Drill frowned. He’d always been loyal to the club — but this wasn’t the club that he’d joined, and he wasn’t the recruit he once was. Just for starters, Timothy King would stab him in the back, first chance. It took Catfish’s boot on his neck to keep him in line — and even then, Tim would go out and raise havoc. There were others in the Wraiths that would follow him.
So why am I feeling loyal? And why am I feeling guilty for not feeling more loyal?
He thought about Catfish. They’d come up together, were the same age. He knew Catfish had the same issues, the same needs, when it came to having a family in the Wraiths. But Catfish had an even stronger drive. He wanted the Wraiths to be not only his family, but the most powerful club in Tennessee. Maybe in the Southeast, if it came down to it. While Drill had admired Catfish’s ambition, he was starting to wonder if, when it came down to it, Catfish would have his back if it wasn’t what Catfish deemed “what was best for the club.”
In short, Drill was worried that after sixteen years in the club, he’d somehow made a terrible mistake. And if, at age thirty-two, there was another way he could go.
He needed to talk about this. But there wasn’t anybody in the Wraiths he could open up to. His closest friend was probably Catfish, but he knew that Catfish would not allow dissent to be discussed, not without some serious repercussions.
Drill headed back to Green Valley, his mind whirring.
Who could he talk to?
Maddy. He needed to talk to her, anyway. Maybe he could talk to her about this.
Feeling determined, he headed toward the farm.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Thuy was sore and tired. She’d gotten up, and put out hay for the cattle — and that had been an adventure. At least Maddy had driven the side-by-side, even though it made Thuy anxious to see her hugely pregnant best friend do so. She supposed that Maddy was right, pregnant women had been farming for millennia, but she still worried.
Also, spreading the hay had been hard. She’d always been more of the cardio than weight training type, and it showed. She felt like a complete and utter wimp.
Then she’d spent her first full day at the library. The work there hadn’t been hard at all — mostly a lot of shelving and getting things checked out or checked in. The bright spots in her day had been interacting with the teens, and… well, she had to admit, it was talking and flirting with Drill. Which she knew, she knew, was stupid. Nothing was going to happen there.
Is it?
She sighed at herself in exasperation. It was ten o’clock at night. Maddy had gone to bed around nine. The pregnancy knocked her out. Thuy found herself staying up later and later, still getting used to everything. The farm. Tennessee. How her whole life had changed so drastically, and so abruptly.
In the night quiet, she heard the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle engine, and her heart picked up its tempo. She figured it was Drill. Who else would it be, this time of night?
She was wearing a pair of leggings and a beat-up, paint-stained Cal sweatshirt. She finger-combed her hair, then realized what she was doing and mentally berated herself.
Nothing is going to happen with this guy. Knock it off, you lunatic.
She stepped to the front door, opening it and peering out. Drill was heading towards the porch, looking nothing like the mischievous, flirty man she’d last seen in the library that afternoon. He looked sad, she realized. And her heart strained a little, as she felt the inexplicable need to relieve that burden somehow.
She opened the door wider. “Little late for a visit,” she commented.
“Not too late?” His blue eyes were concerned, but also hopeful.
“No. Although Maddy’s asleep.”
He grimaced. “I should’ve figured that.”
She still gestured him in. “What’s wrong?”
He looked at her in surprise as she shut the door behind him. “What makes you say that?”
“You look upset.”
“I do?” He frowned. “I… huh. I’ve got a lot on my mind. I didn’t realize it’d be that obvious.”
He looked lost. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and he shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other.
“Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll make some coffee?” Thuy offered.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to bother you.”
“Trust me. I’d tell you if you were,” Thuy said, with a small laugh that elicited a smile from the big man.
“You would, wouldn’t you?”
“Yup. I don’t suffer idiots if I don’t have to.” She wandered to the kitchen, and he followed her. She frowned. “Actually… I’m still getting used to this percolator thing. I’m more of a drip or pour-over girl, myself.”
“I got it.” He bustled around, quietly measuring out coffee and getting the thing going. It was funny, to see this shaved-head biker almost humming to himself as he went about such a small domestic chore. He plugged the old pot in, and it started gurgling.
She leaned against the counter, surveying him. “So. Want to talk about it? I’m a good listener.”
He sent her a half-grin that still looked sad. “I like you.”
“Well, I don’t know you,” she said, with a wink, “but I’m getting fond of you, myself.”
He let out a little chuckle. “That’s it though. You don’t know me.” He sighed, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. “I’m a one-percenter, like you said. I’ve done some bad shit in my time.”
You should probably send him away now, Thuy told herself. She’d cut herself off from criminal elements since she was a teen. When she’d gone off to college, she’d sworn she wouldn’t let that life touch her. But he was Maddy’s brother. She saw how much he cared about Maddy, even when he wasn’t supposed to.
In a way, he reminded her of her own brother. Although, honestly, her feelings for Drill were hardly brotherly.
Rather than dwell on what that could mean, she cleared her throat. “Is that what’s bothering you?”
“I went to the hospital tonight.”
She felt alarm jolt through her system. “What? Why? Are you all right?”
He sent her a look of surprise at her obvious concern. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” His tone was warmer, and his small smile was thoughtful. “I was visiting someone. Someone my club put in there.”
She froze. “Oh,” she said, in a small voice.
“I keep thinking, I could’ve stopped it.” He rubbed his hand over his face, then over the back of his head. “It never should’ve happened. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He let out a rough exhalation. “I thought I was doing the guy a favor, giving him more time on a loan he took out. Instead, they sent someone else who didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, who thought that reminding someone of a debt meant nearly killing him.”
“So you would… have beaten him less?”
“Jesus. I think that is what I was trying to say.” Drill grimaced. “Listen, I don’t usually have a problem with this. I never used to. I did what I was told to do. What the fuck is wrong with me?”
“That it’s bothering you now?” Thuy probed. “Or… that it didn’t bother you before?”
He looked at her, and his expression was pained. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice breaking as he shook his head. “Both. Maybe. I don’t know.”
She took his arm, tugging a little. He let her guide him into the small living room. She nudged him until he took a seat on the old, worn sofa.
“Okay. Take a few deep breaths, and let’s talk about this, okay?” She sat down next to him. “You’ve done some bad things in your life. Seriously shitty things, from the sounds of it.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
He took a deep breath. “Because that’s what I needed to do, for the club. I know, that doesn’t make it right, though. Not this ‘I was just following orders’ bullshit. I did that stuff.”
She nodded. “I know people who have done bad things,” she said slowly.
He snickered mirthlessly. “Yeah? Like what? Stealing library books?”
“Like murder.”
His laugh stopped midway, cutting off dead. “The fuck?”
She never talked about this. Never. She’d cut this part of her life out, for damned good reason. Not even Maddy was aware of how bad her past was. But Drill was looking so lost, so upset, and most of all, so hopeless about how he could change.
“My family,” she said, her words coming out choppy and hesitant, “was — is — part of a club, too.”
“That’s how you know about one-percenters,” Drill murmured.
“Yeah. That’s how I know.” Thuy swallowed hard. “So yeah, I’ve seen it. Drug running. Gun smuggling. Gambling, prostitution, the works. But this… particular group is known for their violence. You don’t cross this group. You don’t fuck with them. Not if you want to stay alive.”
Drill’s eyes widened. “Which group?”
She bit her lip. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t like to talk about it.” In fact, she’d love to change the conversation now. But she’d gone this far… “The point is, I’m not going to judge you for what you’ve done.”
He straightened up.
“That doesn’t mean I’m getting involved with someone who plans on continuing to do it,” she said firmly. “And if you keep on staying in this mess, that’s on you. It’s not enough to feel bad about it. You need to do something about it.”
He frowned, thoughtful. “It’s been a part of my life for so long, I don’t know any other way to be.”
“Bullshit.” Thuy turned to face him more fully. “You don’t know, or you don’t want to know?”
He turned, too, his gaze piercing. “This is new, okay? I didn’t use to think about this shit. I did what was required!”
“And now it’s bothering you, right? What’s required?” she pressed. Then she realized something. “You’ve never killed anyone, have you?”
She saw it, just the slightest glimpse of horror crossed his face. “No,” he said quickly. “But… I know of some guys. Who have.”
She nodded. “What if they ask that of you?” she asked quietly. “What would you do then?”
He mulled that over for long, quiet moments.
She got up, pouring two mugs of coffee. Then she walked back to the sofa. He took it, thanked her, took a sip. He still looked pensive.
“Even if I wanted to,” he said, in a low voice, “it’s not like it’s easy to get out. Once you’re in, you’re in.”
Thuy sipped at her coffee, then made a face and put it down on a magazine on the coffee table. “I know,” she said, and meant it.
He was quiet for a second, then put down his own cup. He propped his head up on one hand, surveying her.
“So,” he said, with a quiet plea. “How did you do it? How did you get out?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Thuy looked stricken by his question. Her dark eyes clouded, and she looked away, her knee bobbing rhythmically. She fidgeted in the seat.
He was about to change the topic, seeing how much it was upsetting her, when she finally bit her lip and blurted out, “I wasn’t really in, exactly. I mean, I saw lots of things, and covered up things — told the police my parents weren’t home, or that they had been home when they weren’t. It was just the way things were. They’d bring home people — or, um, bodies. My older brother…”
“You have a brother?” He didn’t know why that surprised him, but it did. If his father had been beating Maddy, or doing anything shady that put Maddy in danger, you bet your ass he would’ve gotten her out of there any way he could. So what the hell had her brother been doing?
“Yeah. Trung,” she said, and her eyes rimmed with tears. “He’d be about three years older. Anyway, Trung and I were just kids that saw stuff. Trung remembered a little about our grandparents. He’d heard that my dad’s parents lived in Westminster, down by Los Angeles, but when my Dad joined the club as a teen he left them behind. Or they kicked him out, cut them off. Maybe it was mutual — I don’t know. I’ve never met them.”
Drill felt both a pang of sorrow for her, and an unwelcome sense of connection with her father. “So your dad joined an MC.”
“Well, he started in an MC,” she said. “Then I think he specialized. Sort of ‘graduated.’ He was always smart, but never satisfied, you know?”
Drill didn’t know. He’d been dissatisfied with the club, but he got the feeling that wasn’t what Thuy was trying to say.
“My father started with drug dealers, but discovered he had a better niche: getting people to talk, or getting rid of people.”
Drill felt his stomach knot. Thuy had gone very, very pale, and her voice was thready.
“I saw some things…”
“You don’t have to talk about them,” he said quickly. She looked nauseous.
“Anyway, when I turned thirteen, I swore I was going to get out of the house. My brother had been initiated, and I’m pretty sure he killed someone. By that point, he was eager to join the life. I knew it wasn’t what I wanted. They were still letting me go to school. Honestly, they didn’t care if I went or not,” she admitted. “My brother had dropped out and they didn’t care. But I was determined to get out of our neighborhood and our family and our lifestyle, and go to college, and live a decent, ‘normal’ life.”
He had a bad feeling about this.
“When I turned sixteen, I had straight A’s in honors courses, I was in the California Junior Scholarship Federation, and I was chosen for the National Honor Society.” She had a small smile. “And that’s when my family started to expect me to pull my weight.”
“What did they want you to do?”
“My Mom was drinking pretty heavily by then. My dad and my brother were the ones that were really into the club. But I think… I think my dad wanted me to be closer to the organization. They would’ve found a place for me. As a party favor, if nothing else.”
Drill’s fists bunched. “Son of a bitch.”
“You’ve got the girls at your MC, too, I bet,” she said. “Ever think about where they came from?”
The thing was, he knew a lot of the girls, since they were all in school together back in the day. He knew a lot of them had no hope, no sense of ambition or drive to get out of the small town. They thought this was their ticket to a more exciting life.
It never occurred to him that he could, or should, talk them out of it. Guilt crept in on him.
“Anyway, I ran away at seventeen. My brother actually helped me,” she said. “We talked it over. He told my dad that if I wanted to be some snobby smart kid, then I ought to get the hell out and stop wasting their money and food. My dad bought it, but he did do one thing before I left.”
She took a deep breath. Then she got up, turning, and lifted her sweatshirt.
There, on the right side of her lower back, was a patch of skin, raised and rough. A burn mark. But in a pattern. Drill looked closer.
Then he jerked back. “Is that… a brand?”
She lowered the sweatshirt, nodded. “Recognize it?”
“Jesus Christ.” His mouth went dry. “That’s a rose and dagger, yeah?”
She nodded. “You know the group.”
“Every club knows the Red Dagger,” he said. “They’re a support club for some of the bigger clubs, doing shit even one-percenters don’t like doing. Wait a sec…” He goggled. “That crew that got wiped out in a mass killing in Tempe? That was your dad?”
She nodded. “I recognized it when I heard about it. I’d already started going to Berkeley by then.”
Holy shit.
Thuy didn’t just know about one-percenters. She was the daughter of one of the most vicious, lethal men that any biker was aware of. In Green Valley, the Wraiths were a pretty big deal, even after the Darrell/Razor stuff. But this? This was national stuff. These guys were infamous.
“Did
you ever find your grandparents?” he asked, wanting to change the topic.
“No. There are a lot of Nguyens in Westminster,” she said, with a rueful little laugh. “I wouldn’t even know where to start, I don’t know their first names. My dad refused to talk about them.”
There was a little pause.
“My dad gave me the brand to show that even though I wanted out, I’d never really be out. I don’t talk about it. I pretend it didn’t happen. And I’ll be damned if I let him ruin my life,” she said fiercely. “He’s part of my past, and I’m going to keep him there.”
He nodded, even though he knew how hard it was to pretend your past wasn’t there. His father hadn’t been nearly so brutal or cruel, and he’d tried to cut him out. But here he was, in his father’s farmhouse, thinking about his future.
“So how did you get to know my sister?” Drill asked.
This brought the first real smile of the night to Thuy’s face. “We were roomies, freshman year. Both of us on scholarship, even though hers was for sports and mine was for scholastics. She probably should’ve been with another softball player or something, but luck of the draw put us together. It turned out we both were closet Disney freaks, so that helped. I introduced her to video games. She introduced me to baking. It worked out.”
He wanted her to keep talking, to keep that smile bright. “And from there…?”
Thuy’s smile dimmed a little, but her eyes were curious. “Do you want to know why I’m here? Why I owe your sister so much?”
He nodded, eager.
“I lost my grants sophomore year,” she said. “I still had tuition covered, but everything else — housing, food, even books — was on me. I got a job at the library, but it wasn’t going to be enough to cover. I was terrified I was going to wind up on the street. Or worse — somehow wind up back with my family. I’d been couch surfing since junior year of high school, and I was running out of options. Maddy let me crash on her floor, and share her meal card. I ate a shit-ton of ramen for the next three years, but Maddy made sure I was never on the street. She took care of me.”
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