Authors: C. C. Davenport
Desolation: Betrayed: Motorcycle Romance (Sons of Desolation Motorcycle Club Mystery Series Book 2) (4 page)
“I invited her and before you say anything,” I said raising my hand, “She apologized to Nat yesterday and Nat didn’t have any problem with her being here.”
The ladies shrugged and Jesse said, “Whatever, but I don’t want to have anything to do with the bitch.”
Callie had burned a lot of bridges. But it wasn’t the women I worried about. It was a club member.
Before long everyone was served and I grabbed a plate of food and went to sit with Merci and Nat. Bruce sat with Elijah and I knew they had a lot to talk about so he shouldn’t miss me for the time being. As I walked to Merci’s table I noticed Callie wasn’t there.
I sat my plate on the table and asked, “Where’s Callie?”
“She went to the restroom,” Merci answered.
“I better go check on her,” I said. I didn’t like her being alone without one of us with her. She was in a den of lions with this group, but she’d brought it upon herself. Still, I needed her in one piece.
As I walked into the restroom I noticed one of the stalls was occupied.
“Callie…you in here?” I asked. I looked down at the floor and noticed blood trickling out from under the used stall door. I ran over and looked under the door. I could see Callie sitting upright next to the toilet. One arm was flung over the seat and blood covered the front of her blouse from the cut on her throat. I crawled under the stall door, rubbing her blood into the skirt and blouse I wore to the burial. I tore off the matching jacket and held it to her neck wound. She looked at me with large frightened eyes. I thought she was a goner, but miraculously the hemorrhaging started to subside. I unlocked the stall door then grabbed her around the waist while keeping the jacket plastered to her wound. I had to get her out of here and get help.
I’m strong, but the girl was dead weight. I yelled for help, but no one could hear me. I got to the restroom door and before I could grab the handle, the door opened. Dry Heave, one of the club members stood in front of us.
“What the hell happened?” He said looking at the blood covering the both of us.
“We need help! Go get Bruce and Elijah!” I yelled. At that moment I looked at Callie’s face and saw the terror in her eyes. Her mouth moved but nothing came out. It didn’t have to. I knew. I looked back at Dry Heave and screamed, “What the fuck you waiting for?”
I could tell he didn’t want to go, but he did. If it had been Bruce or Elijah I would have them carry her upfront, but no way was I letting him touch her. I dragged Callie the best I could until a bunch of people came running down the hall. Someone already called 911 but I didn’t know if she’d last until then. Luckily I was wrong. The girl had determination and fortunately the slice to the neck only nicked an artery.
Once Callie was safely in the ambulance I grabbed Bruce, Cig, Elijah and Merci and pulled them aside.
“It was Dry Heave,” I whispered to them.
“What are you talking about?” Eli said.
“He killed Frito, made it look like a rival gang did it, and just now tried to kill Callie,” I said.
“Did she tell you that?” Cig asked.
“She didn’t have to,” I answered. “The terror in her eyes said it all.”
“Lila, are you sure you aren’t imagining things. That was quite a horrific scene in the restroom,” Bruce responded.
“You know me better than that,” I said feeling a little dejected.
Bruce looked deep into my eyes and he knew as well. “I think we better get Dry Heave into the meeting room and see what the hell is going on,” Bruce said. That’s my man.
Everyone was in clusters talking about what just transpired. We searched but couldn’t find Dry Heave anywhere inside the building so we took off outside. We found Dry walking towards his bike in the parking lot. Bruce called to him to wait up but he didn’t turn around, just kept walking. Suddenly Nat appeared, walking out from the hardware store where she had gone to get some bleach to clean up the blood. I yelled for her to go back, but she couldn’t understand me.
All of us ran but it was too late. Dry Heave grabbed her around the neck, positioning himself between her and us.
“Let her go!” Eli yelled.
“Dry, what are you doing?” Nat pleaded.
“Stay away from me!” Dry Heave was like a caged animal. His eyes were like steel. Why hadn’t we seen this side of him before?
“You saw what happened to Callie. I can do it to Nat if you don’t back up,” he screamed.
A knife poked at Nat’s throat. I could see the terror in her eyes. It was the same look Callie had. Suddenly I saw Merci in the hardware store’s back doorway holding a metal bucket. She had accompanied Nat to the store. Now she saw what was taking place and slowly put down the metal bucket. She slid back into the store unnoticed by Dry Heave.
“Dry, just let go of Nat and we can all sit down and talk this out,” Bruce yelled trying to keep him calm.
“I’m not stupid Bruce! I know the code!” Dry yelled back.
“If there are circumstances we can listen to them. I’m sure you had your reasons. You know us, we’re reasonable men, we can work something out,” Bruce pleaded.
By now the ruckus had brought other members out of the clubhouse. They were in shock to see Dry holding Nat hostage. Suddenly I saw Merci slinking back out of the hardware store. She held a hammer in her hand. I didn’t want either one of the girls to get hurt and my heart pounded for what she was about to do. Dry had no idea Merci was sneaking up behind him. She lifted the hammer high in the air. Just as she did, Dry turned his head around.
Down came the hammer smashing into his nose and cheekbone. He cried out and loosened his grasp on Nat who ran. Eli ran to her and held her close as she shook in his arms. Dry crumpled to the ground, dropped the knife, and held his face with both hands. Merci lifted the hammer again, but Bruce and Cig grabbed her.
“You did good babe,” Cig said as he took the hammer from her hand.
“I wasn’t going to let him hurt Nat,” she said.
“That’s my girl…now let the club take care of the rest of it,” Cig said as he guided her back to the clubhouse.
Bruce and some of the other members took hold of Dry and brought him back to the meeting room. They sat him in a chair where the interrogation would take place. They shut the door as the rest of us gathered around Nat. I wanted to take her to the hospital but she insisted she was fine. Stubborn girl, but that’s why I liked her. I made her some warm cocoa, her favorite, to help soothe her nerves.
The rest of us old ladies discussed what just occurred and what could be happening inside the church meeting room. Did Dry kill Frito, and if so, why? Evidently he thought Callie knew something, which is why he tried to off her as well. But she didn’t. I felt bad. I used Callie as bait and now she was hurt and almost died. How could I have been so careless? I should have thought it out better. Maybe a part of me didn’t want to believe a member would turn on his own. I couldn’t make excuses for myself. What was done was done and I would make it up to Callie.
After 45 minutes the door to the meeting room opened and Elijah stuck his head out.
“Lila, would you come in here please?” He asked.
Me, go inside during one of their church meetings? Things were getting stranger by the minute.
“Sure,” I said looking at the other old ladies who seemed just as puzzled as I was.
When I entered the room, Dry was sitting in one of the chairs as the rest of the group stood. I went over to stand by Bruce. He looked like someone punched him in the gut. I didn’t know if I wanted to hear what Dry had to say. I didn’t even know why I was in here. But I would soon find out.
The club had Dry repeat the story he told them. I guess he knew there was no going back now and he might as well come clean. As he told his story my knees became weak and I had to sit in one of the chairs. Bruce put his hand on my shoulder and I quickly grabbed it.
Dry’s story started right before Gabe died. Frito, Dry, Gabe and some of the other club members worked on each other’s bikes in the small garage adjacent to the clubhouse. Several of the members were adept in working on motorcycles and if someone had a problem like a leaky gas valve or needed a tune up, one of the guys would work on it for them.
Gabe was having trouble with his bike and didn’t quite know how to fix the problem. He was ready to take it to the dealer’s shop when Dry offered to have a look at it. Since it was a foreign job, not many people knew how to work on them, but Dry had worked at a Suzuki and Yamaha shop years ago and understood how to fix rice burners.
Gabe told him to go crazy and he did. Thing was, Dry didn’t care for my son. I know Gabe could be a cocky little shit, but I figured these burly bikers could manage it, maybe even knock some sense into him. But Dry had something else in mind. He worked on Gabe’s bike, but instead of fixing it he sabotaged it. It would appear the bike was working at first, but when Gabe slowed down suddenly then hit the gas, the bike would sputter. Dry knew Gabe’s obsession with racing the train. He knew about the sharp curve right before crossing the tracks. He knew that Gabe would have to slow down to make the curve then rev up to cross the tracks ahead of the train. Dry knew he was laying the groundwork that would eventually killed my son.
So it hadn’t been an accident. My son’s death was orchestrated by a dimwit who was jealous of a young man. I understood my son had a hand in his own death, but it was hastened by the act of a grown man who was either jealous or evil. I thought it was both.
Normally I’m a strong woman, but I trembled in my seat. Bruce placed both hands on my shoulders in an effort to calm me.
Dry said that in some drunken stupor he told Frito what happened. He didn’t remember telling him, but Frito brought it up a few days later. Frito told him he needed to come clean with the club, and let Bruce and I know. Dry didn’t want to; afraid he’d be stripped of his ink. Frito told him he wouldn’t tell, but kept urging Dry to do so. Finally Dry couldn’t take anymore of Frito’s persistent nagging, and the fear of him ratting him out, and decided to kill him. He made it look like a rival gang killed Frito and tried to lay blame on Callie as the instigator.
I was disgusted and nauseous. How did this man ever become a member of the SODMC?
“Is that it?” I asked Dry.
“I’m sorry Lila…Bruce, I didn’t mean for Gabe to die,” he pleaded.
“Yes you did,” I said in a monotone voice. I stood up and left the meeting room. I heard what I had to hear. The club would vote and we all knew what the outcome would be.
Merci ran over to me as I exited the room. She saw my pale face and asked, “Lila, are you okay? What happened in there?”
“The truth finally came out, about Frito and my boy,” I said sitting down at one of the tables. The old ladies surrounded and comforted me as I retold Dry‘s story. They knew the toll Gabe’s death took on me and Bruce and this bit of news only reopened old wounds.
Dry was never seen again after that day, the club took care of that. Callie was welcomed back to the clubhouse after telling the cops she’d accidentally poked her neck with a knife. I’m sure they didn’t believe it but they let the incident die, not wanting to mix in club business. Callie straightened up after that, even dating one of the prospects.
Nat and Elijah had a baby boy named Trent. He looks like his father.
It took several weeks for Bruce and me to get through the second round of emotions concerning what really happened to our son. But this time we weren’t going to let his death control how we felt for one another. For the first time since Gabe died we made love. It was lovely and took my breath away. It was everything I remembered it was and more. My big burly man with my name tattooed across his chest had come back to me and me to him. It was a long, dark and often lonely road, but eventually our love was able to defeat the sadness and make us whole again.
You can read all my books for free with Kindle Unlimited, including all my latest Motorcycle Club Romance Books:
Our Wicked Ways Series:
Sons of Desolation
Guardians of Chaos Series
Keepers of Bedlam Series:
Also my Biker Erotica Short Story
Taken for a Hard Ride
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