Renegade (2013) (12 page)

“Do you think I can make a difference in my daughter’s family? Even from in here?”

“You already have, Darnell. Deshondra wants me to fight for you as hard as I can, and I promised that I would. I don’t go back on promises. If I have to, I’ll quit working for you and work for her; I’ll fight you if I have to.”

Darnell chuckled. “You like a good fight?”

“No, but I’ve never run from one either. And if you want to know if that’s an idle threat, Deshondra’s waiting outside to tell you the same thing.”

“She is?”

Heath nodded. “She wanted to come in with me. I asked her to let me talk to you first, see if we couldn’t come to some agreement.”

Darnell huffed, but Heath could see it was resignation, not resistance. “All right, Counselor. Do the best that you can do to get my sentence commuted.”

Heath offered his hand, smiling broadly. “I will. That’s going to be easier to sell than selling it to you.”

Darnell wrapped both hands around Heath’s, holding him tight. “I gotta warn you of something, Counselor.”

“What?”

“You went to the Bible to find an argument for me, an’ maybe you’re feeling pretty good about that, but I want you to know that anytime you go into the Good Book for your own purposes, God’s Word has got a way of seeping into you. Whether you want it or not, you’re gonna be changed. I know that for a fact. Seen it happen. My best advice is to accept what’s coming.”

“Sure.” Heath stood and went to the door to summon the guard to bring Deshondra into the room, but Darnell’s confident tone haunted him and he felt a chill. He told himself it was just the air-conditioning cycling on, that he’d stepped into the path of the vent, but something he couldn’t put words to nagged at him.

“PIKE, YOU GOT COMPANY, AMIGO.”

Shoving the starter aside from underneath the vehicle, Pike gazed up through the front end of the Chrysler sedan at Monty, who was removing the radiator fan. The Chrysler had come in needing a ring job and had to turn around quick. They were double-teaming the car to get it out by five.

Face covered in sweat and grease, Monty nodded toward the front of the garage.

Sliding around on the creeper, Pike twisted his head so he could see the garage doors.

Hector stood there holding his bike and looking apprehensive. His backpack was slung over his shoulder, heavy with books.

Pike hadn’t seen him since the fight in the diner. Given everything that had happened, Pike figured Hector’s mom had told the boy to stay away from the garage for a while. For a moment, Pike stayed on the creeper and looked back at Hector. Usually, once the boy was certain that he or Monty knew he was there, he would come on in. They had rules about him walking around the cars and the equipment and he understood them.

Hector didn’t budge. Behind him, out on the street, cars whisked by.

Monty spoke softly. “He ain’t coming in.”

“Why?”

“If you wanna know, you’re gonna have to ask him.” Monty flicked his eyes up to the front of the garage. “You wait too long, he’ll pull up stakes and go. Whatever’s bothering him? It’s bothering him pretty hard.”

For a minute, Pike thought he’d just let it go. If Hector wanted to bug out, that was his business. He wasn’t going to stop him.

Monty fitted a wrench onto one of the tappet covers and started cranking. “You know I don’t make a habit out of telling you how to run your business, Pike—”

Monty seemed to be saying that a lot lately. Maybe it
was
turning into a habit. “And I’ve always appreciated that about you.”

“—but that kid wants to talk to you something fierce, and whatever’s on his mind is holding him back.”

“Might be better for him if he stopped coming around.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Monty twisted a screw free of the housing with more effort than was required. “He’s just a kid, right? He knows what’s good for him. And it don’t matter if he gets his heart broke.”

“I ain’t done nothing to him.”

Monty shrugged. “Doesn’t matter anyway. He’s gone.”

Pike glanced at the bay doors and saw that they were empty. Cursing, he tossed his wrench aside and slid out from under the car. He got to his feet and jogged to the front of the garage.

Fifteen feet from the bay doors, Hector was walking his bike to the corner.

Pike took a red rag from his pocket and wiped his hands. Looking at Hector walking beside his bike with his head hanging down made Pike think of all the kids in the orphanage who’d gotten busted up, who no longer believed that they’d get adopted by a family and know
what it was like to have a mom and dad. When he spoke, he had to push through the thickness at the back of his throat.

“Hey. Hector.”

The boy paused and looked back over one narrow shoulder. He seemed uncertain and troubled.

“You got a flat tire?”

Hector shook his head.

“Chain slipping?”

Another head shake.

“You got homework?”

“Not today.”

“Okay, then maybe you got time to drink a soda?”

For the first time in a long time, Hector hesitated. That pause hit Pike like a hard right cross.

“Look . . . Hector . . . if something’s wrong, maybe I can help.”

The boy ducked his head, and for a moment Pike thought he was just going to push on and walk away from him. Before he knew what he was doing, Pike was walking toward Hector. When he reached the boy, he knelt down on the other side of the bicycle, giving Hector his space, not invading his bubble.

“What’s going on, buddy?” Seeing the pain written on the boy’s face, Pike felt himself grow cold and still inside.

Tears glimmered in Hector’s eyes, and his voice was a hoarse whisper. “You hit that man so hard.”

“I know. I did.”

“He was all bloody. I thought you had killed him.”

Pike shook his head, looking into the boy’s eyes. “I didn’t kill him.”

“You’re a soldier. A Marine.”

“Yeah.”

“You kill people.”

Unwilling to lie to the boy, Pike nodded. “Sometimes I do.”

Hector’s shoulders trembled. “I know about the war. I see it on television. I know that you have to kill men over there so they do not kill you.”

“Or my friends, yeah. That’s the way war works, kid.”

“That night in the diner, that was not war, Mr. Pike.”

“No, no, it wasn’t. But that man hurt that woman, and he pulled a knife on me. You didn’t want her to go on being hurt, did you? Because I’ve seen men like him. Once they start hurting somebody, they can’t hardly give it up.”

“I know. I have seen such men.” A tear trickled down Hector’s cheek. “That night, when I saw you, I saw such a man in you. I didn’t think I would ever see it. Not in you.”

Pike took in a breath and let it out. He stopped kneeling and sat down, draping his arms over his knees, looking at the boy on the other side of the bicycle that had become a barrier between them. He wondered if Hector wanted the bike there as a defense.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Hector. Truly, I am. You see enough bad things in this neighborhood.” Although Pike was sorry about it, he also knew that the situation with the woman in the diner could have gotten much worse. The man had been out of control.

“You just kept hitting him.”

“I didn’t kill him. That was my choice.”

“You are a violent man.”

Pike nodded. “I have been. I try not to be these days. But violence is what I know best.”

“Because of juvie?”

Pike frowned. “Part of it’s from juvie, but part of it—” He shook his head, feeling the afternoon heat baking into him as he sat on the concrete skirt. “Part of it’s just who I am.”

The boy wiped the tears from his face. “I’m afraid.”

Shock poured like cold acid through Pike’s stomach. “Of me?”

Hector shook his head. “Not you. I don’t think you would ever hurt me. Not this part of you, but now I know that there is another part.”

“I wouldn’t. I promise.” Pike had to resist reaching out to the boy, but he knew that would be the wrong move.

“I’m also afraid that I will never get to see you again.”

“Why?”

“Because my mother will learn about the fight at the diner, she will learn that I was there, and then she will tell me I have to stay away from you.”

Pike put on a smile he didn’t feel, but he did it to relax the boy. “You’re probably right about that. I was never the kid moms wanted their kids to play with.” He shifted, sitting up a little straighter. “I’ll tell you something else.”

“What?”

“Your mom shouldn’t learn about the fight from gossip in the laundry mat. You need to tell her.”

“I know. I know that would be the right thing to do, but I don’t want to.”

“Something like this, Hector, you don’t want to hide from your mom. It’ll only make things worse.”

“How do you know? You didn’t have a mom.”

“No, I didn’t.” Pike gazed into those liquid brown eyes. “But if I had a kid, I wouldn’t want him to hide something like this from me. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s why you have to tell your mom.”

“And if she tells me to stay away?”

“You’ll stay away. You’ll do what she says. That’s how it will be.”

Hector nodded glumly.

“You’ll do it tonight. When she gets home. You’ve worried about this by yourself for too long. All right?”

“Yes. I will.”

Effortlessly, Pike stood and looked down at the boy. “How about that soda?”

“No thank you. I have to get home. There are things my mom asked me to do. If I am going to tell her about that night, it would be better if I had those things done.”

“Sounds good. How about a soda for the road, then?”

“All right.”

Pike went back into the garage and got a can of soda. Hector followed him as far as the garage entrance, took the soda, and said adios. Pike watched the boy to make sure he made it safely across the street even though he’d been doing it on his own for a long time.

Returning to the job at hand, Pike lay on the creeper and slid under the car.

Monty wiped sweat from his face with his arm and looked down at Pike. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Hector’s mom doesn’t know about the fight at the diner. Kid’s afraid she’ll have a cow.”

“Any self-respecting mother would.”

“Yeah.”

“There’s nothing you could have done about it, Pike. It was what it was.”

“I know.” As he worked, Pike thought about what the garage would be like without Hector coming around. He didn’t like the feeling. He tried to tell himself that he could do without the interruptions and the homework and the constant need to watch his language.

“Surprising how much a kid can get under your skin, isn’t it?”

“He’s not under my skin.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Pike focused on removing the header and pushed everything else out of his mind. That only lasted for a while.

On Tuesday morning, Pike got up to go to the airport. He showered and dressed; then he shaved his beard growth off, got his face slick and clean, and stared at his face in the mirror. His hair was a lot shorter, courtesy of a visit to the barber a few blocks over who kept his shop open till seven, and there was a shadow of untanned flesh close to his hair.

He looked squared away, Marine ready, and he felt that call to battle dawning within him. That was where he lived, out there where the good guys could be told from the bad guys because they wore different uniforms.

For the most part. There were always surprises.

Get moving, Pike. The sooner you’re shut of this place, the happier you’re gonna be. The last thing you need is a bunch of confusion in your head.

His sleep had been troubled last night. Normally before he shipped out, he slept like a baby. Trying to live around other people in the neighborhood was harder than living with Marines, though that was hard enough.

He’d stayed up late watching Charlie Sheen in
Beyond the Law
. That movie was one he and Petey had liked. None of the Hollywood movies ever really got what being a biker meant, but that one was close. And they’d liked Brian Bosworth in
Stone Cold
.

On his way through the apartment, he checked everything again. It was weird having a house. He and Petey had just flopped in several places, never staying anywhere too long, keeping one step ahead of the biker gangs, the police, and the jealous women. They’d made their own way, and there hadn’t been anything to take care of but their bikes.

That was better than this.
Pike told himself that as he checked to make sure the windows were locked. He didn’t have anything in the
apartment he was particularly attached to, but he didn’t like the idea of coming back off a tour and discovering someone had ransacked his place either.

His clothes were all washed. Everything he’d worn last night was clean and put away. He shut the door behind him, engaging all the locks, and headed down the stairs with his duffel over his shoulder.

Out on the street, he walked toward the corner, intending to splurge and take a taxi to the airport. His truck was safely locked up at the garage. The air was clean and fresh, carrying just a hint of a chill with it.

He’d almost reached the corner when he heard his name called out.

“Pike!
Pike
!
”

Turning, Pike saw Hector riding his bike toward him. The boy rode swiftly and didn’t brake in time. Pike had to step back and grab the handlebars to keep Hector from crashing into him.

“I thought I had missed you.” Hector looked up at Pike and clambered off the bicycle.

“I thought you were gonna run over me.”

Hector shook his head and adjusted his backpack. His eyes took in Pike’s duffel. “You’re leaving.”

“Got called up again. I’ll be gone a few months.”

“You’ll be back?”

That was one of the things that had bothered Pike. With all the stress over living in Tulsa, it would be easier to just leave. There wasn’t anything here that he couldn’t walk away from. Even Monty had shaken his hand and told him good-bye like he was never going to see him again.

Or maybe he was just thinking I was gonna eat a bullet.

“When I can.” It was as close to a noncommittal answer as Pike could give without lying.

“I talked to my mom last night.”

“That’s good.” Pike’s gut clenched a little.

“She was upset.”

“Under the circumstances, I think that’s understandable.”

“I know. She told me she didn’t like it that I was there when it happened, but she told me she understood, that it was good that a man like you would stand up for a woman and help her.”

That surprised Pike.

“I also told her about the way you hit that man, the way you kept hitting him, and I thought you were going to kill him. I told her I became very afraid.”

Pike didn’t say anything.

“My mom says she has known men like you. Men who sometimes get lost. She says sometimes they get lost because of war, like she said her father did in the Vietnam War, and sometimes they just get lost because they never find their way.”