Chapter Thirty-Nine
Blaze
I reached for Marchella’s wrist, but she was gone in a flash.
“She doesn't do well with these kinds of things,” Donnie murmured.
“Oh,” I dumbly responded, not really paying attention yet. Once I saw March’s car dart across the lot, my head swiveled back toward him.
He was staring at me in an odd way, a hint of a smile on his lips. He was the exact opposite of his brother. Where Mackie glared and chest thumped, Donnie was reserved and usually had a pleasant disposition about him.
“What?” I whispered, intrigued by the expression.
He shifted his head and pushed his lower lip out like he didn’t know. “Just never seen anyone look at my sister like that, all concerned and tender like. It’s nice. I’m glad you guys stumbled into each other’s paths. For real. Welcome to the family since I didn’t get a chance to tell you the other night.”
“Thanks.” I raised my beer toward him and sipped.
Mackie came out of the office with the water glass in his hand. The water was gone, but a few ice cubes remained. He swirled them in the glass and gravitated toward us.
“Can you call that one old girl and have her drop Nikki off at Dwayne’s place, or whatever?” he asked May.
“I got you, brother,” May assured, swiping screens without hesitation.
He punched a number and put the phone to his ear.
“Ey, hey what you doin’, though?” May turned into an insta-fuckboy, leaving me and Donnie to scrunch our faces like weasels while we stood there listening.
“Alright, alright. Well, shit I was wanting to slide through tonight,” he purred, all but striking a pose on the post.
“This hoodrat.” Donnie quietly laughed, drawing a nod of agreement out of Makaveli.
“Yeah, but listen– Man, these mother fuckers got me strapped. I’m doin’ door duty ‘til ten,” He paused before stressing his next word, “And- they want me to take the boss's lady friend home. Yeah, I know. Fuckin’ bogus right. Like, why the fuck I gotta ferry something around that ain’t coming off no grass or ass, huh?”
Mackie started toward him, and Donnie and Makaveli both shot between them, encouraging his patience.
“I’m saying, though, you don’t think you could help me out or something?” He paused before adding, “I’m saying, like you could just come and scoop her up. Drop her off at her husband's house or whatever, and I could just slide over there when I get off, I ain’t even got to be involved with no club snatch, you feel me?”
He gave a throaty laugh that would have made any of Makaveli’s weekend girl’s proud, “That’s my girl. Nah, you know I ain’t got time for that anyway. She ain’t gonna let me fuck her the way I want to fuck. I’m trying to run through something that knows how to take pipe, you already know. I can’t be bothered with none of these mediocre leftovers. Besides, they said I could have whatever I want for my birthday– And I want you.
“Shoot me now,” Donnie mused under his breath.
“Me, mother fucker, I said it.” May laughed, “Aight then, you’ll be here in ten? At the clubhouse?”
He saluted Mackie with his chin, “Bet. See you then, beautiful.”
He hung up, and Mackie remained standing with his father’s hand urging caution at his shoulder.
“Take lube next time,” Mackie snapped after a few minutes. He thrust the waterglass into Donnie’s hand, and marched back to Nikki, shutting the door behind him.
May on the other hand, lifted a foot to plant his boot smoothly against the post and stared after him with a smile.
“He wishes he could handle bitches the way that I do,” May carried on.
“Yeah, if we all just had a fraction of your charm, cuz,” I teased.
“God help us all,” Makaveli mumbled, before letting himself into the office.
“So,” Donnie drawled, “What time does your jewelry kick back on?”
“My movement was approved from two to ten.”
He glanced at the clock, and I followed his gaze. It was ten after eight.
I rubbed the back of my neck and gnawed on my lips only to be met with a slap to the gut.
“Knock it off, didn’t I tell you I had this? Trust me. We’re brothers now, patch and marriage, right?” Donnie smiled.
I sighed, but it didn’t relax any of the tension in my shoulders. I didn’t have any problems going and setting someone’s house on fire. I didn’t have any problems beating the brakes off some bastard who liked to terrorize women and children, but I really, really didn’t want to have another jailhouse phone conference with Grandpa Winehopper.
We all sat around drinking and watching the clock and waiting.
After a while, a horn blasted outside, drawing Mackie and Makaveli both out of the office. Makaveli’s brows were already bunching with irritation and his mouth a thin, tense line and he headed toward the bar.
The horn blasted with impatience a second time, and he spun on heel, redirecting toward the door with heavy, purposeful steps.
“Fuckin’ kids and broads don’t know nothin’ about respect these days,” Makaveli mumbled as he blew past me.
My head instinctively followed the promise of a show, but then I heard a distinctive click and looked back to see Mackie checking to see if a beretta was loaded.
“You don’t want that thing–” I started to advise, having heard Oak voice his displeasure over the model and its habit of jamming at the worst moment, many times before.
“Yeah, when did you learn where the safety was? Today?” Mackie snapped, giving me a hard stare as he followed his father outside.
Donnie put a hand on my arm. “Don’t take the bait, he’s always like that after they talk. It isn’t personal.”
I gave a single, unimpressed nod and followed him outside. Makaveli was openly scowling at a legging-clad girl with pink hair that May was sucking face with.
“Remember that patience you counseled earlier,” I couldn’t help but whisper toward Makaveli.
“Blaze–” Makaveli drew my name out all low like but stopped short of his usual threats.
“Yeah?” I poked the bear a little more just to keep his attention on me instead of May’s sidepiece or whatever she was…
“Suck it, wise ass,” Makaveli growled under his breath, and nudged the clubhouse door open with a crude bump of his boot, “Mackie, get the fuck out here. Get her in the car. Get– Get this shit out of here. I can’t–”
He made it inside and actually paused to hold the door so Mackie could escort Nikki through it. She was wrapped in a crocheted blanket and huddled under his arm like she thought the sky might fall on her.
“Let’s get you taken care of,” Donnie mumbled, before raising his voice a little so Mackie might hear him, “We’ll be right back, gotta see a man about a bracelet.”
We rolled across the lot, taking note of the thinning police presence over at Steel Cages.
“Are you sure this person won’t tell the probation office or the special court?” I yelled over the bike once we were preparing to turn onto the highway.
Donnie laughed and looked at me like I was adorable, “Blaze, I am the bracelet man. Just trust me.”
He took off and I shot after him. He made the short journey toward my house, but slowed a few blocks from the top of the cemetery hill.
“Listen,” He placed both feet on the road while we idled and leaned close, “at the top of the hill, on the road in front of you, buddy owns a construction company. Roofing or some shit, I don’t know. But he has a work truck with a trailer full of equipment behind it.”
I instantly had images of him using a power tool to try and remove the ankle monitor and I’m sure my expression reflected as much horror, “What the fuck does that have to do with my ankle monitor?”
“It’s what we’re going to use to kill it. You wait here, go around the block twice, then head down the hill, make sure your engine is loud when you’re coming so it will help mask the sound of that truck starting, it has a diesel engine. Circle around and wait for me here with the bike.”
“Wh– You’re going to steal a car to get my ankle monitor off– A truck, rather?”
He laughed, “No– I’m going to kill that thing. Just go around the block like I said, it will be over in a flash.”
He fanned me onward and took off like he assumed I’d listen.
“Shit,” I huffed, but I did what he said, what the fuck else could I do? He was already in motion!
I took a nice slow ride around the block twice, then turned right onto the hill. The diesel engine stirred as I neared it and as I got to the bottom, I looked back in my mirror before I turned and saw that diesel truck and trailer barreling after me with no damn driver.
“What the–?” I tried not to lay on it any more than usual as I made the right, and drove past my house.
I noticed the driveway was empty, but the truck hit the phone pole at the bottom of the T making a vicious cracking sound. The lines swayed and I gunned it around the corner. I met up with Donnie who already had it pulling into traffic when I drew near.
“Come on!” He roared, and we raced back to Steel Cages.
“Park at the club and go to Steel Cages. Say hello to the uniforms as you pass, let them see you going into work,” he advised.
“Why the fuck would I do that, won’t they look for me later?”
“Fuck no, they’re going to be doing door to door checks on everybody who wears one of those- at least in the area of the outage. If they’ve already seen you, they’re less likely to stop at your house.”
“You’re right,” I realized.
Several uniformed officers watched as I walked from the clubhouse to the front door of Steel Cages.
“That’s a crime scene, you can’t go in there,” one of them barked.
I spun around and stared at him. Something about authoritative tones never did set well with me. The only man who had any right speaking to me that way had been gone so long I wasn’t sure if I could conjure the sound of his voice anymore.
He started to step toward me, and a lady with a county uniform put her hand on his chest, “I’ll handle this deputy Parks, why don’t you help Marjorie look for shell casings, hm?”
He glared at her so long I thought he might disobey her, but he didn’t.
“Sorry about that.” She smiled, before holding a dainty hand out toward me, “I’m Lisa Philpot, Sheriff of Maryette County.”
I tipped my chin at her, and tried to avert my gaze, hoping upon hope she would read a social cue and fuck off. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen, and I knew it. So, I eventually gave up and looked back at her.
Her gaze hadn’t wavered, but her head was cocked and something between a smile and a question rested in the corner of her eyes.
“What?” I blurted out.
“Blaze Aviston?”
Well shit, that was never good.
I cleared my throat and waited to be told I had another fucking warrant.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” she asked, drawing my attention back to her at once.
“Should I?” I kept my tone polite.
She grunted and smiled, her eyes filling with something I’d become so familiar with I could recognize it anywhere– Sympathy.
“I’ve been the sheriff here a long time. I remember you and your mother. How is she?”
“She’s good– she’s here on vacation from–”
“Georgia,” she finished my sentence for me. “You two started over with Oakland O’Brian, right?”
“You mean Agent Oakland O’Brian?”
She gave a sharp, startled laugh and placed a hand to her chest, “That’s a helluva vest change, ain’t it?”
“They’re both federal agents now.” I had to catch myself from saying feds, I’d grown so used to speaking like the locals. “But– as long as I can remember Oak he’s been in uniform, so it never surprised me.”
She nodded, that fond smile firmly in place.
“Yes, he was a marine, right?”
I nodded, “He and Easy both.”
“That’s right. A shame what happened to him.”
I bristled, even if she hadn’t really given me cause. Maybe it was the way my mother always judged Easy, “Yeah, what exactly is it you think happened to him?”
“He was given a criminal record instead of the number to a therapist. It's cases like his that led to the formation of the very court program you’re in.”
I nodded and smirked. “You remembered me from your house arrest list, is what you meant to say earlier–”
I dismissed all of her concerns as some effort to gain information, and started surveying the lot again. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but I was itching to get the fuck away from her.
“No, I remember you as the little boy who was stuck in a very grown-up mess. A child who never had the buffer of a safe space and the attention of his parents–” She shut up rather abruptly when I turned on her at the mention of my parents.
She held her hands up in a defensive gesture, her tone going soft, “I was there, Blaze.”
“Yeah? For what fuckin’ part?” I spat, growing impatient with her efforts to prove she knew me on some personal level.
She stilled when I cursed, and I actually felt bad for it a little.
“All of it. Let’s see– I think– The first time we met was at your aunt’s house.”
I snorted, “Yeah, I didn’t spend a lot of time at my aunt’s dope spo–”
The word dried in my mouth. I did have a memory of my aunt’s house. A very clear one of her suicide attempt, which surely included deputies and ambulances.
“She lived,” I blurted out, causing the sheriff to flinch and quietly study me until I clarified, “Joplin.”
“She did. She was sent to a hospital. That hospital had some of the last video surveillance we had of your father.”
“He visited her?” I forgot all about the club business, she had my full attention.
Sheriff Philpot gave an ‘of course’-style nod, “Absolutely. Anthony Aviston was a family man. You, him and your mother all three went to see her. The physician admitted it had a positive effect on the patient even if he had originally called because he thought Anthony Aviston a threat.”
“He threatened my aunt’s doctor?”
“No, it’s just the way he spoke, the doctor wasn’t used to biker speak.”
I sighed, “I’d give anything to see that footage.”
“You don’t have to give anything, you just have to file a freedom of information act form and we’ll give you a copy.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” I blurted out, only to hold a hand up apologetically, “I mean–”
She laughed, “You’re just like him, I see. I know what you meant, but yes– Swing by and we’ll get that for you, I caution, though– the content is sensitive, the conversation is with a physician relating to the incidents leading up to that hospitalization.”
“Gotcha.” I nodded and sucked in a breath realizing how much time had passed, “Listen, I’m on the clock with security for this place, but I’m going to get out of you guys’ hair a while. I’ll be over there on the edge of the lot.”
I pointed toward the bikes.
“Fair enough, we’ll flash the lights on the way out to let you know the lot is yours again, but the inside is off limits until I speak with Michael Miller.”
“Understood, appreciate ya.” I nodded and shoved my hands into my jean pockets before casually starting across the lot.
That forty-five had never felt heavier in the back of my pants.
I was convinced she could see it, then I was worried it was going to flop out.
“Fuck,” I exhaled, once I reached the clubhouse.
“Bout fuckin’ time,” May teased before shaking up with me.
“They said they’ll do the lights on the way past, so we know they’re gone for the night.” I told Makaveli, who was smoking a cigarette under the canopy.
“Great.” He rolled his eyes.
I used the remaining time to make sure I could be seen leaning against the wall or pacing with my phone on the edge of the lot. When the others came out, I put it in my pocket and made my way to my bike.