2. Hades
Hades
Twenty-two years old…
“Rest in peace.”
While the others file away from the graveside to their Harleys, I hang back.
So much has happened since Bodybag was caught by an unknown enemy and executed.
I was immediately named president of Dead on Arrival, as per the bylaws, and had to plan his funeral.
Not only that, but I had to immediately start tracking down his killer. My father’s death can’t go unpunished.
“He was a good man,” Preach, the club chaplain, says.
I snort. “Fuck no, he wasn’t. He was a bastard.”
Preach chuckles. “That, too.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders in a half-hearted bro hug. “We’ll get ‘em.”
Rage simmers just beneath the surface as I nod. “Damn straight.”
“Hades!”
I look over my shoulder at my sister, Evie, and smile the first genuine smile of the day. She’s six and way too good for our world, but that’s the hand she was dealt. Neither of us got to pick the life we were born into.
“Coming, munchkin,” I call back.
Evie might call me by my road name, but she’s the only person on the planet who brings the ‘Craig’ outta me. She gets the scraps of good that I still possess, which in truth, are not much.
“Any word from Bonnie?” Preach asks as we cross the cemetery.
I shake my head. Mine and Evie’s mom took off as soon as she heard the news about Bodybag. They weren’t married or anything, but they’d been together since before I was born. She’s a drunk and a pill-popping bitch, so it shouldn’t have surprised me to wake up and find her gone two days ago.
“She’ll come back,” he says.
“She better not,” I snarl just before forcing a smile and catching Evie when she launches herself at me.
“I’m hungry,” my baby sister says as she rubs her eyes.
“And tired,” I tease her.
Evie shakes her head even as she yawns. “Not tired. Just hungry.”
“Well, you’re in luck, munchkin. There’s a fuck load of food waiting for us at the clubhouse,” I say, not bothering to censor myself.
All of the old ladies and club whores have been busy preparing a veritable feast for the wake. Then there’s the few people in town who aren’t completely afraid of us who dropped off casseroles and cakes.
I set Evie on the back of my bike and hand her the small pink helmet I had custom made for her. As soon as I settle in front of her, she wraps her arms around my waist as far as they’ll go.
On the ride back to the clubhouse, my mind races. Not once since our dad died has Evie said she misses him or cried. She hasn’t even seemed to notice that our mom is gone. I worry about how all of this will affect her and silently vow to make sure she’s okay.
When I pull through the gates at the front of the property, I stifle a groan because parked in front of the clubhouse is a familiar red SUV. I park next to it, and before I can stop her, Evie’s off my bike and racing toward our mother.
“Hey, baby,” she says to her daughter, even as she dodges the hug Evie tries to give her.
“Zodiac!” I holler, and Danny comes jogging over after cutting his Harley’s engine.
“Yeah, Pres?”
“Can you take Evie in and ask one of the old ladies to help get her changed?”
“I wanna stay here with Mom,” Evie whines, but she’s quickly giggling as Zodiac throws her over his shoulder and tickles her on their way inside and out of earshot.
“What the fuck do you want?” I seethe when I’m alone with Bonnie.
“Is that any way to talk to your mother?” she counters, hands on her hips.
“You lost the right to call yourself a mother when you left two days ago.” My entire body is tense, almost to the point of pain, and I welcome it. “I repeat… What the fuck do you want?”
She darts her eyes around and fiddles with her hands. Bonnie’s jonesing for a fix, and now that Bodybag isn’t here to secure one for her, she’s desperate.
“I just need a few bucks,” she finally says.
Taking my wallet out of my back pocket, I pull a twenty out and shove it against her chest. “Take it and go.”
She yanks the money from my hand. “That’s all you’re gonna give me?”
“It’s all I’ve got,” I snap.
Huffing out a breath, she turns to walk to open the driver’s door of her SUV. “Fine. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
I reach out and grab her arm, gripping tightly. “Jesus fucking Christ. What’ll it take to make you stay away?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “More than a wrinkled old twenty, that’s for damn sure.”
“How much?” I ask through gritted teeth.
Bonnie yanks free of my hold and taps her pointy red nail on her chin. “How much ya got?”
More than I’ll ever admit to you.
“How. Fucking. Much?”
“Ten grand,” she blurts, telling me she’s thought about this before.
Without giving it a second thought, I pull my cell out of my cut and shoot off a quick text to Zodiac.
Me: Running to the bank. Bonnie is not to step foot inside the clubhouse and I don’t want Evie to see her again. Be back soon.
I don’t wait for his reply. Instead, I push Bonnie to the side of the building. “Stay here until I get back.”
“I wanna go se—”
“Stay here!” I shout, turning on my heel and returning to my Harley.
As I’m starting the engine, I see Butcher, the club’s enforcer, step outside. I nod at my mother, and he walks toward her. With him at her side, I know she won’t get inside, so I take off for town.
I don’t have much time before the bank closes, so I break the speed limit to get there because I can’t withdraw such a large amount at an ATM. Ten minutes later, I park in the spot closest to the door and race inside.
“How can I help you?” the bank teller asks me, her body rigid when she spots my cut.
“I need to make a withdrawal.”
It takes a few minutes for her to confer with her manager because of the amount of money I’m getting, but as soon as I’ve got the cash in hand, I shove it into the inner zipper pocket of my cut and make my way to the exit.
Two men enter as I step outside, but I don’t pay them any attention. I’m about to fire up my bike when…
Bang!
Bang!
Straddling my motorcycle, I tense. In the span of a few seconds, three more gunshots fill the air, and then the front door is flung open.
“Dammit, what’d you do that for?” one of the men shouts. “We gotta get outta here!”
I make a mental note of what they’re wearing and the direction they run off in before making my way inside the bank. Groans reach my ears, and I race behind the blood-covered counter.
“Help me,” the bank teller whispers, blood coming out of the side of her mouth.
I pull my cell from my cut and quickly call nine-one-one. While on the line with the operator, I drop to my knees and put pressure on her wound, but it doesn’t matter. She stops breathing a few seconds later, and her eyes become vacant.
Standing, I move to the manager’s office and find him slouched in his chair, a hole in his forehead. It’s not until I return to the bank teller that I spot the little girl curled up on a pile of blankets. Blood soaks the makeshift bed beneath her, and I bend to feel for a pulse, finding none.
Where the fuck did she come from?
Bile climbs up my throat, and I have to whirl around so I don’t vomit on any evidence. All I needed was cash to pay off my bitch mother, and what I got was becoming a witness to a triple homicide.
It seems like an eternity before the police show up, and when they do, I realize just how fucked this situation is. I thought being a sort of witness was bad.
Shit, that’s got nothing on being led away in handcuffs.