The guy who had his slashed hand wrapped in a bloody cloth pulled out his phone. He lifted his mask to reveal just his chin and mouth. He pressed in a number. He stared at me through the eye holes as he spoke to whoever answered. “Yeah, we’re just waiting for your word. What are we doing with this piece of shit? We’ve got things to do. The deal was for four hours of our time. We’re about ready to clock out, and one of us needs some stitches.”
I heard Gamble’s voice come through the phone but couldn’t make out his words.
The guy listened and nodded as if he could be seen through his phone. “You’ll take care of it? Because we’re not in the trash disposal business.” He grinned at me from beneath the ski mask. “Oh, and if there is any fucking backlash from that outlaw club, then we’re directing them straight to you.” He hung up and pulled out his gun. He walked toward me and yanked off his mask. “Guess I don’t need to wear this anymore since you’ll be dead before we leave here.”
“Fuuuck,” I said. “Dude, have you looked at yourself in the mirror? You seriously should consider wearing that thing permanently.”
He slammed my shoulder with his fist. I heard the shoulder blade crack. Of course, broken bones didn’t matter when I was bound for a shallow grave in the middle of nowhere.
“You can point the club toward Gamble, but you’ll be going down with him. Bedlam won’t rest until you’re all dead. Guess that’s why I’m still smiling. Cuz I know you’re all fucked too.”
“I don’t want to listen to this fucker anymore. Just shoot him,” the one with the sliced hand barked.
The guy lifted his gun. I shut my eyes. It wasn’t the first time I’d faced death, but that didn’t make it any easier. Loud voices above stairs rolled down into the dank cellar. The door cracked off its hinges.
I opened my eyes. My focus was blurry and turning my body took effort, but I recognized the black boots coming down the stairs. Gunshots echoed in the windowless room as Jacko and Reed came flying down the steps with their tempers and their Glocks on fire. The guy next to me with the bleeding hand dropped to his knees as a bullet pierced his leg. It seemed it just wasn’t his day. His head was close enough that even though everything hurt like shit, I managed to stand erect long enough to kick him in the face. He flew back into a water heater and bounced to the ground, writhing in pain.
Reed was wearing his raging bull face as he grabbed the guy whose gun had been pointed at my head. They’d stormed the cellar so fast, the guy hadn’t had time to react. Reed yelled like a madman as he grabbed the man and rammed him into the adjacent wall.
Jacko was doing his Psycho meets Jack the Ripper number on the guy wearing a fitting zombie mask. “You want to be a fucking zombie?” Spittle flew from Jacko’s mouth as he rushed at the guy. The man outweighed Jacko by a good forty pounds but then a cow outweighed a piranha by a good two thousand pounds, and the piranha still always came out on top. I’d never seen Jacko lose a fight when he was pissed. And he was fucking pissed.
He yanked the mask off the guy and shredded the thick rubber like paper. The guy’s eyes rounded as Jacko’s fist plowed into his face. Blood squirted like water from a sprinkler head. Two more solid punches, and the guy went limp in Jacko’s grasp. He tossed him down.
“Cut these ropes, Jacko,” I said.
Reed held the fourth remaining guy at gunpoint as Jacko sawed through the ropes. “How did you guys find me?” I rubbed some feeling back into my wrists.
Jacko motioned to the top of the stairs.
I peered up to the top. Roxie came flying down the wooden steps in tears. She flew into my arms. I groaned in pain. She pulled back. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
I wrapped my arms around her. “Nope, never felt better in my life.”
Reed brought the butt of his pistol down on the last guy’s head. He dropped over like a felled tree. “Looks like our work is done. Let’s get the hell out of here before that fool Gamble shows up.”
I grabbed my cut, shirt and gun. I pulled on the cut and we headed up the stairs, a task that was harder than I’d expected with broken ribs. Roxie led us to a back exit. There weren’t a lot of people in the front of the small club, but they had to have heard the gunshots. We could let Gamble explain the four bloodied people down in the basement.
chapter 32
Roxie
Jericho refused to leave his bike behind, and he’d insisted that he didn’t need a hospital. I stayed back in my car as the three Bedlam bikers, looking every bit as badass as they’d just proven to be, rode along the curved road to the cabin. I pulled off to the pharmacy and ran in to pick up some things that Jericho would need. Everything I knew about first aid had come from my short stint as a summer camp counselor right after high school. He’d mentioned that I needed to get superglue for the cut on his jaw. I thought it was a strange request but we’d only learned how to care for bee stings and sunburns at summer camp.
I hadn’t heard from Trace, and I wondered what he was doing. I couldn’t believe how far he’d gone with this. I’d always known he was scheming and had little or no conscience about hurting people, but I hadn’t expected it to get this ugly. It was no longer about wanting me. This was about controlling something he’d lost command of. I still hadn’t seen what was on the flash drive, but now there was nothing to turn this back. I would never be back in his clutches again. I’d already tried to plan out how I would take in Nancy and Easton while Sean served his sentence. It was heartbreaking to think about, and the whole thing made me sick to my stomach, but it seemed that Sean was going to have to face the consequences of his actions.
Jericho was stretched back on the couch with his eyes closed. Jacko was holding ice on Jericho’s bruised ribs when I walked inside.
“How is he doing?” I asked.
“Is that my extremely hot nurse?” Jericho muttered. He turned his face toward Jacko. “No offense, dude, but I want her to take care of me.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jacko stood, but Jericho reached over and grabbed his arm. “Jacko—” he raised his fist for a bump. “Remind me never to fight on the opposite side of you.”
“Damn right,” Jacko said.
Reed came out of the kitchen with a bottle of whiskey. He handed it down to Jericho. He struggled to sit up and took several gulps. I winced as he swigged whiskey straight from the bottle, especially considering the cuts he had on his mouth. Cuts that he seemed to remember after he pulled the bottle from his mouth.
“Fuck that stings.”
“Hey, killing two birds,” Reed said. “Numbs the pain and kills those nasty bacteria.”
Jericho handed the bottle back to Reed and leaned against the couch pillow. “Nurse, I need you,” he said.
I put the bag of first aid supplies on the coffee table and sat next to it. I hadn’t realized my hands were shaking until I picked up the ice and lowered it to the bruises that were spread across most of his chest. Tears stung my eyes. It was all hitting me at once. They’d hurt Jericho badly, and he’d come so close to dying. And now, I’d have to face Sean and let him know that he was going to be arrested for murder.
Jericho’s long, dark lashes fluttered open. He looked over at me. “Hey, nurses are supposed to keep a stiff upper lip. Tears might upset the patient.”
I smiled through the tears.
He placed a hand on my thigh. “It’s all right. We all made it through, and maybe we can still think of a way to help your brother.”
“The flash drive,” I blurted. “I forgot I still have it. I need to get to a computer. That weird phone conversation with the banker, that was to get me into Trace’s safe deposit box. He had a flash drive inside. I think it might be the security video.”
Reed and Jacko shot puzzled looks at each other.
“You guys want to cut us in on this topic,” Reed said.
“Trace has been blackmailing me with a security video that he claims shows my brother in a drunken fight where he kills a man. That’s why I’ve been with hi
m all this time. I’ve been trying to keep my brother out of jail. Only I think I might have gotten my hands on the video. So much crazy stuff has happened, I haven’t had time to look at it.”
Jericho lifted his hand and pointed at me. “Sneaky and beautiful— I like that.” He winced as his arm lowered. “Think I need more of that whiskey.”
“Maybe you should wrap those ribs first,” Reed suggested.
“Maybe, but I’m going to call Doctor Evie first. She’ll tell us how to do it.”
“Oh yeah,” Jacko said. “I forgot Angel was studying to be a doctor. Man, I’d love to play doctor with that little slice of—” Jacko stopped when he saw the look on Jericho’s face.
“Sorry, Richo. Yes, call the doctor.”
Jericho reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Hey, Doc, need some advice on how to wrap broken ribs. I’m going to put you on speakerphone because my very cute nurse is sitting here listening. No, not Jacko. Why the hell would I call Jacko cute?” He switched it to speaker and a girl’s voice came through.
“You’ll get my free medical advice as soon as you answer some questions,” the girl said.
“Hey, Angel,” Reed called.
“Reed? Hi, sweetie. How are you?”
“Eh, you know same ole thing,” Reed answered.
“Uh, broken ribs, Evie, remember?” Jericho interrupted. “Focus, Doc.”
“Right. How did you break your ribs?” she asked.
“I coughed too hard. How the hell do you think?”
“Ooh, I see we’re a little cranky from the pain as well. You might swig down some whiskey and aspirin,” Angel suggested.
“Already did that. Don’t tell me that’s what you’re learning in med school.”
“I’m still earning my pre-med degree, Richo. Med school is a few years off. O.K. who am I directing this information to?”
Jericho paused. “You’re going be talking to Roxie.”
“Roxie?” she asked.
“That’s me,” I said. “Hello.”
“Hi.”
Jericho propped himself up on his elbow and held out his phone. “Evie, now don’t go batshit crazy about this, but I’ve met someone.”
A loud excited scream came through the phone.
Jericho looked at Reed. “Glad I didn’t have that thing against my ear.”
“Roxie! Hi! We have so much to talk about,” Angel said excitedly through the phone. She screamed again.
“Uh, Doc,” Jericho said, “I’m in pain remember?”
“When do I get to meet her?” Angel asked. “Oh my gosh, I can’t wait to talk to her. So much stuff to tell her.”
“Great,” Jericho muttered.
“All right,” Angel said with a deep breath. “The common wisdom now is not to wrap the ribs. It might harm your lungs. Just keep a lot of ice on them, take aspirin and rest. Don’t move around a lot.”
“Yeah, that won’t be a problem.”
“And stay out of fights so you don’t get them broken in the first place,” she added.
“Yes, Ma. Gotta go, I’ll call you later.” It was obvious he had a deep connection with Angel, or Evie as he called her. He hung up.
Jericho relaxed back on the couch, and I placed the ice on his ribs.
He sucked in a short breath. It looked painful. “Wish that damn ice wasn’t so cold.”
“Sorry, we were out of hot ice,” Reed said.
Jericho looked up at my face. He seemed to know what I was thinking. We’d made it out alive, but none of this was over yet. “I can keep the ice here. Do you have a place where you can look at the flash drive tonight? Don’t go anywhere that you might run into Gamble.”
“I’ll text Pepper to make sure he’s not at Candy Strippers. He rarely goes there. And who knows what he’s dealing with at Happy’s. You brawny Bedlam boys left a pretty big mess behind.”
“Brawny Bedlam boys,” Jacko repeated. “I like that. Think I’ll get it tattooed on my ass.”
***
Pepper looked up from behind the bar counter as I walked through. She quickly poured the drink she was working on and followed me into the office. I flicked the mouse to start my computer.
Pepper stopped in the doorway. “What the heck is going on? Trace called here looking for you.”
My face shot up. Just the sound of his name sent a tremor of fear through me.
“Don’t worry. I told him you weren’t here. He sounded— different.”
“Some stuff has happened, Pepper. I can’t really talk about it now. Besides, the less you know the safer you are.” She opened her mouth to speak, but I stopped her with a hug. “I promise to tell you everything once the mess is sorted out. Just pretend like everything is normal when you see Trace.”
“Now you’ve really got me worried.”
I hugged her once more. She went back to the bar, and I shut the office door. My hands, it seemed, hadn’t stopped trembling all day. It made the task of putting a flash drive into a small slot that much harder. My head was swirling with the unbelievable events of the day. Now I faced something that was so depressing, I had a hard time wrapping my mind around it. And at the center of all my despair was poor, wonderful little Easton. I would be there, of course, to take care of him and his mother, but it would devastate him to lose the daddy he loved. The little guy was going to have enough stuff to deal with in life without having to grow up without Sean.
I opened the drive. At first it was blank. My mind dashed wildly about trying to guess what might be on it. If it wasn’t the security tape, then I’d have to start figuring out how to get a decent lawyer for Sean. My brother, drunk as he’d been, had almost no recollection of that grim night. Sometimes the man needed a severe tongue lashing.
A silent video, gray and fuzzy popped up on the monitor. It was the parking lot outside the Reno club. This was it. I had the evidence. My question was— did I have the only copy? I stared at a rather uneventful parking lot video for a few minutes. Then a figure emerged from beneath the security camera. It was Sean. His gate was unsteady as he made his way to the small brick wall that kept the trash bins hidden. He placed his hands on the wall and then proceeded to puke his guts out. I squinted my eyes shut to avoid seeing it, and as I did, another figure shot out from under the security camera. It took me a second to recognize that it was the man who’d been killed. He looked back toward the camera. Blood was smeared over his face and shirt. He had a terrified look on his face as if someone was chasing him. That’s when two more figures appeared behind him. They were wearing motorcycle cuts with skeleton hands. It was the Bent for Hell patch. My brother had finally stopped throwing up. He wiped his face with the back of his hand just as the video went black.
I tapped the mouse frantically, and the feed started again. Sean had disappeared. The Bent for Hell guy, the one who I remembered because of his snow white hair, was shoving the bloodied man. He stumbled over the cement parking rail and fell back hard. The two bikers stared down at him and kicked his feet a couple of times. There was no response. He was dead. My brother was nowhere in sight.
The rush of emotion that was pulsing through me was indescribable. Sean hadn’t killed the man, and for that, I was elated. But Trace had used his lie to keep me in his bed for a year, a year of my life had been wasted because of his treachery. I stared back at the computer. Sean came out from behind the trash bin wall. He shuffled over to the man and knelt down next to him just as headlights lit up the parking lot. And that was where the tape went black, the tape that cleared my brother of any wrong doing and showed how the man had died. It had been a tragic accident, an accident caused by the Bent for Hell members.
Rather than wait for the bastard to try and contact me, I decided it was time for me to call him.
There was no hello. “Where the hell are you?” he asked.
“I’m around. I just wanted you to know that I have your priceless security video.”
A heated silence came through the phone. “The fuck y
ou do. It’s in a place you can’t get to.”
“You mean your safe deposit box?”
“You scheming little bitch. You had no right—”
“No, you listen to me, asshole. All this time I’ve been doing your bidding, living this pretend awful existence as your girlfriend all based on a fucking lie. Sean had nothing to do with that man’s death. You made the whole damn thing up because it was the only way to get me into your bed. Which, by the way, was the worst part of the whole damn fake life. You’re pathetic in the sack.”
There was no response. Then I heard noise coming through the phone that seemed to be echoing what I was hearing outside the office door.
“You know those funny movie scenes, sweetheart, where two people are talking and it turns out they are just on opposite sides of a wall?”
I hung up and stumbled over to the computer. I yanked out the flash drive and stuck it down my bra.
Pepper flung open the office door. Her face was pale, and she was breathing hard. “Trace just walked in.” Pepper turned and blocked the door to the office. “Roxie doesn’t want to see you right now,” she said sharply.
I could see Trace as he reached the door. He grabbed Pepper’s shoulder and tried to push her out of the way. In a swirl of movement that was so smooth and fast I hardly caught the various parts to it, Pepper had spun around, grabbed Trace’s arm and thrown him over her back and shoulder. His body slammed the ground. He cried out in pain.
I ran and hopped clear of him and the office.
“You bitch, you’re fired,” Trace grunted to Pepper.
She pulled off her apron and threw it in his face. The evening crowd was sparse. Tonight, they got a little bonus act to go along with the strippers on the poles.
Pepper took my hand, and we ran for the door.