A Family Man

by osborne, Sarah

  “Moody.”

  “Same old, then.”

  “Yeah. Same old. So. Want to know what I’m wearing?”

  He hadn’t been bullshitting when he said that hearing her voice made him feel better. All of a sudden, none of this mattered anymore. True, it killed him to see his brothers turn on one another, and when he found which one of them had ratted to the cops, he would gladly end their life. But what was really important to him was his family, his brothers back in Seattle, his ma, Amy, Beth, As long as he had them, everything would be fine.

  ~ oOo ~

  Joe could feel the hate radiate off the Salt Lake Freaks as he followed Vince and the Bay View patches through the clubhouse. It was clear that at least half their number held him and Barney responsible for what had gone down. Despite his warning, both Boots and King had taken off at the first opportunity. Joe didn’t care; they would hunt them down.

  Vince had already called Samson, and every nomad would be looking out for them. There really was no hiding place.

  As far as he was concerned, his work was done. They still didn’t know who had ratted to the police, not only about the car parts but also the guy they had on the inside. But further questioning from Vince had resulted in the secretary admitting his involvement and giving up the whereabouts of the stolen parts. Slowly the details of the whole sorry saga were coming to light, and Joe doubted that the chapter would survive. Leaning on the bar, he lit a cigarette and looked around him, grinning as Spike wandered over to join him.

  “Well that’ll be the last time anyone asks you to flush out a rat. I guess they reckoned you for some dumb fuck that wouldn’t ask too many questions.”

  “I still don’t get why they needed me to take down Dixon, or how he got to be VP in the first place.”

  “Good old-fashioned blackmail. Dixon caught him fucking a brother’s old lady. The old VP had stood down, and King gave him the job. Hadn’t reckoned with his ambition though. Fucker was snapping at his heels, threatening to take what he knew to the club. He needed to get rid of him, and by bringing you in he kept his hands clean. Any comeback would fall on you.”

  Joe nodded. Plenty of chapters would call on him to do those unpleasant jobs that no one else wanted to touch. Not everyone was cut out for killing and torture, and there would always be a role in the Freaks for someone like him. “So what happens now?”

  “That’s up to Vince. Chapter’s lost its prez, SAA and secretary. But if anyone can save it, Vince can. How ‘bout you? You gonna stick around?”

  “Nah, the sooner I get out of this shithole, the better.” He grinned. “Got my family waiting for me.”

  “What about King and Boots? They can’t be allowed to get away with this.”

  “If Vince wants me to go find them, I will.”

  “You know he will. You’re like a bloodhound, Tiny.” It was true. Joe suppressed a sigh. He had been known to spend weeks, months even, tracking down those wanted by the club. He wasn’t the best; Samson and a few of the other nomads would literally leave no stone unturned when it came to hunting down rats, but he was good. And despite his desire to go home to his woman and his kid, the club would come first.

  ~ oOo ~

  Amy looked up as Beth closed her cell. “Joe say when he’s coming home?”

  “No.” She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice. “Soon I hope.”

  “It’s always like this. Him disappearing for weeks on end. It used to drive mom nuts, Nana Sophie too.”

  “I know, Amy. I miss him and I wish he was here. But he will come home to us as soon as he can.”

  “Don’t you worry?” Amy hadn’t slept properly since he went away. It had come as a shock to her how much she had grown to depend on him.

  “Of course I do. But as you said. This is the way it is, and we just have to accept it.” She headed into the kitchen, not wanting Amy to see her tears, She wasn’t lying when she said that they had to accept what Joe did, but it didn’t make it easy. And the thought of him on a manhunt, out alone on the road filled her with dread. Worried? She wasn’t worried. She was absolutely terrified.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Of all his brothers to ride with, Samson was his favorite. The big nomad president was unparalleled when it came to stamina. He would ride for days, through all weather, never showing signs of tiredness or discomfort. Joe had known him to ride for two days straight with barely a break and still be ready for some serious shit-kicking at the end of the run.

  He missed this. Since Amy had moved in with him, he had only been on short runs, staying away for one night at the most. Bugs' old lady would watch her, but Amy wasn’t easy at the best of times, and with four boys of her own, she had enough to deal with.

  Even when she was throwing things at him and calling him all the names under the sun, he loved that moody, irrational kid and didn’t regret for one instant taking her on. But this. Riding with his brother at his side. The growl of the engines, the feel of his Harley under him as they ripped up the highway, lane splitting and weaving through the traffic at ninety. This was who he was. Who he’d always be. While it was true that he missed his little family and felt bad for abandoning them, he knew that if Beth couldn’t accept that this was his life and asked him to choose, he would, without hesitation, put her aside. It would hurt, but he couldn’t stop being who he was. Not for Beth, not for his ma, not for Amy. Not for anyone.

  They had been riding for eight hours, heading east to Omaha, where King’s ex old lady lived. It was a long shot, but Boots had visited an ATM just west of there, so it was worth a shot.

  Less than an hour later they were pulling up outside King’s ex’s house. Joe looked over to the man who had been his president for many years. “How do you wanna play this?”

  “Knock on the front door and ask if they’re there. Ain't no point sneaking around and I doubt they’re stupid enough to stick around. Bitch might know where they’re headed, though.”

  “Makes sense. After you, prez.”

  She was expecting them. Joe followed Samson into her kitchen and leaned on the counter. “King was here?”

  She didn't try to deny it. “Yes. They left early this morning.”

  Samson looked up. “You know where they’re headed?”

  “No. But I’m guessing, maybe Austin. King has family down there.”

  “You got an address?”

  “No. I know he has a sister that lives just out of town. From what he’s told me, the place is a bit off the beaten track. I’m sorry, that’s all I know.”

  Samson smiled. “Appreciate your co-operation. This sister got a name?”

  She shrugged. “I know what happens to people who don't co-operate, I ain't prepared to die for that piece of shit. His sister's name is Mary. She married a Freddy Carter. As far as I know they’re still together.” She frowned. “What will happen when you find them?”

  “You really wanna know?” Joe straightened up.

  “No I guess I don’t.”

  As soon as they got outside, Samson pulled out his cell. “We need to find who’s closest to Austin. Smart move, heading down there. Ain’t a chapter for miles. If we don’t catch up to him he could drop off the radar for good.”

  “They got about four hours start on us. Ain't no way King is gonna do twelve hours straight. Fucker’s too old. Reckon he’ll stop round about Oklahoma. There’s a chance we could catch up to them.” Tiny pulled out his cell. “Gonna call Mac, see if he can’t find this sister.”

  Samson grinned and swung his leg over his bike. This was why he wanted to ride with Tiny. His brother was a natural nomad and, like him, was able to ride over huge distances without a break. “Okay, we passed a gas station and diner a few miles back. We’ll eat, then head south. Hopefully Mac can give us an address and we can get there before they do. That’s if we haven’t been fed a line back there.”

  “Nah. Bitch wasn’t lying.”

  Samson nodded and gunned the engine. If Tiny said she wasn’t lying, t
hen she wasn’t lying. No one read people as well as his brother.

  Again, Mac had come good. Joe vowed to buy the little nerd a drink as they drove down the narrow track, to the rundown-looking house that was set back from the road. Samson pulled over to one side. “We’ll wait here. Don’t think we can be seen from the house or the road here. Fox and Spider should be here soon. Then we’ll decide how this is gonna work.”

  “We’re gonna kill ’em, get some sleep and go home.” Joe shrugged. “Wasted enough time on these assholes.”

  In less than ten minutes, an anonymous black van pulled up, and Fox and Spider climbed out. Fox grinned. “Brothers. Good to see you. When do we get to kill these fuckers?”

  Samson grinned, then immediately took charge. “Spider, I need you to go and check the house. By our reckoning they ain't here yet, but we could be wrong. Tiny, go with him.”

  It came as no real surprise to find there were no bikes outside the house. The only vehicle parked outside was an old station wagon. King’s sister was inside; they could see her moving about through the window. Both men faded back into the shadows, not wanting to alert her to their whereabouts. Silently they made their way back to their brothers and settled down for a hopefully not too long wait.

  Their plan was simple. They would grab them before they reached the house, throw them in the van and take them somewhere discreet to dispatch them. It should have worked—King and Boots' progress was halted by the van across the track, and Tiny and Samson’s bikes prevented a retreat. The sight of four Glocks pointing at them should also have been sufficient incentive to get in the van. Boots, however, had other ideas. He dropped his weapon and walked slowly toward the van, Joe following close behind. Then, as Samson was occupied with tying up King, and Fox and Spider were climbing back in the front of the van, he saw his opening. Turning quickly, he struck Tiny under his ribs, causing him to stagger backwards, and sprinted for his bike with Tiny hot on his tail.

  It was unusual for Joe to be caught unawares, but he really wasn’t expecting the sharp blow to the stomach, winding him and nearly knocking him off his feet. Quickly he recovered and set off after his prey, still trying to catch his breath. There really was no way Boots was going to make it to his bike; all he’d really done was earned himself an extra beating. Joe tackled him from behind, sending them both crashing to the ground. “You really thought you could get away from me, motherfucker?” He grabbed his hair and pounded his head into the ground. “No one gets away from me.” He didn’t stop his assault until a pair of hands grabbed him by the upper arms and dragged him to his feet.

  “We need to get him in the van, Tiny.” Samson frowned as his brother turned around, breathing heavily. “Er, Tiny. You’re bleeding.”

  Joe looked down at the huge red stain the was spreading across his white tee shirt. “Oh. Fucker had a knife” He swayed and, as his vision blurred, sank to his knees.

  Samson pulled him to his feet. “C’mon, bro, we need to get you into the van. Fox, Spider. Get out here!”

  “Shit! What the fuck happened to you?” Spider took Joe from Samson and practically carried him to the front of van. Joe grunted but said nothing. All his concentration was on remaining conscious. He was losing a lot of blood and could feel his body shutting down. “Tiny. Joe. Stay with me.”

  He could hear Spider, but he seemed so far away. Feeling himself being bundled into the passenger seat, he forced himself to open his eyes, as his tee shirt was pulled up and his brother examined the wound. “Bad?” He rasped.

  “It ain't good, bro.” Spider pulled off his hoodie and pressed it against the wound. “C'mon, we better get you patched up. Again.”

  There was no pain, not really. Just a dull, pulsing ache. Despite this, he knew he was dying. With each beat of his heart, more blood was lost. Each breath was harder than the last. He wasn’t afraid to die. He’d stood on the edge of that huge pit of nothingness a hundred times before. There was no afterlife, no retribution. Just nothing. It would be so easy to step over the threshold, to stop fighting for each and every breath and let go. Something, though, was stopping him. He knew the human body would do whatever it could to survive, but that wasn’t what this was. What was stopping him was a skinny teenager with an attitude the size of Nebraska and a dark-haired beauty with eyes as black as his and a smile like sunshine. They filled his consciousness, forcing him to take the next breath. “Spider.” It was barely a whisper. “If I…”

  “Shut the fuck up and keep breathing. I ain't digging three graves. You ain't gonna die. Stop being such a fucking pussy. It was only a little knife.”

  ~ oOo ~

  It was too bright. Joe groaned and tried to turn his head. Pain radiated through his body as he moved, and his throat felt like he’d been gargling with crushed glass. Reluctantly he opened his eyes and found himself staring at the grinning face of his former president. “Hey.” His voice was hoarse.

  Samson’s grin grew wider. “Fuck, man, I got better things to do than sit here holding your hand.”

  Joe closed his eyes, the effort of staying awake was too great. He wondered briefly how close he’d come to death and how long he’d been lying there. He couldn’t remember arriving at the hospital all he could remember was trying to tell Spider about his woman and his kid. Shit. They’d be worried about him. He tried to open his eyes again, but the effort was too great, and he was forced to give up the fight.

  Samson looked over at Joe as he sank back into unconsciousness. He really was one tough son of a bitch; a lesser man wouldn’t have survived. He shook his head. Stubborn fucker had defied the odds again.

  Beth checked her cell for what felt like the thousandth time that day. Something was very wrong, she was sure. Joe tried to call at least every other day, but she hadn’t heard anything for three days now. If she didn’t hear anything by the evening, she was going to have to go to the clubhouse and find out what was going on. She knew he wanted to keep her away from the club. He didn’t want what he did blowing back on her and Amy, and the best way to keep them safe was if no one knew of their existence. As far as she knew the only people who knew about Amy was her father and Bugs, and they had been sworn to secrecy. But no one knew about her. Right now, though, she didn’t care what he wanted. She needed to know what was wrong, and she couldn’t keep pretending to Amy that everything was fine.

  ~ oOo ~

  Joe opened his eyes again. Samson was gone and in his place was Fox. “Where’s Samson?”

  “Had shit to do. Said I’d stick around and keep an eye on you. Pigs have been sniffing around. Told ‘em you were jumped. Didn’t see anything.”

  Joe nodded. Standard MC statement. “You don’t have to stay, Fox.”

  “Yeah I do. Samson’s orders.”

  Grunting with the effort, He tried to sit up a little. “I need my cell.”

  “It’s right here.”

  “Thanks. Can you give me a minute?” He waited until his brother had left the room then pressed call. “Hey.”

  “Oh God, Joe. I’ve been so worried. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” He wasn’t; she could here the strain in his voice. “Just wanted to touch base. Let you know I’m okay. I’m sorry, baby. I can’t really talk now. I’ll call you back later.”

  “Okay. You would tell me if something was wrong?”

  “Of course. I gotta go. Bye, baby.”.

  Beth knew he was lying; she wasn’t stupid. But he wasn’t dead, and he wasn’t in jail. For now that would have to do.

  The next two days were just a blur. Doctors and nurses came in prodded him and told him how lucky he was to be alive. He was just pissed at himself for getting caught out like that. Fox stuck around, but they didn’t talk much. Despite their years as fellow nomads, they didn’t know each other well and neither was talkative. Despite this, he appreciated him sticking around and his offer to ride back to Seattle with him. He could only stay awake for short periods at a time, and it was beginning to seriously piss him off. He was
n’t a man used to inactivity and feeling weak and useless was new to him.

  On the third day, he’d had enough. “Fox. Go find someone. I need to get out of here.”

  “Sorry, brother. Ain't gonna happen. You are here for another three days at least.” He laughed. “Shit man, you can't even walk across the room without nearly passing out. You really think you can ride all the way to Seattle?”

  “Fine. But the next asshole prods me I swear I’ll…”

  “What? Faint on them? Sorry man, you just gotta suck this up till you’re healed.”

  He had tried to be patient, to not rip into the people that were trying to help him. But he was sure that they were as happy to see him leave as he was to go. After much pushing, Beth had finally got him to admit he’d been hurt, and it took all his powers of persuasion to convince her that jumping on a plane and flying out to see him was unnecessary.

  It was over a week before he got back to Seattle. He could only ride for short distances at a time, taking hourly breaks and stopping at a motel or clubhouse every night. He was grateful to Fox for staying with him for the entire trip. It must have been tedious for him, but he hadn’t complained, and without him there, Joe would have definitely pushed himself too hard. Finally, after eight long days, he was home. He was exhausted, sore and, frankly, felt like shit, but as he hugged his girls none of that mattered. He was back where he should be. In the arms of his family.

  THIRTY

  Although she often teased him about it, Amy never saw Joe as old. For as long as she’d known him, he had been unchanged, strong, unbreakable and invincible. She hardly recognized the man standing in front of her. His face was etched with pain, and he looked exhausted, and… old. As she watched Beth lead him to the bedroom she couldn’t stop the feeling of panic that was rising into her throat, threatening to choke her. She’d been scared before. When her mom was using, or when Joe got mad at her, but this was different. He’d been hurt before, and he’d been in jail, but she’d never thought she would lose him. That he could be taken away from her forever. That he could die.