Owned (19 page)

I wanted desperately to make him proud of me. I didn’t want to cry, or scream, or do anything stupid. I reached out and squeezed his hands in mine.

“I thought you’d be more excited.”

“I am
more excited.
More excited than you can understand,” I choked the words out without crying.

“Want to celebrate?” he laughed.

I nodded.

“What do you want to drink?” he asked.

“Water,” I responded, “make it a double,” I added.

“Wow, you are excited,” he chuckled as he stood.

“Hug me,” he said.

I stood from my chair and turned to face him, holding my arms out to the side. As he pulled me close to him, I felt his hands pressing against my back. I wrapped my arms around him. I buried my face in his shirt and inhaled. Faint, but it smelled like him. I inhaled again and relaxed, allowing him to hold me in his arms. He nestled his head beside mine, and moved my hair behind my ear. His breath against my face startled me.

“Who owns you baby girl? Who do you belong to?” he whispered into my ear.

“Erik fucking Ead,” I mumbled into his shirt.

I pulled my face from his shirt and looked up into his eyes.

“Erik fucking Ead,” I repeated proudly.

ERIK.
Letting go of the past doesn’t mean that you release all your memories or thoughts associated with the events of or in the past. Retaining all of the memories, yet releasing the
grip
may be the key to succeeding. Brushing my teeth was routine for me. The same stance, same manner, and same location every morning. As I dropped my toothbrush into the holder, I closed my eyes. At
that
moment, to some degree, I released the grasp on a good portion of my past.

My phone beeped, indicating that I had received a text message as I was brushing. I rinsed and walked into the kitchen to see what the message was.

When I picked up my phone, I was a little shocked. Shocked and full of wonder.

Contrary to the depictions on television and some movies, none of the member
s of the club, to the best of my knowledge, carried a throw-away phone. I’ve been around countless clubs, some of which are outlaw clubs, and I have yet to see a thow-away type phone used. This was good in the movies, but in
my
life, it didn’t exist.

We did, however, have certain things that we did, or agreed to do, to minimize our risk in our use of electronic devices for communication.

If we ever received a one word text from another club member, and that text depicted a location, it meant that we were to get there as soon as possible to meet. Additionally, the content of that meeting was something that could not be discussed over the phone.

My text message was from Teddy, and it was one word.

“
Parking garage
.”

I quickly got dressed, in the car, and drove to the parking garage at the Warren theatre. I parked the car on the roof, got out and waited for Teddy. I leaned over the edge of the roof and watched traffic driving into Old Town Square. As I saw his truck enter the parking lot below, I leaned back away from the edge of the roof. I looked at the concrete deck where I had parked. I was mere feet from where Kelli made mincemeat out of her knees earlier in the summer. I chuckled out loud and retained a little bit of a smile on my face when Teddy pulled onto the upper deck.

Teddy pulled his truck onto the roof and parked it beside my car.

As he got out, I could see the distress on his face.

“What the fuck, brother?” I asked as I approached him.

“Well,” he said as he walked up to where I was standing, “probably a pretty dumb question asking you if you read the paper this morning ain’t it?”

“You know I don’t read the paper, why? What was in it?” I asked.

Teddy took a breath, put his hands on his knees, and exhaled.

“Well, fuck Teddy, say it,” I begged.

“He’s dead. Dead as absolute fuck,” he said as he stood erect and pressed his chest out.

“God damn, brother, what happened? Who? You need somewhere to stay?”

“No, goddamn, I didn’t kill anybody.
Slick.
He’s dead. Shot in the head. Guess he lives…well he
lived
out in the country, by that lake outside of Augusta.”

“Holy shit.
Need I ask who did it?”

“That’s just it, they have no idea. No bullet. No weapon. No suspects,” Teddy said as he raised his eyebrows.

“A-Train?” I asked.

“Train sure ain’t
braggin’, so if it was him he ain’t sayin’ so,” Teddy  said as he shook his head.

“Well, fuck,” I shook my head and walked in a circle.

“Well, if it
was
him, this damn sure isn’t his first. For fucks sake, he killed who knows how many in that damned war,” I continued.

“Yeah, probably wouldn’t bother him one ounce to shoot that prick either,” Teddy admitted.

“Well, I didn’t tell you, but at the bar-b-que, Train was eye balling Slick by the beer kegs. Shake ran up to me and asked me to settle A-Train down. I barely, and I do mean barely got Train away from Slick without him snapping,” I said, turning and walking back toward Teddy.

“No shit?”

“Yeah, no shit. It was about,” I paused and thought, “it was right before you left. We went outside to talk to Bone about it. Shake, Easter Bunny and I,” I said, nodding my head.

“Well, only real
concern
is this. Now we got all the problems that we tried avoiding before. You know with the club,” Teddy reminded me.

“Fuck, true. Yeah, well,
shit.
May bring some questions to the members. Probably, all told, won’t be
that
bad, though. Hell, really it won’t be much at all.
We
didn’t do anything. The
club
didn’t do it,” I pleaded.

“Tell the fuckin’ cops that,” Teddy laughed.

“Well, Bone knows all those detectives and half the beat cops. Hell, you and I know half the beat cops,” I said, thinking of all of the officers that rode bikes.

Over the years, although we weren’t friends, we had become friendly with two local and one national police motorcycle club. It seemed like a contradiction of terms, but
there were actually police motorcycle clubs. The only catch was that you either had to be active or retired law enforcement.

For the most part, this made association with these police clubs off-limits. They certainly felt the same way about associating with us. We were, however, friendly to them, and they were friendly in return.

“Well, fuck,” Teddy said, “I’m nervous as a whore in church.”

“Shit, Crash, you didn’t do a damn thing, you don’t have to worry,” I said, trying to digest what had happened, while making him feel better.

“Easy to say, Doc. Tough to do, but easy to say,” he responded.

“Well, shit. So what did the paper say?” I asked.

“Said his name. Dave somethin’ or other,” he put his hand on his face and looked up at the sky, “Daniels. Dave Daniels, thirty-four, if I remember right. Said that he was shot in the damned head in his driveway. One bullet hole. Didn’t say all that powder burn shit or any CSI crap, so don’t know if it was a long range shot, or if someone capped his ass right there. You know, that show will damned near teach a fella how to kill someone, you ever seen it?” he asked.

“What?” I asked, puzzled.

“CSI, the T.V. show, it’ll give a guy some damned fine details about being a criminal, or gettin’ caught. Guess it just depends on what side you’re on,” he laughed.

“Oh,” he continued, “said the
suspected
time of day of the death. Was, uhhmm, yeah, get this – uhhmm, approximately 8:08 p.m. Doc, what the fuck is
approximate
about 8:08 p.m.?” he asked, laughing.

“Shit, that’s pretty definitive,” I chuckled.

“Yeah, it said if you’ve seen anyone in the area on or about that time, call this number. And they gave a number to call,” he said.

“Huh. Well, sounds like they know
something
,” I said, wondering about the entire event.

“Well, watch your back, who knows what might come of this,” Teddy said.

“Always do, brother,” I said, “always do.”

As I pulled down the ramp,
The Heavy, How Do You Like Me Now
started playing. I turned up the volume and smiled.

I like this song.

And dead Slick or no dead Slick, I was just in a damned good mood.

KELLI.
Loving someone is easy. When the point in time comes that it happens, you don’t wonder, you know. Love isn’t questioned, and love certainly isn’t
developed
. I really don’t care what anyone says.

Love just is
.

Love just happens, and there isn’t a damned thing you can do about it.

Love has the ability to take away your breath or breathe life into you. Love has the capacity to make you feel as small as an infant or as tall as a giant. Love is a magnificent gift.

Love is. Well, love just
is
. Love cannot be defined. I am in love.

Don’t tell anyone.

Not a soul.

“You. Are. A. Pig.”

“You skinny little bitch, kiss my ass,” Heather responded.

“Seriously. I am half finished with my salad, and that Philly cheesesteak is
gone
. Fries,
gone
, and you’ve had two beers,” I said as I pointed my fork at Heather’s plate.

“Listen, I was hungry, I told you that. I was famished,” she said as she licked her fingers.

“I guess so,” I laughed as I took another bite of salad.

“All Teddy and I do is fuck. That’s it. We haven’t watched T.V., went out to eat, or anything. He cooks most of the time, which is so nice. He’s a pretty good cook for real. He made steaks in the oven in a cast iron skillet the other night, and they were so good. The entire house got smoky, but they were stupid good. Better than anywhere in town,” she said as she pushed her plate to the side.

“You’re going to be as big as a house in about six months if you don’t watch it,” I said as I stabbed another perfect bite of salad and chicken.

“Do I look fat?” Heather said, pointing up and down the length of her body with her fingertips.

I poked the salad in my mouth and shook my head.

“Seriously, do I?”

With my fork in my hand, I pointed to my full mouth as I chewed, still shaking my head.

“Swallow it. I know you can swallow, so swallow it,” she said angrily.

I swallowed the bite of salad, “Listen, that’s enough with the cock sucking jokes. That’s over.”

“Well, stop with the fat jokes,” she said as she stood.

“Do I look fat?” she asked again as she rotated slowly.

Surprisingly, she looked fabulous. She was, again, dressed in slacks, and a nice shirt. The shirt was a crew neck, instead of one with a plunging neckline. She had a fairly flat stomach, and her face looked healthy. While looking at her face, I couldn’t help but notice her hair. It was a
little
darker, but not dark. For once, it truly looked fantastic.

“Not at all.
Okay, joking aside. You look fantastic. And your hair, it’s great. When did you get it done?” I asked as I forked another bite.

“Uhhm, well it was a cancel on that Thursday, and then the poker run, uhhm, I guess it was like day before yesterday. Something, I don’t know. Like three days ago,” she was still rotating.

“Take a seat, princess, you look wonderful,” I said as I pointed to her seat with my fork.

She performed a perfect curtsy and sat in her chair.

“Exciting about you and Erik, huh?” she said as she looked over both of her shoulders.

“Nothing to be excited about, nothing’s changed. It’s exactly the same. We’re not in love, I don’t love him, and he doesn’t love me. We’re just
together
,” I said defensively.

“Whoa, don’t get mad, just asking. Well, that’s weird. So, you’re committed, like
dating.
You’re together, and you don’t
love
him?” she asked.

“Nope,” I answered as I pushed my salad aside.

“You’re not going to finish that?” she asked, pointing to my salad plate.

“Nope, not hungry any more.
I’m full,” I responded.