“Still putting on that little fucking charade, I see. I ain’t here to play games, girl.” Mac walks by me into the room and sits on the sofa, kicking his dusty shoes up onto the coffee table. “The night I killed your daddy, Lucy. Don’t play dumb with me. The night you two called it splits.”
My head goes faint.
“What’s the matter little Palermo? Landon didn’t tell you what really happened that night, did he?”
“I… I don’t…”
“You don’t know shit, little Palermo. You don’t know the full story of what that man did to your fucking mother. You don’t know me and her had history once, beyond the bullshit you and Landon thought you suffered through. You don’t know how good it felt when I drove that knife into his fucking heart.”
“You… You killed him?”
“I did what needed to be done. You should be thanking me.”
“I need to see Landon again…” I whisper. “Please, please, Mac.”
“Landon owes a debt to the club because of what I did for you and for every other time we’ve stepped in for him. He’s marrying Mia and repaying that debt and I’m not going to let some little Palermo fuck that up.”
He cracks the knuckles on his left hand, grinning savagely. He reaches down and unclips the long knife strapped to his belt.
“Now I’m gonna ask you, little Palermo… Are you gonna leave easy, or are you gonna make this hard for me?”
Instead of going sad and powerless, I turn mad.
I storm over to Mac. “You won’t. You say you and my mom had history, why hurt me?”
“Y’sure I wouldn’t hold this to your throat and press?” He takes a step closer to me but I hold my ground and try to control my shaking. “You willing to put your life on the line?” he asks, pulling the knife from its sheathe. “I may have cared for your mother once upon a time but I couldn’t give two shits about her spawn.”
“Cut the bullshit, old man. Take me to Landon then I go. I only need two minutes.”
Mac gets to his feet and rests his hand on my neck. I feel fear rising within me as he lifts the knife and picks his teeth with it. He studies my face and body so obviously that I recoil. “And what do I get in return?”
“My leaving in peace.”
“Oh ho-ho,” he guffaws. “That so? So, I’ll have a riot on my hands if I don’t let you see him, huh?”
“I’m not scared of you.”
“Oh yes you are.”
“Take me to him now.”
“Well, I could do that but, y’see, by the time we reach Sal’s, he ain’t gonna be there. And where he is, well, let’s just say a pacifist like you might not approve.”
“Go fuck yourself. Where is he?”
“Alright, I’ll tell you,” he says with the lick of his lips. “The boys took him down to the warehouse to knock some fucking sense into him. If he don’t fall into line, they’re gonna patch him out the hard way. Maybe I’ll take you there and let you watch if you do something for me.”
He grins wickedly and I know what he’s implying as he stares down at my tits. I spit on his face. He snatches my wrist with his free hand and shoves a dusty handkerchief into my mouth. It’s shocking, choking me. “You crazy bitch. You Palermo women really do know how to put up a fight, don’t you?”
I jump, gagging on the dry cloth, screaming as loud as I can muster through the fabric and tug away from his sausage-like fingers that manhandle me tightly. Luckily, my knee breaks upward forcefully into Mac’s crotch and I get a good scratch across the whites of his eye.
He buckles, the knife clattering to the floor and giving me a chance to run.
I bolt for the door and run straight towards Mac’s big rumbling softtail fat boy. It had been eight years since Landon had taught me to ride but my foot kicked the lever into gear on pure muscle memory as Mac came charging out of the motel room.
I’m gone before he can get close, scattering dirt and gravel in his face as I tear out of the parking lot. Balancing such a large motorcycle is difficult. This thing rides nothing like Landon’s old beat up sportster.
I know where I’m going. The old warehouse downtown has been a club meeting spot for years. They used to hold illegal cage fights there back when I was just a girl. The place was as run-down to all Hell when I last saw it. I don’t know what I expect to find there but that’s no mind. I need to find Landon quickly.
I just wish I knew what I’m going to say once I do…
Chapter 25
T-Bone is tossing a pair of wraps onto my lap and it feels like old times. I look around, my head aching and memories flashing in and out of existence.
The warehouse…
I know this place. This is my place… I stare down at my scarred and calloused knuckles, lifting up the wrist wrappings in my fist. Recollections of my past are flowing back like water. I’m in one of the dark locker rooms but just outside these doors is the cage. That’s the cage where new prospects earned their patch… And if someone wanted out of the club, they had to go back through that cage one more time.
They had to go through me.
Enforcer.
Oh God, that was my position in the club. I hurt people.
I wish I could forget.
“Wakey, wakey,” T-Bone says, throwing cold water on my face. “Time to look alive. I don’t wanna throw you in the cage with your damn eyes closed.”
I look up at T-Bone and give him a little nod. None of this is his fault. He’s just doing his job. Impartial. Cold.
“You’re lucky Mac is letting you do this,” T-Bone says, leaning back against a wall. “Most people tear their patch off and end up in the ground.”
Lucky?
Lucky to be alive?
Lucky to be here?
Lucky to step into that ring and risk permanent brain injury for a patch the old Landon clearly didn’t want?
I’ve never felt such hopelessness. My mood is in a constant state of aggression. I want to fight the world, fight everyone around me who’re meant to be my friends, my only family in this world. I want to run again, crash my Harley right back into that small town. Here, where I sit, these last few days— They’re nothing I want. I don’t want to get better. I don’t want to keep remembering all this shit I’d left behind me. I don’t want this life. I don’t want Mac breathing down my fucking neck. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to bleed for this club. They don’t understand how lost I am. I’ve fucked up in the past— My consequences are proving that. But when is life going to cut me some slack? When do I get forgiven?
“Saw you and Mia,” T-Bone says. “You sort everything out with her
?”
“Would I be here if I did?” I ask, my head pounding. Garrett did a number on me back in the alley.
“Guess not. Maybe you should just give the girl a try… Mia’s into some kinky shit…”
“For fucks sake, T, don’t tell me you’re fucking her too.”
“Forget about it man. I need your head in this one. You gotta get your rep back, man. Boon’s on some shit tonight, you gotta have that guard up. He’s a crazy mother fucker.”
Boon, the low-life scum I’m fighting tonight. I remember him. I’d been in that cage with him before when he earned his patch.
He was good…
Real good.
He didn’t care about sinking his teeth into whatever artery came close.
“I can’t fight,” I say quietly.
“I ain’t the one pushing this, brother, Mac is. Rev told me about the accident. Don’t let this asshole hit you in the head, that’s all I ask. Mac might say otherwise but we don’t want you dead.”
“Maybe I should. I don’t want to fucking remember any of this.”
We walk out into the rowdy, drunken crowd who are standing around a makeshift cage illuminated by trash-can fires. They shout and cheer as I enter the ring. I can see Mia standing there twirling her hair and watching me, letting some asshole whisper sweet bullshit into her ear. There’s other patched Dragon’s who I can’t remember or haven’t met and a few crews in from out of town for the weekend.
Garrett steps forward from the group and puts his palm on the cage. I step closer so he doesn’t have to shout over the crowd.
“Why the fuck did you do this?” I ask, baring my teeth.
“I trusted you with my life, Landon. Always have. We’re brothers. This club is our family and you’ve been saying words about it. If I’m gonna ride with you again, I need to know you’re part of this family. I know you don’t mean the shit you’ve been saying. Mac thinks this might help you remember…”