything because it was one he’d seen on Bethy’s face more than once. Wry and crooked, with Bethy it meant she was being self-deprecating. “My team had word that Suches was teamed up with another man, Gordon Tucker—” Once again she interrupted herself to stare at Fury, his reaction unmistakable. He carefully unclenched his fist from around the crumpled cup, shaking drops of liquid from his fingers. “You know him, too, don’t you?” He nodded.

  “We’ll talk about that later.” With that promise, she continued, “So Suches and Tucker were teamed up and seemed to be set to stir trouble all across the south. Suches connections in Mexico were tightly associated with one of the Mexican drug cartels, and he was bringing in all kinds of drug components that were then processed into one of a dozen designer drugs. They’d sell to US dealers, who would in turn sell to the local addicts. Tucker had different connections. He was in tight with Camp and his ilk, including my father. The two men together were building a business that threatened the stability of communities all across Florida’s panhandle.”

  She made a noise, and he caught the tail end of an eye roll. “We federal types know we can’t kill the drug trade. So we try to unofficially regulate it in lots of ways. Tucker was disrupting everything we’d worked out with the locals about safety and quantities. I wanted to see if there were vulnerabilities I hadn’t considered, but I knew pulling Tucker in would get people involved I didn’t want to see. Namely Daddy and Camp. So, I picked Suches to discuss things with. It was a waste. He didn’t know anything of note. Tucker, however, had all the connections we needed to break. I never did get my hands on him. Last I heard he’d retreated to Mexico, but relations between the countries has deteriorated to the point I can’t even pick up the phone and call folks I used to work with weekly.”

  “You think Tucker’s in Mexico?” Mason’s question sounded offhand, but Fury was looking at him and could see the tension in his face.

  “I know he is. Border agents on this side of the line are all primed to tell me when he moves back across to US soil. I’ve not heard anything.” She shrugged. “So, he’s still in Mexico.”

  ***

  “It’s just so weird.”

  Fury was toweling off after a shower when Bethy’s comment came from the master bedroom of the suite they’d booked at a local hotel. Michael was in the adjoining bedroom, talking on his phone and doing whatever it was teenaged kids did these days. These days. He snorted. I sound like an old man. Staring into the mirror over the sink he focused on his face in a way he normally didn’t take time to do. Tanned and weathered skin; wrinkles at the corners of his eyes because he didn’t like sunglasses, preferring to squint into the sun instead. Reaching up, he ran his fingers through his hair. No gray. He snorted. Not yet. Smoothing his beard down, he examined it and found only the same deep red color he’d borne all his life.

  “I look at Justine—and man, that name’s a mouthful, don’t you think—and she looks just like Davy. Different mothers, but you’d never know it. I always wanted a sister, and now I have one full grown. So weird.”

  “Mmhmm.” He picked up the shaving cream and stared at his face again. What’ll she think when I’m old and gray? There were only four years between them, which amounted to a drop in the bucket. Tipping his chin up, he squirted lather in his hand, then smoothed it on his neck. He was just starting to work it into the skin when his hand was slapped away. Backing up quickly, he turned to face Bethy and saw she was scowling at him, razor in hand.

  “You,” she leaned closer as she shoved the razor behind her back, “are not shaving—” With every word her voice increased in volume until by the end she was shouting. “Your beard!”

  “Baby, no.” He shook his head, laughing. “I’m just cleanin’ up my neck. I’m not shaving.”

  “You’re not?” She looked abashed, then pushed, “Promise?”

  “Promise.” He reached around her and plucked the razor from her fingers. “I like it too
much. It makes me look…like me.”

  It was there and gone before he could isolate the expression, but he saw it. A fleeting change in her face that told of pain and anger, betrayal and hopelessness. I put that there. In that moment, he knew she was remembering him as Derek, scruffy and bald, and playing her in a way that had left a deep and lasting scar. Written in that short-lived expression was the story he most feared for their future and he knew. Down to his bones, he knew. She wasn’t over it, hadn’t forgiven him. No redemption.

  I can work for it, he promised himself. I will work for it. He was willing to do whatever it took to earn her trust.

  She was worth it.

  ***

  Bethany

  Absently threading fingers through her hair, Bethy encountered a snag and flinched, uttering a soft, “Ow.”

  “What’s wrong, baby?” Gabe’s question coincided with a flexing squeeze of her knee, covered for the last hundred miles by his large hand.

  Once they’d gotten together, there were two things she’d realized about Gabe. More than two, she mused, working the knot free as she smiled at him, saying, “Hit a tangle.” His return smile was so tender if she’d been standing, it would have weakened her knees. One of the soul-deep truths she’d come to believe was that he loved her. Devotion was present in his every action, each gesture or word reinforced her decision to take a chance on them. His love was both emotional and tactile in equal measures. If she were near, she would find him touching her, holding her hand or stroking her skin with his fingertips. She wondered at times if it were as much to assure himself they were real, as if he still couldn’t believe his luck.

  The other thing that stood out was how he watched her every move. More than a focus on her comfort, the level of attention could be intimidating. Like today, she thought. She knew he saw everything, even reactions she’d rather hide. Same as Davy. She turned to the window. It wasn’t constant, wasn’t even every day, but things still tripped her up. Between life in the holler and what had happened in Utah, she had her share of demons. Between Gabe and Davy, I’ll be confronting them until every fear is slain. She had been at breakfast this morning when Davy cornered her with questions.

  “Hey, sis.” Bethy looked up, fork finishing its path to her mouth as Davy’s hand landed on her shoulder. “Sleep okay?”

  “Mmhmm.” She smiled at him as he angled himself into a chair at her table. “You?”

  “Yeah, decent. Your boys bein’ lag-a-beds this morning?” She smiled at this statement, more evidence that the changes in her life were the new normal. My boys. He turned a coffee cup over, setting it upright as the waitress showed up with a half-full carafe. “Just the coffee, honey, thanks.” He waited until she’d moved away. “What was your deal yesterday? You had a turn when Jussy was talking about livin’ in the MC clubhouse out west.”

  “Jussy?” Bethy grinned. “I like it. She know you renamed her?”

  “She ain’t complained.” He sipped his coffee with a slight smile.

  “Fits better than Justine.” Bethy wielded her knife and fork, cutting the waffle on her plate into bite-size pieces.

  “Yeah, that’s a mouthful.”

  “That’s what I told Gabe.” She ate in silence for a moment. “It’s good she’s so cool with everything.” He made a soft sound of agreement. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure, honey. Anything.”

  “Did you know John well?” She’d never gotten to meet him, something she’d realized yesterday as Jussy—Bethy gave an internal snort at her easy adoption of that name—talked to Davy about their father. Never met either man. But I was entirely too acquainted with Judge. If those men had been the same, maybe her lack of knowledge was a blessing. “Yesterday, it sounded like you were friends once.”

  “Not really, not ever.” He set his cup down.

  “Do you think Mom was happier out there? If Justice was our father, why would she leave us with…in Kentucky?” Bethy’s emotions were tangled when she thought about the things revealed over the past few weeks. Jussy was her sister because they shared a father, but John was her full brother. Like Davy.

  “What’d you ask her, Mason? Baby, what was that thought?”

  Bethy looked up, startled by the questions. Gabe stood beside her chair, glowering down at Davy. She’d left him dozing in bed a half an hour ago, expecting to take him a cup of coffee back to the room. “Morning.”

  He cupped the back of her head, running his fingers through her hair. She tipped her lips up and he bent to brush a kiss, pressing his mouth to hers. “Morning, Beth.” He kissed her again. “Now, what was that thought?”

  “We were talking about Jussy and John.” Gabe nodded as he settled into the chair next to Bethy. Davy reached out and clasped his hand in a warrior’s grip. Davy said, “I was just asking what bugged her yesterday.”

  “Yeah, I saw that one, too.”

  Of course you did. Bethy rolled her eyes. “You’re both imagining things.”

  “Not fuckin’ likely.” Davy finished his coffee, pushing back from the table. “I’m out. Got an early meeting. Leavin’ her in your capable hands, brother.”

  “I got this.”

  Lips brushed the crown of her head. “Y’all travel safe, yeah?”

  “We will.” Gabe turned over the coffee cup at his setting as Davy walked towards the exit. “Baby, tell me what’s bothering you.”

  The waitress came and left and they sat in silence for a few moments. Bethy knew it was only a matter of time and Gabe would be back questioning her. Dog with a bone. “Jussy,” he made a noise of amusement and she grinned, “was raised a world away from where I grew up, but in some ways our lives were a lot alike. It’s just weird to realize. We share a father, which means the man I thought of as my daddy all my life…wasn’t. Her mother was friends with my mother, while both were with the same man.” She tipped her head, watching his expression for any sense of censure. “Did you know Daddy had a series of women when I was little?” He shook his head, lips pursing. “Yeah. I remember this time when there were three in the house at once. They were all best friends, no lie. Like they had to band together to survive the kind of hell the compound was back then.”

  “Does it bother you about old man Mason not bein’ your daddy?”

  She shook her head. “I think it makes it better, actually. For me, at least. Davy said he didn’t think Irving ever knew. I’d like to believe he did. That would put things into a better perspective, you know? I always wondered how someone who said they loved me could cause so much pain. Like, intentionally set out to hurt me. Makes a body wonder how true their love was. If there was love at all.” Appetite gone, she pushed her plate towards him. “You know what? I’m done.” The look of confusion, fear, and sorrow that crawled across his features froze her for a moment. “Oh, Gabe. No, honey. I’m talking about Daddy.” The breath he released held so much fear. She reached across and grabbed his hand, felt it turn in her grip, Gabe holding on with all his strength. “Baby, I will never leave you. I love you.”

  “I did things, Beth. Hurt you.”

  “We’re past that, promise.” His gaze held hers, steady and patient. “I know what it cost you. You’ve paid in spades, so much. I know who’s in my bed, Gabe. I know that man, and I trust him with my heart. With everything I am, I trust him. I wish you could trust me.”

  Beth glanced over to watch Gabe driving. His command of the car was confident, easy. He must have felt her gaze because he tipped his head, looking at her for a moment. “Baby?”

  She smiled broadly, leaning close as she covered his hand with one of hers, pressing his fingers into her knee, sliding their joined hands higher on her leg. She kissed the corner of his mouth, nibbling gently. Then, keeping her voice quiet and soft out of deference for her sleeping son, she reminded him of something he already knew, but she’d be willing to help reinforce every day for the rest of their lives if necessary. “I love you, Gabriel Ledbetter. I wanna laugh along with you as our chil
dren play, and live with you until I’m old and gray. I love you, that’s all.”

  “Oh, is that all?” He met her lip brush with his mouth, kissing her softly while his fingertips stroked the tender flesh inside her thigh, raising goose bumps on her arms. When she pulled back there was such a look of peace and relief on his face she buried her face against his shoulder to hide her tears.

  “Yeah, that’s everything,” she choked out as he chuckled. God, I love this man. He was worth everything they’d gone through to be together. “Everything.”

  Keyword: Redemption

  Fury

  “What in the fuck do you mean he rolled out?” Fury gritted his teeth and reminded himself for the hundredth time he was on video and couldn’t react the way he wanted, by rolling his eyes and staring at the ceiling while waiting on a response that made sense. “Rolled out where, exactly? You—and I know we had this conversation, Opie—were supposed to be keeping him locked down with escorts. What the fuck happened?”

  “What happened is Spider’s a grown-ass man who decided he didn’t want a babysitter. And yeah, he figured that out about a day into it, so I should count myself lucky that he let us stroll along this long without bolting.” Opie pressed his palms flat to the table in front of the laptop camera, and Fury figured that was his version of suppressing an emotional reaction. “Not a one of us would have stood it this long, and you know it. Weeks and weeks since we got Juanita and Mela home, and nothing to point to that said he had fuck all to do with what Diamond did.”

  “Nothing except the Florida boys who said they’d seen him and Diamond with Lalo, and you know how deep Lalo was with Deacon and Morgan. Deacon was Diamond’s old man, brother. Lalo an enemy.” Fury gestured to the side, knowing Chismoso was within range of the camera. “Chismoso recognized a picture of the man, which tells us all that he’d been around more than once. We needed to keep Spider locked down, and now he’s in the wind.” He shook his head. “So that means you need to find him, like yesterday. Jesus.” He turned from the camera, giving the people on the other end a view of his patch as he faced the group filling the back of the room. Mason is a fuck of a lot better at handling this shit. “Bear, get on the app and call Myron, tell him to join the call.” He ran through other members and officers in his head. “Gunny, call Bones and Tater.” He whirled and stared at the image on the screen. “Get Hurley in there. We cannot be assured of anyone’s safety at this point, but the most at risk are the ones already under this man’s eye. Who’s with Juanita?”