Chapter 33
LEGION
B racing my hand against the bedside table, I carefully shift to place my feet on the ground.
I haven’t ventured outside of this room yet, only limped to the attached lavatory when necessary, but if I spend another moment tucked away in this closet, out of sight, out of mind , I’m going to lose my fucking mind.
My motorcycle boots are beside the bed, and my ribs protest every breath as I stand and shove my feet into them.
I don’t risk further injury by bending to tie the laces.
I’m not going far. I just need to get outside for a while.
Before I do, I turn to the window behind the night table and carefully pull up the old blinds.
The stale smell of cigarettes will surely be a deterrent to Vanna when she returns, and the last thing I want to do is repel her.
I unlatch the locking mechanism and shove the window up.
Sharp pain tears through my sides as cool air hits me in the chest, nearly causing me to regret the effort.
I gaze at the other window on the opposite side of the bed and rule against it.
She’s due back any time now, and I expect she will be along to check in on me, soon…
I hope ... When she does, I refuse to be the invalid she left behind.
As I stuff my smokes and lighter in the pocket of my sweatpants and step to the door, I spot my leather jacket draped across a chair, immediately noticing it’s been cleaned.
Did she do this? The thought of Vanna tending to my leather eases the slight resentment I’ve harbored since her departure.
It is a line in this MC world…and she crossed it…
for me . I carefully slip the leather jacket on over my sweatshirt.
The welcome weight of it on my shoulders, congruent to the guilt over my bitterness at something she had little choice in.
She belongs to Keegan. She did all she could for me…
I run my fingers over the smooth leather covering my arm.
The blood, the dirt—all gone. Some harder clubs consider it bad luck.
That you’re removing the essence of all you’ve survived.
All you’ve done to get where you are. But I allow what she’s done to settle warmly in my chest, choosing to see this as a new beginning.
My angel of light…my Goddess…wiping my slate clean.
The cool air hits me once again when I step out onto the back patio, crisp and refreshing against my bruised face. I drag in the breath of a new day, my ribs nearly making me regret it instantly, but I ease myself down into one of the chairs and light up a smoke.
What I can see of the parking lot is empty, aside from the section of lot by Keegan’s repair shop.
It appears Mean Dean’s Machine Shop is open for business, and there are a few motorcycles and vehicles parked near the garage doors, my bike among them.
The rest of the Saviors MC must have nine-to-fives, and the Twisted Throttle isn’t open to the public until three this afternoon, which will be shortly.
So, this is what it’s like in a club where everyone works for a living… Poor bastards … I wonder how many of them miss the days before redemption.
A little red mustang pulls into the lot near the roadhouse, and the vibrant Cherry scuttles inside with another club girl and a few grocery bags. The slamming of the steel door behind them echoes across the quiet lot.
When the steel door behind me creaks open a few minutes later, the sound of clicking heels on cement follows.
“I thought you might have ventured out here,” Cherry says, stepping around the back of the chair to face me. “Are you hungry? I can fix you something.”
“Might I trouble you for a ride? I’ll make it worth your while if we stop by an ATM along the way.”
“ Oh , umm…” She pulls her own cell out to check the time. “The roadhouse opens in an hour…” The unease in her otherwise friendly tone is evident. I can’t blame her.
“How do you feel about loaning me your ride, and I’ll go myself?”
She purses her lips, green eyes scanning my visible injuries. “Do you think that’s a good idea in your condition?”
“Alright… How about I give you my debit card, you run it as credit, and pick up a new cellphone for me?”
“They took your phone but didn’t take your wallet? That’s odd.”
“Well, they took the cash I had in it. They took my weapons… They left me with my wallet and my smokes.”
“That was an interesting choice,” she says with a notable measure of suspicion.
“Actually, it was a message… But the next time I cross paths with them, they will be taking far more.”
The apprehensive look on her face morphs to genuine concern, and I’m certain it has everything to do with Axel.
“Then maybe you should just stay here. I’ll go.
” She holds her hand out, and I remove my wallet from the inner pocket of my cut to retrieve the card and give it to her.
“Any particular model?” she asks, gazing down at the card before her eyes dart back up to meet mine. “ Rusty Gunderson?”
I simply sit back and watch the kaleidoscope of emotions dance behind her emerald eyes as her mind sorts through all of the theories as to why I have their former Tail Gunner’s debit card. I witness the moment her racing thoughts land on hope…
“I’m afraid not,” I say, “though it makes sense why you’d come to the conclusion.”
She shifts in her boots and swallows before asking, “What conclusion?”
“That Rusty is the one I’ve entrusted my contingency plan to. He isn’t. I have other uses for him.”
“Clearly,” she says, tapping the card in her hand before tucking it into the back pocket of her skinny jeans. “I should go if I’m going to be back here before Dean gets in.”
“They’re back?”
“Yes.”
I fight the urge to smile. “Then you should hurry.”
And I should shower.
T he Morning Star Gentlemen’s Club… Sierra Vista…
Arizona… I type the name of the strip joint Legion claims to have owned and sold into the web browser on my phone.
I haven’t had a private moment until now to check without risking Vanna asking any questions.
The last thing I want to do is draw her attention to this unnerving connection.
My heart sinks as results populate, confirming its existence.
I scroll down to the business for sale link and click it.
It’s listed as off the market and last sold three months ago for…
“ Jesus fuck…” I drag a hand down my face and pause to grip my ticking jaw as I stare at the seven-figure number on the listing... The demonic bane of my existence is a fucking millionaire.
“Dean?” Cherry’s voice snaps me out of my trance, and I break my gaze away from the zeros on the screen to face her.
She’s carrying a plastic shopping bag and her keys in one hand, a debit card in the other.
“Legion asked me to pick him up a new cellphone, and he gave me this to make the purchase with.”
She strolls up to me and places the debit card down on the bar. I glance at the name, but before I can speak, she does.
“He said Rusty doesn’t have the leverage… Do you think he could be lying?” She sounds both hopeful and worried.
“I wouldn’t put anything past Legion,” I say, picking up the card. She hands me the bag as well, but before I push away from the bar to go confront him about it, she places her hand on my arm to stop me.
“Dean, for whatever it’s worth, I believe him about what happened the night he shot Asmodeus.
He had no idea about his brother. In his own broken way, he did what he thought was best to keep us all alive.
I know he drugged me to spare me the experience of being abducted and having to see that monster again.
He did everything for reasons that made sense to him at the time… I’m sorry, but… I forgive him for it.”
“But you don’t believe him about this?” I ask, holding up the card between my fingers.
She lifts a dainty shoulder in a slight shrug. “Maybe Rusty doesn’t have it… But maybe Rusty knows who does ?”
“I’ll find out.” And if I can’t, Vanna will.
When I shove the door to his room open and enter, Legion is stepping out of the bathroom, in the process of securing a towel around his waist.
“You never struck me as one to share in your Sergeant at Arms’ rather odd fascination regarding the substantiality of my cock.” He glares at me. “ Or are you simply above knocking before entering?”
I’m already exhausted, and I haven’t been in his presence longer than thirty seconds yet. I chuck the bag with the cellphone on the foot of the bed and hold up the debit card before tossing it onto the bed as well.
“Ah, yes…” Legion grins. “I had a feeling the little pixie may have still been clinging to hope, despite having informed her that no… Rusty is not the executor of my contingency plan.” He pauses to tilt his head, his eyes narrowing as if insulted.
“You don’t actually believe I could possibly be this careless, do you? ”
“You did suffer a concussion. Where is our old pal, Rusty?”
“I can tell you where he isn’t. Bermuda County.
Not after you unceremoniously gave him the boot and a threat never to return.
” Legion moves to grab the boxers from the folded pile of clothes on the corner of the bed, and I spot something else about him that unnerves me.
A tattoo on his lower back… A demon with a tarot card clutched in its talons, depicting a knight in black armor upon a black horse. ..
I feel like I’ve just been slugged in the fucking gut… First, the Morning Star connection… Now this .
“Do you mind?” Legion growls, and I take the opportunity to turn away from him and gather my composure, playing it off as if I’m granting him privacy to dress. He pulls on the boxers beneath the towel before discarding it to maneuver himself into his jeans.
“Alright, I’m decent,” he grunts, a little out of breath from the pain in his ribs, I’m sure. “At least, decent enough.”