Chapter 25
Diablo
I fucking hate coming here. I hate the loud metal clang of the prison gates, I hate being searched, I hate the way the lights give me a headache, and I hate the waiting; especially if there are loads of families with kids.
The thought of kids only getting to see their parents and family members through a pane of glass and speaking down a telephone makes me feel like shit.
“Visitor for Frank Sharpe,” the guard at the main desk calls.
Here we go…
I walk into a room full of booths around the edge, each with glass opening out onto a corridor around the room; the inmates sit on that side, and we sit in here.
I’m directed to one of the booths and make my way over; the seats are round metal, still warm from the person who just left. I wait for Frank to arrive.
When he does, the first thing I notice is how much he’s aged.
When he went in, he still had some black in his hair, but now it’s all gray.
Even his beard is gray, and I’ve never even seen him with a beard before.
The skin on his face is loose, with wrinkles around his eyes and across his forehead; but his eyes, they’re still sharp and bright blue, just as I remember them.
We reach for the phone receiver at the same time; the only difference is that both of his hands move because of the cuffs.
“Hey, Son,” he says, his voice rough and gravelly.
I hate it when he calls me son.
“You look good,” he says, “even with the broken nose and bruises you’re still a handsome son of a bitch.”
“Yeah, well you look like shit. What’s with the beard?”
“I was going for distinguished.”
“Hmm, fair enough,” I say, “what do you want, Frank?”
Hopefully he’ll get to the point so I can get out of this shithole.
“Frank?” he asks, his brows raising. “What, I’m not Pops anymore?”
“Fine,” I mutter, deciding to pick my battles. “What do you want, Pops?”
“Do you call Sofía’s new husband Pops?”
“Come on, you know the rules,” I say.
“I do, but a little birdy told me you haven’t been sticking to the rules… so why should I?”
“What are you talking about?”
He looks at me, the expression on his face smug, and that just makes me nervous.
“Our deal, Son, was that you would give the club everything you have, and more importantly, back me in any decisions I make about the club. In exchange, I’d grant your mother the divorce she so desperately wanted, and I’d leave Donovan alone.”
“And how exactly haven’t I kept my part of the deal?” I ask.
“Well, word is that you’ve gotten yourself a cute piece of ass, and she’s been, how shall I put this, very distracting. ”
My body fills with hot rage and I grip the phone even tighter. How the fuck does he know about Elizabeth? And hearing him refer to her as a piece of ass… let’s just say he’s lucky the fucking glass is between us. I take a breath; I need to stay calm and get his mind away from her.
“She’s not in the picture anymore, and it was nothing,” I say.
“Hmm,” he says, taking a moment to pause and think. “So tell me, if she’s not in the picture anymore, and it was, as you say, nothing, why were you fighting the VP of Diablos Rojos in the Pit over her, when we’re so close to making a deal with them?”
I shrug. “It wasn’t like that. I needed to fight, he requested me, that’s all. It was nothing to do with her.”
“That’s not how I heard it went down.”
“Well who was there, me or you?” I ask, my raised voice only making him laugh.
Shit. I need to get my emotions under control; I can’t let him get to me.
“Look,” I say, calmly this time, “we both went hard, he pissed me off, I ended up winning, but we’re all good now, it’s sorted.”
Frank nods. “You always were a scrapper, could take a beating for sure, but gave as good as you got too.”
“And where do you think I learned that?”
“Oh, don’t give me that shit,” he says, “I did you a favor. You wouldn’t be the man you are today if I hadn’t been so hard on you.”
Elizabeth’s voice echoes in my mind… Too much was put on you as a child, and you shouldn’t have had to deal with th at…
“Whatever,” I say, shaking my head to get rid of the memory. “Like I said, we’re all good with Diablos Rojos, you don’t need to worry.”
“So the club’s going to work with them?”
There’s a glint in his eyes; he’s probably hoping that Lobos Aulladores will go back to making their money illegally. Frank hated it when we went legit, but after he got sentenced to life, he couldn’t be El Jefe anymore, and had no say in the new direction the club decided to go in.
“We haven’t decided yet.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“I mean, that we haven’t decided yet.”
“Then you need to stick to your side of the fucking deal. Do you know how long I’ve been working in here to set this up?”
“Set this up?” I ask, “I thought they helped you out and now they’re saying we owe them a debt.”
Frank laughs. “Come on, I arranged it so that I’d need their help, I thought that would be obvious to you.”
I rest my head on my hand, letting out an exhale. Shit… he’s been planning this the whole time.
“Pops, you’re not El Jefe anymore—”
“I will always be El Jefe!” he shouts, spittle landing on the glass between us
“Keep it down inmate,” a guard calls.
Frank leans in, his eyes full of rage. “I built that club to what it was, I was the one who made us the money, grew our numbers, earned us respect. Me.”
“It’s not like that anymore,” I say, “the club is different now.”
“And together, we’re going to change it back.”
“Frank— ”
“Are you forgetting our deal?” he asks, and that’s when my heart drops in my chest. “If you don’t back me in this, help me get the club back to what it was before, then our deal is off.
Instead of leaving Sofía and Donovan alone, I’ll get very involved in their lives.
And, well, I hear your girl really is a fine piece of ass, so I know a lot of people who’d love to get more involved in her life—”
“Shut the fuck up!” I slam my hand against the glass, right in front of his face.
“Hey!” a guard shouts, “no raising your voice or hitting the glass.”
I quickly hold my hands up and apologize, before turning back to face Frank. His expression is fixed in a cruel smile.
“Do we have a deal… Son?”
I want to tell him to go fuck himself. I want to tell him that if he ever threatens Mom or Donovan again it will be the last thing he does.
I want to tell him that if he ever even thinks about Elizabeth, I’ll destroy him.
But I can’t, we made a deal. And if I don’t back him, I know he has connections; I don’t even want to think about what he could do to them.
“Fine,” I say.
He grins. “Smart choice. I think you’ve lost sight of the big picture here. You’ve forgotten everything I ever taught you. The club is the most important thing in your life…”
He drones on, his usual lecture about the club, brotherhood, the open road… I’ve heard it so many times I know it by heart. But all I want to do is get the fuck out of this place and get as far away from him as I can.
After leaving the prison, I couldn’t face the thought of going back to the clubhouse.
Learning that Frank’s manufactured this whole deal with Diablos Rojos, that he’s trying to take the club down a path we’ve moved away from, and that I have no choice but to help him…
it’s fucking with my head. I got on my bike and rode, and I’ve found myself at the last place I’d have ever expected.
Miguel answers the door but he doesn’t say a word, just opening it wider to let me in.
“Mamá,” I say, walking into the living room.
Her face lights up as she sees me, and I don’t deserve it, but I let her hug me… and I don’t let go for ages. She eventually releases me and takes me to the kitchen.
“Necesitas comer, mijo!” she says.
She’s obsessed with feeding me; it’s after 9 p.m. and way too late to eat anything, but I know she won’t take no for an answer, so I don’t argue.
“Do you want a drink?” Miguel asks.
“Please,” I say. Usually I’d leave it at that, but after my time with Frank, I know I need to be nicer to Miguel, I’m happy my mom has him. “I’d appreciate it, thank you.”
I take a seat at the breakfast bar while Mom lays out plates of food: leftovers from dinner, snacks, there’s everything. She’s even muttering to herself about cooking something special for me too.
I tuck into the leftovers in front of me, “This is perfect, Mamá, gracias. ”
Miguel returns with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses; I’ve got to admit, he has great taste when it comes to drinks, this isn’t the cheap stuff I usually have.
“I’m going to go and make up the guest bedroom,” Mom says, hurrying out of the kitchen.
“She’s happy you’re here,” Miguel says, pouring out two glasses.
“Yeah, I know I left pretty quick last time,” I say, “thanks for letting me stay here, I didn’t want to go back to the clubhouse, and I was closer to here anyway.”
“You’re always welcome. Is everything okay?”
“I had to go and see Frank.”
“Ah, I can imagine that’s not easy for you. Do you want to talk about it?”
I look over at him, this is probably the most we’ve ever said to each other.
Judging by the look on his face, I’m guessing Mom has told him all about Frank.
Other than El Jefe, I’ve never had a decent father figure to go to for advice, or even just to talk to, and suddenly I want that.
I blame Elizabeth, before her I bottled up all my shit, she taught me to talk about stuff.
“Is that okay?” I ask.
“Of course,” he says, doubling the shot in my glass. “I’m guessing we’ll be needing this.”
“Yeah, probably.”
He nods. “So what happened with Frank?”
“He’s trying to get the club involved in illegal work again, he’s backed us into a bit of a corner with another club. It’s made things… complicated.”
I go on to explain to him about how voting works at the club, it’s ‘majority rules’, and there are seven of us.
Tipo and Walrus follow El Jefe with whatever he feels is best, they’re his guys.
But Tank, Slim, and Pretty Boy, if I asked them to, they’d follow my vote.
So even if El Jefe votes one way, I have the power to swing the vote the other way.
“That’s a lot of responsibility for you,” Miguel says, taking a drink.
“Yeah, it is.”
“And this time, whichever way the vote goes, neither ends well. You’re either backed into a corner by another club, who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty, or you have to get your hands dirty with them.”
“Exactly,” I say.
He mulls over what I’ve said so far, swirling the amber liquid around his glass.
“What else did Frank have to say?”
“The usual stuff I’ve been hearing all my life, the club comes first, nothing is better than the open road, the brotherhood, you have to put that above all else no matter what.”
“Hmm.” He nods and thinks for a moment. “What happened next?”
“That was it,” I say, “I left and came to see both of you.”
“Yes, but what happened to Frank next?”
“What do you mean?”
He chuckles. “It’s not a trick question; I mean it literally. What happened to Frank next?”
I shrug. “I dunno, a guard came and took him back to his cell.”
“Exactly.”
I look at him confused, no idea what point he’s trying to make…
He sighs. “Frank is talking about the club and the open road, how they’re the most important things, but he spends twenty-three hours a day in a cell, and he’s never getting out. He’s never going to ride again, the only road he’ll see is from a prison transport vehicle.”
He pauses for a moment, studying my face.
“If the club gets back into criminal activity, that’s where you’ll end up too, is that what you want? Because if it is, then go ahead. Vote, you know your guys will follow you, and that can be your life. Or, you step out from behind your father, and you make your own path.”
I shake my head. “It’s not that simple.”
“I never said it would be simple, especially if the rest of your club wants to get back into criminal activity too.”
“No… That’s not what I meant. I don’t think any of us want to get involved in the illegal stuff again.”
“So vote that way, and focus on finding a solution to solve the problem with the other club.”
“I can’t vote that way,” I say, even I can hear the heaviness in my voice.
“Why not?” he asks.
Shit… I’ve never told anyone this…
“When Frank went to prison, I made a deal with him.” I look at Miguel and see the realization cross his face as he puts two and two together.
“If I follow his lead on club business and stay loyal to him, he’ll leave Mom and Donovan alone.
And now he’s added Elizabeth into that deal too.
If I go against him, they could all be in trouble. ”
Miguel starts to say something, but he’s interrupted by my mom shouting across the kitchen.
“You what?”
“Mamá,” I say, standing and moving towards her, I hadn’t even heard her come back downstairs.
“ángel! Why would you do such a thing?”
“I didn’t have a choice, Mamá.” I reach for her, but she pulls away.
“He was never going to give you a divorce, he’d have continued to haunt you.
And then Donovan… you saw he was already starting to take more of an interest in him and ge t him involved in club business, I had to stop that from happening.
You know how smart Donovan is, do you think Frank would have ever let him go to college?
And he needs even more protection from Frank now, considering he’s… well, you know.”
Tears fill her eyes as she comes to terms with why I had to distance myself from her, why I stayed in contact with Frank, and why he granted her the divorce so easily.
“But ángel, you didn’t have to make a deal with the devil to save us, we could have found a way.”
“I was doing what I thought was best for you both, Mamá.”
I reach for her again and this time she lets me pull her into a hug, and there we stay, her crying against my chest as I try my best to comfort her.
It’s the early hours of the morning and I’m lying awake in the guest room; partly because I can’t stop thinking about the fact that I’ve shared this bed with Elizabeth and I hate being in it alone…
but also because Miguel’s words are repeating in my mind.
What he said about Frank never riding again, never being free.
I always knew Frank was full of shit, but seeing it from that perspective, I’m realizing his entire life philosophy is also a load of shit.
I love the club, and I love my brothers; I’d take a bullet for any one of them. And of course I love my bike, and the ride. But by prioritizing the club and some shitty rule my dad made up nearly thirty years ago, it means I’ve lost the only woman I’ve ever loved, and my brother… my own blood.
I’ve really fucked this up… But I can make it right, I know I can.