Chapter 4
THE TRUTH
J.D. Stevens
“Prez!” Someone’s hand gripped my shoulder, shaking me. “Prez!”
Caesar?
As I forced myself awake from yet another hellish nightmare, I let out a groan. Slowly, I lifted my head from the hard, cold surface of the clubhouse desk. I hadn’t had a peaceful night’s sleep in two damn years. I must’ve dozed off while attempting to complete the paperwork that had accumulated on my desk. A result of dealing with Janet’s abduction and the disposal of Samuel Allen’s remains. I hadn’t got a lot of sleep in the past few weeks. Who the fuck am I kidding? I hadn’t got any sleep in two damn years.
I ran my hand through my hair, then pulled it at the roots, trying to erase the fogginess.
“What’s up Caesar?”
As I leaned back in my chair, I studied my VP’s face, detecting a flicker of concern in his eyes. Despite his valid concern, I chose not to dwell on it, as my sanity hung by a thread. I couldn’t dwell on my problems because if I did, I’d break.
“Rachel’s been calling. Said she couldn’t get you on the cell.” He lifted his cell in the air. “So, she called me.”
I grabbed my phone off the top of the stack of folders filled with unfinished work. I saw all the missed calls from Siobhan’s babysitter and from her preschool.
“Goddamn it!”
I pushed the call button, wiping my hand down my face.
“Rachel,” I called out after she answered on the third ring. “I’m so sorry I missed your call. Is everything alright? Where’s Siobhan?”
“She was running a fever. The school nurse couldn’t get in touch with you, so she called me since you had me listed as one of the emergency contacts. We’re at home now.”
“How’s she doing?” I asked as I stood and started packing up my shit so I could get home to my little girl.
“She’s fine, Mr. Stevens.” Rachel tried to reassure me. “I gave her some fever reducer and now she’s asleep. She was stuffy, running a low-grade fever, and had a scratchy throat. But don’t worry, it’s probably just a cold.”
I released a long breath, feeling the tension leave my body. I hated when Siobhan got sick, but a minor cold I could handle. My panic subsided a little.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes, Rachel.”
“Oh, there’s no need. I have a night class tonight. I can stay until you get home.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, even though I had shit to do here. Nothing came before Siobhan’s wellbeing. “I hate to put you out more than I already have.”
“It’s no problem. Like I said she’s asleep and I’ll catch up on some of my schoolwork while I’m here. Everything’s fine.”
“Thanks, Rach.” I sat back down in my office chair, leaned back, and pinched the bridge of my nose. “You’re a life saver. I’ll see you around six.”
I usually stayed at the clubhouse past six. But my little girl was sick, and I didn’t want to inconvenience Rachel any further. It was only fair I came home at a decent time. Club business could wait until tomorrow.
“Six it is!” she said in her usual chipper voice.
I ended the call. “I’ll never understand how someone could be so damn happy all the time. I need to give her a fucking raise.”
Rachel Underwood was an angel walking the Earth. She was the daughter of one of the brothers who was getting her nursing degree. Whenever I needed help and she could spare her time, she’d babysit Siobhan. Unfortunately, lately it had been happening more frequently than I liked.
Siobhan rarely came to the clubhouse. A lot of shit went down here no child should see, but if things continued the way they’ve been going, something would have to give.
“Everything good?” Caesar asked, worry in his eyes. “Is my goddaughter alright?”
“Yeah, your goddaughter is fine. Siobhan was running a fever. Rachel picked her up from preschool, took her home, and gave her some medicine. She’s sleeping, now.”
“Something you should be doing.” Caesar narrowed his eyes at me. “Take a break for a while and get some fucking sleep. I can manage shit here.”
He could handle shit, and I needed to sleep. But what could I do? The nightmares hadn’t stopped. As time passed, I’d been able to function during the day, pushing that day to the back of my mind. But nights... nights were a different beast. They were brutal. Whenever I did sleep, that day played on a loop inside my nightmares. And I couldn’t escape it, no matter how much I wanted to.
She’s not at rest, so you shouldn’t be either.
“Did you need something?” I asked, trying not to let my irritation leak into my voice. “Or did you only come in here to bust my balls about me not getting enough sleep?”
I needed fucking to rest. It wasn’t a secret. Not just sleep, but I needed relief from the nightmares. The constant replay of her and my son’s small body lying in the morgue with no life moving through them haunted me. And if not that nightmare, it was one where she called out for my help while my son wailed in the background. But I couldn’t get to them in time. Every time I reached them, they’d just fade away like they never existed. When I woke up in a cold sweat, and tears in my eyes, I relived that day all over again. Racing to the hospital, then getting the news she had died from her injuries, and they did all they could do to save Luca after a c-section, but he didn’t survive either.
I twisted my wedding band on my finger, trying to calm down. It always brought me peace. Touching the metal, she had slipped on my finger on our wedding day, always made me feel closer to them. It brought me some semblance of stillness I rarely felt anymore.
“Maybe both,” he said, laughing.
“Well, get the hell on with it. I got a lot of shit to do other than sit here looking at your ugly mug.”
His face lost all traces of humor. “Jacob,” he said, calling me by first name.
My spine stiffened. Rarely was Caesar serious unless it had to do with club business. And he never called me by my name.
“What is it?” I asked, not really sure I wanted to hear the answer to my question.
These past few weeks had been hell on the club. We hadn’t completely adverted a shitstorm with that asshole Samuel Allen, the former Financial Advisor to Charlotte’s most influential and rich residents and the youngest son of Senator Gayle Allen, and his involvement in the skin trade. We needed a break from all the bullshit.
“Does it have to do with Allen?” I asked, praying that it didn’t. “I know the cops are still hung up on trying to pin some of this shit on Hannibal, but there’s no way they can do that. Not with the evidence we handed the G-men.”
He waved his hand. “No, that shit is locked up tight, despite what the cops want. His lawyer is fucking top notch, and she says she’s got it all under control. They’ll all be going away for a long time and Hannibal will be okay.”
“Good to hear. Then what is it?” I leaned back in my chair, steepling my hands. “What’s got you all serious?”
“I know you hit a dead end with trying to find out what happened to Dani. So, I had a friend help me look for any footage from that day.”
I knew the day he was referring to. The worst day of my life. Although my background was in IT, I scanned hours of footage. I’d done all I could do to find out what happened, but nothing ever panned out. The cops would only say it was a freak accident. Their explanation never sat right with me. The police always hated Demons United. In the beginning, I believed they ignored what happened as a middle finger to me. Then I thought I was losing my mind, but the circumstances of that day always drove me crazy.
Why was Dani there?
“And why am I finding out about this shit now, Caesar?”
“Because you’re not only my Prez, J.D., you’re my best goddamn friend.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m worried about you, man. We all are. You need closure. You need the truth.”
Closure was something I’d never have. Nobody could give me what I needed. Not even the truth would help me because I needed her and my kid back.
“So, you sneak behind my back?”
“Hell yeah,” he smirked, not ashamed about keeping me in the dark. “That’s what friends are for.”
“Who are you fucking Dionne Warwick. Asshole.” I couldn’t stop my grin because if nobody else was there for me, Caesar would always be. He knew and understood my struggle. “And what did your friend find? And can they be trusted?”
“Rebel Pierce would like to meet with you as soon as possible to discuss her findings.”
Anger and sadness filled his eyes. Caesar was not only my VP, but I considered him to be my brother just as he considered me his. He pulled me from the depths of depression to somewhat living again. Well, what I’d been doing these past few years was debatable, but I could say I tried for my daughter even if I only made a little progress. Progress was progress in my eyes, and she was all that mattered to me now.
“What did Rebel Pierce find, Caesar?” I asked again, waiting for him to confirm what I believed all along—it wasn’t an accident. My family had been targeted. Not sure why and not sure by who, but someone caused it to happen.
“It might not have been an accident was all she would say over the phone.”
Grief, heartache, and fury, along with emotions I couldn’t describe, and I hadn’t experienced since that day, unfurled inside me like a beast rising from the abyss.
I picked up the whiskey tumbler, feeling the weight of it in my hand, and let out a roar as I hurled it at the door. As the glass shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, the unmistakable scent of whiskey filled the air as it slowly trickled down the door. As I raked all the papers, books, and file folders from atop of my desk, the emotions I had buried began to surge and explode.
The yells and curses grew faint. Hands gripping me, I tried to shake off. Voices of concern from my brothers I pushed to the back of my mind. The blood pounding in my ears wiped all the sounds away. I wanted blood. I needed blood for what I’d lost.
Lost.
The thought hit me with the force of a speeding truck, squeezing my chest and weakening my knees, until I crumpled to the ground in a wave of sorrow.
Caesar wrapped his arms around me as I cried like a fucking baby for my daughter, for me, for Dani, and for our son.
“Dani,” I muttered, before darkness engulfed me.