Tank’s arm tightens around my shoulder, faithfully supporting me. A small gesture of what is real. He steps forward and I move with him, walking the property. I now just notice that Eli is skipping next to us as we walk together, up the old dirt road between the two buildings, up the mountain. “He is a picture of what being carefree is, isn’t he?” Tank casually comments.
Eli runs ahead, chasing a few birds off the road that fly away into the distance. I wish I could be him, or those birds. To live so free that my heart is as light as an innocent child’s. “He really is, Tank.”
“Tami,” Tank looks ahead while walking, keeping his eyes zeroed in on Eli. “Life is hard, and we can’t even keep our own kids from the pain they are about to feel. Their lives will change, but we will always guide and protect them the best that we can. We can’t protect them from everything though.” It’s up to them to choose their own path. Hopefully, with the guidance we provide, they’ll choose wisely. In the end, it’s up to them and sometimes pain you’re meant to endure is inevitable.
I try to analyze the meaning of his words before asking, “Do you feel bad for what happened to Solo?” If a piece of him feels responsible for what happened to his brother.
“Every day, every second of the day. I feel like I failed you both. If I was here, then he would be alive. I would have my little brother and you would be happy. If only, lil’ T, we would and could do it all.”
“You didn’t fail me or Solo, Tank.” Tears threaten to fall once again, but I blink them away. “He chose to sacrifice himself. I was there and I watched him do it.”
“I know that. But our hearts don’t listen to reason either, do they?” Tank’s knowing eyes peer down at me because, no, I haven't listened to reason for a long time. My heart has been broken and won't heal. I can’t accept the truth and I refuse to think about it.
“No, they don’t listen at all. My pain holds me in the past. I feel haunted by Solo and his memory. What scares me most is I can’t find myself without him. I leaned on him so much, he was more than my man, he was my friend.” He taught me how to be strong for myself and I haven’t been living up to that. In a way, I feel like I’m failing him as well.
Tank’s voice is carefree and light as he starts reminiscing. “You know, when I sponsored him into the club, he was always the first one at the clubhouse and the last one to leave. He worked harder than the rest of us. He did party too, but not like the rest of us. Solo had balance in his life at such a young age that most don’t and never do.” He continues to tell me stories of the early days when he and Pawn joined the club.
About a mile up the road, I ask, “Why do you think it took him so long to approach me?” A question I’ve been craving the answer to for so long, but only feel brave enough to voice today. Because for some insane reason, I doubted he truly loved me.
This time it is Tank that thinks about my words before answering. “It was a necessity for him to wait, lil’ T. For one, you were really young when you came to us. You both had a lot going on. He also had a lot to lose going after you, the club and his best friend. There came a point too, when he had to decide if you were his everything and when was the right time to go for it.”
Sacrifice. That is the word that resonates with me. It circles the air around us and the truth of it all. Solo sacrificed not only in the beginning but also in the end. He paid the ultimate price with his life so the rest of us can live. That’s who he was. “I wish all the time, that I had more time with him. It is my only regret.” Did he just want to rescue me, or did he love me? I don’t know if I’ll get those answers now or ever.
Tank nods his head, “Me too, T, me too.” He takes a long inhale then releases it. “That’s the thing. We sometimes have a long road ahead of us. And some roads are shorter than others.”
Just then, Eli comes running over to Tank and asks to be picked up. Tank lifts him, holding him effortlessly. “We never know where the road will take us. We have to stay open into believing in our paths and our choices. Don’t look back, Tami. There ain’t nothing there for you. We have to keep looking forward.”
I know that Tank is right and, someday, I hope to get there. I don’t know if I can today, tomorrow or next month. But, someday, I will feel like the old me, or a better version of who I am now. The thought stuns me. I now see that I’ve been looking back, but that girl is long gone. Somehow, someway, I need to figure out who I am today. Cash deserves a happy childhood and good memories. He needs the best of the woman and mom I can be. Most of all, I want to be that.
Eventually, we turn back around after our long walk together. Just as we reach the back door, he has one more thing to tell me. “Hey, T, just hang in there okay? Keep pushing yourself every day to get better. We’ll beat this and grow stronger as a family. Nothing will ever touch that.”
I nod, “Yeah, someday I will wake up and this won’t hurt so much.” If only I could trust the words. Find a way to be in this world without the consistent reminder that I may be alone for the rest of my life.
Tank
After leaving Tami at the bar, I dropped Eli off with Emilia, Cuervo’s wife, and rode over to the Clubhouse. Blade texted he had information and wanted us there ASAP. Swear to fuck everything is ASAP and it better be. These fuckers are always so fuckin’ dramatic with shit sometimes. Cuervo jumps on his bike and is riding behind me on the way there. Funny how that old fucker can’t leave my side now. Who can blame him, really?
We park our bikes and meet everyone inside, ready to start church. After the rundown of the usual business, we get to the why we are really here. The Prez’s face turns cold.
“Our informant in prison told us that Pawn has been getting the shit kicked out of him. First, it was just the normal territory shit between inmates. There are a lot of allies of the old Prez who are locked up and looking for a little payback. Nothing that Pawn couldn’t handle. But the guards have been harassing him.”
Axl looks up from the floor to add to the story, “The guards are targeting him because of that cop who died trying to trap us before. They are trying to beat a confession out of him, hoping to get a name of who killed their own.” This is bad for him. He has no real cover in that place. My skin crawls with anxiety and anger fills the space that is left.
The room falls silent before Blade finishes, “Pawn’s keeping all of this to himself, which means he doesn’t feel safe enough to get us the information. Not much we can do about his position in there. I put a call in to Stryker to see what we can do to help him. Until then, we keep a watch on those guards. Spider is digging up what he can. Until we figure out a way to help him, everyone keep your shit together. We don’t need any distractions until this is dealt with.”
An idea comes to me and, if this is what I have to do, I will do it, for my brother. I may just end up next to him in a cell. Or, I will come out looking like a hero. I’m betting on the latter. Popping up from my chair I get to work. It’s past time to get ahead of this and I’m just crazy enough to make my plan work.
Chapter 4
Pawn
It’s been months of exhaustion, months of constantly fighting these fuckers off in here. It’s no wonder the prisoners are more fucked up coming out of these rehabilitation facilities than they were before. Inside, you are locked up with a bunch of criminals with a direct line of hardcore and dangerous contacts.
Because of my behavior, they have revoked all my visitation rights. I haven’t spoken with anyone from the outside in a few months. That’s making me feel edgy and isolated from the world.
In a way, it has helped. I can push away the memories and live in the “now”, because looking forward fucks with my head. I’ve managed to make a few friends in here that I know have my back and I have theirs. That’s how we survive, by forming alliances for protection. Time still drags on in slow motion and it feels like nothing ever changes with each passing day.
The weight bench is finally free, and I take my turn to lift weights while I can. From the extra
exercise, I have built a stronger body than I have ever had before. Now, I have gained more weight and muscle than the guards that have been after me.
Big G, a guy I made allies with, gives me a chin lift, signaling that he’ll take my back and also spot me while I lift. After adjusting the weights, I lie down and start my reps, maxing out my limit for the day. I lift as much as I can for as many reps as I can. My muscles burn with each lift and I welcome the pain as I feel myself growing stronger. Exercising has helped to deal with the stress, making me feel more normal and not like such a caged animal.
Still, I can’t do anything about the occasional beatdowns, however, with every blow received, I vow to repay them all back in the end. That’s all my life is, an endless stream of violence, anger and revenge.
I suddenly get a small dose of hope as Loco, my cell mate, walks past me, quickly murmuring in my direction, “Prez knows.” That’s all I need to hear. I can’t do shit about what happens in here, but I do rely on my club to do what they can until I’m out of here.
I haven’t been able to get a word out to my MC about what’s been going on, but it looks like Loco has been in contact with them. How, I have no idea. I have completely underestimated my roommate and who this man really is.
I watch him as he walks around the outside of the yard and stops at his usual corner where he lights up a smoke, taking in deep inhales while keeping his eyes on everyone. He doesn’t normally keep much company, and everyone seems to have an understanding when it comes to him that goes unsaid.
When I stand up from the weight bench, Big G drops down in my place for me to spot him while he does his reps. I keep my eye on everyone around us and especially Loco.
“G, who is Loco, on the outside?” I question while he pumps the maxed-out weight bar several times. He heaves ten more reps before his arms starts shaking and can barely lift the bar up to set it back. He sits up and turns sideways to face me, “Why are you asking, white boy?”
“He’s got a lot of pull around here. Just don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, is all.” That’s a lie, I need to know who Loco is.
Big G eyes me curiously and his head tilts sideways but bargains anyway, “I want a few packs of smokes and Snickers for this kind of information, from commissary.”
“I can cover it next Friday.” I stand with my arms crossed and wait. It’s a lie. I could cover the tradeoff today, I just don’t want these greedy fuckers to take advantage of me, seeing me turn over easily at every demand.
He stands and the almost seven-foot-tall giant rounds the bench with a serious gleam crossing his face. “He ain’t nobody on the outside. He’s spent his entire life in lock up and made something of himself from his time and contacts in prison.”
“What kind of contacts?” This is the first time I’ve heard anything about Loco. Is his reach that big?
“He controls all the prisons in Nevada and most of California. The bosses call him to get the shit dealt with when they it need done. Fucker’s made more money selling drugs from the inside than out on the street.” Big G leans in, “Don’t make a debt with Loco that you can’t pay, or those guards that have been giving you problems will seem like a first date compared to the shit he can have done to you.”
“I hear you, G.” His eyebrows raise in doubt and he gets back to lifting his weights, ignoring me for the rest of our yard time.
I pick up the dumbbells and start curling while watching the rest of the yard and some guys who are playing basketball. Not too far along into my curls, the same guard that usually is in the visitation room walks the outside of the fence. He stops close to Loco with his back to him. Loco lights a new cigarette and turns his head sideways, holding the smoke between his thumb and middle finger before blowing it out.
If you weren’t looking for it, you wouldn’t have seen it, that he’s talking to the guard. A few more words are said, and the guard moves on, but Loco stays put, stomping out his smoke.
The dots start connecting. Could he be communicating through the guard and feeding the MC information that I can’t? God, I can only hope.
I continue working through my usual routine and concentrate on my task, too afraid to hold onto those possibilities too much. I need to stay focused on staying alive.
“Move, Anderson.” One of the old bastards, that supported the club before Battle Born took over the Reno chapter, threatens behind me.
Slowly, I set the weight down and turn to face the cocky bastards. The sick asshole in the middle holds the pictures of Cash and Tami together. He slams the photos to my chest, pushing me back with the force of it. Rage consumes my thoughts when I peel the photos from my chest and see the jizz coated over them.
“Fine bitch you got at home.” He grabs his dick and moans. The assholes that flank him laugh along with him.
Hatred pours from my thoughts, wanting nothing more than to beat him until he doesn’t breathe anymore. But, I know that as soon as I attempt anything, the little punk ass guards lurking in the yard will have my balls tied up in court, with more time added to my sentence. My teeth grind together, halting the words I want to say, I swallow. My hands shake at my sides from the blood that pumps through my veins with psychotic wishes to end this fucker.
Peeling the ruined photos away, I concentrate on my haggard breaths and tuck the photos into my back pocket. I then wipe my hands off on my shirt and step back, then another, memorizing the motherfuckers’ faces, every detail, as I continue backing away. If I stay here, I will fail, and I can’t fall into their twisted mind games. Even though inside every pore in my body is roaring to free the maniac and unleash hell.
When I am out of their reach, I take off in an easy jog and head toward the gravel track where I start running laps. The pictures burn a hole into my soul, firing my need to move faster and harder. The need to burn off the adrenaline a necessity to survive another minute in this cage.
For miles, I run, thinking about the men I want to kill and can’t touch yet. I think about Tami, the woman I want more than anything to love and protect, and about the son I want to hold close to me. I can’t do a damn thing right now. Their faces torture me and play on repeat in my mind. Regret that I have had to push her away. What she must be going through because I left her. Alone. Her worst fear.
I broke a promise to her, to never leave her. She can’t hate me more than I already do. Disgust with myself and my choices circle around me constantly like vultures.
Then, there’s Solo. The memory of his face breaks me, and I sprint as I’m thinking about the friend I lost. He died protecting Tami and Kat’s kid. He was defending our MC, the brotherhood. We had promised each other that we would remain brothers and, the last time I saw him, I was a bitter asshole to him. The memory that comes back is one that I will always regret.
“Hey, Pawn, how’s shit going on in here? You need anything?”
Solo strolls in from the doorway and meets me at the table. Jealously, the ugly bitch, overtakes any rational thoughts I may have had. Why? Because he always gets the shit he wants or needs. He has her and my kid while I’m doing time for Axl and his fucked-up mess.
That’s all I ever am, everyone’s fall out boy. It should make me feel better that my brother comes in once a week to check in with me, but instead, it is just pissing me off more. Every detail about their lives and his freedom. His fucking freedom.
“It’s been a fucking vacation,” I deadpan, seething out my hatred toward not only him but the world. My stomach grumbles from starving slowly in this hell hole. Those fucking guards keep taking away what minimal food there is. Usually, they have the cooks give me small amounts, or a fight breaks out where I am getting jumped in the cafeteria and then I get sent to my cell or solitary without food for twenty-four hours.
“Brother, we are trying, but you got to tell us what’s going on.” Solo’s concerned eyes try to hold mine, looking for answers. But I have none to give as a guard makes a pass between the tables. The threats have been made clear. If I talk, they
can make my stay worse. They know about Tami and Cash because Solo thinks he is doing me favors by talking about them, but now it’s made them a target. If I talk, she can get hurt.
Overwhelmed and stressed, I bite his head off and take my anger out on him. “Take your bullshit memories and stories and get the fuck home to your Ol’ Lady and kid. You don’t need me and I sure as fuck don’t need your happy fucking stories. Did you ever think how this shit would make me feel? Go the fuck home and don’t feel that you need to come visit me to make yourself feel better about everything. Fuck you and fuck her, too.”
Solo leans forward and growls under his breath, “You’re pissed off, fine. I can take your shit, Pawn, always have and always will. The minute you start saying shit about her or Cash is the day I’ll end it for you.”
A menacing cocky chuckle leaves my body, “You want to join me in here?”
“No, asshole, she is worth more than this place. I can wait for the right time and place. I warned you once, that’s the last.”
“By all means then, take your shit and go home to your perfect little family, Solo. Enjoy what was supposed to be mine, that you stole,” I grit out, my heart bleeding out with each word spit at him. Aiming to ruin anything I can for him.
Solo raps his knuckles on the table and leaves me with an icy stare, no sight of my friend in there, but the man willing to kill to defend and protect his family. The problem with my words is that I wish I believed them. But I don’t, this is all my fault. I blow out the air from my chest and deflate back into my chair as I’m watching him storm out without another look back.
Loving You Forever (Battle Born MC Book 7) Page 3