Beautiful Outlaw (23 page)

“What the hell is going on with him and
Mamá
?” Tin asks in a hushed voice, one filled with anger and suspicion.

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out as soon as we get back,” I say, determined to get an answer.

“If he hurts
Mamá
, the bastard will die.”  

I lift my chin to Tin in agreement.  Without us there, all our girls are in danger. We need to be there with them, not here talking about this shit.  I start my bike, letting him know the discussion is over.  “Let’s get home.”

Words Hurt Too

Shay

I smile as I hand Lila a glass of lemonade.  “I’m so glad you stopped by today.”

This is the third time Lila has come over since Bowie left.  Each time, we’ve ended up sitting at the kitchen table talking for hours. Just as I thought, we’ve become great friends.  I love Nina and Rachel, but they’re more like family, so it’s nice having a female friend to talk to. 

“I know you gotta be bored out of your mind with Bowie gone,” She says as she takes a drink.

“Yeah, but I’ve been busy, so it’s not so bad.” I reply, grabbing myself a glass of lemonade and joining her at the table. 

She looks around the freshly painted kitchen and nods.  “I can see you’ve been busy.  This place has never been more than a crash pad, but it looks like a home now.”

I follow her eyes, taking in all the changes.  Creamy yellow paint now covers the grease stained brown that was there before.  The once sparse walls are now littered with pictures and shelves filled with knick-knacks that Nina and I bought at yard sales.  The kitchen now resembles her home, but it has my own personal twist on it.  “I hope Bowie doesn’t mind the changes.”

She rolls her eyes as she takes sip of her drink.  “He won’t.  I doubt he’ll even notice you did anything.”

I know she’s wrong; Bowie notices everything.  He’ll notice the new curtains and sofa cover in the living room, the hand-sewn quilt on the bed, and definitely a different color of paint on the kitchen walls.  “Oh well, it’s too late to worry now.”

“Do you know when he’s gonna be home?” She asks as she sits her glass down. 

I shake my head.  “I’m not sure.  He just keeps saying soon.”

“I worry about you being here all by yourself,” She says before looking towards the living room, where Tag is watching TV.  “I know Tag is around, but he’s so young.”

Tag hasn’t left my side since the day Cash stopped by.  He goes everywhere with me: working in the yard, the grocery store, even to visit Nina and Rachel.  Some nights I even find him sleeping outside of my bedroom door.  He may be young, but I know he would do anything he can to protect me.

“I’m fine.  We haven’t had any problems.”

“I would call Cash stopping by a major problem,” She says, with worry in her voice.  “I’m also worried about your past coming back to haunt you.”

During her last visit, I had told her about my past.  Not everything, but enough to explain my sudden appearance in Rich Hill.  Obviously that was enough to cause her concern.  “He has no idea where I am.”

“My dad used to beat the hell out of my mom,” She says, out of the blue.  “I was eleven by the time she finally got the courage to leave him.”

“Oh, honey.  I’m sorry.”

Tears fill her eyes. “It didn’t matter how far we went; he would always find us.  After we moved here, he showed up one night and nearly killed her.  He ended up going to prison that time, but I swear she spent the next ten years looking over her shoulder.  She just knew he would get out and come after her, so I know how scary this has to be for you.”

I reach out and grab her hand, giving it a squeeze.  “My husband didn’t beat me. He did a lot of other things, but Marcus Bell would think hitting a woman was un-dignified.” I don’t bother telling her that he would probably just hire someone to do it for him.  He never did, but he threatened more than once to bring someone in to teach me a lesson. 

Her eyes meet mine, and I can see sympathy and also understanding playing in their depths.  “A man doesn’t have to beat a woman to tear her down.  Sometimes a simple word can do more damage than a fist could ever do.”

Something about her words causes my stomach to roll. “Are things okay with you and Red?”

Her hand pulls away from mine in a flash as she leans back against her chair.  “Everything is fine.”

Not giving me time to reply, she jumps from her chair and grabs her purse from the table.  “I gotta run, gotta pick up the kids from Mom’s.” Without giving me a chance to say goodbye, she heads to the living room and is out the door. 

I follow behind her.  Just as I hit the living-room, Tag catches my arm.  I try to jerk away, but he doesn’t let go.  “I need to go after her.”

“Sometimes people have to deal with shit on their own,” He says with more wisdom than a sixteen year old should have. 

“But...” I start, but he stops me with a shake of his head. 

“Just because you were ready to listen, doesn’t mean she’s ready to talk.”

My shoulders sag, when the truth of his words hit me.  For years, my parents and Jeremy tried to get me to tell them what was going on with me and Marcus.  Each time they questioned me, I sunk further and further away.  I don’t want to do that to Lila.  “You’re right.  I’ll let her tell me when she’s ready.”

Stepping away from me, he shoots me a smile that I am sure turns all the teenage girls into mush.  “I thought you said you were gonna make me some cookies, so hop to it, Mom.”

He started calling me Mom right after he moved in.  Of course, he only does it when he wants something. Each time he says it, I want to laugh but I also want to cry a little, because his own mom hasn’t even checked in on him since he’s been here.  I smile at him and head to the kitchen.  It’s time to make Tag some cookies. 

Time to Vote

Bowie

We roll into the clubhouse around nine in the morning.  The place is already busting at the seams with members.  I called ahead, and told Cash we needed to have church as soon as I arrived.  I gave him some bullshit story about problems with the drop, but he’ll find out the truth soon enough. 

Climbing from my bike, I look over to Tin.  “Are you sure you wanna be here for this?”

“I may not be able to vote, but I wouldn’t miss this for any fuckin’ thing.”

Even though Tin wears a cutt, he doesn’t have the same rights the other brothers do. It took me three years of fighting with our father for him to be allowed in church at all, but his mixed blood keeps him from earning a vote.  That is the first thing I’m gonna change when I take the gavel from Cash. 

I nod and turn to the clubhouse, lighting a cigarette as I go.  He lays a hand on my shoulder before I can even take a step.  “Are you sure you don’t want to go see Shay before we go in there.”

Hell yeah, I do.  A part of me wants to go grab her and run for the hills, but I can’t.  I have to get that President’s patch off Cash.  “Nah, man.  I’ll see her when this is over.”

“Brother…” He starts but I cut him off with a shake of my head, not wanting him to remind me that I may never walk out of this place again. 

“Come on then, let’s get this shit done,” I say as we walk towards the clubhouse. 

As soon as we step inside, I see Cash sitting at the bar with Toke at his side.  “Fuck!”

The word barely leaves my mouth, before Rollo is standing in front of me.  Lines of worry are etched in his face as he says, “He was already here when I showed up this morning.”

“What I want to know is how the hell did he get away from you in the first place?”

“Fuck, brother.  I had him drugged and tied up, so I thought it was safe to get a little sleep,” He runs a shaking hand through his hair. 

Tin’s hand lands on my shoulder.  “We’ll talk about this shit later.”

My barely controlled fury is threatening to break through, so I take a step back. Throwing my half smoked cigarette to the floor, I growl out, “If any of us is still breathing when we walk out of here today, we’ll do more than talk.”

Rollo nods his head, knowing that nothing he can say will help him avoid the ass-whooping coming his way.  “I understand.”

I nod, letting them all know the conversation is done and head to Cash.  He lifts his chin, when he sees me approach.  “You’re back.”

I don’t waste my breath shooting the shit, just get to the point.  “I told you we needed to have church. Are you ready?”

“Sure am,” He says as he downs the rest of his beer. 

*****

Fifteen minutes later, we’re sitting around the table.  Cash is at the head, with the gavel in his hand.  He knocks it against the table and says, “There were some problems during the run to Alabama. Those fuckin’ Sixes are after our shit again, and your VP has plans to take their asses down.”

My eyes narrow in on Toke, sitting on the opposite side of the table from me.  His eyes are trained on Cash, and for the first time, I see the hatred that Tin-Man told me about. The subtle fisting of his hands and flashes of anger in his eyes are the only signs.  If I hadn’t been watching him so closely, I would have missed it. 

Cash goes on, reciting my words from earlier. He tells them everything I said to him then looks to me, drawing my attention from Toke.  “Go on, Bowie.”

I take another drink of my beer, before I say the words that could possibly end my life.  “I want a vote.  I want Cash out, and I want the gavel.”

“What the fuck?” My father roars as he jumps from his seat, sending the chair crashing to the floor.  “This ain’t no time for games, boy.”

I ignore him and look around the table, making eye contact with each of my brothers.  “Cash is running the club into the ground.  He has us running guns in the Sixes’ turf, and now he has boys taking product up north to the Rejects’ territory.  We may be able to handle war with one of those clubs, but we can’t fight them both at the same time.”

Cash tries to speak, but Topper cuts him off.  “Another year of this shit, we’re gonna have more enemies than we can handle.”

“We voted to take the guns into Alabama.”

“Yeah, we did.  But at the time, you said there was an agreement with the Sixes.  Bowie and I learned that wasn’t true, Kilo and his boys came at us with their guns drawn,” Rollo says as he leans forward, placing the palms of his hands on the table.  

“We voted against going up North.” I add, making sure the boys remember that Cash went against the vote and sent the boys anyway.

Topper takes a drink of his beer before saying, “What I don’t understand, what I’ve never understood, is why the hell we’re taking these risks.  You’re sending guns down to Alabama, when you know Sixes supply guns to half of the Southern states.  Then, you’ve got us taking coke up North.  Everyone knows that the Rejects control the drug trade up there.”

I smile, knowing he is going to take the conversation where I want it to go.  Still, I decide to give it a little push.  “The Sixes don’t deal in drugs.  After Kilo’s Old Lady OD’d, he outlawed anything stronger that weed in his club.”

“The Rejects don’t run guns,” Homer says, finally joining the conversation. 

Rollo shakes his head.  “No, they don’t.  The ATF took them down while transferring a load of assaults a few years back.  Their President took the heat; he’s serving a quarter in maximum security.  After that, they pulled out of the gun trade.”

“That’s what I’m getting at,” Topper says with a nod.  “Why aren’t we taking the drugs south and the guns north?  Doing it like this doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense.”

A few other brothers mumble their agreement, but Cash cuts them off.  “This is my club, and we do what I say.”

His voice is cold as ice, causing some of the brothers to back down.  Not me, though.  I just look at him and laugh.  “You may be the President, old man, but this isn’t your club.”

I look back to my brothers.  “This is our club.”

Cash starts again, but I shut him up by saying something my grandpa used to say all the time.  “Every fuckin’ person here, from prospect to President, has a voice.  To make the Outlaws strong, we have to listen to each of those voices.”

“Fuck that.” My father shouts.  “I hold the gavel now, and you boys do whatever in the fuck I say.”

Topper slaps his hand on the table with such force it sends his beer crashing over.  “I agree with Bowie.  It’s time for a change. We need new blood sitting at the head of the table.  I call for a vote.”

Without hesitation, Rollo agrees.  “I second that.”

“Nay!” Cash shouts, casting the first vote.

I stand up and say, “Aye.”

One after the other, each of the brothers cast their vote.  Surprisingly, some of the boys I thought would side with me vote Nay.  By the time we make it around the table to Toke, it’s tied.  I know as soon as he casts his vote, Cash will put a bullet in my head.  My only thought is that I wish I could see Shay once more. 

“Aye,” Toke says, surprising the fuck out of me.

“What?” Cash roars, reaching down to grab Toke by his cutt. 

In seconds, the two of them are on the floor.  I see Cash reach for his gun, but Toke jerks his hand away and rolls on top of him before he can pull it out.  He lands a right hook into Cash’s face, breaking my father’s nose.  Then, he stands up. “It’s over.”

Cash pulls himself to his knees, wiping blood from his face.  “No, it’s not.”

Toke doesn’t respond to him, just turns to walk from the room.  Before he steps outside, he looks over his shoulder at me.  “Don’t fuck up.” With that, he’s out the door. 

I turn back to the room and watch as Cash gets to his feet.  “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”

“Once a brother, always a brother,” Topper reminds me, from his spot at the table. 

As much as I want to throw his ass out, I know that’s not gonna fly.  “First, you take off the President patch.  Then, you grab a beer.”

I watch as he uses his knife to pull his patch from his cutt.  His hands are shaking so bad that it takes him awhile.  When he finally gets it, he tosses it my way.  “Happy now?”

I don’t bother replying, just look at the table.  “My first order of business is naming my VP.”