Chapter 18 Leo
Leo
Ican’t tell if it has been three or four days since Hopper ran me off the road.
Two layers of duct tape cover my eyes, and my wrists are red raw from rope burns.
Pain shoots across my entire body, no matter how much I shuffle around to relieve the aches and stiffness.
My ankles are bound, not one inch gives, making it harder to stay sat up when the van throws me around.
I've lost track of time, night or day, but I do know I'm hundreds of miles away from home. When I've been awake, the van has been constantly on the move. I think we’ve stopped once for what I guess was gas. Music blasted from the front, which again, I guess was to mask any noise I could’ve made.
“Shit will work out, brother.”
I look over at Luca and notice all the minor changes in him lately. Being the president of the Dog City chapter has made him grow faster and harder and he sits across from me as a man in his own right. He’s no longer the little brother who annoyed the shit out of me.
“It won’t if I don’t get this sorted and soon.”
“Mom was right, Dad just needs time. You know what he’s like when he loses someone he actually cares about. Fuck, they still bang on about the old guy from years ago who got killed.”
That’s what I’m thinking about. This is Slade and Dex.
I don’t know how close he was to Shane, apart from wearing the same patch.
But it’s still another dead body to hold against me.
Like Mom said, Slade was one of the first people he trusted and could call a friend.
That shit is serious to someone like my father.
“I wouldn’t sweat it, remember who we are, we’ll get through the shit and come out the other side. The losses will always be remembered but life goes on, and so will the club. So get the fuck out of your head and be the president this club needs, and what Dad expects of his son.”
I mull over his advice and nod.
“Leo, come on,” he drawls. “Every fucker who patches in knows the downfalls, that being killed is more likely than not. Slade, Dex, even Dad knows they’ve had an epic run. Apart from Pope, who have you seen live to an old age?”
I go to answer when he adds, “I’m not saying it’s unachievable, just highly unlikely.”
“We believe we’re gonna live that long,” I point out.
“And we will, we’re not like everyone else.” His phone buzzes and he smiles when he reads the text. It doesn’t take a genius to work out the message is from Victoria. He only smiles like this with her.
“I’m gonna head back to the city. My wife needs me.”
Again, it doesn’t take a genius to work out how she needs him. If she were in danger, he wouldn’t be smiling.
“You shouldn’t ride alone.”
“I’ll be fine. Nothing will get in my way getting home to my wife.”
Rolling my eyes, I remind him, “It doesn’t quite work like that, little brother.”
He snorts. “Maybe not for you, but in my world, it fuckin’ does.”
His confidence borderlines on arrogance, but I know him, he truly believes nothing could stop him.
Rising from my chair, Luca stands and puts his phone away.
“Call if you need me, we’ll ride out before we end the call.”
“I’ll call but not till I have a plan.”
He nods and we leave my office. We head for the side door when the prospect tells me, “Your dad left, and he ain’t come back yet.”
He walks off and I push open the door. Luca follows me outside and we head over to our bikes.
“Where are you heading?”
Answering my brother, I tell him, “He’ll be at the cemetery. I’ll sort it out with him.”
“Good. You want me to ride with you, make sure you’re all safe and dandy.”
“Fuck you. Get home to Victoria and let me know when you get there.”
“Sure.”
We both bring our bikes to life and as we ride out of the gates, I turn right and he makes a left. It’s instinct to keep my eyes open, checking my mirrors for anyone coming up behind me.
If Dad isn’t at the cemetery, he could be at the lakes. He used to go there occasionally when I was younger. He said it was a good place to think shit over.
Glancing in the mirror, headlights shine in the distance. They seem to be maintaining a steady speed while I pick up speed. Keeping my eye on them, I try not to let the paranoia fester and take root in my head.
The cemetery isn’t far, and I’ll be happier when I jump the gates and put distance between me and the road.
The pastor locks up at dusk, and I wonder how Dad would get in if he is there.
He’s still a force to be reckoned with, but scaling gates and jumping over is a little out of his reach.
He groans swinging his leg over his bike these days.
Some of the brothers laugh but I never have. I know a day will come when age comes for me and I’ll turn into my father.
The van, out of nowhere, comes closer up behind me and I look over my shoulder.
The light blocks my view to glimpse who is driving.
My hold wobbles and I face forward to regain firm control as I ride.
Three seconds, that’s how long I have for my brain to register that it wasn’t the van coming up behind me that was the threat.
The fucker coming at me is and it’s driving on my side of the road.
There’s no time to dodge it or even slow down.
I still try and I’m flown from my bike when the van drives into me.
The sound of metal-on-metal screeching fills the night, and I brace for impact as I hit the ground and roll repeatedly along the road.
Long moments pass after I come to a stop and I’m afraid to move.
It was clear it was intentional. I should be on my feet and shooting.
Yet I take too long deciding to slowly move each part of my body, that is screaming out in pain.
Large hands firmly grip onto my arms and the back of my head, two people drag me up to my feet.
I struggle to get my balance as they rush me across the tarmac.
My feet hang heavily but they would work if I was given the chance to do it in my own time.
I should be fighting back, attempting to get away, but everything is happening slowly, too slowly, or I hit my head?
I’m flying again until my cheek lands hard on cold metal.
I’m forced into a sitting position, and two men work quickly to tie me up before jumping out and getting back on the road.
The driver of the van, sighs in frustration and climbs over the seat and digs my phone out of my pocket.
“Can’t have you gettin’ free and callin’ for help, can we?”
It’s the only words I hear as he blasts the stereo and wheel spins back onto the road.
The sound of the door opening sets my shoulders straight and I expect anything to happen. The tape is ripped from my eyes, and I quickly close them, shielding them from the intrusive light. I gasp in the fresh air and savor the sliver of sun on my skin.
Hopper sits his old ass on the back and lights a cigarette. “I’ve had this pain in my chest since I let Lily go,” he begins, exhaling his smoke. “It intensified after she went and killed herself, but it’s magically disappeared since I got my hands on you.”
Just like I saw at Lily’s funeral, he’s theatrical with a side helping of madness. I keep my mouth shut, the only part of me that hasn’t been tied down.
“Can I ask you a question?” I don’t answer, and he carries on regardless. “Did you see her before she ate all the pills? I wouldn’t have thought she would have had the strength to swallow so many.”
“I saw what you and your club did to her.”
“Ah, he speaks!” he boasts, then sighs. “She had never been as beautiful as she was the last time I saw her. Even her blood glistened beautifully under my club lights.”
My face contorts in disgust. “You nearly killed her.”
“Tut-tut. It was a club effort.”
I close my mouth and stare. The guy has lost his head. “I would have loved her to my dying day.” He sighs. “In all my years I’d never met a bitch like her, she was something special and I treated her as such.”
It’s hard to believe but I say nothing. If he needs to believe him and Lily were love’s young dream, that shit is on him.
“But then she left me, and I couldn’t have that. What would you do if your old lady left ya?”
I snort. “I wouldn’t try to fuckin’ kill her, that’s for fuckin’ sure.”
“You must not love her as much as you tell her you do.”
“I guarantee we have different concepts of what love is.”
He shrugs. “Maybe, maybe not. But your old lady wouldn’t disappear on ya, would she? She wouldn’t rob your cash and disappear in the wind. You never know what you’re capable of until you’re pushed into it.”
“I know exactly what I’m capable of, and I’d rather die than lay hands on my wife.”
His laughter is mocking. “Such a gentleman.” He clears his throat and continues, “Anyway, you’re probably wonderin’ what I’m up to?"
“Can't say I’ve given it much thought.”
He laughs and it turns into a hacking great cough. He pounds his fist against his chest, but it doesn’t help shit.
“From one president to another, I know ya lyin’.
” He takes a hit from his cigarette, and I wish I had my own, but I'd rather burn in Hell than ask for one. “I thought about beatin’ and killin’ ya, but it’s so predictable.
” I hate how theatrical he is. “When I want to break a man, I like to make sure they never come back from it. It’s why I’ve kept you waitin’.
I have it on good authority that your VP and your daddy are at odds.
Your VP and two others left shortly after I spoke with your dad and he was barkin’ out orders. ”
Whose fucking good authority? After the chapters rode out of town, there were only a few of us left.
Hopper stands and flicks his half-smoked cigarette out of sight. “I’m feelin’ generous today. I’ve got a gift for you and one for your father.”
Fuck me if I want to know but again, I don’t ask. He leans into the van and drags me to the doors by my ankles.
For every time he’s touched me, for running me off the road, for tying me up like an animal, it will come back on him tenfold.
Now more than ever I keep my face straight and my mouth shut. I steel my temper as JJ, Mason, and Myles are shoved forward, each of them with their wrists tied.
“Ah, Leo. I thought you’d be happy to have some company,” Hopper declares.
“So, what now? You’re gonna bore four of us to death instead of just me?” I snort.
His laughter irritates me to no end. “I’m gonna miss your sparklin’ personality.
” Without pausing between his theatrics and swinging his fist, he lands a right hook to Mason’s jaw.
Mase takes it with ease and subtly moves his jaw around.
“Between the four of you, you have nine kiddies. While I don’t like hurtin’ little ones, I'm gonna have to make them sad. Their daddies ain’t comin’ home. ”