Beautiful Outlaw (27 page)

Within seconds, she is lost in dream land.   I wish I could join her; go to sleep and forget everything that is happening around me.  As I close my eyes, visions of the people I love being hurt fills my mind.  Nina, Rachel, Tag, Tin, and most importantly Bowie; they’re all at risk because of me.  I can’t believe I brought this to their doorstep.  A nearly silent knock on the door startles me, bringing my attention back to the here and now. 

I climb from the bed, doing my best not to disturb Butters, and walk to the door.  When I open it, I’m shocked to see Red. That must mean he got Lila from her doctor’s appointment.  My first thought is of how scared her children will be, forced to stay at the clubhouse.  Again, guilt fills me. “Are Lila and the girls here?”

His eyes shift towards the hallway then back to me.  “Uhm… yeah.”

“I want to see them if it’s okay,” I need to tell her how sorry I am to put her and her children through this mess. 

“Maybe later,” His voice is frigid.  I can tell he doesn’t want me anywhere near his family, and I can’t blame him.

“I’m sorry I put you all in danger,” I say, hoping he can hear how sincere I am. 

He shrugs a shoulder, letting me know that my apology is wasted on him.  “Bowie wants to talk to you.”

His words send a wave of forbearing through me. “Is something wrong?” I ask stupidly.  Of course something is wrong; my crazy husband is coming after me and willing to hurt anyone in his path.  If Bowie needs me that can only mean something else has happened. 

“I don’t know.  I just came to get you when he told me to,” He explains, with an edge to his voice.

A tingle of unease runs down my spine. Something about his request feels off. Something just isn’t right. My pulse quickens, my hands get clammy. “Bowie told me to stay in here and wait for him.”

“I guess he changed his mind,” He says, reaching in to grab my arm to pull me into the hall.  I instinctively try to pull away and head towards the front room, knowing that Bowie is probably there.  Before I can take a step away, Red’s hand tightens around my forearm.  “He’s out back.”

Turning me around, he pulls me along with him.  As we walk towards the other end of the darkened hallway, my fear starts to grow. I’m not sure what is going on, but I know something is happening and that something isn’t good.   “What does Bowie want?”

Not answering, he continues to pull me down the hall.  Pushing the large metal door at the end of the hall open, a door I hadn’t even realized was there, he pulls me outside.  For a second, the bright sun blinds me.  After blinking the black spots from my eyes, I see a midnight blue corvette only a few feet from where I am standing.  When I get a look at the driver, I know coming with Red was a mistake.

A nasty smirk covers Tag’s mother’s face as she rolls down the driver’s window of her car.  “That took you too damn long.  We’re supposed to meet Cash in ten minutes. Hurry up and get her in here. ”

Immediately, I try to pull away from Red.  His hand tightens on my arm, not letting me go.  “Don’t fight me, Shay, make this easy on yourself,” His voice sounds almost sympathetic. 

“Why are you doing this?” My question comes out in a rush as I attempt to jerk my arm from his grasp.

The woman shouts from the car, obviously hearing my question.  “He couldn’t keep his hands out of the cookie jar, now he’s gotta pay up.  Since he ain’t gotthe money to cover it, you’ll be paying for him.”

I ignore her and focus on Red.  “Don’t do this, please don’t do this.”

He looks into my eyes, still not letting me go.  “I fucked up.  It’s too late to change things now.”

“Please, let me go,” I beg as his nails cut into my arm. 

“I can’t,” He says, with a shake of his head, then barks out. “Just get in the fucking car.”

I ignore his order and start to struggle.  Using my hands, nails, feet; anything to get away from him.  He ignores my attempt to escape for a second, before sending his fist into my face.  Pain explodes in my head, but I shake it away and keep fighting.  He strikes out again; his fist landing on my temple.  This time the pain in excruciating.  My body goes into shut down mode, and I crumble to the ground. 

As I fight the urge to close my eyes, I hear a shuffle and see Tag step out of the clubhouse.  I try to tell him to go back inside, but nothing more than a nearly silent moan comes out.  I watch as he runs towards me, screaming for Red to leave me alone. In retaliation of the order, Red sends a booted foot into my side.  I instinctively curl into a ball, hoping to block any further kicks, but it doesn’t work.  This time, the boot lands on my lower back, causing my whole body to shudder.  A second later the sound of a gunshot fills the air.  Just before the darkness takes me under, I watch Tag’s body slump to the ground. 

Bullets and Blood

Bowie

“What the fuck was that?” Rollo says as we step out of the office. 

I look over my shoulder at him, my voice still filled with anger from our earlier discussion.  “What are you talking about?”

He passes me, without meeting my eyes, heading towards the hallway.  “I think I heard a gunshot out back.”

I don’t hesitate, just take off for Shay’s room.  Entering the hallway, I see the back door of the club house open, allowing a slice of sunshine into the darkened space.  Something about that light causes my pulse to quicken.  I know, just know, Shay is out there and something has fuckin’ happened to her.  With only a quick glance into the empty room, where I had left Shay, I race past Rollo through the back door.  Stepping outside, my eyes are drawn to Tag’s bloody body lying on the ground. 

I start to go to him, but stop when the sounds of tires crunching over the gravel lot hit my ears.  I jerk my eyes to the gate, just in time to see Domino’s car hit the road. She’s driving the car, but she’s not alone. Just before the car disappears from sight, the passenger turns to look back.  When my eyes meet Red’s, I know for sure he’s been working with Cash all this time. Tossing my head back, I let out a roar.  “I’m gonna kill that motherfucker.”

“I’ll help you kill the bastard, but first, we have to get this kid to the hospital,” Rollo shouts, leaning down to roll Tag over.  “He’s losing a lot of blood.”

“Is he going to make it?” I ask, looking down at the kid that reminds me so much of myself.

Rollo looks up at me, while shaking his head. “He’s still breathing, but he won’t be for long if he doesn’t get help.”

I know he’s right.  I have to put my anger aside and do what must be done.  My military training kicks in as I crouch down next to Tag. I use Grandpa’s knife to split his shirt down the front and exam the damage.  As soon as I touch him, he starts to mumble.   I can’t quite make out what he’s saying, so I focus on the spot blood is pouring from his body.  The bullet tore through him just below his collarbone, only an inch or two shy of his heart.  Jerking off my cutt, I pull my shirt over my head and use it to staunch the blood flow.  “We gotta get this bleeding stopped.  If not, he’ll bleed out before we can get him to the hospital.”

“Why the fuck would they shoot him?” Rollo asks.

Tag’s eyes open briefly, before closing again.  I watch as he takes a deep breath and opens his mouth. “I was trying to help Shay. Red was trying to put her in Mom’s car.”

The urge to jump up and chase after them fills me, but I know it would be no use.  By the time I got to my bike, they’d be long gone.  I close my eyes, trying to calm myself.  “What did they want with Shay?”

He tries to say something, but it comes out as a bloody cough instead.  Knowing I’m losing him, I look to Rollo.  “Damn it, this is bad.”

“I think it’s time you tell me what the fuck is going on.  We’re fixin’ to go to war for your woman, but I have no damn idea why.  What the hell is happening here, brother?”

“Cash made some sort of deal with Shay’s husband.”

The words barely leave my mouth, before Tin-Man rushes out the door with his gun drawn.  “What the hell is happing now?”

I don’t bother replying, just continue to add pressure to Tag’s wound.  Rollo does the explaining.  “I’m not sure, really, but Tag has a damn bullet in his chest and Red and Domino just burned rubber getting out of here.”

“Red?” Tin asks, his voice filled with uncertainty.  “No fucking way.  He wouldn’t do this shit.”

Rollo starts to tell him about his suspicions, but I cut him off.  “We can talk about that shit later.  Right now, we gotta get the kid to the hospital.”

Tin looks down to Tag then back to me.  “I don’t think you should move him.”

He’s right; I shouldn’t, but I’m going to anyway.  If we call this shit in, the entire clubhouse will be swarming with police.  That’s the last fuckin’ thing I need right now.  I don’t want the kid to die, but if I don’t put a stop to Cash’s plans, Shay could die too. I run my options through my head, settling on the best then motion towards Rollo.  “Pick one of the bitches to ride with you.  Y’all take him in, say he was target practicing behind your house and somehow shot himself.”

Not giving him time to reply, I look to Tin and use my free hand to toss him my knife.  “Cut some strips from your shirt.  I wanna wrap him up, before we try to move him.”

Tin does as I say, without hesitation, but he does add his opinion of my plan. “They ain’t gonna buy that shit.”

“No they won’t, but I need a little time to get things straight here before the boys in blue come our way.”

How the hell I’ll do that, I don’t know.  In fact, I have no fuckin’ idea what’s even going on.  If Red is part of all this shit, the entire game has changed.  Cash has probably known what was going on from the get go.  I just wonder why in the fuck he didn’t stop me before I went to Alabama. My mind races, trying to find the answer. Suddenly, it all clicks in place. Cash set me up; he fuckin’ set me up.

Cash wanted me in Alabama.  He wanted me away from here so he could set up this shit with Marcus.  How the fuck he figured out about Shay’s past I don’t know, but I damn sure plan to find out. When I do, someone is going to die. 

Tin lets out a whistle, drawing my attention.  I look at him, just as he tosses me a strip from his shirt.  I lift Tag and start to bind his wound.  The movement causes him to let out a pain filled moan.  “Help her.” Tag sputters out as he opens his eyes again.  “You gotta help Shay.”

44295, 44295, 44295

Shay

I wake in pain, agony so severe that it nearly takes my breath away. Fighting to shake off the darkness, I slowly open my eyes.  Surprisingly, I find myself in Bowie’s house, laying on the bed in Tin-Man’s room.  The smell of marijuana and stale beer causes my stomach to flip flop. 

I try to roll to my side, but my side feels as if it has a knife lodged deeply in it.  With each breath I take, it slices further into me.  I take a deep breath, trying to work up the courage to move again.  Before I can try, voices from the other room stop me.  “Is she still out cold?”

“Yeah, the bitch fought like a wildcat.”

My brain is too foggy to make out who’s talking, but I focus on what is being said.  “Whose fuckin’ idea was it for us to wait here?”

“Cash thought it would be funny for us to hold the little bitch at Bowie’s house.  A little retribution for taking over the club,” Says a female voice, with an evil laugh.  It can only be Tag’s mothers, so that means the other voice probably belongs to Red.  

The reminder that Bowie’s own father is behind this causes my pulse to quicken. I knew that he hated his son the moment I laid eyes on him, but I didn’t realize how truly evil he is.  Even after everything that Bowie has told me, a small part of me couldn’t believe a father would want to hurt his own son. 

“I still think that it’s a stupid idea, holding her at Bowie’s house.”

“He’ll be looking everywhere else.  He’ll never think to come here,” She says with a laugh that sends chills down my spine.

The conversation goes on, but I only half listen as I climb from the bed.  Looking around the room, a pistol resting on Tin’s dresser draws my attention.  Memories of my brother teaching me to fire a gun run through my mind. For the first time in my life, I appreciate Jeremy’s lessons.  He spent hours teaching me to handle a weapon with care.

With one hand pressing firmly against the ache in my side, I walk towards the dresser.  Picking the gun up, I check if it’s loaded.  When I see the bullets, I let out a relived breath. Clicking off the safety, I turn towards the opened door.   One of Jeremy’s rules keep pushing itself to the forefront.  Never pick up a gun, unless you’re willing to use it.  Right now, I’m more than willing. 

When I reach the hallway, I look towards the kitchen.  I can still hear them talking, but they’re nowhere in sight.  I start to take a step out of the room, when Red’s voice stops me in my tracks.  “When’s the dick gonna get here?  I want to deliver her ass to him and hit the road. If Bowie shows up, we’re all dead.”

“You’re dead anyway. Do you really think that Cash is gonna keep you by his side after you turned on Bowie?”

After a moment of silence, he finally replies. “I guess you think the fact you suck his dick will keep you safe?”

She doesn’t answer his question.  Instead, she finally tells him what he wanted to know in the first place.  “Her husband should be here any minute.  As soon as he takes her, we can split the money and hide until Bowie and Cash kill each other.”

I spend the next few minutes listening to them plan to double-cross Cash, before finally stepping out into the hallway.  The weight of the pistol in my hand causes my body to shake.  I know if I go in there, I’m going to have to use it.  If I’m lucky, I will end the day killing two people.  If not, I will end up dead.  Either way, I’ll leave this house a different person. 

Knowing there isn’t a different choice, I take a step forward while raising the gun.  A barely sit my foot down before the sound of a car reaches my ear.  “He’s here.  Go get the bitch, let’s get this shit done.”

A second later a door slams, marking Red’s exit and Domino walks into the kitchen.  She turns to the hall and nearly trips, when she sees me standing there with a gun in my hand.  I hold it steady on her, trying to force myself to pull the trigger.  I can’t, I just can’t take another person’s life. My mind races as my heart pounds in my chest.