Thrash (27 page)

My cheeks had flushed and it made me laugh to compare the two things: DeMarcus’ voyeurism with my parents’ bullshit. My mother would have a heart attack.

It was just funny.

“You okay?” Emma checked, her hand on my shoulder.

I nodded.

“You’re right. I am not a child. I’m not a thing.” I beamed at her and the phone. “I have you all.”

I could hear Layla’s smile. “You do have us. You are a part of the club now, and you’ve seen we’re willing and able to take care of our own.”

I really did need to hear that. Here I was part of something bigger than me.

I swallowed and looked up at Emma.

“Have you heard from Thrash?” I asked.

“Yeah. Rage did, this afternoon.” The worry in her eyes worried me. “Shit is going down, tonight. I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s big. Bones has been talking to a few other groups, coordinating something.”

“Can the club really deal with this?” I asked Layla.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “There is a lot I don’t like about Fire and Steel. I hated it at first, you know? It killed everyone I loved. But then I realized that without the club everyone would’ve died a lot sooner. From drugs or crime, or something worse. In a lot of ways this club is the best thing to happen to us. It keeps us together. Protects us. I don’t have to like it. I don’t have to agree with every aspect of it. It’s just reality, and I do my best to keep the guys going off the deep end. They have to do so much, they need our help. And we need theirs.”

I knew what she was saying was true. Fire and Steel was give and take, but not at the expense of its members dignity. Together, we kept the place together. We were good. Complicated, but good.

“Nora?” she asked. “Please trust the guys on this. Bones really does have to be dealt with. You should’ve seen what he did to this club. What he is capable of. Thrash saw it. He knows what the stakes are. He needs your support.”

I nodded. I had every intention of supporting him, even if I didn’t like it all. Thrash listened to me. I believed we could find a solution no matter what.

And if we couldn’t?

I’d follow him anyway. And I’d hope he would follow me when I needed him to…

“Bones needs to be put down,” Layla went on. “He’s like a rabid dog, and if we don’t deal with him now, we’ll regret it. He isn’t the kind of person you can show mercy to.”

I understood.

34

As I walked along the thick soles of my boots protected me against the broken shards of glass, needle ends, and jagged pieces of stone scattered across the concrete.

Vandalism and drugs showed signs everywhere. Like the rest of this damn city, it was broken. Another dead appendage of what used to be a profitable industrial city.

This place used to be something to be proud of. When had it all crumbled into a dump?

“Keep your eyes open,” Bones put his arm on my shoulder. “I need your keen senses today, man. I’ve asked a lot of you already, but you read people better than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“I got this.” I did, too. Just not on his behalf.

He sighed in relief.

We headed down the dock to a large warehouse. The place was still functional, as far as I could tell. It was probably used to pull coke, a high fuel form of coal, to the mill over in Clairton. Some remnants of the steel industry were still going strong.

I followed Bones through a set of double doors into the warehouse. There was a small crew working. We left them be, keeping to the outer areas and heading down a hall. The ceiling was low and the stench of sulfur lingered here as well.

We stopped when we reached the offices.

“Can I help you?” the man sitting at a desk asked. He rustled the paperwork he had been working on, looking us over impatiently.

“Yeah,” Bones growled. “I need your boss. I’m here on an appointment.”

Those dark eyes travelled over our vests and rough clothes. “Up the stairs and to the left.” He pointed quickly, going back to his work like we were nothing to him. He knew not to sneer at us openly. And he knew to let us through.

This sort of thing probably happened all the time. He worked for good ol’ Alan. This stuff came with the job.

We headed up the stairs, knocking on the first door to the left.

“Come on in,” Alan’s voice boomed. He sounded like he was in a very good mood.

He pursed his lips in a tight grin when he saw us.

“Boys! I hope you two have some good news for me.” He gestured to us to sit and then stood, turning towards his sidecar and grabbing a bottle of Scotch from it.

“Drink?” he offered.

I held up a hand, but Bones accepted.

Scotch was Bones’ weakness. Apparently, Alan either knew that or he was about to figure it out.

I said nothing.

Bones tipped the glass to our host. “We have thought a lot about your proposition. Working with you would be a mutually beneficial deal.”

Alan looked pleased, but his eyes were sharp as they watched Bones. Bones hadn’t sad anything that he hadn’t already said before.

“However –”

I saw those eyes flash, and only the Scotch could have made Bones oblivious to the tight line he was walking.

“– We would like to maintain more of our autonomy. We’d like an arrangement similar to what we had when under Fire and Steel, but with clear lines of our separateness.”

Bones said it with all the confidence in the world. Like it was a normal business deal he was negotiating.

I tried not to twitch. He must’ve practiced that speech.

Alan grinned wider, “I think we can arrange something, and I am glad to hear it. I was starting to worry you weren’t interested in our merger, at all.”

“As long as it is a partnership and not a merger, I think we will get along just fine.” Bones took a hard line and Alan stopped and looked at him. I was sure sparks were going to fly, but they didn’t.

He just leaned on his desk and said, “A partnership it is. I have maps of the territory I would like you to start patrolling, and I am prepared to compensate you generously.”

“What about my plans?”

Alan raised a brow, those sturdy Irish hands folded and patient. “Revenge?” He said the word as though he understood it far better than Bones ever could. “That’ll come in time, my friend, in time. But we want to build our empires first.”

Bones nodded grudgingly. “You’re right. We have time for that. Later.”

Alan turned to me. “Thrash, why don’t you go wait outside while I talk to your boss, here?”

I was all too happy to get out of there. I had some communication of my own to deal with. Fire and Steel would want to know all about this.

I checked with Bones, who nodded, then walked out, my head high and my shoulders strong.

I headed outside for a smoke. I’d actually ended up smoking over the course of the past few weeks. A puff here and there to keep the guys from calling my bluff and turned into an unconscious habit. I wasn’t thrilled with it, but it had its uses.

My cell phone was buried in my saddlebag, and I straddled the bike, lighting up, and reaching into the bag as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

You got caught if you acted furtive. As it was, none of Alan’s men would know the burner from my usual phone.

I shot Rage a text.

It’s almost
time to strike.

We were so close…

35

Can I see you?

I shot
the text off before I could chicken out. Layla was right, I needed to talk to Thrash. I needed to tell him everything, and I couldn’t leave any of it out, not now.

I stared down at my phone willing him to write me back quickly. I hoped he would get it soon. If he took too long, I might lose my nerve.

It had been a few days since we had spoken. I had been staying at the club, and I had gotten a lot of work done on the mural. But I slept poorly.

Layla had put me in Thrash’s old room. Being surrounded by his things, my nose buried in his pillows, I ached for him.

I ached for his touch, for the rumble of his voice. I need to reach out and trace my fingers over that beautiful body till I reached his soul.

I missed him so much.

He deserved to know me, the real me.

Layla’s truth rang in my ears. If I wasn’t honest with him, I would, eventually, stop being honest with myself.

I had told Layla and Emma. I could tell Thrash. It was scarier, telling him, but if he didn’t get angry, if he listened, it would be worth it.

When my phone buzzed, I nearly lost it in my hurry to read the text.

Sure
, meet you at the new club, tonight?

It wasn’t
the answer I was hoping for, but it was better than nothing.

I was hoping
to see you some place a little more private. I have some things I want to tell you.

I waited.

Outside Braddock Hills Cemetery
. Need to visit anyway.

I wanted
to ask why but instead I just wrote:
Okay.

Gotta go now
, I love you. He replied.

My mind raced
. I worried where he was, whether he was okay. But I didn’t let my fears start chewing on me. I was strong. I had to be.

36

I sat in the driver’s seat of the truck and ran my hands over the vinyl of the steering wheel while I waited. It was soft and smooth and when I gripped it the material creaked and crackled. I savored the sound and feel of it under my fingers and palms.

It helped me take my mind off of where I was. What I was doing.

I was sitting in front of a cemetery just before sunset, waiting for Thrash to show up.

Since Thrash had mentioned worrying when he had to wait, I had showed up early. It was a relic of my parents’ teaching. Not the politeness, but the reading a man’s needs.

Be early. Do as you are told. Shoulders back, chin level. Dress well. Smile. Always put his needs first. Never make a nuisance out of yourself.
There was probably a way to learn all that and do it well most of the time, but that was not the lesson that had been taught to me. The lesson that had been drilled into my head was that I was never going to be good enough, no matter what I did.

I bowed my head and tried not to let the thoughts drag me down. Focusing on what I had to get done helped.

The far off rumble of a motorcycle made my stomach clench. As it got closer, I could feel my own nervous energy. I wanted it to be him, and I hoped it wouldn’t drive right by like all the other motorcycles before it. I needed to see DeMarcus.

I was starting to see him in his full spectrum. He was sarcastic and smart and supremely capable. He could be brusque, but there was a vulnerability in him that gave me so much space, let me breathe, let me just love him.

He was just a person. A person who was perfect for me.

The rumbling slowed, turned into the parking lot. It was his motorcycle, with his long sleek form on the back of it. He took off his helmet and looked at me with those beautiful eyes. My body clenched and I knew I was glowing as I watched him walk toward me.

No matter where I was or what situation I was in, if he was there, I was home.

“Hey gorgeous.”

He opened my truck door and pulled me out of it, my body sliding down his until my feet touched the ground. Damn. I loved the way he felt against me.

I wrapped my arms around him and looked up at him, my lips hungry for his.

He pushed me against the body of the truck, leaning down to kiss me softly, deepening it, then drawing back when he felt me trembling.

“I’ve missed you.”

That was it. The way he said it, the words rumbling through me, I almost pulled up my skirt and smiled. Almost.

There were things I needed to tell him.

“Why are we here?” I asked.

“I come here to visit my father when I can.” He smiled at me, the kind of smile that let me see the pain and hurt inside.

I nodded. I knew his father was dead, but I hadn’t realized he was buried here. My thoughts had been elsewhere.

“All of the members of Fire and Steel who pass away are laid to rest here. In a plot up in the woods. It’s where we put Layla’s father and her brother. Come with me.” He grabbed my hand and tugged, leading me up the walkway paved with cobblestones.

I let him lead me along, leaning into his side as he helped me make my way over the cobblestone. Heels really hadn’t been the best choice, but I hadn’t thought we would be walking around the cemetery. I might have annoyed him, but he was patient with me, keeping ahold of my hand and leading me like it was a dance as I tottered and tiptoed over the uneven stones.

Finally, we stopped at a set of graves. There were a couple of rows of them here, each engraved with a carving of the club symbol, the anvil and hammer with the fire behind it. Fire and Steel.

The newest of the graves were in the front, their first names reading Troy and Sean. I brushed my fingers along the tops of them, as if I might send a soothing touch to their ghosts. DeMarcus was focused though as he made his way back to the far end, where a man with the same last name was laid to rest.

Leo Marcus Fletcher. 1960-1994.

His father had only been thirty-four years old when he died...

DeMarcus wasn’t looking at me, but he seemed to read my mind. “We all have to go sometime.”

I nodded. “Why here?”

“Because I wanted to show you what Fire and Steel can do. I wanted you to see the consequences of being a part of this club. And because I knew Bones wouldn’t deny me permission to come here. To meet you. I needed to be alone to talk to you. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked.

His eyes were ever questioning.

I turned to look at his father’s gravestone, so lovingly cared for, and nodded. “Yes. I need to tell you about some visitors I’ve had…”

I told him everything. About my parents and about my past. I let him know every last detail while I bared my soul to him. It wasn’t easy. It hurt, but he listened. He just stood there and listened to me.

Finally, I took a deep breath. “They want me to come home with them.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked patiently.

“No. I don’t. They may have cared about me in their own way, but that isn’t what I want in my life, DeMarcus. It isn’t what I need.” I hugged myself and looked up at him.

He nodded. “I don’t want you to go.”

We both knew he wouldn’t be allowed to see me if I went with my family.

“This isn’t an easy life.”

“I know. I’m learning what the club costs, and I’m okay with it.”

I meant it. I really wasn’t upset by any of it. I had grown up watching the world do whatever it wanted to. As far as I was concerned, at least people like Thrash and the others genuinely tried to help others.

“I might not come from a world like yours, but I understand it’s dangerous. I understand that sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to. Things that wear you down.”

He wanted to say something, but I didn’t let him.

“I also know what you do for the community. The charities, the way you guys keep the drugs off the streets. Braddock has done so well with you around, DeMarcus. They have stability, and that is in large part because of Fire and Steel.” It was true. And to me, things were never black and white. Everything had its contradictions. Everyone was a hypocrite in one way or another. That was life. It didn’t matter where you came from or where you ended up. People were people, and things got messy quick, and you did the best you could and kept moving.

Always keep moving…

Thrash looked down at me, his eyes tired and strangely sad. “I love you, Nora.”

“I love you, too.”

“I need to tell you, Nora. Things are about to go down in a big way at the club. We’ve got an opening, and Rage wants to take it, now, before Bones’ club gets any stronger. It’s going to be dicey for a while, and I wanted to make sure to give you a chance to lay low before it happens. To go back home, if that was what you wanted.”

He wasn't emotional about it. In fact, his face was devoid of any and all emotion. He was trying to leave me options without his feelings weighing into it. I knew that. But I had already made my decision.

“Thank you, but no. I’m staying. I’m a part of the club now.” Layla and Emma had made that clear. “I’m a part of this family, and when something threatens it, we all have to stand together and fight.”

I meant every word of it. No one else had ever treated me like a family, not like this. Not like they did. These people had earned my loyalty, my respect. I was just an artist. A tiny woman with big hair and a rich bitch upbringing.

Anyone who underestimated what I could do was an idiot.

Thrash wound his fingers with mine, and we took a seat nearby. I watched vague trails of dead leaves drift over the grass, swirling around the tombstones. It was beautiful and melancholy and I knew this feeling would find its way into my work later.

Thrash spotted me rubbing my fingers with my paint-stained thumb, his lips quirking with amusement.

“How is the mural going?” he asked.

I’d spent the last few days working on it. Paint was everywhere, staining my clothes and the drop-cloths and the stems of my brushes. None had gotten on the wall, though, except where I intended it to be. Everything I’d envisioned was finding its way onto the wall.

I grinned up at him and smiled. “You’ll see.”

“Soon.” The tension in his voice let me know he was missing me. When he kissed me, I savored the feel of his lips, the pressure of his tongue. It was the kind of kiss that was more sweet than passionate, but it was so deep. I wanted more.

When I suddenly realized what I was tasting, I started and drew away.

“You smoke?”

He suddenly looked embarrassed. “Does it bug you?”

I bit my lip. “No… Have you seen what it can do to your lungs?” I suggested gently. It was his choice.

He nodded. If he needed an example, Mick was a lucky case. He only had to haul around the oxygen tank.

The consequences of smoking were uglier than most people realized. The stuff that was put in cigarettes tore down the body, leaving strong men trapped in wheelchairs, hooked up to machines, coughing until they spat blood.

Slowly suffocating to death sounded like an awful way to go, but our future was such a fragile thing anyway. And I didn’t like imposing rules on people.

My hesitation didn’t mean I wasn’t scared for him, but honestly, he was risking his life every day. Right or wrong, getting wound up over cancer or emphysema wasn’t a priority for me just then.

“It’s your business,” I said quietly, and kissed him on the cheek. “Just please be careful. Respect your body. I need you. For as long as I can have you. Please.”

He nodded, his face tight. “I’ll quit. I just started.”

It probably wouldn’t be easy, but for what it was worth, I believed him. When Thrash gave his word, he meant it.

“I have to get back.”

I nodded. I had known that it was coming, but every time he left it made me feel empty inside.

“Just a few more kisses?” I asked, hopefully. I didn’t even care about the lingering aftertaste of smoke. I had grown up smelling cigars on my father’s jackets. As much as I hated the man now, there had been a time when I had curled up in his discarded coats, missing a father who would never take the time for his youngest failure.

The feeling was potent, and the smell of burned tobacco would probably always spark the loneliness in me. But if I had to feel it, at least I could ride it with Thrash’s arms around me.

That was life: twisted and contradictory and rarely just what I expected. And I was willing to face it, as long as I had this man beside me...