Crash & Burn (2 page)

Nothing that happened that night ruined me or us…. His guilt did that.

Changes

Lil

             
I’ve had enough change in my life recently to last me a goddamn lifetime. I’ve lost
my mom, I found out my psycho ex-boyfriend didn’t really get his brains blown out
and decided to come back to life and kidnap me. Oh, and not to mention being beaten,
shot, and almost dying, but you know what? I move the fuck on. The big change since
is Tank. I want as much normal as I can stand, but he’s made that impossible for me.
I want everything to go back to before that night, but that’s the thing with change,
you can’t control the turn it takes. You can only move forward and hope for the best
as you go.

That night changed me.  It was terrible, painful, and so goddamn scary, but in the
end, I was alive. I’m thankful for every day I get and I will live every fucking second
of it the way I want to. That night could have ended differently, but by some miracle,
it didn’t. I know it affected everyone ‘cause I can see it, feel it, and hear it when
they all look at me, but I push through it. We all do what we have to. We all move
forward and live, except for Tank.

Since being out of the hospital, I moved in with Tank. I thought we would move on
and work toward getting back to our lives together, but instead it’s only become a
daily struggle. I don’t know what else I can possibly do anymore to prove to him that
he couldn’t have prevented any of it, so I push through because I love him.

I started teaching an online college class and tutoring. It's not exactly what I want
to be doing, but it's getting me closer to my end goal. It also gets me out of the
house, the club, and gets me around different people. It stifles the need to head
back to the city. I'm still working the books, and all the paperwork because it has
to be done, at least until I can find someone else I trust to do it for me.
             

Happy and Mini got a divorce. She left him here heartbroken and lonely. He's not the
same man he once was and I hate her for that. I hate that she broke him. He doesn’t
spend much time with me anymore ‘cause he’s usually off on runs, on top of a new club
whore, or sitting at the bar with Leo. I hope he’ll come back soon ‘cause I miss him.

Gin
finally
asked Peaches to marry him and I couldn't be happier. They’ve climbed mountains to
get here. After that night, Gin seemed to make a change. We are now in the throes
of planning a huge biker wedding with Peaches being the bitchy bridezilla I always
knew she would be. She wants flowers and silk, Gin wants leather and beer. I think
we all know Peaches will win the wedding battle.

Arms and Melli had a beautiful baby girl named Chloe. No one knew they were expecting,
not even them. Tag is still looking for Mrs. Right, and his daughter Dallas is here
too. She’s a sweet little thing. Stitch and Cali are the same free loving, wild souls.
Everyone is still living their lives, doing the best they can.

Two prospects have patched in, Kash and Blade. Blade’s fun with his sense of humor
and smart-ass mouth. He's a good guy and fits in with this crowd nicely. I'm still
not sure how I feel about Kash. He doesn't talk much, but Tank says he's loyal, smart,
tough, and all in for his brothers. In Tank’s opinion, that's all that matters to
the guys.

Since they patched in the two prospects, the guys are recruiting for new ones. I'll
never quite understand the allure of being a prospect. It's hard grunt work with little
respect, long, excruciating hours, and pretty much zero down time. I’ve never seen
a prospect “enjoy” being a prospect, but the thing I do get is the brotherhood they’re
working so hard to be a part of. You join the club, you’re joining a family. We’re
as tight as they come and I can see why someone would want to be a part of this, because
this is a family I would love and fight with till my last breath.

One of the biggest changes that’s happened is that Tank has become acting President
of the Hell’s Disciples. My dad is still the President and running everything, but
he wanted Tank to cover the shit he can’t, and for good reason. Shit really unraveled
in the club a month after I came home. Things fell apart, while Tank
tried
to pick up the pieces.

Dad and I were the only people inside the club, which wasn't uncommon during the day.
He found me at the bar going through the alcohol stock orders. I knew the moment he
sat down on the stool next to me that something was wrong. His eyes were haunted and
he looked tired and worn out. Not only that, he looked grim and defeated. I’d been
having a bad feeling for a while now, but when I saw him, I knew something wasn't
right.

He told me he waited until everyone was out ‘cause he didn't want any of the guys
to hear or see. He told me he was tired of running, tired of hiding. Said he missed
mom so much that life just wasn’t worth fighting for without her here. Since she died,
I was all he had left and he knew I didn't need him like I used to. He said Tank would
take care of me, the family, and the club. I couldn't say anything, so I just sat
there and listened.

I was watching my hard as nails, tough guy dad give up. He'd said he’d gotten everything
in order, that everything was handled, and that I would be okay. He'd left money in
the safe at home for me. He put the houses, businesses, bikes and cars in my name.
Said I could do with them what I wanted, but he hoped I'd keep them alive and thriving.
I watched his eyes water as he tried to hold it in. My heart broke for my dad. I waited
for him to just say the words because part of me wanted to hear them, but the other
part was terrified. I watched as he got off the stool to hug me, something he rarely
did.

“I love you, doll face. Always will. Hold this place down for your old man, yeah?”
All I could do was stare at him, a bit in shock. I couldn’t speak so in return, I
could only nod.

With a hard knock on the door, I watched him open it up to Officer Brad Willis and
Sheriff Anderson. That’s when it hit me and everything that he said started to sink
in. I knew what he was doing.

“Mr. Cruz, please come with us. You're under arrest for the murders of Tom Harris,
Mike Sawyer, Ronald Miller, and Joshua Keller.”

I watched my dad put his hands behind his back willingly. That fight he always had
in him was nowhere to be found. I knew he didn't kill Josh, because I did, and as
soon as I opened my mouth to say as much and put a stop to this, he gave me a look
that effectively shut me up. Instead I listened as they read him his rights and cuffed
him. I was speechless and heartbroken, and I’d just lost him too. Both Officer Willis
and Sheriff Anderson gave me a sad nod before ushering my dad through the door in
handcuffs.

“I love you too, Daddy.”

With one final look, he smiled at me and said, “Hold it down around here for me baby.
Keep those boys in check.”

Currently Dad is awaiting trial on four counts of murder in the first degree and a
handful of other charges. Extortion, money laundering, racketeering, possession of
illegal firearms, the illegal distribution and sale of narcotics and firearms, the
list goes on. He’s taking it all. He won’t give up his brothers so all that shit falls
on him. He's facing life, plus two. It’s not looking good and it hasn't gotten easier,
I've just learned to be numb to it. I never knew how much I needed him until he was
gone. I never realized how much I leaned on him for his quiet moral support until
he was no longer there. He was always on my side, just as mom was. Now it’s me and
I need to find a way to be okay with that. I still have the rest of my family and
together we’ll figure all this shit out. We’ll push through ‘cause there is no other
choice.

Club life has slowly kept moving forward with Tank at the helm and my dad still running
thing behind the scenes. I see him trying desperately to keep things normal for everyone.
Even though Tank is a natural leader, I notice he doesn’t seem to want it. I watch
him battle everything in his life right now. It breaks my fucking heart that I can’t
help him, but he won’t let me, he won’t even acknowledge it. He’s not the same man
I met all those months ago. There’s something missing in him now, and all I want is
for him to come back to me. I need him to move on with me.

Loving Tank right now is a struggle. One minute his love is obsessive and needy, to
the point of suffocating. The next, I have to search for it, beg him to give it to
me. He doesn’t hate me. Deep down in his heart I know he loves me, but fuck, it’s
so hard to remember that when he shuts me out. He doesn’t talk to me often, he hardly
even looks at me. When he fucks me, it’s either with desperation or complete vengeance,
like he’s trying to punish the both of us. If it’s not any of these things, he’s not
around at all.

His constant need to push me away hurts worse than anything that happened to me that
night or any other time in my life. It’s been months and things haven’t gotten better,
if anything they’ve gotten worse. I’m thankful every fucking day for
my
life, for my time with my loved ones, and mostly for my time with Tank. But for Tank,
he can’t seem to get past that night. I’m still here, and I plan to fight tooth and
nail to bring him back to me. I will not lose him.

I’ve finally come to the conclusion that he’s the only one who can fix himself. There
is nothing left that I can do. Instead of bitching, complaining, or whining about
it, I just live my life. I stand by him and offer whatever he’ll take from me. I also
remind myself to have patience. He saw something terrible and that will take time
to get over. I go on with my days and act like everything is fine. All I can do is
love him and I do that every goddamn minute of every day.

****

“Hey, bitch.” Peaches chirps and grins wildly at me as soon as I sit my ass down in
her car.

“Why are you cheesin’ at me? You’re kinda freakin’ me out.” She looks like she’s up
to somethin’, and if that’s the case, then trouble will follow soon after. She just
laughs and throws the car in reverse as I stare at her. Pulling out of Tank’s driveway,
she burns rubber like a nut and throws out a deuce when Tank glares at her from the
front door.

“Peaches! What the fuck are you up to?” I implore, throwing an elbow into her side.

She laughs again and says, “Not a damn thing. Just excited to get a new car, girl.”

I’m not sure why she needs a new car in the first place. This one is pretty damn new,
but that’s Peaches for ya.

“So, what kinda car do you want?” Her eyes light up at the question.
             

“Somethin’ pretty n’ shiny, fast n’ expensive.” Peaches says with her high wattage
smile. Gin’s paying, she’s getting something expensive regardless of her need for
it. But if you got it like that, hell, I can’t blame her.

“I’m down for somethin’ fast. I wanna test drive something new too.” I tell her. Her
ass is not hogging up all the new car fun. Hell, I should get me a new car. Something
pretty and sparkly might put that same smile on me that Peaches is wearing. I need
some happy.

“Tank’s still bein’ a fuckin’ moron I take it?” She asks with a cautious sideways
glance. Everyone tiptoes around the topic of Tank and I, but not Peaches. She cuts
right to it. Just hearing his name hits a painfully raw spot in my heart. Shrugging
it off, I stare out the window, hoping my lack of response stops her right here, but
that would be too fucking easy, right? She doesn’t know how to leave things alone.

“Baby, he’ll come ‘round. If not, we’ll make his ass come back ‘round.”

I wish it was that easy. I’ve been trying, but not a damn thing I do seems to make
a fuck of a difference to him.

“Not so sure about that, but I can keep hoping.” Is my only response.

Giving me a wicked smile, Peaches adds, “We’ll bring his ass back ‘round, one way
or another baby girl.”

Hospitals

Tank

Sitting at the bar at the club, I hold my old friend Jack; he and I go way back. I’m
sitting there takin’ shots when Rampage and Gin come grumbling into the room, bitching
about somethin’ or other. I just don’t give a fuck enough to ask.

“Sick of your shit,” Gin says sitting down next to me.  I guess I won’t have to ask.

“Yeah? Why the fuck should I care what you’re sick of?” Instantly I regret my words.
Goddamn it. It isn’t his fault I’m losing my mind and my shit. On top of my fucked
up shit with Lil, I’ve got club shit to deal with too. I feel like I’m drowning in
the middle of the ocean with no life vest and the coast guard is days out. I don’t
want it all, but I’m too much of an asshole to let it all go. I used to want this
shit, but now? I can barely stomach it.

“Get that you’ve had some fucked up shit happen, but fuck. You’re not the only one
asshole. It happened to me too. You don’t see the rest of us bein’ a bunch of bitches
‘bout it. Been months man, now it’s time to move the fuck on. Tired of cleanin’ up
your messes.” 

“Wasn’t your girl’s blood you had to wash off your hands. Wasn’t your girl you had
to watch die. Don’t wanna hear shit about how it affected you.” I’m so fucking tired
of everyone not seeing this shit.

“She ain’t fuckin’ dead, you dumbass motherfucker, but you sure as fuck act like she
is.” Gin shoves away from the bar and gives me a nasty glare. I know he’s sick of
it. How the fuck does he think I feel?

“Don’t think I won’t put your ass on the ground. Remember, you’re the
acting
President
, which won’t hold shit when Low finds out you’re fucking up club shit. Might want
to check your shit before you come up in here actin’ like a bitch.”

Rampage shakes his head at me with nothin’ but disgust. So sick and fuckin’ tired
of the looks, the whispers, and the drama.

“What?” I snap at Rampage, who’s also giving me the stare down.

“Damn, brother. You need to pull it together or you’re gonna lose everything. We’re
all just sitting back watching your shit slip right through your fuckin’ fingers.
It’ all on you.”

Fuck him. Fuck this whole goddamn place. Snatching up a bottle, I hit the office and
sit down to drink all this shit into oblivion, alone. Then, I get the phone call ….
Knew it was coming.

****

             
This place bothers the fuck out of me. Not gonna lie, it makes me nervous as fuck.
A loud metal sound clicks when the heavy door is released to swing open. Then it’s
the same loud click locking you inside the impenetrable walls of hell. Walking through
the doors, you always have that brief, but ever present sense of dread and regret.
You think “Holy fucking’ shit! I just walked through these doors and they may never
let me out.” I never should have come, but here I am anyway.

We had to pull some serious strings to get me in here. Low insisted I come, and if
he wouldn’t have pushed, I wouldn’t be here. It’s business as usual when I reach check
in. I.D., metal detector, pat down, I.D. check again, the rule spiel, another metal
detector, I.D. check, and then I’m finally seated at a small cubical thing with its
bulletproof glass between us and hard plastic stool under my ass. As we were granted
this visit, I still have my own personal bodyguard standing behind me. With his arms
crossed over his chest, he thinks he looks like a bad ass. His badge is shined up
all nice, catching the florescent lights. Fucking idiot. I could kill him with his
own government issued gun if I was lookin’ for a fight.

             
Low shuffles his shackled feet toward me. His arms are securely cuffed behind his
back. He looks rough and tired, in need of a shave and a good night’s sleep. With
a serious head nod, he sits down and picks up the phone, as I pick up mine. I get
no
hey’s
or
how are you’s.
This is serious business.

“Been hearin’ rumors deep in here brother.” Prisons are like fucking high school.
News travels quickly from the outside to the inside. And inside, news makes the rounds
even quicker.

“Yeah?” He needs to just get to the point.

“Yeah. Don’t like hearin’ them rumors in here when I left you out there to handle
business.” He’s gonna drag this out? I don’t have the time or patience for riddles
and talking in circles.

“You got issues, say ‘em. Didn’t come for games, Low.” He tilts his head to the side
and gives the guard behind me a quick jerk of his head. The guy takes a few steps
back and turns around. Even in here this motherfucker has pull.

“First off, lock down that line with Rick. He knows it’s gonna be a seventy/thirty
split. Money before product. Don’t let him jump the gun with that shit either.” He
may be in prison, but he’s still running the show. Fine, whatever. I’ll get shit handled.

“Now to the bigger issue.” Here is goes.

             
“Let you have her, brother. Even gave you my blessin’. You spittin’ on that blessin’?”

Not sure what he wants me to say to that shit. Does he want me to tell him that I
love his daughter so goddamn much I would die without her? Does he want to know that
when I look at her it makes me sick to my stomach? Does he want to hear me say I fuck
her so hard sometimes I fucking hurt her in the process of trying to punish myself?
Not that I would tell him that shit, but he’s not gonna let me say anything anyway.

“Heard you been shruggin’ your responsibilities off.”

What? Did Lil tattle to Daddy? Just as that thought crosses my mind, he gives me a
look. He knows exactly what the fuck I’d just thought. He’s like a fucking mind reader.

“Get that thought out of your motherfuckin’ head. Ya know she doesn’t say shit, but
she’s my fuckin’ baby and I can hear it when she talks, no matter how fucking fine
she tries to sound. I know it’s you. Gin, Stitch, n’ Rampage let me know. Yeah they
rat ‘cause they love her and she’s fucking miserable. They’ve also been taking up
all the slack at the club ‘cause you’re ass is always so goddamn drunk. You’re letting
your brothers down, and I will not hesitate to order a whip ass for ya to get you
back in fuckin’ line.You got issues with that, take it up with them.” Fucking assholes.
What’s that stupid saying? Bro’s before ho’s? I don’t need the daddy lectures or told
how to run the fuckin’ club. I know what the fuck is going on.

“Listen, I’ll handle mine, don’t worry about it.” I answer.

He just shakes his head. “Don’t sound like you’re handlin’ shit.”

“You worry about gettin’ your charges dropped.”

Jumping out of his seat, the chair goes flying backwards and he gives me the stare
down. His anger is flaring in his eyes, but there isn’t a goddamn thing he can do
about it behind that glass. “Handle
your
motherfuckin’ responsibilities. Take care of your brother’s n’ your women. You take
care of
my
goddamn daughter and
my
goddamn club, or I will take care of you. Feel me?”

****

             
“Wake your ass up!” The chair jerks away from the desk, making my head fall off my
hands and land on the desk with a thud. Dammit. After that fun little visit with Low,
I came in here and threw myself a little party.

“The fuck?” I grumble at the soon to be hurting asshole.

“Get the fuck up. Girls were in an accident.”

The word accident echoes around in the sudden silence as my heart stops. Rampage is
standing over me looking pissed off and irritated. Pushing off the desk and chair,
I get up, but not before knocking the bottle of Canadian Whiskey off the desk. The
second I stand up, I start to sway on my feet. I lean on the desk to keep my ass upright.

“What a stupid, goddam fuckin’ asshole,” Rampage mutters before stomping through the
door without a second look.

Stumbling into the main room, Gin is already at the door and ready to go. That hopeless
panic and alcohol coursing through me makes it hard to function. I can barely see
straight, let alone think straight.

“What the fuck happened?”

Tossing my phone at me, Gin growls, “If ya woulda answered your fuckin’ phone, you
would know Peaches was t-boned while she was test drivin’.” His words leave a sickening
hole in my gut.

“Fuck. Lil? Is she okay?” Shrugging his shoulders he pushes through the door, leaving
me alone to process his words through the fog of alcohol.

             
The whole ride to the hospital I feel sick and crazy. I fight not to pull over and
throw the fuck up. My mind is still hazy as shit from the Whiskey and I sure as fuck
shouldn’t be driving like this, but Gin left my ass to worry about it. So here I am
again, letting Lil down. I’m so fuckin’ selfish that I had a pity party for myself
and passed out. I was so out of it that I didn’t hear the phone ring when she called
and needed me.

The need to get to her has me running red lights, blowing stop signs, and cuttin’
people off. Pulling up to the hospital, I park in the loading zone, start heading
in while I struggle to keep my shit in check. My heart is beating out of my chest
while my hands shake uncontrollably. Walking in through the sliding glass doors, I
give the honking and screaming bitch in the minivan the finger. Stupid ass bitch.

“I need to see my girl.” I tell some old bitch at the front desk. The waiting room
is filled with hushed murmurs as people in the waiting room instantly look away from
the drunk biker. They cautiously watch me from under their hats, through their lashes,
or sideways glances. This shit is nothin’ new. It makes me fucking crazy, but I don’t
got time for that shit now.

“What is her name please?”

The women at the registration desk just stares at her computer, completely oblivious
to my near meltdown right here in front of her desk. I’m close to strangling this
bitch if she doesn’t hurry.

“Lil.”

A few clicks on the computer and she tells me, “There’s no one here with that name
sir.”

“The fuck there isn’t. Check again.” Raising her black, thickly rimmed eyes to me,
she gives me a nasty once over while her fingers are tapping impatiently on her desk.
This bitch doesn’t know she is one fuckin’ second away from me beating her motherfucking
ass, woman be damned.

“Sir, I told you there is no one here with that name.”

“Look for Lilly Cruz,” Gin says calmly from beside me. Fuck. I can’t handle this shit.

             
Being in the hospital makes me queasy and jumpy. I hate the smell and the way everyone
here looks somber and sad. This shit brings me right back to waiting for Lil to die
on me that night. It brings me right back to desperately praying by her side, begging
and pleading to have my baby be okay. Everything about this place sends me right back
and reminds me of my failure. I fucking hate this place.