Part 16 (1/2)
CHAPTER TEN:.
Deuce stalked out of a no-tell motel office with three keys. He tossed one at Mick and another at Jase.
”What the f.u.c.k,” ZZ complained. ”There are only two beds in a room.”
”You're on the floor,” Ripper said.
”f.u.c.k you,” He shot back. ”You and c.o.x should share, it's not like you don't share everything else.”
Ripper grinned. ”Best couple days of my life.”
”Speaking of Kami.” c.o.x looked down at Eva, who was pa.s.sed out cold in his arms. ”Prez?”
He shook his head. ”She wakes up, she's with me, s.h.i.+t's gonna get ugly. I'm the last f.u.c.kin' a.s.shole she wants to see.”
Mick cursed. ”Why the f.u.c.k didn't we just leave her there?”
”Dude,” Jase said, ”You'd leave a hot piece of unconscious a.s.s at a f.u.c.kin' club party without her man? Might as well put a f.u.c.kin' sign on her that says, ”Free f.u.c.ks for all”.”
”Who f.u.c.kin' cares?” Mick growled. ”b.i.t.c.h wasn't even grateful that we're tryin' to save her a.s.s! I shoulda knocked her harder and then we wouldn't be havin' this discussion at all!”
He knew his boys were arguing but he wasn't listening. He was staring at Eva, hanging limply in c.o.x's arms, replaying in his mind everything she'd said to him, over and over and over again.
You're f.u.c.king tras.h.!.+ f.u.c.king garbage! What the f.u.c.k makes you think I would be grateful to you for f.u.c.kING ANYTHING?
It was Eva he'd been looking at but it was his old man's voice he was hearing.
What a f.u.c.king coincidence. The last time he'd seen his old man was the first time he'd ever seen Eva. His blood ran cold. It was his old man's tag around Eva's neck.
The a.s.shole was still here, ruining his f.u.c.king life. f.u.c.king s.h.i.+t up with the only woman he'd ever given a s.h.i.+t about.
They'd spent only moments together. Here and there, some good, most painful. It didn't make any sense. They didn't make any sense. He should have let her go a long time ago. But he couldn't. And he still couldn't. Because he didn't want to. Because he f.u.c.king loved her.
He dialed Preacher.
”Yeah?”
”It's Deuce.”
”What the f.u.c.k you want?”
”Frankie's up river. Got him a one way ticket tonight. Woulda buried him but it turns out your boy put a hit on your girl. If he gets buried, she goes down with him. You know 'bout that?”
Silence.
”f.u.c.k,” Preacher rasped.
”Yeah. Got my boys workin' my connections tryin' to find who bought it. Not gonna be easy, doubt Frankie left a f.u.c.kin' paper trail and grave diggers ain't exactly forthcomin'.”
”f.u.c.k!” Preacher roared. He took the phone away from his ear and looked at it while Preacher cursed and yelled nonsense and broke everything, it sounded like, within a mile radius of him. Turns out temper tantrums run in the family.
”Horseman,” Preacher rasped into the phone. ”Where the f.u.c.k is my baby girl?”
”Got her with me. Got six of my boys. She's safe.”
”Good,” He barked, ”Lemme talk to her.”
Deuce glanced at Eva. She was still out cold.
”She's sleepin'. Don't really wanna wake her. She's not to f.u.c.kin' happy 'bout what went down.”
Mick snorted.
”Understatement,” c.o.x added.
”Yeah,” Preacher muttered. ”I bet.”
”Preacher, we cancel Eva's. .h.i.t and Frankie's not buried within a week, I'm takin' him down.”
”We'll talk. For now Frankie's locked up and I gotta hit to find. Right now you just take care of my girl.”
”Preacher,” He growled. ”Frankie's gotta go to ground.”
”That's my f.u.c.kin' son in law you're talkin' 'bout! This is family business and I aim to keep it that way! Now shut the f.u.c.k up and get my girl home, or I'll f.u.c.kin' take you to ground!”
Preacher hung up.
Jesus. Crazy. All around.
Groaning, I rolled over, gripping my head. Where the h.e.l.l was I? Why did my head feel like the Incredible Hulk had been Irish Step Dancing on top of it?
I had...three beers? Not nearly enough to merit a hangover of this mult.i.tude.
With one hand holding my forehead I reached around in the dark. Okaaay. I was on a bed with cheap scratchy sheets and nylon comforter.
Had Frankie and I gotten a motel? Why would Frankie and I get a motel while on a run when there were MC's we could stay at?
”Frankie?” I croaked, wincing as my own voice reverberated painfully inside my skull.
No answer.
I felt my way around the bed until I found the edge. Carefully, so as not to jar my head, I swung my legs over the side and met with floor. I cracked an eyelid. To my left a small clock read two forty three AM. I edged my way over and felt around until I found a lamp.
I switched it on.
Yep. Motel. c.r.a.ppy one too. Burnt orange walls and floral pattern comforters. A carpet that had probably been new in the seventies and furniture that had seen better days.