The Biker's Heart (6 page)

Boon can take responsibility for that, at least,
I thought, my last conscious thought before the purr of the engine and the gentle rock of the car down the dirt road lulled me off to sleep.

“
We should go to the police first.”

“
There will be cops at the hospital.”

“
Yeah, but they’re just going to want to take her in, anyway.”

“
At least this gives her a little more time to prepare. And she needs to see that her dad’s okay.”

I woke up to the sound of Alicia and Becky arguing quietly. Their hushed tones drifted into my brain before I fully woke up, when I was still in a dreamland where none of this had happened. The reality came crashing down once I made out just what they were saying. We were parked in a Dunk’n Donuts parking lot, and I could see by the time that I’d been out for a little under an hour. I still felt exhausted.

“
Guys,” I murmured, sleepily, from the backseat. “I want to see Dad.”

Alicia and Becky both turned to look at me, their faces grim. I was dazed but certain: before anything else, I wanted to see my Daddy. I wanted to look him in the eyes, know that he was okay, and apologize for everything.

“
Okay,” Becky said. I could tell, from listening to their voices in my half-sleep, that she had been the one arguing to take me straight to the police. I was glad she was willing to drop the debate as soon as I put my two cents in.

“
How are you doing?” Alicia asked, reaching out and grabbing my knee.

“
Awful,” I said, tears pressing behind my eyes again. Where did all this water in my body keep coming from? I was parched, and I was sure that by now I’d be too dehydrated to cry. “Do you have any water?”

Becky handed me back a half-empty bottle and I guzzled it quickly; the action not only helped my thirst but gave me something to do so I didn’t have to keep sitting under Becky and Alicia’s concerned gazes. I loved them, and I loved them for being there, but the way they were looking at me certainly wasn’t helping the fact that I felt so awful. The good thing about best friends, though, is that you can
tell
them things like that, and they’ll listen.

“
Guys, please stop looking at me like I’m a wounded bird. I mean, I know, I’m a mess, I don’t need you to remind me,” I said, my voice sounding more pitiful than I wanted.

“
You’re right, you’re right, of course. Let’s just go. Let’s get you to your dad,” Alicia said, turning around in her seat. She swatted at Becky, who was still looking at me, until she turned around and turned the key. We pulled out of the lot slowly and began to drive towards the hospital; I watched the mini-malls and business offices along the street as they passed, thinking that everyone in them was having a normal day in their normal lives and that they had no idea how quickly all that could change.

“
Do you want to talk about it?” Becky asked, peering at me in the rear-view window. I shook my head no, but then realized I
did
want to talk about it. Or, more accurately, I wanted to
hear
about it.

“
I don’t want to talk, but will you tell me what’s going on? What do you know?”

Alicia and Becky exchanged a look, then both looked at me in the rearview.

“
Not much,” Alicia said. “Your dad was shot trying to get into the house. In the arm. He’s okay, he’s totally fine. He probably won’t even have a wonky arm or anything after it heals. Your mom was already home when he got there and…well, that’s about it. The whole crew booked it after your dad got shot, and they’re not telling us anything else. We don’t even know if they know where the bikers are. I mean, they can’t exactly be
hiding
anywhere, you know? It’s like fifteen guys on bikes, they can’t get too far without someone noticing.”

“
Yeah, they’re gonna find them in no time, Sammy,” Becky added, her voice a few octaves short of convincing.

“
They won’t be on bikes anymore,” I murmured, remembering what Boon had told me.

“
What makes you say that?” Becky asked, turning back to me, this time with a curious look on her face.

“
Boon told me. They’d ditch the bikes and then take vans,” I said, looking out the window, letting the information wash over me.

“
And you trust him? After everything, you trust that little shit? How do you know he wasn’t just saying that to…” Becky’s tirade was cut short by a quick elbow jab from Alicia.

“
Becky, you snot, do you really think now’s a good time to talk like that? I mean, really, you talk about
me
being insensitive,” Alicia said.

“
It’s okay,” I whispered, tears coming anew as I thought about Boon and how I’d trusted him, how I’d taken him into my home…

“
No, it’s not, Sammy. I’m sorry. You don’t need to worry about that. Let’s just get you to your dad, okay?”

I nodded, still looking out the window. Every minute that I was in that car was a minute my mother was tied up with a bunch of thugs. Every minute that had passed for her since she got home must have been pure torture and misery. I wished I was dead, or better yet, had never been born.

Finally, the broad white walls of the hospital came into view. After a brief nightmare to find a parking space, we all clamored out of the car and Alicia and Becky flanked me, each holding one of my hands, as we entered the ER. Nurses and doctors and patients ran hither and thither as we walked towards the desk; the chaos and disorder seemed well-suited to my mood, but it made my headache worse.

I let Becky talk to the nurse, who pointed us down a long hallway. I could see, towards the end of the hallway, a group of three cops standing around in a semi-circle, arms crossed, heads down. My heart began to race as Alicia led me through the doors and down the hall.

Everything was so white and clean and bright. I remember, vividly, being made nauseous by the fluorescence of everything. Nothing in the world felt clean, or bright, at that moment, and it made me irrationally angry that the hospital was so spic-and-span. I felt that, for as long as my mother was gone and my father was in pain, everything else should look dirty and miserable.

The cops straightened up as I approached; they recognized me, and I recognized a few of them, vaguely. One, a young man I knew because he was sort of my dad’s protégé on the force, walked towards me, arms out. I withdrew, not sure I wanted to hug him, but eventually let myself into the folds of his arms. His name was Kevin, and I knew that of the people who would be trying to stomp the Cold Steel Motorcycle Club into the ground, he’d be one of the most fervent.

“
I’m so sorry, Samantha.” he said, rubbing his hand up and down my back. I sniffled into his crisp blue shirt. He pulled away, shaking his head. “Go on in and see him. Then we will need you to come in and make a statement. I know, it’s going to be hard, but it could help a lot to have your input. Take your time, though. I’ll be waiting right here for you when you’re done, and I’ll take you down to the station myself.”

“
Can’t Alicia and Becky take me?” I asked, gesturing to my friends, who were standing a little bit behind us. I couldn’t imagine what would happen to me without them; they were, really, the only things that were keeping me from having a full-on breakdown. Kevin nodded.

“
Of course. But you’ll be talking to me at the station, okay? So don’t worry. We’re going to take care of everything,” he said. I was grateful, now, that he was there. I had always liked Kevin, and it was good to have one more person I could trust on my side. Not that the entire police force and, probably, the whole city wasn’t on my side; but it’s different when you
know
someone is fighting for you.

I almost couldn’t go into the room on my own. I stood outside the door, chewing my lip, ready to break into sobs any second, trying to find the words to say when I finally saw my father. How could I ever tell him just how sorry I was for not listening to him in the first place? He had been right; of course he had been right. Aren’t fathers always right?

Finally, I pushed the door open. The sobs that had been hiding came out to play, and I wailed when I saw him sitting up and looking at me, his face furrowed with concern.

“
Daddy! I’m so sorry!” I cried, rushing to his side. I wanted to hug him, but when I saw the sling around his arm I worried about hurting him.

“
Baby, Samantha, stop, it’s okay, I’m okay!”

“
No, you’re not! You got shot and Mom got taken and it’s all my fault!”

“
It’s not, baby, it’s not your fault. None of this is your fault, I promise,” my father said, reaching out to stroke my chin with the back of his hand. The contact stilled me almost instantly. “It’s not, baby, really.”

“
But…but…” I said, sniffling.

“
No buts. It’s not your fault. It’s not even that boy’s fault. They were wearing masks, Samantha, but I know he wasn’t there. It was that father. He kept asking for him…for Boon. But that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, Sammy. I’m going to be fine, and we’re going to find your mother, and she’ll be fine too. I can leave here tomorrow, they said. And Mom will be home by then, in good hands, and it’ll all be okay. Just like a bad dream.”

I stared into my father’s eyes as he spoke, praying that I would see only the strong, confident man I’d grown to trust so much over the course of my life. But there was something else under the knowing façade he was putting up. He
didn’t
know any of that, and I could tell, just under the surface, that he had doubts about everything he was saying.

Well of course he has doubts, moron, his wife is currently missing, in the hands of a gang of violent bikers,
I thought to myself, scolding myself for expecting my father to be brave when it was him, not me, that got shot in the arm.

“
Have you spoken to the police yet?” he asked.

“
No, not yet,” I said, my voice regaining some semblance of control. Talking to my father
had
made me feel worlds better, even if I knew he was just saying things he didn’t believe in order to make me stop crying.

“
Go. Talk to them. Any information you can give them will do a lot more good than keeping me company,” he said, his voice turning stern. I knew that he wanted me to talk to the cops so they could find my mother quicker, but the thought of leaving him now was impossible.

“
Daddy, please, just a few more minutes,” I said, silent tears brimming. If I’d thought seeing my father cry was bad, seeing him in that bed, with the sling around his arm, was a million times worse.

“
Of course, baby,” he said, reaching out to cup my chin. His eyes softened. “I didn’t mean to rush you out.”

“
I stole a car,” I suddenly blurted out. I still don’t know why I chose that particular time to come clean with that. Maybe it was just part of an overall purging process as I tried to deal with everything that had happened. I was amazed when Dad broke into a grin and chuckled slightly.

“
Did you now?”