Masked & Miserable: A Novella of the Sacred Hearts MC (Book 3.5) (5 page)

Squick…

The inside of the bar was dark and surprisingly crowded. I
glanced at the banks of televisions and realized it was a game night. I scanned
the murky interior and landed on the familiar Sacred Heart’s colors at the end
of the bar. The bartender caught my eye and lifted his chin, indicating I
should meet him down the bar some. I went and he stuck out his hand.

“Jimmy Mac,” he said, I took his hand and shook, “Dragon
send you?” he asked. I shook my head.

“Dray! Our VP!” I called over the sudden loud cheering. Jimmy
nodded and leaned over the bar. He was an older guy, long graying hair in a
loose pony tail down his back. He wore a black tee shirt with the bar’s logo on
it and a pair of faded jeans. He held a dishrag in his hand and picked up a
glass to polish it.

“Your boy’s been drowning his sorrows hard over there for
the last two hours. I got his keys. He handed ‘em over without a fight,” he
produced a set of keys from his pocket and handed them to me.

 “Thanks,” I called.

“Don’t mention it. You guys have helped me and mine out before.
I don’t mind giving back,” he nodded at me and I gave him a respectful nod
back. I went over to Ghost and slid up onto the stool next to him. I slapped
him on his cut.

“Ghost, brother!” I called and he turned bleary eyes at me.
Holy fuck he’d tied more than one on! Try like three, maybe four… Hell! I slung
my backpack higher up on my shoulder and sighed.

Aaron had left me at the curb out front with a gentle
squeeze of my hand. I had wanted so badly to close the gap between us, to kiss
him but he had simply smiled sadly and told me to get out of the car. I was
regretting that just a little bit right now. Ghost was an ugly sloppy drunk. He
didn’t need me pissed off though, he needed me supportive and to figure out
what the fuck, so I plastered a smile on my face and slipped my usual mask of
happy resolutely into place.

“You got my fuckin’ keys?” he asked, it took me a second to
translate though because it came out more like
yougotmyfugginkeys
all
mashed together.

“Yeah man, right here, I’m here for you brother! Let’s get
you home.” He reeled back on his seat and I reached out and grabbed for his
shorter, more compact frame to keep him from going off backwards.

“Have a drink with me Squick!” he cried.

“Nawww man! I gotta drive!” I called with a laugh. He looked
at me dubiously, his hazel eyes more brown than green in the murky bar light as
he squinted at me.

“I really fucked it up dinnit I?” he slurred and despite his
intoxication his expression sobered.

“Naw man, it’s cool, I’m here,” I said not quite
understanding what was up.

“Naw. She’s all tore up and tattered and ‘s allmyfault!” He
slipped off the bar stool and stood and I grabbed onto him when he tottered.
Dude was the kind of drunk that was un-freaking-real.

“C’mon man, let me take you home,” I turned to the bar, “Hey
Jimmy! He all paid up!?” I asked.

“Yup! Been payin’ in cash as he goes all night. Thanks for
comin’ to get him,” Jimmy waved us off and I stooped, slinging one of Ghost’s
arms over my shoulders.

“Okay buddy. Time to go home!” I led him out to the parking
lot out back and scanned the cars and trucks a little helplessly.

“Thanks fer comin’ man. You’re a good kid…” he was mumbling
against my shoulder.

“No problem Ghosty, now which one is yers?” I asked shaking
him a little.

“Tow truck,” he blurted and it was in that way that yep, he
doubled over and heaved. I winced as the smell of vomit and whiskey wafted up
from the ground and hit me full in the face. “Oh God that’s much better!” he
blurted and threw up some more. I clenched my jaw and didn’t say anything for
fear that I would join him if I opened my mouth. Thankfully he was lower to the
ground than me and had good aim. He managed to miss me all together. Maybe his
being a sniper had something to do with that.

“Okay buddy, the tow truck it is. Come on.” I half walked,
half dragged him over to a black tow truck at the back of the lot. I prayed as
I went through three or four keys and damned near shouted in triumph when one
fit in the passenger door and turned the lock. Ghost was going in and out on me
and he was too heavy for me to lift on my own. I just needed to get him in the
damned truck. I got the door open and helped him heave himself onto the bench
seat. I slammed the door while he was still trying to right himself, careful
that I wouldn’t catch any of him with it. I let myself into the driver’s side
and held my breath. Thank you Jesus! It was an automatic. I didn’t know what I
was going to do if it had been a standard shift. I could have driven it, but I
just wasn’t very good with them and really didn’t want to fuck up dude’s
clutch.

I tried the key I’d used in the door in the ignition and it
wouldn’t turn over. Fuck. I tried another, and another, same result.

“Come
on
man!” I muttered under my breath. Ghost had
like a million fucking keys on his ring.

“Is that one.” He stabbed a finger at one of the keys with a
blue marker on it and I tried it. Sure as shit, the engine turned over. I
sighed.

“K dude, where do you live?” I asked. Ghost drunkenly raised
an arm and waved vaguely in a direction.

I hung my head, “Club house it is man.”

At least I knew it’d be open, that there were beds and that
maybe Dragon would be there. I pulled out onto the street and drove, Ghost had
his head leaned up against the passenger side window glass and was mumbling to
himself.

“She’s like this flag I saw in Iraq man… bein’ pulled in the
dessert wind, snapping and sounding all angry, tattered, almost in shreds but
proud. You know? Because she’s
our
flag!” He pounded his chest awkwardly
at the word ‘our’ his hand dropping limp into his lap. “Good ‘ol U.S. of A.
stars ‘n bars! Tried and true,” he chuckled. “Truest bluest eyes I ever seen…
all my fucking fault…”

I frowned, “Dude, I have no idea what you’re talking about,”
I said ruefully.

“Sapphire eyes!” he half shouted and I jumped and looked at
him. He blearily looked back at me and I couldn’t help it. I cracked up.

“You are fuckin’ lit, yo!” I laughed.

“I shoulda kilt him the first time. I didna kilt him in
time…” He rested his head back against the passenger glass and then smacked his
head against it hard. I rolled up to a stop light and grabbed his jacket’s arm
and pulled him more upright to keep him from banging his head against the glass
again and again.

“Dude Ghost, you’re starting to freak me out man,” and he
was, his ramblings growing darker and more morose by the second. He wasn’t
making sense but at the same time his words were laced with a depth of emotion
that had me sinking into a deep foreboding dread.

“I shoulda been there Squick. I shoulda been the one not
him.” He closed his eyes and I think he passed out. I have no idea what the
fuck… I drove to the clubhouse to the sound of Ghost softly snoring and pulled
up into the steep drive. Dragon and Data’s bikes were out front and I breathed
a bit easier. I parked the truck near the door and went into the clubhouse. I
looked up and put my hands up and swallowed hard.

“The fuck you doin’ here?” Dragon grated and pointed his
Browning skyward. I breathed out slowly and closed my eyes.

“Dray called me, told me to go pick up Ghost from The Spot,”
I said.

“Where is he?” Dragon asked looking past me at the door
which hung open behind me.

“Passed out in the truck.”

“Put yer damned hands down,” Dragon waved his gun at me
grinning and I dropped my hands to my sides and smiled.

“You scared the shit out of me,” I said with a nervous
laugh.

“You!? What the fuck you think I was thinkin’? You’ve never
been in an MC turf war but I have,” he cleared his throat, “Last time we had
cars or trucks come by a club house unexpectedly…” he didn’t finish, instead he
said, “Well never mind that. Let’s go get our boy and git him to bed.” Dragon
followed me out to the truck and gave a low whistle.

“Yeah I know, right?” I said when he went up to the
passenger side door.

“Boy got himself tore up from the floor up.” Dragon tsked,
“You were right to bring ‘im here.”

“Yeah well I’ve only been out to his place the once for that
barbeque. No fucking idea how to get out there in the dark,” I told him. Dragon
opened the door to the truck and Ghost slumped and fell halfway out. Dragon
righted him and got under his one side, draping Ghost’s arm over his broad
shoulders.

“Get his other side.” I moved in and got Ghost’s arm up
around me. He reeked like a distillery and I grimaced. I stooped and we dragged
Ghost between us, the boots of his steel toes barely scraping the floor between
us. It was awkward as hell for me, being so tall, but I managed.

“Where to?” I asked.

“It’s a good thing we got some of these rooms finished,”
Dragon grunted and we went back into the sprawling complex of rooms that made
up the club house. It was true we’d been working our asses off since the failed
summer lake run to get the rest of the club house in shape. We needed the
space. Dragon and Dray had been going out on runs to try and talk some of the
outlying chapters and Sacred Hearts nomads into patching over into the mother
chapter to bolster our numbers.

Things remained tense with the whole Suicide Kings
situation. They’d been quiet… too quiet and Dragon called it the calm before
the storm. He’d done this sort of thing before and so he would know best and so
when he spoke we took it to heart. It made for a darker and grimmer atmosphere
and I guess I couldn’t blame him for jumping at shadows. It was at this point
that I felt like a total fucking moron because like a bolt from the blue,
everything that Ghost had been rambling about fell into place.

“Wonder what had his panties in such a wad,” Dragon said and
with a final heave we flopped Ghost onto a simply made queen sized bed in a
sparsely furnished spare room. I straightened and stretched.

“Shelly,” I said and Dragon cocked an eyebrow like he wasn’t
really surprised.

“Those two have had a thing for each other since they laid
eyes on the other. Never could figure why he wouldn’t tap that.” He lifted a
shoulder in an indelicate shrug.

“Well come on,” he said, “Let’s get his boots off and leave
him to sleep it off.” We set to work silently letting Ghost’s steel toes hit
the plain gray office style nondescript flat carpet.

“Good enough,” Dragon declared and we left the room. We’d
left Ghost on his side, head propped on his arm. If he puked he wouldn’t drown
in it. I’d still be checking on him later. This was not my first drunk watch
since becoming a prospect.

“Suppose you’ll be needing a room tonight too, take the one
there,” Dragon indicated a room directly across the hall.

“Thanks,” I said softly.

“Don’t mention it Prospect,” he said waving over his
shoulder. His ponytail long and dark, cutting a black line down the middle of
his tanned back to tickle the top of the equally black butt of his gun sticking
out of his waistband.

“Hey Dragon?” I asked impulsively.

“Yeah boy?” he turned and rubbed a hand over the dark
whiskers on his chin, his almost black eyes cutting back in my direction and
burning a hole in my face.

“Is it really that bad?” I asked and waved a hand to
indicate the gun. He looked me over and gave a grudging nod.

“Reaver killed their President, boy. That’s not something
any club can, or will, let slide… No matter what thing the man done to deserve
it.”

I nodded and looked back in the direction of Ghost, “What do
we do?” I asked.

“Well we can’t kill ‘em all, so we wait. We wait to see what
happens and we hold our ground. Why, worried about yer rainbow hide?” he asked
but his eyes and smile were kind when he asked, taking any accusations of
cowardice out of the question.

“No. Not mine,” I answered him honestly, thinking of Aaron,
of my brothers who I really did consider my family even though I was still just
a prospect. Dragon’s eyes narrowed.

“He’s fine for the time being. Come out here and have a
drink. Seems to me you got some troubles of your own on your mind.”

I nodded and followed him out to the common room. Dragon
indicated a chair at a two person table and I dropped into it. He looked me
over one more time and nodded sagely.

“Think this calls for the good stuff.” He went behind the
bar and grabbed two glasses and a bottle from underneath and came back. He set
the glasses on the table and a bottle of Jose Cuervo Reserva de la Familia
between them. My eyebrows went up.

“Kid,” he drawled uncapping the bottle and pouring, “I like
you.”

I watched him carefully and waited for him to say more…
expecting there to be a ‘but’, I mean it sounded like there was a ‘but’ hanging
there, thick and as tangible as smoke would be curling under the low barroom
lighting. Thinking of which, Dragon shook a cig out of a pack from the table
and put it between his lips. He lit up and took a solid drag, holding the pack
out to me. I put up a hand and shook my head politely.

When he didn’t say anything I prompted with a querulous
“But..?”

He sighed, “We all got secrets boy. We all got pasts and we
all come from somewhere and for the most part we all accept that about one
another. We don’t pry unless it’s required and we don’t butt in where we don’t
belong. Take Ghost in there,” he waved in the direction of the back room with
the glowing end of his cig.

“Whatever is eating at him had him tie one on but good
tonight, but you don’t see us badgering him about it,” he leveled me with a
look and picked up his tequila and sipped. I did the same. I wasn’t usually a
fan of it, but this shit was good! Going down smooth as butter.