9. Blake
9
BLAKE
Come dawn, I’m already awake. I get no sleep except for a fitful two hour period where I drift off in the recliner by the living room window. The rest of the time, I’m caught between pacing the trailer as stealthily as possible to allow Korine and Sunny rest and glaring hatefully out the window.
My hand curls around my keys more times than I want to admit, my head filled with violent thoughts of taking off to her house. I’d break in and drag his ass out of bed. There’s no telling what I’d do next, but I wouldn’t leave ’til I was covered in his blood…
Only the peaceful sight of Korine asleep on the sofa stops me. I take a moment to watch her.
She’s curled up in a ball, hugging the pillow close. Her expression vacant and relaxed.
My lungs expand with pride knowing I’ve provided a place where she feels safe enough to sleep so soundly.
But watching her also takes me into another loop of confusion.
What’s happened scrambles up my brain. She’s a good person—a good woman—who doesn’t deserve a mean word spoken to her, much less somebody putting their hands on her.
The ugly reality that somebody has—her fucking husband has—for so long Korine’s used to the violence, makes my head hurt. It makes my fucking heart ache in the worst way, thinking about how he must’ve broken her down. How could he fucking hurt this woman?
My girl.
Korine stirs. It’s a slow process. She twists under the blanket, her brows joining together, like she’s trying to fight out of a dream. A throaty hum leaves her as she rubs her eyes open.
I watch the magic unfold live. The way her beautiful face gradually lights up the more awake she becomes. Her gaze meets mine and her soft lips quirk in a silent, slightly drowsy good-morning smile.
The bruises can never take away that pretty smile of hers.
I go from wanting to murder a man to wanting to kiss a woman in two-point-five seconds. Only Korine could bring a change so immediately. My murder plot slides to the back of my brain for the moment as I run my fingers through my hair and smile back at her.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey.” She sits up, glancing around as if surprised to find herself in my home, tucked under a blanket on my sofa. Last night’s turmoil comes rushing in and chases away the momentary light on her bruised face. “Blake… damn. I’m sorry for coming here. Me and Mama, we’ll go.”
“You’ll stay.”
“I’ve told you. I don’t want to get you involved in my mess. Ken… he will come looking for me. The more trouble I make…”
…the more she’ll be punished. She doesn’t need to say it. It’s more than implied.
My fists curl at my sides. “You’re not going back, Kori. I can’t let you return to that.”
“He’s my husband.”
“Who beats the shit out of you for looking at him the wrong way.”
Her face shifts into a deep, almost ashamed frown. “Blake, you don’t get it. He just… he has a temper. Sometimes it gets out of control… but he’s under a lot of stress at work. He was up for a promotion and… and…” she stammers, emotion suddenly swelling in her voice. Pain waters her good eye. “ I ruined it for him. I promised I wouldn’t, but I did. He didn’t get the job because I keep messing up.”
“Shut the fuck up, Kori.”
She looks over at me in surprise, her hands tightly gripping the blanket.
“Do you hear yourself? Is that what he taught you? What you learned over time? To justify what he’s doing?”
“I made a mistake?—”
“Stop.”
I take several steps over to where she is on the sofa ’til I’m close enough to crouch by her side for a direct look into her teary eyes.
“Listen to me, Kori,” I say slowly, in a tone that’s forcibly calm. The same one I used last night. The rage for him and the situation simply bubbles under the surface. “Nothing you could ever do or say would justify what he’s done. Nothing . You making a mistake—if you even want to call it that—doesn’t give him a right to hurt you. Neither does stress and neither does any other fucking excuse I’m sure he’s used. He’s a piece of shit that doesn’t deserve to look at you, let alone be your damn husband. He’s gotten you so down, you’ve started to think of it as justified. You’ve started to think it’s earned. I’m sure he’s real pleased with himself. Because it means you’ll never leave.”
She shakes her head, a few tears sliding free down her left cheek. “He’s going to come, and he’ll apologize. He’s probably already out looking for me.”
“He’ll kill you. You know that, right? One night, it’s going to go too far, and he’s gonna lose control. He’ll fucking kill you. Is that what you want? Then who’s going to take care of your mama? She’ll be all alone.”
That seems to get through to her. At least on some level.
Korine sits in tense silence, her cry working through her. She’s closed her eye, the one that’s not completely swollen, and her hurt comes out in the form of the silent tears and quake of her body. She leans closer, and I put my arms around her to accept her latest silent ask—she wants, needs, to be held.
It’s not easy. If this has been going on for years, then I’m sure even now her perception’s all fucked up. He’s reprogrammed her to believe he loves her even if he cheats on her. Even if he makes her black and blue.
Her tears wet my neck and shoulder and dampen my shirt. I stroke the back of her head and try to be the rock I’d been for Korine way back when.
It brings flashbacks of old times, like sophomore year in high school, when her first boyfriend had broken her heart. She’d been more upset than I’d ever seen her. I was a dumb boy that didn’t understand girls, but I knew one thing. My best friend was in tears, and it was up to me to make her feel better—so I snuck into her room and held her. We watched movies and ate junk food. I told her Jordan was a fucking loser and she deserved better. She’d smiled at me, so damn pretty, becoming a woman day by day, that a ripple of nerves hit my stomach. It wasn’t long before I realized Korine was mine. The territorial feelings I had for this girl, my girl , weren’t just friendship.
They were something else altogether…
“Where in the world am I?” Sunny’s bemused voice jerks me out of my flashback.
Korine and I separate with our heads turning toward my bedroom door. It hangs open. Sunny’s wandered out in the baggy t-shirt and sweats I provided her last night. Her round face is a question mark as she blinks over at us.
I get up, determined to keep these two women not only safe, but comfortable. “Sunny, you and Kori are visiting me for a few days. How’d you sleep? You hungry? I was thinking eggs and bacon for breakfast.”
“That sounds wonderful. And, err, who… who are you again?” Sunny asks, her tone bemused.
Korine plays along to acclimate her mother. Her tears are wiped away and she gets off the sofa to join us near the entry to the kitchen. “Mama, we’re going to be with Blake for a while. You remember Blake Cash, don’t you? We lived next door to his family for years. You used to love him coming by for dinner.”
Recognition dawns in her eyes. “Blake! My golden boy. Of course. How are you? Oh my lord, still as handsome as always, aren’t you? And you’ve gotten so tall! I bet you’ve got girls slanging them panties right at you.”
“Mama,” Korine moans.
I put on a playful smile. The same one I use to charm women, young and old alike. Sunny’s right, and I tease her about it. She gives off a mischievous laugh that in turn makes Korine laugh.
Good . I’ve got these two in better spirits.
“You ladies sit down and relax. Chef Cash’s got you.”
Korine eases Sunny into a chair and then devotes the next few minutes to her medicine. Sunny’s blood sugar level is taken, and Korine gently injects her with the necessary dose of insulin.
The older woman strokes her daughter’s chin and says, “Thanks, baby. You always look after me.”
I’m focused on making their breakfast. The kitchen fills up with the smoky scent of bacon and the sound of it sizzling on my skillet. More than once, Korine insists on helping me. I shake my head and send her away with a point of my spatula.
“I already told you. Sit down. Get comfortable.”
But it seems like Korine’s got no concept of doing nothing. Especially if the situation involves kitchen work.
She’s a bundle of anxiety, her brows knitted and her foot tapping under the table. You’d think she expects to get in trouble the way she’s behaving, like she’s nervous about being found out for sitting back as somebody else cooks.
Is this the effect he’s had on her? He’s got her so damn trained she associates anything in the kitchen as her job? Even when he’s not around?
I breathe through another beat of anger, forcing myself to keep my cool.
The last thing these two need is somebody else exploding around them. They’re skittish deer that have finally come out from hiding. I can’t fuck this up.
“Bacon and scrambled eggs,” I say, setting down their plates. “OJ? Coffee? I got some decaf.”
Korine half rises. “Blake, let me?—”
“Sit your butt down, Kori. I got this.”
Sunny aims an amused look at her daughter. “He told you.”
I laugh, taking up space at the counter to eat. My trailer’s not the best equipped to handle guests. Mostly because I don’t have many visitors other than the occasional woman that spends the night. Two chairs, two sets of everything, have always been enough.
There’ll be some growing pains if they’re going to be staying with me. Adjustments that’ll need to be made, but that I’m more than willing to make.
“These eggs are amazing, Blake,” Korine says after a few forkfuls.
Sunny nods and sips from her coffee. “This is better than the Sunday breakfast your father makes. We should call him up.”
Korine glances over in my direction. Her look tells me not to correct Sunny. It’s easier to brush off the comment than remind her her husband passed away a long time ago.
I clear my throat and change the subject. “I’m assuming you two don’t have much on you? Just what’s on your back?”
“We didn’t… there was no time,” Korine says. “I was more concerned with getting Mama out.”
“We’ve got two options. I can take you by your place to pick some things up or we can swing by the Buy N’ Save and pick up what you need.” Korine opens her mouth as I present the options, but I cut her off, adding, “Don’t tell me not to get involved ’cuz I already am.”
“The Buy N’ Save.”
“The Buy N’ Save it is. But somebody’s got to go to your house eventually. If you want your things.”
She shakes her head, her eyebrows pinched. “Not today, okay?”
I let it go. We agree that I’ll take them by the Buy N’ Save once I run a quick errand to the club. It’s not safe for them to go out by themselves considering her garbage husband might show up and accost them.
Korine promises she and Sunny will stay put while I’m gone. I toss a tarp over her car to hide its whereabouts and show her where my gun collection’s stashed.
“This is too much…”
“ In case , Kori,” I say. “If he turns up like you think he will, looking for you, he could get violent. Keep the door locked. Don’t let him in and call me if he does show up. I’ll be back in no more than an hour, okay?”
“Hurry please,” she mumbles.
Fuck, the soft whisper of her voice, the note of worry laced in its sound, makes me want to pull her into my arms and never let her go.
The chain in the door clicks into place the second I’m past the threshold. It brings me relief as I stride toward my bike and toss my leg over the side.
The curtains in my living room window rustle. So subtle I wouldn’t notice if I didn’t know better. Korine’s peeking out, watching me go.
As anxious as she is, I doubt she’ll stop counting the minutes ’til I return.
I blast off, determined to make it back soon like I promised I would. I needed to make this trip in order to brief Mace and everybody else on what’s happened. They’ve gotta know some serious trouble could be headed our way.
The law already had us on their radar after the war between us, the Hellrazors, and the Road Reapers.
Now that it’s come to light Korine’s husband is a police officer who’s a violent piece of shit, it could get complicated. It’ll make us— me —an even bigger target than ever.
There’s no way the asshole’s going to take kindly to his wife leaving him. He’ll be even less happy she’s gone to a Steel King in her hour of need.
Mace and Sydney are posted at the bar counter, sipping coffee with Mick and Tito. The four look up in surprise as I bust through the saloon doors and head straight for them. Probably because I’m usually not by this early. Let alone with fury carved onto my face.
Mace stands up, on alert just from my body language. He juts his chin at me. “What’s going on?”
“The club office, now,” I growl.
Mace doesn’t question me on it. He glances at Sydney, any easiness about him gone, then he nods. “Tito, you coming?”
The three of us head to the back with tension ratcheting up. Sydney seems tempted to get up off the stool and follow us but decides against it.
Mace closes the door to the office and turns toward me. “What’s this about, Cash?”
I’m pacing. The rage I’ve bottled up in Korine’s presence is finally spilling free. I go to the nearest wall and slam my fist into it. My knuckles burn, splitting open, and I leave a huge, cracked dent in the plaster, but it proves to be an anger reliever.
I do it again. My blood smears the wall.
Mace and Tito wait patiently as I get it out of my system.
“You done?” Mace asks. “Tell me what the hell’s going on, Cash.”
“It must be serious if you’re this worked up, primo . Breathe, it’ll calm you down,” Tito advises.
I run both hands through my hair. “It’s Korine.”
Mace’s jaw squares, his arms folded. “I expected that. What about her?”
“Her fucking trash husband’s been putting his hands on her!” I roar. My anger ramps up all over again just speaking the words. Remembering the bruises marring her face and body. “He beat her up so bad, last night she fled into the night and turned up on my doorstep!”
“Korine,” Tito says slowly. “This the girl from your high school days? I remember you los jóvenes working in the shop. Time flies.”
Mace takes a moment, even his silence loud and commanding. “Where is she now?”
“At my place. I won’t let her go back, Mace. She can’t even fucking open one of her eyes. She goes back, he’s gonna do worse. It won’t be long before he kills her.”
“She’s not going back,” he agrees. It’s with that final authority the prez of an MC carries. “You know how we roll, Cash. Kori’s been gone ten years, but she’s still ours. She’s one of us as much as Sydney and Mick are. We’ve got her. Where’s the husband?”
“Probably already out looking for her. He’s a cop,” I spit out in disgust.
Tito shakes his head “Ahhh. That makes sense. That complicates things.”
“She couldn’t even fucking call 911 ’cuz the dipshit’s pals would show up! It’s been going on for years. It’s so bad, he’s got her brainwashed . Basically fucking scared of her own shadow.”
“That’s gonna make things interesting,” Mace says, rubbing his chin. “But it explains why Pulsboro PD’s been extra interested in us.”
“You think it’s related?” Tito asks.
“They’ve started patrolling our block more in recent days. Take a look outside.”
I stride over to the window and peer out at the street.
Sure enough, there’s a cruiser parked at the end of the block. He must’ve arrived after I rode in… or maybe he was tailing me all along and I was too enraged and distracted to notice.
My eyes narrow into thin slits. “They want to fuck with us? We can fuck them up. Law or not.”
“We’ll do what we need to do.” Mace steps to me, giving one of our brotherly back-of-the-neck squeezes. The gesture’s to calm me down and remind me of our brotherhood. “We’ll come up with a plan at our next club meeting. For now… just make sure Korine’s straight.”
I nod, but I haven’t taken my eyes off the window. My glare’s set on that police cruiser idling at the curb, my rage flowing through me.
I meant what I’ve said—if Ken Stricklin wants to fuck with us, if he dares hurt Korine again, I’m going to fuck him up. I’m going to end him.