Leave a Trail (7 page)

He’d seen Adrienne a couple of times. She’d changed clothes, into a little flowered dress and flat shoes, to help with the wedding. Watching her with Shannon, her mom, always made his heart feel strange, and even more than usual today. For a long time, he’d been basically in love with Shannon, even though she was Show’s old lady. He wasn’t in love with her anymore—or, well, it was different, both deeper and shallower. And not nearly as…sexual. She was hot, and she was kind, and he loved her. But he didn’t dream about her anymore.

Now he dreamed about her daughter.

When he wasn’t dreaming about being skinned alive.

He was such a fucked-up loser.

He’d seen Adrienne a couple of times during the wedding, but they’d only made eye contact once—and she’d immediately turned away. Rightly so. He’d hurt her. Not metaphorically, not emotionally, but that, too—he’d actually knocked her to the ground and hurt her.

He really was a monster.

When she’d left the barn, he’d almost gone back to his office for his stash, but he’d fought the urge off. It had sucked, but he’d fought. Every six hours. No more than every six hours. Holding to that personal rule, he knew, was what was allowing him to keep functioning. To do his job at the B&B and in the club. He knew that if he caved to that, he might as well just snort the whole bag at a go. But his head was full of self-hate and misery, wrapped up in a binding of need, and he’d stood in the aisle, his hand wrapped around Toby’s lead, mere feet away from peace of mind, needing it so badly he thought he’d die anyway. He’d fought it off and done his job, and told himself that meant he was still in control.

He was a little high again now, on this run, but in what he thought of as his safe zone—not so soon after a dose that he obviously looked high, unless somebody really checked, and not so close to needing another that he’d be sick. Safe.

It had been an easy run—just to Springfield, to their contact for black market medical supplies, to set up the next order. Tasha’s clinic was legit, straight-up. She was just getting off the ground, but people in town were coming to her, and Badger knew she was building up a small but steady patient base. The Horde kept an eye on the clinic’s progress, because they’d put the money into starting it. And because Tasha was one of their own—a club daughter and now Len’s old lady.

The clinic was legit, but Tasha also took care of the Horde, who couldn’t always go to the hospital even when they needed it—as Badger knew very well—and she was building a store of drugs and supplies that made her clinic something of a underground hospital. For that, she needed supplies that weren’t readily available to the doctor of a small town clinic. And the Horde helped her out.

It was why Badger went all the way to St. Louis for his own…supplies. He couldn’t risk anyone the Horde worked with knowing what he had going on. They already watched him too closely, waiting for their chance.

Once they were back in Signal Bend, Show veered off toward home, and Tommy and Badger headed on to Tuck’s. With Zeke, they were on duty there tonight, keeping the usual fracas from getting out of control. Though the town was changing, with new residents—and a few old ones—who weren’t on board with the way the Horde ran things, Tuck’s was still Tuck’s. It got rough, and the people who went there, for the most part, knew and expected that. The innocent bystanders who might straggle in occasionally got a quick lesson, and then they hightailed it to Valhalla Vin, for a quiet drink.

It was still early enough when they met Zeke inside that the crowd—and it was a decent-size crowd—was pretty calm. There was a band, like every Saturday night, and most people were dancing. Zeke stood at the bar, leaning backwards against it, his expansive belly swelling out in front of him. As Tommy and Badger walked up, Zeke nodded, one deep incline of his head, his long, iron-grey beard sliding over that belly. “Brothers.”

“Zeke.” Tommy leaned on the bar. “Looks chill.”

“Yep.” Zeke was not a talker. It was rare for him to string enough words together to make even a sentence. But he was a tough old dude. He nodded again, this time directly at Badger. “Okay, Badge?”

Fuck. Even Zeke was on his ass. “Yeah, Zeke. Good. You?” Zeke nodded again.

Well, that had been a lively chat.

“Beer or hooch tonight, boys?” Rose, Tuck’s wife, leaned on her elbows on the other side of the bar.

“Just a Bud for me, Rose.” Badger had learned quickly that drinking hard liquor fucked him up fast these days. Didn’t mix with the Oxy at all. But he could do a couple of beers and be pretty okay.

Tommy ordered tequila, and Zeke took another beer. They stood at the bar and drank quietly. Tommy and Zeke faced out, but Badger leaned his elbows on the bar, feeling the first threads unraveling. He drank his beer and breathed.

The band finished its second set as Badger was finishing his second beer. His nose was starting to run, and his chest was starting to burn. He had about another hour. Maybe he could push it to two before he got twitchy. Maybe. The beer would help—it made him a little slow, but that slow was also calm. He waved his empty at Rose when she looked over, and she smiled and held up a finger, then served a guy at the other end of the bar.

“Need to talk to you, Badge.”

Billy Knox had come up beside him. They’d been friends since grade school, but relations had been chilly the past couple years, since Jerri Rae had gone into the club. Billy hated it—of course he did; his little sister spread her thighs for at least one guy most every night, and all the unattached Horde did her. Badger did her pretty often. She was hot, and she did what she was told. Maybe it was because she’d known him her whole life, but she seemed to like it when he paid her attention, and he liked that she liked it.

Badger had stopped being such a pussy around girls since the fall, and he didn’t wait around anymore for them to come to him—like some kind of nerdy middle-school shithead. But he still didn’t like getting too bossy with them. Except when they wanted to get all touchy-feely. He wouldn’t have that.

Billy thought Badger had betrayed their friendship banging his little sister. Maybe he had; Badger didn’t know—or care that much. She’d come to him first—and she’d been of age when she started at the club. She was twenty-one now. Her call.

For the most part, Billy was trying to deal with his sister living the life she wanted. But he and Badger had come to blows over it a time or two. Back in the day, Billy had been stronger than him, but not anymore. Or, hell, maybe he was again, now. Badger didn’t have the range of motion he used to.

Rose had brought him a fresh bottle. Badger took a long swallow of his beer and turned to Billy, not knowing whether he would meet friend or foe. “Yeah, Bill?”

“Can we talk outside?”

He thought going outside alone with Billy could be a bad idea. “Nah. Gotta stay and keep an eye out.”

“It’s important, Badge. Only take a minute.”

Badger looked down at his friend—Billy was several inches shorter than his own six feet. He looked simply intent. Not threatening, but like he really did have something important to talk about. Deciding he’d stay close to the door, Badge nodded and drained his beer. The room tilted just a little when he turned and then righted. He took a deep breath, always feeling like breath was just a little harder to come by after a few cold ones. With a quick glance toward Tommy and a tip of his head to indicate where he was going, he followed Billy outside.

And came face to face with two other men—guys he’d gone to school with, too. Wally Fisher had a length of chain in his hands. Eric Dale had a fucking bat. Eric and Billy grabbed Badger’s arms, and just that pull made his chest burn.

“What the fuck, Billy?”

“You knocked up my sister.”

No—no, he most certainly had not. He
always
wrapped. Always. Fuck, he’d come to sometimes with the damn thing stuck to his dick—this morning, in fact. He’d been with Jerri Rae last night, and she’d been drunk off her ass.
Last night.
She was pregnant? What the fuck? He shook all that away, though. Not his problem. Even if she was knocked up, he knew it wasn’t his. He’d never been too fucked up not to wrap. And he knew that to be true, because he never had the good fortune to black out.

“No way, man. No. It wasn’t me.”

“She says it’s you.” Billy punched him in the gut. As he doubled over, they dragged him away from the door.

He’d gained a reputation—hard earned in the Horde ring and in the Horde world—for having quick hands and feet. He fought now, ignoring the pain in his chest, and he got a couple of good licks in. But they were too many, and after three beers and with his need growing, he was too slow. They were armed, and all he had was his blade—until they’d taken it. When Tommy and Zeke beat them back and got them under control, Badger was curled up on the gravel, waiting for them to just fucking kill him.

Zeke pulled him to sitting and set him against the wall. He heard Tommy on his burner, calling for backup. Time moved erratically. Maybe he’d gone under; he didn’t know. But the next thing he knew, Show was lifting him off the ground.

“Come on, little brother. Let’s get you seen to.” Adrienne’s stepfather mostly carried him to his truck and got him in the bitch seat. As Show closed the door, Badger saw Billy and company being forced into the club van by Len, Tommy, and Isaac. Dom and Zeke were heading back into the bar.

Badger closed his eyes and leaned back against the seat. The pain was bad, but strangely, it was almost more bearable when it was spread out all over his body like this.

~oOo~

“You’re lucky, hon. No broken bones. Mostly just contusions. I’ll close up that laceration through your eyebrow, but the rest will heal on its own. You’re going to look and feel pretty rough for awhile, but you’ll be okay.” Tasha patted his leg and turned to the counter in the treatment room of her clinic.

Badger just lay there, not in the mood to talk, wanting her to hurry the fuck up so he could get back to his bike and get back to the B&B. He needed to get level. He really needed to get level.

She gave him a shot in his forehead, and half his face went numb. Then she stitched up the gash in his brow. When she was finished, she stared hard at him. “Is there anything else you need to tell me about, Badge? Do you still have Darvocet left? Only using as needed?”

He almost laughed. Yeah, he still had the Darvocet. What a fucking joke that crap was. “Yeah. Got most of the bottle left.”

Still staring at him, sizing him up like every other person in his life, she finally nodded. Maybe the beating was masking whatever signs she was looking for—signs he certainly fucking felt. “Good. Take a couple tonight. They’ll take the edge off the ache.”

“Sure. Thanks, Doc.”

As she gathered up the remnants of her care of him, she smiled. “You’re welcome. Sorry you had such a rough night.”

He shrugged, then winced at the burn.

Show came into the room as Tasha finished cleaning up. She left, patting Show’s arm as she went by.

“How you doin’, Badge?” Show leaned against the gurney Badger had just sat up on.

“Okay. Better.” Ashamed, that was what he was. Every day, another way that he showed himself to be a pussy. Getting rolled by a bunch of fucking losers. Fuck.

“It true?”

Knowing exactly what Show was asking, he answered, “No, Show. No. I swear.”

“You sure you’re sure? You’d know?”

The Horde stayed out of brothers’ family business, but they didn’t countenance shirkers. A brother bailing on his own kid would mean sanctions, at least. But Badger really was sure. And he was fucking pissed that Jerri Rae would throw him under the train like this. “I would. I’d know. I swear.”

“Okay. Good enough. Those boys’ll leave you be, at any rate. They got a lesson tonight.”

“I’m…I’m sorry. I was stupid and weak.”

“Stupid, yeah. We’ve all been there a time or two, though. Stupid happens. Learn from it. But weak? No—outnumbered, outarmed, and ambushed, more like.” He laid his hand on Badger’s shoulder. “C’mon, little brother. I’ll take you back to the clubhouse. You need to rest.”

No. He needed to get to the B&B. “Can you take me for my bike instead? I’m okay, really. I think I want to go home.”

“Sure you can ride?”

Badger nodded. Whether he could or not, he didn’t have a choice.

“Okay. But I’ll follow you home.”

Fuck.

Show took him back to Tuck’s, and Badger got his bike. He was able to ride fairly well. Good as his word, Show followed him to his parents’ house and didn’t turn around until Badger was off his bike.

Luckily, it was so late it was early, and his parents’ room was in the back of the house. They wouldn’t be disturbed. He walked halfway to the front door and then turned and waited for the lights of Shannon’s SUV to fade away. Then he got back on his bike and rode the other direction to the B&B.

~oOo~

He was a mess by the time he got to his office. He barely noticed that Kenny had brought all the animals in, except that Weasel was in his way, dancing around his legs, trying to get a greeting. Badger kicked him away and gimped as fast as he could to his desk.

Everything hurt. Inside and outside. He felt sick. And dizzy. And absolutely fucking worthless. He crushed double his usual hit and breathed it in.

And then he felt fine.

CHAPTER THREE

Adrienne came downstairs the next morning slowly—she was a little sore, having landed on her tailbone when Badger pushed her the day before. It hadn’t been too bad yesterday, but she guessed she’d stiffened up during the night, because now she was having trouble not limping.

She went into the kitchen to find Show at the table, his head in his hands and his huge coffee mug sitting in front of him. No sign of Shannon, but the aroma of fresh coffee was strong in the room.

“Morning, Show.”

When he looked up, it was obvious that he hadn’t slept and was feeling it, though he smiled warmly at her. “Mornin’, little one. You’re up early on a Sunday.”