Ride (Bayonet Scars) (5 page)

Chapter 5

Trust your instinct to the end, t
hough you can render no reason.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

I SLEEP WELL
for the better part of the night. My mind is groggy, confused. I try to keep myself alert and aware, but can’t get my brain to function. Something’s wrong with me. My limbs are heavy and slow to respond. I can still breathe and function despite the haze, but something definitely feels wrong about all of this.

Light shines in through my window
, much to my dismay. It isn’t quite morning yet, but it’s now moved into that place between darkness and light. It’s too early to be so awake, too early to be dealing with—well, anything. I hear my bedroom door crack open and try to move my head, but it’s too much effort. I give up and wait. Gloria comes into view with a nervous smile on her face. She’s carrying a short stack of clothes.

“We need to get you up and ready,” she says. For what, I want to ask. The words stall on my tongue. She sets the clothes down on the night table beside me and peels back my covers.

Gloria helps me with everything from brushing my hair and putting it in a long braid down to tying the shoe laces to my Chucks. She’s dressed me in fitted jeans and a baseball tee—one of my favorite outfits. It’s plain and comfortable and it doesn’t tell the world who I am, unlike most of the clothing my father prefers I wear. “We have an image, Alex” he says. It’s his image, not mine.

“Why am I so tired?” I ask her as I search through my closet for my favorite hoodie. It’s old and worn and so very comfortable.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Gloria says as she stands next to me. “I didn’t want you to flip out so I…” And then I remember something—years ago right after my mother died, I’d been inconsolable. Aside from wearing her dirty nightgown day and night, I’d also been plagued with insomnia. It was awful. After a week or so, I became a zombie. That was when my father took me to the doctor, who had prescribed me some pills that would calm me down. I turn and look at Gloria, eyes bugged out and jaw slack.

“You drugged me,” I accuse. In my head it’s a fierce yell of betrayal and anger. Out loud it sounds more like a child’s bedtime plea. My voice is hoarse
, and the words come out slow. No wonder I had trouble moving in the night and have been in a haze since Gloria pulled me out of bed. I’m angry, though in this moment, I can’t feel it. This is why I stopped taking the anti-anxiety medication. I really hate how it makes me feel—compliant and unable to argue.

Gloria finds my hoodie and helps me get it on. The sun isn’t quite up yet, though it isn’t far off
, from what I can tell. We walk out of the closet and Gloria hands me the small bag she put together yesterday. A loud rumbling sound comes from the street, growing louder with every moment. It’s so noisy and so overpowering that I can’t help but feel it in my bones. It sounds like a motorcycle engine, but not just one—many. I’ve heard this many motorcycles before—it hadn’t been good. The motorcycle club from Queens made a visit here a few years back, making demands on my father’s business. I don’t know what came of it, but that the club left in a good mood and my father was grouchy for a good week. I haven’t so much as seen or heard more than one stray bike drive past the house since. My stomach sinks.

“Ruby is here to help you, baby,” Gloria says
, and she clamps her hands on my shoulders, keeping me in place. I stand there, unable to even think about what’s happening. Ruby, as in my mother’s sister? My head spins.

Suddenly, the noise stops and what sounds like a thousand men on the pavement below race up to the front door. With three loud bangs, they’re inside the house. Did they break down the door? Gloria whispers reassuring things in my ear as though it’s supposed to help. It doesn’t. I’m panicking
, but know well enough that I can’t get away. Heavy feet sound, climbing the stairs and walking down the hallway, closer and closer to be my bedroom. I want to scream or cry, or do something. But Gloria said it’s going to be okay, that Ruby is here to help me, and since I don’t have anything else to cling to, I have to hold onto that with the ferocity of a thousand suns.

My bedroom door flies open and there stands a man with black hair
that is closely cropped on the sides and longer on top, a hard-set jaw, and sun-tanned skin—and he has a gun pointed at us. I grab for Gloria as tears fill my eyes. For the second time in a short period I’m on the losing end of a gun. But the man doesn’t shoot, and Gloria doesn’t seem fazed.

“They’re in here!” he yells and lowers the gun. He isn’t one of my father’s men or anyone my father has done business with
, that’s for sure. He wears black jeans with black boots and a black short-sleeve tee shirt underneath a leather vest that’s been adorned with various patches. Over his heart is a patch that reads FORSAKEN, and below that, one that says FORT BRAGG, CA. On the other side of the vest at the same height are two more patches. The top one reads ROAD CAPTAIN, and the one below it reads ANGEL OF DEATH. I don’t know what the patches mean to him, but I know what they mean to me. He’s a dangerous man. Just then, two more men walk in; one close in age to him, while the other is much older. They’re all tall and wearing similar vests.

“Jim,” Gloria says and lets go of my shoulders. She walks over to the
older man and smiles at him. He smiles back, and they greet one another with a quick hug.

“Sorry we’re late. Should have been here last night,” Jim says.

“Move over, Jim,” a strong feminine voice says from behind the men. Gloria’s face gets impossibly bright, and she pushes Jim off. The woman comes into view and I know instantly that this has to be Ruby. If Gloria is friendly with these people, then I shouldn’t be too afraid. Ruby embraces Gloria like they’re family. I suppose, in a way, they were at one time. I keep myself in the back and hopefully out of notice, though I gave up thinking they weren’t here for me some time ago. Ruby pulls back and looks over at me. Her face drops and she freezes. I try to give her a smile.

“Alexandra,” she whispers, her voice catching in her throat. All three men stand silent behind Ruby. She takes one step forward in her tall leather boots and black jeans. She wears a dark waffle shirt with a leather jacket over. Her jacket has no patches. I guess she isn’t a member of their club. I want to nod my head and acknowledge her
, but I can’t stop staring. She looks so much like my mother—so much like me.

“Alexandra,” she says again with such reverence in her voice it takes me aback. Her eyes fill with tears and she nods. “Hi,” she says and takes another ste
p forward. Did she really miss my mother so much that she’s this touched by meeting her niece? I feel guilty for not having the same reaction to meeting her—after all, I’ve only found out she exists last night. Her hand clamps down over her mouth as she holds back a painful scream, and she rushes for me, wrapping me in her arms. I return the hug nervously. I don’t really know what to do.

“Gloria,” Ruby says, “
she’s gorgeous.” I look over Ruby’s shoulder to find that the men are all looking away like Ruby’s show of emotion makes them uncomfortable. Gloria steps forward and puts her hand on Ruby’s back.

“You guys better hurry,” Gloria says. Ruby pulls back and gives me a sad smile then looks to Gloria and nods. Gloria reaches over and gives me a tight hug. “I love you, Alex. I’m so sorry that this has to happen, but it’s not safe here for you anymore.” Gloria’s given me every clue that this was happening—that I was being sent away. I was just in shock. I guess I didn’t wanted to believe the truth of it.

I want to rewind the last few days and go back to before. I want to refuse to go for gelato with Leo. I want to stay home and hear about the awful things that happened by listening through my father’s office door. But then where would we be? Tony would be dead—that guy who had the gun on him wasn’t playing. He’d been shot once, and I think the only thing that saved Tony’s life had been my interference. But Michael would have still been shot. And Leo, who Gloria says is in critical condition—I don’t even know what would have happened to him. Maybe he could have diffused the situation safely. And where would I be? I would be on my way down the aisle, marrying a guy who thinks of me as a status symbol rather than a partner. In the back of my head I wonder if perhaps this isn’t the better option.

I clutch my small bag to my chest as Gloria leads me downstairs with Ruby beside her and the men in vests behind me. At the foot of the stairs
, Gloria turns and gives me a quick hug then pulls away and holds me at arm’s length.

“The club and Ruby will protect you and keep you safe. You understand why you’re not safe here, don’t you?” Gloria ask
s. I want to play dumb and say that, no, I don’t understand. I really can’t stand to hear my transgression aloud though. It’s best to just agree with her. Deep in my heart, I know what happens to people who talk. I had just been lying to myself that the
principessa
was somehow exempt from the same code of conduct that led to Sal’s death.

“Yes,” I say and leave it at that. I don’t know what to do or how to act
, and I’m still battling the haze thanks to the anti-anxiety mediation.

“Goodbye, Miele,” Gloria says, calling me honey one more time. She smiles. “Do not be afraid, no matter what. Promise me,” she says.

“I promise,” I say as I watch Gloria stand back and walk a few feet away. Ruby follows her. They stand facing one another, both smiling and laughing.

“Avoid my nose, please,” Gloria says
, sending Ruby into a fit of laughter.

“Got it done, did ya?” she asks. Gloria nods. Ruby laughs and turns her body around before
spinning back and punching Gloria square in the eye. I scream and run for Gloria without thought. A strong arm holds me back. I scream again as Ruby throws three more punches—one more to the eye and two to the mouth. Blood pools in Gloria’s mouth and drips down her chin. Gloria holds her arms in the air, taking the abuse, and Ruby throws a few punches to her gut. I fight against the arm holding me back, but it’s no use. I look over to see it’s the younger man with the wavy black hair who’s holding me back.

“Your aunt isn’t fighting back,” he says. “If she needed your help, she wouldn’t be taking the hits.” He makes a good point
, but that doesn’t stop me from trying to stop Ruby from throwing her punches. I feel sick to my stomach at the thought of leaving with these people—not that I have another option. A few more blows and Ruby is done. She and Gloria laugh and smile at each other. God, these people are sick.

The next few moments happen so fast. Gloria tells me to go with Ruby
, and I do. We run out of the house and into a black van with tinted windows. Outside the house stand ten more men clad in leather vests, standing in front of a sea of motorcycles. I don’t get a good look at any of them. Inside the van, another man sits across from us and closes the door. I peer out through the tinted windows. There’s a loud ruckus coming from inside the house, then screams, and finally—gunshots. I jump from my seat and try to fend off Ruby’s attempts to restrain me. The man across from us pulls out a black gun and points it at me.

“Sit,” he orders
. I do.

“Put that fucking thing away,” Ruby yells at him and he complies. “And don’t you ever pull a gun
on her again,” she says. I sit; shocked at the way she speaks to him. No woman I’ve ever known is allowed to speak to a man of power the way she has and not be punished for it. He nods and claps his hands together and looks away. “Gloria isn’t hurt, Alex.” I look at Ruby like she must be out of her mind. Then again, looking at the crowd she runs with, I have to say my guess is likely spot on.

“You know
what your father is?” Ruby asks. I nod my head. “Then you know that I can’t very well walk into that house and take you with me without making it look like a fight. What do you think your father would do to Gloria if he thought she sent you away?” Oh God. And there it is—the reason for all of this. When Gloria was trying to get me to understand, what she was doing, this is what she was talking about. If my father thinks that Gloria has undermined him, he could have her killed. It doesn’t matter that she’s his underboss’s wife—and his sister. Nothing matters but the family he’s sworn himself into.

“I didn’t enjoy hitting her,” Ruby says. “She was my best friend once. But would you rather I be the one to bang up on her or one of those guys?” she asks
, pointing out at the men who are walking out of the house. The older man with the black-gray hair has his hand gripped around Gloria’s neck. She looks frightened and in pain. Ruby assures me that Jim isn’t hurting her; he just has to make it look like he is.

Jim walks with Gloria to the sidewalk near the van and the men—the ones who had been inside the house and the ones waiting outside, form two lines. One line faces the street and the other faces the house with their backs to one another. They draw their guns
, and the men facing the house begin firing. They shoot out windows and fire at the wooden siding. I cry as I watch the only home I’ve ever known be turned into Swiss cheese. One by one, when the job is apparently done, men put their guns away and walk to their motorcycles. The van door opens, and in climb two more men. Both the front passenger and driver’s doors open, and a man climbs in each. The van starts up and we pull away, flanked by several men on bikes in front of us and more behind us.