Grey (Storm's Soldiers MC Book 2) (2 page)

His head was shaved. He was a literal skinhead and I had just taken his bare scalp as another rough part of him to run over me.

After we closed up at night, all three of the girls hung back. I didn’t want to leave them hanging, so I let them tug me out to another bar where we sat around a tall pitcher and four mugs.

“He didn’t hit you, did he?” was one of Marissa’s first questions.

“No, no,” I said. “Nothing like that. We just got into a fight.”

“Fight?” Jeannie asked, dabbling at her beer. “I heard you guys were in a fuckbuddy situation. What’s there to fight about in that?”

“That’s how those always end up,” Kara said, shaking her head. “One of them always wants to do more than fuck.”

“It wasn’t me,” I said. “I was fine the way things used to be.”

Kara didn’t seem wholly convinced, but she gave me the benefit of the doubt. “So then what happened?”

“It turns out things weren’t what they seemed.”

Marissa patted me on the back and huddled in. “Well, you had fun, right? You broke your dry spell. Now you can move on to something better.”

It was all true, but the idea of moving on just made me feel worse than any thought that had come before.

CHAPTER TWO

Vaughn

It was noon, and I was already piss drunk. A few guys laughed over by the bar, and some others mingled in tables further away, but their presence barely registered.

I hung in a dim corner of the Iron Crossroads, alone in the shadows with a bottle of cheap shit and my thoughts. My mind wasn’t the finest of companions in the best of times, but I couldn’t share my truths with anyone else. The whiskey helped keep the internal dialogue to a minimum.

I wanted to be angry. Fuck, I deserved to be pissed. Things were spinning smooth right up until the end. There would have been no issue if it weren’t for timing. A little bit earlier and my shirt would have still been on. A little bit later and we wouldn’t have been in plain sight.

But no, the devil had come knocking at just the right time, and here I was, blue balled and humiliated. Tossed out like I was trash by some goddamn n –

The thought never finished. Every time I tried, Meagan’s face would glow in my head like a red light. The idea of her dark-set eyes soft and sad choked out my anger with regret and cut off the words that sprang to mind. The sparks of hatred never caught, never burned. I just sat revving my engine over and over, trying to find some way through.

“There he is boys,” a voice cut through the haze.

Aw fuck
.

Footsteps trudged up toward me. I didn’t bother to look up, but other than Thurge’s heavy squelches, I made out two sets more. He’d brought a damn boarding party.

“Where you been, brother?” Thurge said, pressing in across the table. His square face hovered above mine with gruff concern.

“Right here.”

“Yeah, I see that. Sent you a couple dozen messages the other day. We could have used you for the pickup run.”

I looked up and saw Asher and that new recruit glowering down at me. No sympathy there. Nor should there be.

I hadn’t slept that first night. After lying in bed bleary-eyed till noon, I’d bought a handle of whiskey, driven way out into the country and drunk myself into a stupor before even sunset. I barely remembered stumbling home sometime near midnight.

“Battery ran out,” I said, taking another long draw from my tumbler.

“Your phone’s or yours?”

I sighed over my glass. “What’d you come here to find, Thurge? An apology? Well, I’m fucking sorry. I assume you boys got it done anyway.”

“We did indeed, but that’s not the issue. We’re all just worried about you.”

“I’m not,” Asher muttered from above.

“Correction, then. Calix and I are concerned about you.”

“Well, don’t worry. I won’t fuck up again.” I rattled my cellphone on the table, watched the screen light up and instinctively dreamed of seeing her number.

“Now you say that,” Thurge said. “And yet, I can’t avoid noticing that you have been coming off your hinges as of late. You’re up, you’re down. You disappear and then you show up a wreck.”

“Free country, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Thurge took a draw from the bottle of whiskey. “Yes it is. And that’s half the problem, ain’t it? None of us truly feel bound to our kin.”

That finally got my eyes on him for a spell, wondering if he had picked this whole mess apart. My breath came a bit easier seeing his eyes lost inward. The comment was no accusation leveled on me.

The moment of fear finally took me out of my shit. I’d let down my boys last night. Even when I was with Meagan, I had promised myself that would not happen, yet here I was, abandoned on one end and abandoning my duties on the other.

“Hey,” I said, waiting till Thurge’s hazel eyes returned from his thoughts. “I’m sorry, alright? I swear. It ain’t gonna happen again.”

“I ain’t pissed, brother,” Thurge said. “That ain’t what I’m here to talk about.”

“I’m pretty pissed,” Asher’s voice drifted in from above.

“Then perhaps this is not the table you should be attending,” Thurge said. Asher shrugged and took off toward the bar with the prospect.

“Don’t mind him,” Thurge said. “He’s just angry because he didn’t tie his merchandise to his saddle properly and it went scattering all across the road. We’re lucky it happened before we hit the highway.”

I chuckled. “I suppose that might have something to do with y’all having to ride heavier than usual.”

“On account of being understaffed.”

“That’d be it.”

“Indeed, that proved to be the primary issue. You know, you’re not as dumb as you look right now.”

I flicked my hand at his face and slumped back into the frayed cushions. My thoughts lay in a swamp but my mood rode a bit higher. Thurge did have his ways for cheering me up. Hell, he even had on a little smirk now.

“Could I at least know what exactly had you preoccupied in our moment of need?”

Of course, this was what he’d sat down to find. He looked as pleasant as his rough features allowed, but he’d thrust into the table with unusual interest. It seemed like he was asking doubly on Calix’s behalf.

Shit, would it be good to lay it all out like I usually did. I wasn’t fool enough to think that Thurge’s generosity extended
that
far, though.

“Stupid shit,” I muttered.

“Lots of that in the world, brother.”

“Yeah, well I tipped over into a big patch of it. It’s all over now though.”

“You sure? You’ve been in and out of a lot of patches recently. I think you may have just ventured into one giant shitfield.”

I chuckled and made an unreadable shrug. There was nothing giant about this mess, really. It came down to me and Meagan – the problem and the solution both.

“It’s not big, just persistent,” I offered. “At least until recently. There’s no reason to worry anymore.”

Vague as I had been, Thurge seemed to be content with that assessment. He took another pull of whiskey and shoved it back at me. “I see then. Well, I’m sorry it ended as it did, brother.”

He threw me a nod that made it clear he understood that this was just me being a bitch over some girl. That’s what it was at heart, once you tore through the mess. Me losing a girl. It was just another bit of pain to ride on through.

“I’m sorry too, Thurge. I’m sorry for it all.”

“That’s all I need to hear. Well, let it not be said that I abandoned you in your hour of need.”

He drew up another tumbler from the bar, and muddled his brain right along with mine through the afternoon.

*****

I awoke the next day to the nudging of a foot. I groaned and opened my eyes to find myself on the faded carpet of our living room. Thurge’s snores snarled out from the sofa above.

The sharp shoe edged me again, and I rolled around to track the abuser from foot to face.

Calix bloomed high above me, sipping at an Irish coffee. “Fine place for a beauty nap,” he said.

“Perhaps it is, and perhaps it’s not,” I said. My mouth crackled dry and foul. “What are you waking me up for?”

“Pop wants to see us.”

“Shit,” I rubbed at my eyes and nearly crumbled my paper-dry eyelids. “Now?”

“Lunch. Figured you needed a few hours.”

“Appreciate it.”

I left Thurge and Calix and stumbled back through the halls for a shower. The soak of water petered through my hair as my brain ran haywire with thoughts. I wasn’t quite in the mood to see Pop and hear his endless sermons on separation. I wanted nothing more than to carry out my duties silently and hang out with my boys. I didn’t want any race talk to remind me of the mess the last few weeks had been. I couldn’t very well refuse the invitation though.

I tucked into a pile of eggs and some coffee that Calix had whipped up. Some might take the food to be a sign of affection, but in his mind, he was just gearing me for the battlefield. He took the ‘Soldier’ part of our club name more serious than most.

He smoked at the table while I ate, glancing every now and then as if his thoughts occasionally turned to me.

“Feeling better?” he said, as I was scraping the plate.

“Same as usual.”

“I guess I’ll take that after the mess you’ve been this weekend.”

“One time deal.”

Calix nodded seriously. “Yeah Thurgood mentioned the reason. Women’ll do that to you.”

I kept my thoughts from sprouting too far. “Yeah, they will.”

“I think this trip will help calm you down.”

We left Thurge snoring and rumbled our rides onto the road. Calix led our two man procession onto the highway and along the long route to Marietta. Instead of pulling into the far lane though, he stuck to the right. My puzzlement was answered when we took an exit near Downtown.

I’d figured we were picking something up, but my impression changed as we came out onto the local road. We wound around broken down buildings and empty blocks of cracked pavement, dotted with shopping carts and piles of dark trash bags. A few black men shuffled around in tattered sweatpants and crusty haircuts. This wasn’t the part of Atlanta you went to get anything good.

Still, it took another couple blocks of this before I realized where exactly we were headed. My first instinct was to roar ahead of Calix and cut him off, but I let that burst of anger simmer. I’d done enough damage to the Soldiers. I deserved to suffer this.

The broken blocks gave way to brick built tenements, and larger crowds – almost all black, all poor. Finally we crossed a major intersection and turned into our destination.

It was a gas station, nothing special. A big blue and white painted sign rose overhead. Four of the pumps were working and two sat with yellow tape over them. The convenience shop advertised lottery and cheap beer inside. There were probably a dozen places like it within a couple miles drive.

The only thing unique about this one was that our mom had been murdered here.

Calix and I parked along the inside curb. We were the only white faces in sight. Most of the other ones were looking at us, but none of them looked like trouble. I wondered if that disappointed Calix or if it wasn’t the purpose of this trip.

My brother paced up to pump four, one of the ones now marked over with yellow tape. He stopped and looked over the counter like it were a tombstone. I took his side and we observed in silence.

“Pop didn’t ask for us,” I said eventually.

“He did not.” Calix’s eyes didn’t lift off the pump. “Would you have come if I didn’t lie?”

“No.”

Calix shook his head sadly. “Ask yourself why, Vaughn. Why would you not visit the site where you lost the woman who gave birth to you?”

“Doesn’t seem productive.”

“And mourning for a girl you fucked for a couple weeks is worthwhile?”

“You think what you will man.” I turned and went back for the bike.

Calix landed a hand on my shoulder. “What I think is that you need a reminder in what’s important.”

Normally, I would have shoved him off, but I forced it aside, remembering again how much atonement I owed. “Yeah?” I asked. “I remember what happened to Mom. I’m a Soldier aren’t I?”

“You are. I’m not saying you’re not. I’m just saying you gotta focus on the important parts of your past, the ones that give you strength.”

He spread his arms out at the traffic cone sitting before the useless pump. “In this space, you lost a mother,” he said. “She was gunned down by a heartless black beast while you sat helpless in that car. For what? Nothing more than pumping gas amongst the wrong kind of people.”

Several of those people had an eye on our theatrics now. I wasn’t worried or embarrassed, but it did strike me how Calix spoke as if they could not understand English. Like this space was a spot for our misery alone.

“I remember, Calix,” I said, softly. “Not directly, but I know what happened here.”

Calix’s arms slumped to his side. He glanced back. “Next time you feel lost, remember what you truly did lose. Let that be the guide for your actions. That girl you let go is nothing compared to this. At least she’s still alive.”