Chapter 32
Bear
T here were twenty-two marks carved into the wood by Carl’s back door. Two more than when KC commented on them. With a hunch that bordered on clarity, I traced the top mark sitting all by itself.
“ The deacon.” That’s the murder Carl and Rose committed together. It stood apart as if symbolic.
And it likely was. The first murder he’d orchestrated and gotten away with.
Then I traced the three rows of five marks each between that time and the fateful night KC and Sketch chased down the four gangbangers who took Sketch’s girl.
Three rows of five. While KC used to drive us nuts by failing to see the obvious, sometimes he saw things we all missed. Like knowing new marks had been added. I didn’t doubt him anymore. I traced the last full row of marks that was fresher than the previous three.
KC killed this one. I ran my thumb along the first mark in the row. Then moved to the next mark.
Sketch got that one. Self -defense, but still, we didn’t need him getting fingered for the kill, justification or not.
My thumb lingered on the two marks that followed. Mine .
I’d gone to “talk” to the gangbanger KC and Sketch jumped in an alley and let walk away.
He wasn’t alone, though. His buddy, the fourth member of the squad was with him.
I’d beaten confessions out of them both.
Their bodies were at least sixty miles away.
Maybe someday some curious sort might find their bones. If they dug deep enough.
Each mark told a story. I wondered at the ones between. Who were they? What had they done to warrant being enshrined on Carl’s altar.
What bothered me most, Carl took credit for kills that weren’t his.
Except for Fish taking up the diagonal. If only I could prove that one, we’d all sleep easier.
And perhaps the line in the last row. It sat all by itself, like the first one. Rose . Something whispered her name to me. The mark was faint, as if it wasn’t a done deal yet.
I tore the hidden cameras and motion detectors KC and I planted down. Any evidence we’d ever been at Carl’s got bagged. I called Skinner to let him know what I was doing.
“ Wolf’s pissed. Why aren’t you here?”
“ Carl’s setting us up. It’s going down tonight.” Or tomorrow. Knowing Carl , it would be tomorrow. Which made it strange he wasn’t here right now.
Skinner’s silence wasn’t comforting. “ Are you sure?”
I stared at that mark. “ Yeah . He’s got Rose .”
“ The fuck, man? When ? How’d he grab her? I’m getting my keys.”
I stopped him from doing something stupid like leaving before a major meeting. “ Sit your ass back down. She went to him all by herself.”
The squeak of his rolling chair told me he’d followed orders. “ You’ve got to be shitting me.”
I wasn’t. It had taken me too damn long to get pissed off enough to move.
She’d gutted me. Watching her walk out that door almost took me out of the game.
I tried to talk myself out of going after her.
But then I remembered that KC and I planted shit at Carl’s house.
That gave me the incentive to come here, if only to protect the club. Because nothing else mattered.
They were all I had left. And even that connection felt empty, as if it had met some previously unknown expiration date and I was just acting out the motions without any meaning behind them.
I cared enough to warn Skinner to stay put, but was I leading by example?
No . I was doing unauthorized and likely unnecessary dirty work when I was supposed to be basking in a promotion.
The celebration, with all those clubs present, was important. Yet I was making no attempt to rush back.
A big part of my heart was asking, “ So what if I was late for the vote?” I rationalized that ambivalence, telling myself that even if my actions here cost me the spot, I’d protect the club with my dying breath.
Or , if killing Carl and Rose myself was what it took to keep my brothers out of the crosshairs, then, in the words of that damned woman, so mote it be .
Skinner sputtered out a single word. “ Why ?”
“ What ?” His question came at me sideways because my head was elsewhere.
“ Why the fuck did she leave you? What the fuck did you do?”
“ I didn’t do anything.”
“ Oh , you fucking know you did something. You always do something. Did you boss her around or some shit? Did you threaten her again?”
Asshole . “ Since when are you on her side?” I was hanging my ass out at Carl’s house to protect the club, and he had the nerve to accuse me of causing this bullshit?
“ Listen —”
“ No .”
“ See ? That’s why she left your ass. You never fucking listen to anyone. FYI , I’m voting against you for that. We don’t need another egomaniac like Jackson in this place.”
“ I’m not an egomaniac.” I wasn’t, was I ? I listened to all their bullshit.
“ When it comes to women, you sure the fuck are. You treat them like objects. I’m surprised it took her this long to wise up.”
I stared at the screen of my phone trying to figure out where this was coming from. Skinner droned on about me ordering Rose around. Using Carl’s bargain as a reason to force her to stay. Then went as far as saying I deserved to have my ass dumped.
“ Go to hell,” I told him during a strategic break in his rant.
“ Seeing as you’re there right now, I don’t think there’s room. Go find that woman and apologize.”
I didn’t have time for this. I hung up on his dumb ass and dialed Wolf because like it or not, I was running late.
“ Where the fuck are you?”
Not him, too. “ Covering the club’s ass. We left shit at Carl’s . And we sure as hell don’t need it here anymore.”
“ And why’s that?” His tone was measured, almost accusatory.
I wasn’t going to tell him Rose left me. “ A bunch of bullshit. I’ll be there for the meeting as soon as I can. And tell Sprout that Danielle better keep her pregnant ass off the back deck until I find Carl .” And murder his sorry ass.
“ Where’s Rose ?”
Fucker . I was beginning to hate the fact Jackson picked Wolf as his successor. He knew me too damn well. But I knew my place, even if I never got rewarded for it. “ With him,” I begrudgingly admitted.
“ Ah .”
“ Ah , nothing. I’ll be there as soon as I get this shit secured. Then you all can do that damn vote.”
“ Don’t bother.” He hung up on me.
On me .
They fucking needed me. Wolf needed me.
No one needs me.
“ Not now, Rose .”
If I don’t go back, someone else will die.
I placed a finger on the very last hash mark. “ Yeah . You . And you left me anyway.”
It hurt. Maybe Skinner was right. I was the bad guy here.
She's property. Carl’s voice echoed in my head. With it, I remembered the evil glint in his eye when he spoke those words.
Property .
You treat women like objects.
Carl only loves himself.
I was a fucking idiot. That’s what I missed in all this.
Carl wasn’t in love with Rose like I thought he was.
He considered her property. Something he could loan out and take back at will.
Someone who he needed to “break” in order to be perfect.
As if Rose didn’t have a will of her own, and was for sale.
And he was such an…egomaniac—gods Skinner , get out of my head—he thought he could dictate the where and the when of all of it. I dialed John .
“ What’s the address of that land Rose sold?”
“ What are you talking about?” His kids were loud in the background.
“ The farm that the church wanted. You said they started to build a church on that land.”
He rattled off an address, and I scribbled it onto the palm of my hand.
“ Tell me that Rose is with you and safe.”
John was as bad as Wolf . “ I can’t do that.”
“ You asshole.”
More than one child piped up demanding a coin for the swear jar. “ Blame that one on me. I’m going to try to find her, okay?”
“ You are?”
Was I ? Yes . Even if she hated me for being a demanding, ego-driven jerk, I’d save her from Carl . I finally answered his question. “ Yeah .”
He quickly relayed information where the church foundation had been laid, and described where her grandmother’s old farmhouse was just in case. “ I’d guess Carl would choose the church, though.”
It sounded like a place he’d choose. I thanked John and ended the call. Then entered the address into my GPS .
Right before I left Carl’s , I touched the hammer hanging from the chain around my neck. As I did, I used my thumbnail to dig at that last hashmark as if I could cancel it out by will alone. “ Odin , Thor , grant me strength, wisdom, and speed. I need that woman.”
The night turned darker and more violent. Wind gusted across the road, pushing me around every time I broke into the open. I fought for each mile.
And the entrance to the property was blocked. It was one of those fancy electronic gates that only worked if you had a transmitter in your vehicle. I had to leave my bike there and slip under the gate to proceed on foot.
My boots slipped on the loose gravel as I ran along the road toward the hill that loomed in the distance. I missed my damn running shoes.
A flash of lightning bounced through the clouds. The distant rumble of thunder followed after a few moments. The wind picked up again, pushing against me.
My feet pounded on the soil. With each stride I drove myself to move faster than I ever had before. Visibility was for shit. Low clouds clung to the valleys as the storm overhead boiled in place. Another bolt flashed behind the clouds, with that meager light I picked out the shape of Carl’s truck.
The cab was illuminated by the dome light.
While I couldn’t see what was going on, I sensed Carl was there.
He was digging around for something, but I was too far away to rush up on him.
And if I kept moving like I was, he’d be sure to notice me.
I slowed down for stealth, crawling along the edges of the road and keeping hidden by the overgrowth of weeds that had taken over the slope.
The light cut off and I heard the soft thud of the door. Within minutes, I finally reached the top of the hill and slipped next to the truck.
I used it for cover to spy on Carl .
And froze.
Rose was strung up like a sacrifice. Naked and limp. Her skin was bruised and, in some places, cut. Blood trickled from a wound on her ribs. It snaked down her body and dripped from her toes.
My knees gave out.
I was too slow. My body had failed me.