Dead souls mc complete s.., p.56
Dead Souls MC (Complete Series #1-5), page 56
My father picked me up early from school that day with tears running down his face.
It was part of the reason why I wanted to become a doctor at one point. I knew my mother had died in the hands of negligent doctors. They wanted to medicate her and drug her, then leave her alone for hours on end without anyone checking in on her. And I wanted to do something about that. About the broken system that had killed my mother.
But it wasn’t until I started going through my residency program that I understood the true reason behind why my mother died.
There was a man who came in with almost the exact same symptoms. A positive diagnosis for the flu as well as fluid buildup around his lungs. And the doctors administered the same thing: drugs for the flu symptoms and antibiotics for the fluid buildup. But this man had a rough pair of kidneys. He had issues filtering the drugs, which meant they had to back off on the dosage. Just like they had to do for my mother. They gave him space to rest and recuperate, just like they had to do for my mother.
But they couldn't up the dosage of his drugs to get him the help he needed, and the rest he required didn’t work.
I watched him die that night during my residency, and I said to him what I wished I could’ve said to my mother.
I learned that night that not everything was as it seemed. That sometimes, all doctors can do is make someone comfortable and hope their body does what they can’t. My mother had lived a hard life. Battled addictions with pills and alcohol until she met my father. That takes a toll on someone’s organs. On someone’s kidneys. And while all of the memories I had of my mother were positive and good, she wasn’t without her faults.
The doctors hadn’t killed her that day.
Her lifestyle had.
“Mommy! Look!”
I shook my head and looked across the dog park and watched as Gavin played on the doggie toys. He held his arms out and walked along the beam, trying to keep his balance as he went from one end to the other. The smile on his face brought a warmth to my heart, but I knew we would have to be getting home soon. It was getting dark, and soon the only thing that would be lighting our path were the lightning bugs of the town.
And I didn’t have my taser on me in case something happened while we were out.
“Come on, kiddo! Come here, Beau! Time to go back!”
“Awww, but Mom-”
“No ‘but’s. You need a shower and we all need dinner,” I said.
I clapped my hands and Beau came running. Gavin stalked up with the leash and we hooked Beau up before we all started back. I held my son’s hand as I looked down at him, watching how defeated he looked. I hated it when he pouted. It killed me inside. But the darkness was growing thick and we still had four blocks to walk back home.
Then, an all-too-familiar sound revved in the distance, perking up my ears and stopping me in my tracks.
“What’s that sound, Mommy?” Gavin asked.
The dull roar thundered throughout the small town as visions of Rock on his motorcycle came racing back.
“It’s a motorcycle,” I said.
“Those big kid bikes?” Gavin asked.
“Yes, sweet boy. Those big kid bikes.”
“Could I get one someday?”
I snickered and shook my head as I breathed in deeply through my nose. Of course, he would ask that question.
He was turning into his father more and more each day.
“When you’re older, we can talk about it. How does that sound?” I asked.
“Yeah! Mine’s gonna be black with green and yellow and red on it.”
“Green and yellow and red?” I asked. “That’s a lot of color.”
“Those are my favorite colors. It’s what I’m painting my room.”
“Oh, you’re painting your room now. When were you going to fill me in on this?”
“I just did,” he said with a smile.
The sentiment stopped me in my tracks. As the sounds of the motorcycles grew and the ground rumbled beneath our feet, my jaw hit the floor. And that sweet little memory came rushing back to my mind.
“Come on. I’ve got a surprise for you,” Rock said.
“Where are we going?” I asked through my giggles. “I’ve got stuff I have to do.”
“You can do it tomorrow,” he said. “Come on. Get behind me.”
“What if I want to be in front?”
“You know what happens when you sit on my lap, sweet girl,” he said.
“What if that’s what I want?” I asked as I slipped into his lap.
Rock revved his engine as he sped off down the road, forcing me to grip tightly onto him.
“I’ve got a place for us to spend the weekend out in the desert. Just you, me, the stars, and this beautiful body of yours,” he said.
“And when were you going to inform me that I would be gone for the weekend?” I asked.
“I just did.”
“Mommy?” Gavin asked.
I gripped his hand and walked faster as the sounds of the motorcycles became deafening. I shuffled them into the house as the lights turned down our road, and I locked the front door before I peered out my window. Gavin watched with me with wide eyes and a jaw that dropped to the floor. I studied the men riding by as more memories assaulted my mind.
Was it possible for English phrases to be a trait passed down to children?
Or was Gavin really that much like his father?
5
Rock
“Knock, knock, bitch,” I said.
“You really can’t come over to a person’s place and act normal, can you?” Brewer said as he opened Makenna’s front door.
“When the fuck have you ever considered me normal?” I asked.
I walked into Makenna’s home and began looking around.
“I forced her out the door to work and Ana’s at school,” he said.
“Good. Then we can talk about that fucking bomb you dropped on me at the hospital.”
“And you don’t have to edit yourself on my account,” Brewer said with a grin.
“Cut the bullshit,” I said. “How are you feeling?”
“Good right now. Just took my pills.”
“Yep. That’ll do it,” I said.
“I’ve taken up permanent residency on the couch. Come on.”
“You mean you and Makenna aren’t-?”
“Not yet. She doesn't want to confuse Ana and I don’t blame her. Plus, I get a massive television to fall asleep to,” he said.
“Versus lying next to a naked woman?” I asked. “You’ve always been the fucking weirdo of the two of us.”
“Whatever. Come on. We need to talk.”
I followed Brewer over to the couch, but it was more than just a couch. It was one of those fancy-ass pull-out beds that turned into a king-size fucking palace bed. There was no way in hell he was sleeping in that thing alone all the damn time and I wasn't about to crawl into bed with the man.
So, I took up space in a chair in the corner while Brewer laid back down.
“You good?” I asked.
“Oh yeah. I need to get me one of these,” Brewer said.
“You sound like an old man.”
“I feel like one. This shoulder shit’s no joke.”
“Trust me. Been shot twice. Not in the shoulder, but in the arms. Recuperation’s no damn joke. I’m glad she’s got you drugged and sleeping,” I said.
“Boring as hell though,” he said.
“Okay, so back to the hospital,” I said.
“How did church go?”
“You’re really going to put this off, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Because I’m monitoring my heart, asshole. I don’t want to go back into cardiac arrest when I tell you I’m pretty sure the rat is someone in our crew.”
“Didn’t we already fucking know that?”
“I think it’s Mick.”
I furrowed my brow as I leaned forward in the chair.
“You think it’s who?” I asked.
“Not only that, I think Mick was the one that tried to kill me in my own house,” Brewer said.
“You can’t be fucking serious. That man just stood up for your ass in church.”
“What?”
“Yeah. He was your prime defender when Diesel still wanted to go through with the damn plan. It was a whole big old fight. Everyone’s taking some cool down time. But the gist of church was that the plan is scrapped and Mick kept fucking repeating how you getting shot up should be a warning to all of us.”
“Because he did the fucking shooting up,” he said.
“Why do you think the rat is Mick?”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I think you’re drugged and still worked up from being attacked in your own fucking home. Anyone would be. Walk me through what happened.”
“You know those damn boots he always wears? Black with the fucking navy-blue laces?”
“Drives me insane to look at,” I said.
“Those same boots were in my house that day. The man was wearing a mask.”
“So that’s why you kept asking about the man in the mask.”
“Yeah. After I got out of the closet in my bedroom, I ran over and hunkered down behind my guest bed. I kept my eyes on the lookout by peering underneath the damn bed frame. And a pair of black boots with navy shoelaces came walking around the corner. The man had a fucking mask on, and when he shot at me he missed even though he was only fucking seven feet away from me. And you know Mick’s a shit shot.”
“But that doesn’t mean it was Mick. What you’re saying is serious. He’s a brother, Brewer.”
“Yeah. I know. Which was why it sent me into fucking cardiac arrest, Rock. He’s limping on his left leg. The same damn leg I shot up on that asshole before he managed to get out of my fucking house. Which I still don’t know how that happened.”
“Mick could be limping for any reason.”
“I shot that asshole in the left ankle and the left thigh. When Mick got up and left the hospital room before you came in, I caught a glimpse of his pant leg. He had a small dark splotch by his ankle and on his thigh. In the same places where I got him. Are you going to tell me all this shit’s coincidence?”
“Even if it isn’t, he’s a fucking brother, Brewer. And we have to tread lightly with this. Especially once we take it to Diesel”
“That asshole tried to kill me. I know it was Mick in my house that night. I’m not treading lightly on anything once I get my arm out of this damn sling,” he said through gritted teeth.
“And until you do, let me handle it,” I said. “This has to be handled delicately. It has to be dealt with, but not with the anger in your fucking eyes, man.”
Brewer drew in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Fuck. I was still trying to wrap my mind around what he’d told me in the first damn place. Was it possible the rat was Mick? Did he have those kinds of balls on him? I didn’t think he did. What Brewer was suggesting took a cunning spirit and a serious amount of planning and sneaking around. Mick was a pussy, though he had his moments. He was the clean-up guy. The numbers guy. The behind-the-scenes guy.
He didn’t barge into people’s homes with a want to shoot and fucking kill.
Did he?
“Brewer? You good?” I asked.
I watched his eyes flutter closed as he laid down onto the bed.
“Brewer. You’re not spinning out on me, are you?” I asked.
“Tired,” he said with a grunt.
I got up and placed my fingers to his carotid just to fucking make sure he didn’t need another damn ambulance. But when I found his heartbeat steady, a grin crossed my face.
“Then sleep, asshole. I’ll be back later to check on you.”
“Uh huh,” he said.
And the man was snoring before I locked the knob of the front door and closed it behind me.
I looked over at Brewer’s house and my blood began to pump faster. If Mick was the rat, then he had cleaned up whatever evidence of him had been in his home. Because Mick was our clean-up guy. Our go-to when shit needed to be fixed or bodies needed to be disposed of. Mick had a lot of shit on us to dump to people. He might not be pulling the damn trigger or formulating the plans, but he cleaned up our trails so no one could get anything back to us.
Which meant he’d cleaned up his shit while cleaning up Brewer’s house.
Fuck.
I struck up my bike and rode off. I needed to blow off some damn steam. I revved the engine of my motorcycle and sped through town, taking back roads through the place I knew weren’t heavily policed. Long, fast rides always calmed me down if the bars weren’t open yet. And with it being only four in the afternoon, there was no way in hell any of the bars I frequented were even thinking about opening. I raced down the roads, throttling it at ninety miles an hour. Wind whipped through my hair and dust kicked up, settling the trembling frustration in my muscles.
Brewer was convinced Mick was our rat.
And I didn’t have any reason not to believe him.
I whipped my bike around in the middle of the road and started back to my place. My dingy old apartment that pumped more electricity through it than the city power pump some fucking days. Cheap rent, very few windows, and just enough space for all my computer shit. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, feeling the rolling of the tires underneath my body. My bike was an extension of myself. Worn. Used. But still rode like a dream. Rough and ragged and not always appealing to the eye, but could beat the shit out of any other bike on the fucking road.
I’d fix that damn thing up until Hell itself swallowed me whole.
I opened my eyes and saw a car coming straight for me. My eyes bulged as I swerved out of the way, trying to avoid an oncoming collision. But I could’ve sworn that damn car followed me all the way to the edge of the fucking road. My tires began to wobble and I lost control of my steering. I laid on my horn as the car squealed its tires, finding its way back onto the road as my front tire hit a damn ditch.
It tossed me over the handlebars and sent my back careening into the inner edge of the ditch.
And then, darkness took me under.
6
Piper
“What was that noise?” I asked myself.
“Mommy, look!”
“What is it, Gavin?” I asked from the kitchen.
“There’s a bike on the sidewalk!”
I wiped my hands off onto a dish towel and slung it over my shoulder. Gavin wanted a bedtime snack before bed, and I couldn’t blame him. The walk alone plunged me into hunger, and he had been rolling around with Beau in the dog park as well. I walked over to the window he was looking out of and peered across the road. My childhood home sat on a mostly deserted road, with nothing but forestry and a ditch lining the other side. I squinted my eyes and tried to take a good hard look at what my son was talking about, but it wasn’t until a car slowly crept down the road that I saw it.
An overturned bike across the street from our house.
“Gavin, go sit at the kitchen table. I’ve got your snack ready,” I said.
“Can I have the bike?” he asked.
“No, honey. Now go eat. We have to get you cleaned up for bed,” I said. “And take Beau with you.”
“Come on, Beau,” he said.
“But don’t feed him!”
“Aww, but he’s hungry,” Gavin said.
“That’s why Beau has his own food bowl. You stay at that kitchen table, all right?”
“Okay.”
I pulled the dishrag off my shoulder and set it down next to the door. Then I stepped onto my porch and started across the road. I hoped it was only an abandoned bike. But the doctor in me knew better. I’d heard a commotion from the kitchen. Something that sounded like a trash can turning over or a tree falling in the distance. And after the throng of motorcycles that came cruising through, my worst fear was that someone was overturned into the ditch.
“Hello?” I asked as I approached the bike. “Is anyone down there?”
The handlebars were pretty dinged up and the outer characteristics of the bike were dented and scratched. I pulled out my phone and turned on its flashlight so I could get a better look. The doctor in me was screaming. I just knew someone was in that ditch. But I couldn't hear a sound and I couldn't see anything as I swiped my phone’s light left to right.
“Hello?” I called out again. “Anyone down there?”
Then, my phone swiped across a body.
A body with a very recognizable face.
“Holy fuck,” I said.
I scrambled into the ditch as I tucked my phone into my shirt. The light shone in front of me as I knelt down, my hands trembling as I took him in. Dirty blonde hair. Strong, chiseled features. His six-foot-four body was something I’d never be able to forget. I placed my hand underneath his nose and felt him breathing, then I felt for his pulse before my hands wrapped around his neck.
“Rock,” I said with a whisper. “What the hell have you done?”
“Mom!?”
“Gavin?” I asked.
“Where are you?”
“Get back in the house, Gavin!” I yelled.
“But Mom-”
“NOW!”
I heard my front door slam as I drew in a deep breath. My fingers started pressing into Rock’s neck to check if he had any sort of neck injury. I wrapped myself around him and felt up the divots of his back, trying to see if he had broken anything before I had a chance to move him. And I ignored the blatant reaction my body was having to his. Trembling hands. A cold sweat. Electricity surging through my veins. I felt my hands get clammy for the first time in years, which only made me grow more frustrated.
“Of course, it had to be you,” I said to myself.
After fully satisfying myself and relenting to the fact that Rock didn’t seem to be seriously injured, I rolled him over onto his back. I had no idea how the hell I was going to hoist this massive man out of the ditch, but I had to try. I bent down and wrapped his arm around me, then pushed with all my might to get him upright from the ground.
