Chapter 3
Alice
First the nerve-wracking decision to ask to go after Gael, then the pity in everyone’s eyes and finally Zane blowing up at me like he did. Not a great start.
I asked Zane, if he’d come with me because he’s the only one who can’t actually go on missions for the MC, at least not the legal ones.
I also asked him, because he’s shown a high level of intolerance for bad priests in the past. Yes, by killing one.
But above all, I asked him because he’s my friend.
I did not expect him to freak out like he did.
I was positively shaking by the time Nico stepped between us. To do what? Protect me? It sure looked like it. I don’t need protection. I can handle my own.
But as I looked back at Rogue and the others, I knew I could not handle the pity and commiseration they’d doubtlessly shower me with. That’s why I said yes to Nico’s offer of lunch. I had to get out of there.
Why exactly I got into Nico’s shiny red sports car instead of the back of my bike is a mystery though.
I didn’t even think twice as he opened the passenger door for me. I just slipped in like one of his super model or actress dates.
“I thought we could just go to the diner,” I say, meaning the one near the clubhouse, as I see it streak by, because we’re going so fast.
“Nonsense,” he says. “I heard of this place down by the beach that’s supposed to be exceptional. Beautiful spot, too. Just like you.”
He grins at me as he says it, and I feel my throat close up just a little more. I keep my eyes fixed on the road ahead, which is the only view not moving at nauseating speed.
He clears his throat. “Sorry. So what was that all about back there? Looked pretty heated. I’ve never seen Zane say that many words in one go.”
He chuckles again. Uncomfortably.
I could just say nothing. Or that I don’t want to talk about it.
But I actually do. I can’t talk to anyone at the MC, because it would make me look weak and the Sarge is never supposed to be weak.
And Nico did save my life. We’re connected that way, even if I know next to nothing about him and he knows less about me.
“There was this priest when I was young, he… he, ummm, well, he molested me,” I say.
He brakes hard, does a crazy, action movie style turn onto the gravel by the side of the road where a taco truck is baking in the sun, spraying everyone there with dust and rock.
“What was that?” I ask, breathing heavily.
He’s grinning at me sheepishly. “Sorry. But I want to give you all my attention. Fancy restaurants can wait. We can just eat here.”
I look at the taco truck dubiously, but there’s so many people eating here that it must be fine. I hope. The last thing I need on top of everything else is food poisoning.
“Yeah, sure,” I say and step out of the car.
All the people here are glaring at us as we walk to the truck, probably annoyed at all the dust Nico kicked up.
But he’s wearing one of his fancy silver-grey three-piece suits, I’m in my full biker club Sarge outfit—leather jacket, black jeans and boots, my hair braided as though for battle—so no one says anything as we place our orders.
Or as we sit at one of the wooden tables to wait for our order.
“So, you were saying?” Nico asks and I’m no longer sure I want to tell him everything. Or anything. I’ve kept my story to myself for so long that it just doesn’t want to come out.
“You had a run in with one of those nasty priests, huh?” he says, looking out past the taco truck at the glimmering ocean in the distance, his normally green eyes the color and texture of steel—the kind used in swords. “We had some of those back home.”
“Yeah? So you… you know…” I clear my throat to stop this unseemly stuttering. “You’ve experienced it?”
He turns his sharp eyes to me and they soften. “Not much. The odd hand where it wasn’t supposed to be, stuff like that. But others weren’t so lucky.” His eyes soften even more. “I take it you were one of the unlucky ones.”
That’s not exactly pity in his eyes, it’s something more hard than that, more like compassion. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t bother me so much.
“Yeah, you could say that. And the bastard got away with it and kept doing it to others, because I was too scared to tell anyone. And now I want to correct that mistake.”
“And your MC buddies don’t want to help?”
“I’ll go on my own,” I say and lean back so the server can deposit our taco baskets on the table. The food smells delicious, but for some reason that just kills my already non-existent appetite. “It’s my fight. My mistake to fix.”
“I’ll help you,” he says and picks up his taco. “I have some experience dealing with priests like that, because the church could never be trusted to deal with them properly.”
“What? You mean you’d execute them?”
He shrugs. “What else are you gonna with sickos like that?”
“Make them rot in a jail cell for the rest of their lives,” I say and pick up my taco as well.
“Sure, that’s something too,” he says and takes a big bite of his taco. I just nibble on mine, because Gael’s contorted, angry face is front and center in my mind’s eye now and that’s enough to take away anyone’s appetite. The taco is as delicious as it smells though.
“But the church protects these fuckers,” he says. “You want them gone, you gotta do it yourself. That’s what my father and the rest of the commission thought, anyway.”
The look in his eyes as he mentions his father is pure pain and sadness. But it’s back to the sharp steel a split second later as he fixes his eyes back on mine.
“So, yeah, I’ll help you deal with him,” he adds.
My knee-jerk reaction is to tell him I’m fine. That I don’t need his help, that I can do this on my own.
But instead, I just say, “Thank you.”
It’s what I actually really wanted to say. Just like I actually really want someone’s help. But should that someone be Nico? That, I’m not so sure about.
For the past few months, he’s made it so very clear that he wants me. And I don’t want him. I don’t want any man. And now he’s gonna get the wrong idea and what am I going to do then?
“So what’s the deal with Zane, anyway?” he asks. “Is he gonna help too, or what?”
The anxiety of all the what ifs when Nico finally makes his move and I have to reject him was turning my vision black at the edges. So I’m happy for this change in subject. I just don’t know how to address it.
“Zane’s story isn’t mine to tell,” I say, since that’s actually the truth.
“Yeah, but he’s not much of a talker, is he?” he says and chuckles.
I shrug and smile too, because that is also the truth. Zane doesn’t talk to anyone much, not even Rogue, and they’ve always been best friends. “You can say that again.”
“From what he was shouting earlier, it sounded like he’s killed a priest,” Nico pushes.
“A long time ago,” I say, since this part of Zane’s story is common knowledge. “He was convicted for it, got a life sentence, no parole. But he escaped and he’s been living on the run ever since. No one really knows why he did it. At least not that I’m aware of.”
Nico wipes his mouth with a napkin and leans back. “If I had to guess, I’d say that killing the priest doesn’t sit well with him. And that’s why he flew off the handle when you asked him to help you.”
“That wasn’t my intention, though,” I say. “I’d much prefer for Father Gael to rot in a jail cell.”
His eyes, his whole face actually, darken like the sky right before a bad storm. “Or even better, in some underground bunker where no one will ever find him again. That can be arranged too.”
The malicious joy that erupts in my chest at hearing that makes me question who I really am.
Because I’d like to see Gael locked up in a dark underground bunker, and it would be justice, but not the clean, above-board kind I pride myself in delivering.
But then again, we did leave Ghost, the serial killer who killed our friend Angel, incapacitated and bleeding for the beasts of the desert to finish him off.
So maybe a dark cell underground isn’t so bad after all.
“I’ll play it by ear once I see him,” I say and take a more concrete bite of my taco.
“And I’ll be right there by your side,” he says, the joy in his eyes contagious.
I smile with my mouth closed because I’m still chewing.
I have no idea why I’m even smiling. Accepting his help and inviting him along on this quest of mine is a bad idea. He won’t get what he wants, which is me. So it won’t end well.
But I need a friend right now. One that I don’t have to be one hundred percent strong and tough with all the time.
Because it’s not Sarge Alice going to take down Gael, not really. It’s Bianca, the little girl who never escaped her nightmares.
But maybe after I do this, she will.