by Deja Voss
“Pearl, if I die today, I want you to know, it was all for you. Your mom…” he says, his voice weak, “she was a bad woman. She wanted to kidnap you. Wanted to sell you for drugs. Your dad and I, we didn’t let that happen. Every month, we sent money to keep them away from you. Your dad worked his ass off to make sure nobody ever came for you.”
“Yeah, well, what your precious best friend neglected to tell you is that when he cast away Lucy, she was six months pregnant with his child. And I wasn’t so lucky. I didn’t have anyone to protect me. Or maybe he did tell you and you’re just playing dumb.” Driller has her pinned to the ground, but she’s shouting as she struggles to get out from under him.
“You tried to kill this man,” I say, walking over to her so I can get a better look at this face that’s so similar to mine. “You killed my dad. You killed your dad.”
“Do you know how many times I wished I just killed myself instead? Do you know what it feels like to have suicidal thoughts when you’re four years old?” She’s blinking back tears and I feel this overwhelming need to hug her, to wipe them from her eyes.
“It didn’t have to be like this,” I say. “Do you know how many times I wished I had a sister? Do you know how much I love you right this second, even though I don’t know you?”
“Well, it just goes to show how privileged you are, because I cannot love you, Pearl.”
“You can,” I plead. I wrap my arms around her and let her cry in my shoulder. “I love you so much. Tell me your name.”
“This is really fucking charming, ladies,” Ransom says, “but I got a man bleeding out on the floor here, and we need to know when the bomb is supposed to go off.”
“The bomb?” I ask.
“Shit!” Driller shouts. He pulls his phone out of his pocket. The room grows overwhelmingly bright as the front door swings open. In rush what looks like hundreds of men in leather, guns drawn.
“Pearl! You alright?” Cubby asks, running over towards us.
“I’m fine,” I say, in complete shock at the intrusion. “He might not be.”
“We got an ambulance on the way,” Betty says, dropping to Stoney’s side. “We got eight minutes to figure out what the hell we’re gonna tell the cops.”
“It was all me,” my sister says. “My name is Annabella Hamilton, and it was all me. And if there’s anyone else in the house, you probably need to get them out now.”
“I’m really fucking confused right now,” Romeo says, walking over to my sister and studying her face. He looks back and forth between the two of us.
“There’s nothing to be confused about,” Driller says. “This bitch was on some revenge mission. Her and her gang fucking shot Vinnie, kidnapped me and Ransom, and tried to fucking off Stoney. Now she’s gonna blow up the clubhouse. She’s a psychopath.”
“She’s the one who brought the bouquet with the pipe bomb?” Romeo asks. “Fucking clever.”
“Holy shit, did anybody get hurt?” Driller asks.
“Nah, but it scared the piss outta Cubby. Literally.”
“I’m so sorry,” Stoney is whispering over and over again. “This is all my fault. All my fault.”
“Relax, Uncle,” Driller says. “You just relax. Hang in there. We’re gonna get you help. We’re gonna get this all taken care of. All you need to worry about right now is breathing.”
Betty holds pressure to his shoulder and the pained expression on his face is at least better than the way he looked like he was slipping away a moment ago.
“Clock is ticking. What are we doing with the bitch?” Romeo asks. “You gonna let her take the heat for all this?”
“I don’t trust her,” Driller says. “Who knows what the fuck she’s gonna tell the police.”
I wrap my arms around Driller, tears streaming down my face. “Please, I already lost my dad; don’t let them take my sister away from me. She didn’t know what she was doing. She doesn’t know us. She doesn’t know you guys. If she even had a day with you, she’d know better. Please don’t let them take her.”
“Goddamn, why are you so sweet?” Driller asks. “Why do you make it so easy for me to love you?”
For the first time in my life, I realize that’s how it’s supposed to be. Love isn’t supposed to come hard. It’s something you give easily. Times might get hard. Times might be painful. But love is something you can always give. It never runs out when it’s true.
My sister shrieks as Ransom hoists her over his shoulder. “Where the hell are you taking me? Please just let me go to jail. Let me make this right.”
“Oh girl, trust me, jail is gonna be a vacation compared to what we have planned for you,” Ransom says. “You fucked with the wrong club.”
“Ransom, she’s my sister,” I plead.
“Yeah, and if Stoney doesn’t pull through she’s gonna wish she was fucking dead. For real.”
“You do nothing until Pearl and I get back to the house,” Driller shouts. “We don’t need any more chaos right now. This is her kin. No matter how fucked-up she is. It’s her call.”
“Fine, but only because of Pearl. You’re fucking lucky you got claimed last night, woman.”
The way he says it makes me clench my thighs together. Such a weird combination of feelings to be experiencing in such a tragic instant, but at least it means my sister will live long enough for me to talk to her. To know her. To figure out where I came from.
The ambulance sirens begin to wail in the distance.
“Who are those fucking jokers that were shooting at me?” Ransom asks.
“They’re nobody. Nobody’s gonna miss them. Just some gangbangers looking to make some extra cash,” Annabella says, the expression on her face completely blank.
He takes off for the back door with Annabella draped over his shoulder effortlessly, and we huddle around Stoney. Driller’s dad leads the paramedics to us, and they quickly whisk him up onto a stretcher and start wheeling him off. Driller, Cubby, and I chase after them.
“I’m gonna need you guys to stick around for some questioning,” Henry says as soon as we get to the door.
“Please, Henry. Can this wait until we get to the hospital?” For a moment I feel bad for my “best friend’s” husband. He’s just trying to do his job. Me, my family, the club, haven’t exactly made it easy on him over the last week. He furrows his brow and looks around. “Go on. We’ll talk to you there. I hope the old guy is alright.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Cubby waves for us to get in the ambulance with him, and we do. The paramedics are hooking all these tubes and needles up to Stoney, and even though I know they’re just doing their job, and he’s in safe hands now, it just makes things look so much more dramatic. Reality is, his condition is not great, and my sister is responsible for all this.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, grabbing his hand. “I’m sorry she did this to you, Stoney.”
“Pearl, you don’t have a single thing to be sorry for. I’m sorry I put you in a dangerous situation. I’ve been putting my whole club in dangerous situations for the last six months because of my petty bullshit. It’s time for me to go.”
“No!” I shout. “It’s not time for you to go! Don’t say things like that!”
“He’s going to be alright,” the paramedic says as he slides the oxygen mask up. “Unless there’s complications, this wasn’t a fatal injury. He needs to rest, now, though.”
I don’t know how there couldn’t be complications. The man drove his van through a building and got shot twice. Maybe he’s just that tough.
Driller wraps his arms around my shoulder and hugs me tight.
“I thought you left me,” I say, tears running down my face. “The way you didn’t come back, I didn’t know what to think happened.”
“Never.” He kisses my forehead and pulls me tighter. “I would never leave you, Pearl. I’m sorry I let you down on the day of your dad’s funeral. That was stupid of me.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you were t
hinking, son,” Cubby says with a scolding tone. “You two had no business going out without telling anybody. This shit has to stop right now. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”
“There’s a lot of shit that needs to stop right now. If the club keeps going on like this, we’re all gonna end up dead.”
“I know, kid,” he says. “So does your dad. Stoney too. Reason why we even showed up at the shop was because he had us put a tracking device on him. He knew he couldn’t be left to his own devices. After the explosion went off and nobody could find him, we traced him here.”
“What happens now?” Driller asks.
Cubby shrugs, and the ambulance pulls into the emergency room entry. As the paramedics wheel him out, the guys from the club who met us at the hospital rush over to see their president get wheeled into the operating room.
“Somebody get her checked out,” Cubby says, pushing me through the waiting area.
I’d nearly forgotten the bruises forming on my body, the brush burn covering me from head to toe. In the wake of all this emotional trauma, my body must’ve at least granted me the illusion that I was physically okay.
“I’m fine,” I murmur. “I’m fine.”
“It’s gonna be alright, Pearl.” A nurse helps me into a wheelchair and starts pushing me down the hallway. Driller rushes beside me until we get to a private room.
“Sir, unless you’re immediate family, you can’t come in here.”
“Please,” I plead. I realize I’m crying so hard now I can barely make out words. “Please let him stay. I don’t have anybody. I want him here with me.”
“Miss, you need to calm down,” she says, her tone snippy and short. She’s looking at him like he’s some piece of dirt and I’m just some idiot. Judging him based on the clothes he’s wearing. Judging me based on the way I look.
“You need to get off your power trip. It’s been a long day, and he belongs in here with me as much as anyone else in this world. Let him in, lady, before I find someone who will.”
For the first time today, I laugh. Driller laughs too. The nurse rolls her eyes, but she holds the door open for him so he can come in the room with me.
It feels good to have my voice back.
“I’m sorry,” I say as she closes the door behind me. “That was really impolite of me. I have nothing but respect for nurses.”
“I’m just looking out for you.” She closes the door behind us and sticks a thermometer under my tongue. “Sometimes in situations like these, a woman might need to talk to someone privately?”
I know what she’s implying. I am thankful she’s doing her job, but I don’t like what she’s trying to say about Driller one bit.
“I’ll happily step outside if it’ll make your job easier, ma’am,” Driller says.
“You better not,” I say, reaching for his hand. She slaps the blood pressure cuff on my arm. I’m never letting him out of my sight again.
“Your vitals look good. Your blood pressure is a little high, but that’s to be expected. I’m gonna send someone in to treat your cuts so they don’t get infected, and you should be able to get out of here.”
She steps out of the room, and Driller picks up my shirt just a little, the scrapes on my ribs an angry red.
“Apparently my tuck and roll skills are a little lacking.” I laugh nervously and he looks away, slapping his hand over his mouth.
“Pearl, this is not the life I wanted to start with you. This ain’t fair to you.”
“Are you breaking up with me?” I stammer.
“No. Never. That’s not how any of this works. I’m just saying, maybe we need to take a step back. Maybe this isn’t the place we need to be. We can go anywhere in the world you want. You’re talented. I have some money saved up. It’ll be rough for a little bit, but I’m gonna take care of you.”
“Driller, that’s very kind of you.” The hurt on his face shatters my heart in a million pieces. Nobody’s ever been worried about me like this before. “That’s why I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not going anywhere. If I’ve learned anything since my father’s death, it’s that family is everything. Your family, no matter how different they are, they’re mine now, too. I’d never take you away from them.”
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you, too. I just hope that when it comes to family we can all learn to find a little forgiveness in our hearts…”
“You’re worried about your sister?”
“I never had a chance to know her.” The idea that I’ve gone my entire life with a sibling in this world who I never even knew existed has me all sorts of conflicted. I know all the stuff she did was terrible, but I need to talk to her. I’ve never even met her, and I am overwhelmed with love for her. “I know it’s fucking crazy.”
“I don’t think there’s anything crazy about it.” He shrugs and presses his lips to mine, and as much as I want to shove my tongue in his mouth right here, the door swings open.
“Pearl!” Riley shouts, running straight towards me. Her mascara is all the way down to her chin and she throws her arms around me, squeezing me so hard I shriek from the pain. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be apologizing to me. Everything you said was right. Everything you said is true. I have been a shitty friend to you for a long time. I guess I just figured pushing you away was kinder than holding you back. You always had potential to do such great things. I knew from the time we were teenagers you were gonna do great things with your life.”
“Still am,” I say. “It just might take a little longer to get the shop back up and running than we initially thought.”
“You’re staying here?” she says, raising her eyebrows.
I reach for Driller’s hand and nod. There’s nowhere in the entire world I’d rather be. Well, maybe not in a hospital room would be nice.
“We have a lot of catching up to do.”
“That we do,” she says.
The door opens again and Decker and Red Eye come rushing in.
“Guys, the nurse is going to hate this,” I say.
“Don’t worry, old Chubs got her distracted. Apparently she has a thing for doughy old dirt bags,” Decker says with a laugh. “We just wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re alright. They just brought Stoney out of surgery.”
“And?” Driller asks.
“Everything went smooth. Looks like the old guy is going to be back to himself in no time at all. Just gotta wait for him to wake up from the anesthesia.”
I smile. I know Driller told Ransom not to do anything to Annabella before we got back, but I also heard his threat about what would happen if Stoney didn’t pull through, and I couldn’t blame him. Stoney is the president to these guys. He’s like a second father to them. Even though his health is failing, that doesn’t mean anybody has the right to take his life from him.
Even though he spent the afternoon trying to murder me.
Even though him and my father spent their entire lives trying to keep me safe.
It makes the hair on my arm stand up.
“Okay, this…” the nurse says as she charges into the room, waving her hands at the crowd that’s formed. “I did not approve this.”
“What’s wrong, lady?” Decker asks. “Did your thirty seconds with Chubs leave you a little less than satisfied? I bet old Red Eye here can at least double your pleasure.”
“Fuck off,” Red Eye says, punching him in the shoulder. “You’re just sick.”
“Everybody out,” Driller says. “Pearl’s had enough of all your bullshit today, anyway.”
The nurse bows her head in thanks as the room clears out.
“I’m gonna step out for a minute, too,” he says. “I promise, I’ll be right back. I’m not going anywhere.”
I don’t like the thought of him leaving, but I blow him a kiss and watch him walk out the door. I feel like as it closes behind him he’s taking a little bit of my heart with
him, and I can’t decide if that’s a good feeling or a bad feeling. I know with everything that happened today the club is probably under a lot of stress. I know his men need him more than I need him to stand here and watch me get bandaged up. I miss him and he’s not even gone. At least not gone gone.
“You sure you’re alright?” The nurse grabs some swabs and starts dabbing at the scrapes on my arm and I flinch.
I nod and close my eyes, trying to envision a scenario where everything is going to be okay.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Driller:
I figured I’d let Pearl have a little quiet to get herself patched up. Even though I don’t want to leave her side ever again, I do need to make sure everything is alright on the home front. I know under any other circumstance what we’d be doing with a bitch like Annabella, but I can’t let that happen. Not just yet.
I need to let her decide for herself.
Most of my brothers are sitting in the family area waiting for Stoney’s doctor to come out and tell us he’s awake. Ransom and the prospects are back at the house cleaning up and apparently babysitting the little terrorist.
My dad’s on his fifth cup of coffee, not even letting it cool down as he sucks it down. With each passing moment, he looks more exhausted. Looks older. None of us have much to say, even though all of us have a million things we want to say. Million things we need to say.
My aunt Anita appears in the doorway, and she looks like somebody squeezed all the life out of her. Normally such a pretty woman, today she looks gray. She looks like her scrubs are swallowing her frame whole, and that she’d disappear into a pile of clothes on the floor if she got the chance. She wasn’t back with Stoney when he had his surgery, but they let her in the recovery room.
We all look up at her, waiting for her to speak. Waiting for her to give us the good news.
Instead, she bursts into tears, whooping into her hands. I run over and catch her before she can fall all the way to the ground.