Falling For Crazy (Moroad Motorcycle Club) (21 page)

"What made you change so much, you've lost all feelings for other people, for me." Her gaze narrowed. "You've been bullshitting me all along."

"How I feel about you isn't bullshit," he said.

"Right." She exhaled harshly. "If you cared, you'd let your club handle Los Li."

"It's not their fight."

"It's not yours either." Her voice raised, and her hair fell against her cheek. "Sarah's gone, and nothing will bring her back. It doesn't matter how many men you kill. My sister is not coming back."

He swallowed away the pain. "The men who hurt her need to pay."

She covered her face with her hands. He pulled her back in his arms, more determined than ever to protect her.

"You want a ride, we'll go for a ride," he said, kissing the top of her hair and nodding at the men watching him in case he needed help with her. He'd never hurt her, but his MC brothers didn't know that. They had his woman's back.

She sniffed. "I thought you wanted us to stay here."

"I do, but one more ride before I leave." He cupped her face and thrummed his thumbs across her damp cheeks. "I need to show you something before I go."

She fell in beside him. He tucked her under his arm. What he was about to do could never be undone, but he had to show her in case Quijada or Flores take him out.

Cam limped over to him. He stopped, looking his president in the eye.

"Do you need riders with you?" Cam glanced at Amy before looking at Jacko again.

Jacko shook his head. "I'm good. I need to take Amy out of town...up Nine Mile."

"You sure you want to do this?" Cam studied him.

Jacko held on to Amy tighter, knowing Cam held Amy's future back at his house and would make sure she received all the information she needed when he was gone. "It's time."

Cam nodded, slipped back to the fire, and Jacko led Amy to his motorcycle. Aware of his surroundings and on the lookout for Los Li, he took Amy where he should've taken her at the beginning. To say goodbye.

J
acko parked the motorcycle in the middle of the single lane gravel road inside Nine Mile Cemetery. Amy sat behind him, her arms lax around his middle. A scream of renunciation caught in her chest, pounding to get out. The moment he had pulled off the main road and zigzagged through the marked graves to the back wall where the ashes of people's loved ones rested, she understood what he wanted to show her.

He shut off the bike. She leaned against his back. Her heart raced. Her pulse pounded in her ears. Her stomach flipped. Any second, her heart would burst, killing her.

She wanted to run over and talk with her sister, even though Sarah would never hear her. As soon as the thought came, she wanted to tell Jacko to start the motorcycle and take her back to the motel. Denial was a powerful drug, and she wanted to overdose. As long as she could pretend Sarah was away, she could keep herself from falling into an endless phase of missing her.

God, she missed her every single day.

Five years and she could still remember blowing Sarah a kiss as she walked out of the house to meet Jacko at his rental house a mile away. Mimicking the instructions her mom always said to the girls, Amy had told her sister to be careful and come home before midnight, even though Sarah was an adult. Amy's goodbye to Sarah that night was a reminder that she loved and cared for her sister and in the back of her mind, one more jab at being the older sister who could boss Sarah around.

The night Jacko came and told her he'd received proof that Los Li murdered Sarah in Mexico replayed in her head. She'd asked him to repeat everything three times, and finally she understood. She'd collapsed to her knees, and Jacko carried her to the sofa, covered her up, and left her to understand the magnitude of losing her sister alone.

The next morning, Jacko returned with the news she had to move away. She never asked him to repeat himself. She understood, and she followed his instructions, started over, and moved on with her life by herself.

Jacko cleared his throat. "Three rows from the right, the second box from the top."

She stared out into the dark at the wilted flowers stuck in the holes of the wall and wondered if anyone ever placed a bouquet in Sarah's vault. If she would've stayed living near Federal, she could've came and visited. Even brought flowers. Sarah loved daisies.

"Who paid for her to...be here?" she asked, hoping she spoke loud enough. Everything sounded muffled with her thoughts filling her head.

Jacko's shoulders straightened. "I did."

"Is she...?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Then her body is still in Mexico?" she whispered, scrunching her forehead against the hate filling her.

"We don't have much time, Amy. I wanted to show you where you could come if you..." Jacko reached behind him and stroked her thigh. "It's a place you can talk to her and uh, yeah, maybe put some flowers up there on the wall for her."

"Can I go over?" she asked.

He nodded.

She slipped off the motorcycle and stayed by his side. "Will you come with me?"

"Momma," he whispered on an exhale.

He remained on his bike. She reached out and stroked his beard. All these years she held out hope that Sarah wasn't dead. That somehow, she'd wake up the next day and her sister would come running in the house excited about a movie or plans with her friends.

It was time for her to tell Sarah goodbye, and she rather have Jacko beside her.

"Please," she said.

He climbed off the bike, grabbed her hand, and led her through the dark. Only one overhead light lit the way. She gazed at the ground, watching her step on the worn path through the grass.

She looked up at Jacko and understood who had forged across the grass many, many times. "You come here a lot. Is this where you come to at night when you ride away by yourself?"

He stopped in front of the wall, ignoring her question. "You need to say or do what you need to do. I don't like having you out at night, away from the club."

Her chest compressed imagining him in the dark cemetery alone, wishing for a different outcome. Maybe even talking to Sarah in a way he struggled to open up around his club brothers. She squeezed his hand and turned to the wall.

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Sarah Ann O'Harris

January 23, 1988 ~ September 2, 2010

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E
motions clogged Amy's throat, and she sucked air into her lungs. She traced Sarah's name with her index finger. The surface cold and smooth sent chills through her.

Jacko moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her steady. She trailed her finger over the wilted, white daisies, and watched a few petals fall to the ground at her feet. Jacko had remembered Sarah's favorite flower.

"I miss you so much, Sarah," she whispered. "Every day."

Jacko kissed the side of her head. "She knows, Momma."

She bowed her head wanting to stay at the cemetery until she believed him when he promised Sarah was at peace. Until she was strong enough to leave and go on alone.

People were supposed to die of old age, medical problems, car accidents. The ones left living were supposed to mourn, heal, understand.

A young woman stolen, tortured, used, and killed by the Mexican mafia went against life's natural course. Sarah's death was unthinkable and went unpunished. The outcry from the public never came, because the crime was kept hidden for her safety. Jacko wanted her kept safe, and in the end his attempt was all for nothing. Los Li threatened her life, too.

"I'll kill the fuckers. Every last one of them," Jacko said as if reading her mind. "They will know she meant everything to us. I'll make sure they never trespass on your life again."

The reminder of him leaving in two days crashed into her. She leaned back against him. God, help her. She understood his need to wipe the earth of the men who hurt Sarah. But, she feared losing Jacko more than she needed vengeance.

Sarah was gone.

There was no changing her fate. No matter how many wishes, she was never getting her sister back.

Jacko was living.

The future was there's to share together, to survive, to love.

She closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of her sister's memorial vault, the depressing night, tomorrow's changes. Jacko's warmth surrounded her. His lips were on her skin. His breath tickled her ear. His heart beat against her back.

She turned and held him tight. "Promise right now, on Sarah's grave, you will come back to me. Promise me, Jacko. I need to hear the words. I need you in my life, breathing, living, and driving me crazy. I can't lose you, too."

He captured her lips. A shudder rolled through her. The uneasiness she'd experienced since running back to Federal grew.

Jacko pulled back, laid his forehead against hers, and said, "I promise."

She inhaled his confidence, needing every single drop.

"Are you ready to go back to the motel?" he asked.

She raised her chin. "In just a second."

Turning around, she faced the cold, marble wall, the only connection she had with her sister now. She had five years' worth of things to say and too little time.

"Sarah...I'll be back." She placed her palm flat on her sister's engraved name and whispered, "I'm okay. Jacko's here with me, and he's taking care of everything. If you can see us, I know you think this is weird. I never—"

"Amy," Jacko said. "She knows."

Her heart pounded against her chest, and she leaned forward, resting her cheek against the wall. "Forgive me, Sarah," she whispered.

Jacko gathered her in his arms and walked her back to the motorcycle. Drained and morose, she rode back to the motel. The closure she expected to come now that she had a place to visit with her memories hovered out of reach. Maybe Jacko was right and after all the men responsible for killing Sarah were dead, she could heal. She looked up at the black sky speckled with stars and hugged Jacko tighter. An ache settled deep in her chest, and she couldn't help feeling like part of her was missing and Jacko hadn't left yet.

T
wo miles north of Idaho State Penitentiary, the traffic flowed consistently past the gravel Park and Ride under the interstate. Jacko, standing beside his Harley, held his phone in his hand and checked the time. Already noon and Pretaro still hadn't called to let him know Veto Quijada walked out of prison a free man.

Cam, Merk, Jeremy, and Gunner walked up to Jacko. Tension crawled up the back of Jacko's neck. The timing and location had to be perfect, or he risked everyone's lives.

Jacko swayed. "Merk, what time were you released last time?"

"Eleven o'clock," said Merk.

Jacko looked at Cam. "You?"

"Ten the last time and ten thirty the time before that." Cam brought his cigarette to his mouth. "Gunner?"

"Noon," said Gunner.

"Fuck," Jacko muttered. "I'm calling Pretaro."

"No, give him time. It took a lot of work on your part egging on Los Li to show their partnership with Reds. You want to keep Flores comfortable enough to pick up Quijada. If you want to kill them both, you need to wait." Cam reached over and hooked Jeremy's neck. "Shit goes down, kid, I want you to hightail it out of here, huh?"

"Is that an order from my president or my dad?" Jeremy spoke around the chew in his bottom lip. "Because I don't plan on ripping off my patch today. Jacko needs every man here. I'm staying."

Cam poked Jeremy in the shoulder. "Keep your ass alive then."

Jeremy lifted his chin in reply and turned his head and spit. Jacko bounced on his feet. He should've heard something from Pretaro by now. The faster he got the job, the sooner he could straighten out Amy's life. Taking her to the cemetery was the best thing for her and the most fucked up idea he had. He'd nailed the lid on his coffin.

Jacko's phone vibrated. He stilled, holding up his hand for everyone to shut up, and swyped the screen.

"Yeah." He eyed Cam and nodded when Pretaro opened his mouth.

"Quijada left five minutes ago," said Pretaro.

"Who picked him up?" He walked a path around his motorcycle, studying the interstate, knowing he had one chance.

"Nobody signed in. Quijada met someone outside the gate, and the driver never stepped out of the car, so I can't even give you a description." Pretaro's voice cut in and out over the phone.

"What kind of car?"

"Hang on." Silence came over the phone.

Jacko rubbed the back of his neck. He'd taken the rumors of Flores being in the states and spread bullshit far and wide inside the prison. He counted on Los Li showing their need for revenge on Quijada and escorting him to his death. Except he wanted to get to Quijada before Flores had a chance to kill him. Then, take Flores out.

"It was a navy colored, four-door car. I can't make out the model on the security tape, maybe a Lincoln or Cadillac," said Pretaro.

"You have a shot of the car in front of you?"

"Yeah."

"Is there any hood ornament?" Jacko turned to Cam and held out his two fingers and brought them to his mouth.

Cam passed him a smoke. Jacko inhaled the nicotine.

"Yes, there's a BMW ornament, but the car isn't a Mercedes. It's too big. We're talking a boat," said Pretaro.

Jacko nodded to Cam. "Thanks, man. I owe you."

He disconnected the call. "Quijada got picked up at the gate by a marked Los Li vehicle. Pretaro doesn't know who the driver is, but he gave me a positive identification of a car owned by the Mexican mafia."

"Are you staying with the plan?" Cam's gaze searched the area.

Jacko ran his hand over his face. He took a chance staying here, out in the open, but he wanted the two men confident and secure in their surroundings. With so many eye witnesses, they wouldn't expect him to make a move and risk getting thrown back in prison for life.

Quijada and Flores believed he was stupid. He sucked on the cigarette. He was just crazy.

"Yeah, we stick with the plan." Jacko looked each of his MC brothers in the eye. "You can move out and let me take this one. I have no problem going alone."