"Are you okay with all of this?"
"Yeah. It just took me a bit, but I’m on board now. This has to be done for Rocko. I hate that I'm not the one pulling the trigger."
"Why would you want to tarnish yourself like that?"
"I brought that monster close to Rocko and Shawna, and I'll never forgive myself." I sniffle.
"I'd never forgive myself, if you did pull that trigger. Mel, you're good like Chelsea. If you go down this road, you'll never be the same. You're doing everything to protect the people you love." I lunge into his arms, hugging him tight. "I know we're not the closest, but I'll try harder to fix that." He whispers into my hair.
"Now, let's go get me arrested." He laughs, as we walk down the semi-lit hallway.
"How is the hottie going to get arrested?" Mark asks.
"I'm going to do it in style with a rock through the glass window of a police car." I smile. "I know how to get arrested. Believe me, I've gotten enough guys off." Gamble starts to cough, as I giggle, and then call a driver to come and get me.
"Be careful." Gamble kisses me, and I smile.
"I will. Just please come get me. I don't want to be in jail any longer than I have to." He nods, as I get into the car that drives me to the police station. My mind is racing, and I hope like hell this works. Once we are there, I get out, thanking the man, and then look for a rock that is big enough to do some damage. As I walk towards the steps that lead inside, I decide to change where I'm going to throw the rock.
"Freeman, you worthless piece of shit! Come out here and face me like a man, or are you too busy getting your dick sucked by Bale?" I yell out at the top of my lungs, and I notice some of the police officers start walking towards the door. Here's my chance.
"Freeman!" I yell, chunking the rock into the window of the station, and I hear a lot of yelling, as men come running towards to me.
"You're under arrest." They begin to read me my Miranda rights, as they cuff me.
"Miss Monroe, what do you think you're doing?"
"You're a worthless piece of shit." I breathe on him, so he can smell the beer on me. I had a sip before leaving, so they think that I'm drunk.
"You’re going in the drunk tank. I can't believe a lawyer would do this."
"I'm not a lawyer, right now. I'm a grieving aunt, asshole." He mumbles something under his breath. "I have a right to a phone call, and I'd like to call my sister."
He walks me into his office, and I swallow hard, seeing Rocko's watch lying on his desk. He never took it off.
"What's the matter, Mel? You look like you've seen a ghost." He says, giving me an evil smile. Something about him is off, and it takes me a minute, but then I realize, we have the wrong guy! Holy shit! Freeman is the one who took Rocko.
"I need to make my phone call." I demand, trying to keep my voice from shaking with fear.
"We'll get to it eventually, but for now, you're going in the tank. There's no windows, and not one single person can hear you." He laughs, pushing me down a long hallway.
As we reach the cell, he uncuffs me and pushes me. "Get in."
I walk in, he closes the door, and then starts whistling "Take me out to the ballgame." I hear the door slam, and I pull out a phone from the inside of my bra. I added extra padding to cover it. Of course, they didn’t check, and that’s their mistake.
Once I no longer hear Freeman, I immediately hit dial on Gamble’s number.
Gamble
"Why haven't we heard from her?" Chelsea's voice seems to be filled with fear.
Suddenly, my cell starts to ring, "Hello."
"Gamble, listen to me. This is very important. It’s not Bale. It’s Freeman." I hear her whisper.
"What? Are you serious? How do you know?" She starts explaining to me about the watch and the whistling.
"Fuck!" I yell. "Be careful.”
"I can protect myself." I agree, hanging up with her, and proceed to tell the club what's going on.
"We need to call off Bale's killing."
"Why? He has to somehow be a part of this. He knows to many details" Patriot says.
"We bring him to the shed." Patriot gets on his phone and starts barking orders. I head outside, jump on my bike, and take off to the police station. When I get there, Freeman isn’t around, and I find out Mel has to spend the night in jail, because they put her in the drunk tank. At least, they let me go see her.
“I should take a picture for your office newsletter.” She’s lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
“Fuck you. Wait, what are you doing here?” She snaps.
“I tried to bail you out, but the drunk tank is a mandatory twenty-four hours.”
“Great. I better be out of here for Rocko’s funeral. Did you see Freeman?” She asks, standing up and walking over to the bars. She wraps her hands around them, and I place mine on top of hers. I feel a strong connection to her, even though I might not ever fit into her world.
“No, he’s gone. Do you need anything?”
“Just out of here, and please, keep an eye on Chelsea. Freeman is the killer, but he may try to kill Bale to pin it on the club or me.”
“You be careful in here. I don’t trust anyone.” I grab her hand, kissing her knuckles. Melissa takes her free hand and cups my cheek. I can’t resist, and I kiss her wrist. Off in the distance, I hear keys and the door starting to open “I better get going. I’ll come by in the morning to get you.”
“You can take her now, since there’s no alcohol indicated.” The officer says, unlocking the door.
“Do you have the paperwork for me to sign?” She asks confused. He nods, and we follow him out, but she keeps looking at me, wondering what is happening.
He leads us over to Freeman’s desk, and she starts looking over some papers. I check out his desk without bringing attention to myself, and I see a picture of him and Bale at a cabin. I realize I know exactly where it’s located. “Thank you.” She says, bringing me out of my thoughts, and we both head out to my bike.
“You’re going to have to get on my bike. I didn’t know you would be getting out.” I say, handing her a helmet.
“I don’t mind being on a bike. In fact, I have a Harley in my garage. I told you I didn’t want to ride because you were making me nervous.” She says, smirking at me, as she straps the helmet and straddles the bike. She wraps her arms around my waist, and once we pull out of the parking lot, I feel her thighs putting pressure on mine. Damn, I need her again.
When we pull into the clubhouse, I know I can’t let her go just yet. “Melissa,” I say, grabbing her hand. “Will you stay with me tonight?” She nods, climbing off my bike. We start heading inside, but I’m stopped by Patriot.
I turn to Mel, “I want you in my bed tonight, babe. In the top drawer of my dresser, are my t-shirts, so make yourself at home. I won’t be long.” I kiss her forehead, and then walk into the office, where Patriot and Mark are waiting.
“We’ve got Bale in the shed.” Mark tells me. “He keeps going on and on about Freeman.”
“I think I know where Freeman is. I saw a photograph of him and Bale together. I don’t know if they are friends or hell even lovers, but the cabin is on Lake Borden. I want Freeman for myself. Mark do you want to come with me?”
“Fuck yeah,” he responds.
“Patriot, are you taking care of Bale?” He nods, as I look at Mark, “Gather up a couple of guys and meet me outside.” I say, walking out of my office and head down to my room. I open the door and see Melissa, wearing my green t-shirt with her hair in a ponytail. Damn, she looks sexy as fuck right now.
“Hi. You have a good collection of books. Stephen King is a favorite of mine. You okay?”
“I need to step out for a bit, but I wanted you to know I’ll be back.” I walk over to the bed, climbing in beside her, and she curls into me. “Will you still be here, when I get back?”
“I’m not going anywhere.” She says, and I kiss her hard, letting her know what’s going to happen later.
“I have to get this done, so I can get back to you.”
“Be careful.” I kiss her nose, and then head outside.
Mark and a few of his members are waiting in the black van for me. We’re all wearing black, and we removed our cuts. We don’t take them off very much, but for this, it’s necessary. It’s about an hour-long drive to get to the lake, and we start making our way there.
Once we arrive, I notice Freeman isn’t here, but there are fresh tire marks in the yard, which lets me know he must have stepped out. We get to work on cutting the power, so we can sneak inside undetected. I’m sure Freeman will be back any minute, so it’s time to get this show on the road.
“I found the security set up. I’m going to shut everything down and wipe what’s already there, so nothing is recorded or can be traced back to us.” Mark tells me.
I walk around the house, checking out the place. There are pictures everywhere of who I assume is Freeman’s family. “Mark, check this out.” He walks over to where I’m standing, and I point out a picture. It’s of a rival motorcycle club. “No wonder the fucker is going after us. That guy right there is Text’s uncle. He didn’t want him to join The Brothers of Olympus, and he has hated us ever since. I wish Text were here doing this, but I know he needs to be with Chelsea.”
Lights shine from the long driveway, and we all move around and hide in the dark, waiting for Freeman. I hear him arguing on the phone to someone about finding Bale, and how he’s probably at the clubhouse. So, I send a quick text to Patriot, letting him know when he’s done with Bale, dump the body somewhere it can’t be found.
I’m in the hallway between the living room and bedroom, as Freeman walks into the kitchen, trying to turn on the light. He groans, and opens the fridge, grabbing out what looks like a beer and an apple. He turns his phone light on, searching for something in the drawers. Finally, he walks into the living room, sits down on the couch, and drinks his beer in the dark. I step forward into the living room, as he turns on the light to his phone again. Something twinkles in his right hand, and I realize it’s a sharp knife for the apple.
I stand behind him and quickly grab his wrist, using the pressure point to gain control. “Did you really think you could get away with killing an innocent child, and there wouldn’t be any consequences?”
“Bastard! When I get a hold of you, I’ll make you regret it.” Freeman says, struggling under my grasp.
“Enjoy hell, motherfucker.” I use his own hand to slice his neck, and then drop his wrist, as I walk around the chair, sitting on the coffee table. He has blood coming out of his neck, and he’s gurgling. He starts to wheeze, as I watch his eyes flicker from fear, to hatred, and finally, to acceptance that he is going to die.
Once he’s gone, I pull out my phone, seeing a picture of Rocko and Shawna, as my wallpaper. “Rest easy, pal. Justice has been served.”
I make sure to wipe my prints off the doorknob, as I exit the house last. Walking to the van, my hands shake. Freeman wasn’t my first kill, and he won’t be my last, but this one was personal. This bastard took the life of an innocent child, and one who meant more to me than my own life. The motherfucker will never hurt anyone else ever again.
I know our club will have bigger battles to face, but for now, justice has been served, and we can all rest easier.
About Jaime
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Taken to the Cleaner
By Ginger Ring
CHAPTER ONE
Stephanie
Stephanie Barclay never considered herself antisocial; she just didn’t like being around people. It was standing room only at the Genoa Java shop. Odd how a person can be surrounded by people and yet feel alone. She always got the same thing, a French vanilla cappuccino. The heat from the coffee seeped through the paper cup and warmed her fingers. It may be April, but the mornings were still cool. Her gaze landed on a pair of ghost white legs. Spring in Wisconsin—if it was above freezing, it was shorts and t-shirt weather.
“Why must you taunt me so? That must be why they call it Devil’s food. It’s so sinful.” Madison’s face was mere inches from the glass as she debated the chocolate layer cake, just like she did every day. They’d been coming here every morning for as long as she could remember. Madison had been her boss when she ran her mother’s bridal store, Bells and Bows. Now it was Stephanie who did most of the work.
“Just get it. You know you want it.” Stephanie shook her head and surveyed the long line behind them. No one would dare tell Madison to hurry. Everyone knew the reputation of her husband, Roman Caponelli, who was part of the Caponelli crime family. A shiver ran down her spine. In Madison’s eyes the man could do no wrong. Love is blind, as they say. Stephanie saw it as reckless and dangerous.
“Yes, I want it. I just don’t want the calories. I swear I put on five pounds of winter fat this year.” Her friend stood up and ordered her usual, a mocha latte with a shot of espresso. They were nothing if not predictable. Things had become comfortable—too comfortable. She’d been looking over her shoulder for so long. Now was not the time to be complacent or at ease. Life as she knew it could be gone in a moment. No one knew that better than her.
“I don’t think you have to worry. Roman would love you no matter what.” She bit back the urge to gag. They were so much in love it was sickening.
“I’ll get one tomorrow.” Madison reached over the counter to grab the cup that had Maddy written on it in black marker.
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “You’ll do the same thing. Lean over the counter, drool over it, fog up the glass, and then say no. Same thing, different day.” They maneuvered through the crowd holding their cups in the air.
“Everything all right, Steph?” Her friend placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Yeah, just busy at the store. All those spring brides. It wears on me sometimes.” Most were nice, but some thought the sun rose and set on them. One time she received a three-page letter in the mail from a bride complaining that Stephanie had ruined her wedding and her entire life because the bridesmaid dress the woman wanted didn’t come in the right color. As if Stephanie had any connection to the dress company and could fix that.
“I remember the feeling. Being single didn’t help any. Don’t worry, your Prince Charming will show up when you least expect it.” They finally reached the exit but still had to wait as more locals drifted in. “It was right here that I met Roman. You were standing right next to me.” It was true. Madison had her nose to the counter ogling chocolate cake when Roman said something behind her. She’d spun around and thrown coffee on his fancy designer suit. It was love—or lust—at first sight. Only Stephanie had noticed him for what he was, a thug in Armani.
Madison saw the other side of the man. The one that loved her, protected her, and would do anything, including kill for her. Everyone had two sides to them. No one knew Stephanie’s other side. They just saw the timid bridal consultant. The side she allowed them to see. “Yes, how could I forget? Our lives haven’t been the same since.” She couldn’t fault the man, though. He loved Madison, had treated Stephanie fairly, and did what he could to keep crime out of the town. Whether his motives were selfish or sincere, she hadn’t decided yet.
When there was a break in the customers, Madison grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door. “I’m serious. You need to get laid.”
“Maddy!” Her mouth dropped open. “I do not. I don’t need anyone, and I prefer to be alone.”
“Everyone needs someone.” Her friend was the ultimate romantic. That was probably why the store had been so successful when she ran it. Madison had given up her dream of becoming a dress designer to stay here with Roman, but she still created beautiful wedding and special occasion gowns for family and friends.
“I don’t, and I don’t want to talk anymore about it. Okay?” Stephanie hit the key fob to unlock her vehicle. The air was muggy with the possibly of a spring storm.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Madison raised an eyebrow. “Anytime you need help, just let me know and I’ll be there.”
Guilt hit her in the gut. Madison was her best friend, her only friend, and she was treating her like crap this morning. She was also right. Being alone was nice, but at night she yearned for more. Stephanie had been brave for so long, where was her strong pair of shoulders to lean her head on when things got tough?
“Thanks. I’m sorry for being such a crab this morning. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Like I said, you need to get laid,” Madison teased and bumped her with her arm.
“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do.” What she wouldn’t do to have someone in her life, but that meant sharing secrets, and Stephanie wasn’t ready for that yet.
They set their mugs in the cup holders and buckled up. Madison turned up the radio. The weather man chatted about the above normal temps and humidity.
“I hope we get a storm. I love them.” Madison wiggled in her seat. She once ran out dancing in a rainstorm while Steph stayed inside. She’d never make it as a storm chaser, while Madison would probably barrel head first in the direction of a tornado. That was probably why she and Roman clicked.
At the exit of the parking lot, Stephanie looked both ways and stepped on the gas. At the last second, a motorcycle came out of nowhere. The biker looked right at her, and a chill ran down her spine. Was that—? Her foot hit the gas.
Crash!
“What the hell?” Madison braced both hands on the dash. “We hit someone.”
They both fled the car and gasped when they saw a motorcycle on its side and the rider on the ground.
“Oh my god, oh my god.” Stephanie waved her arms. How did this happen? Was he dead?
“Call an ambulance!” Madison screamed.
“I’m fine.” The biker sat up. Blood ran from one side of his head as he struggled to get to his feet. He had the deep voice of a man that smoked and drank more that anyone should. His eyes locked on Stephanie’s, and a lump froze in her throat. “You.” He pointed before he wobbled and slumped to the ground.
Twisted Tales of Mayhem Page 54