Chapter 5 Raff
Five
Raff
Outlaw State of Mind – Chris Stapleton
Time is a thief that never stops. My sister always said that watching her son as he grew up reaching each milestone. While I can understand her sentiment being a mom, time didn’t bother me until now. Being away this long gnaws at me in a way I’ve never experienced before.
Two fucking weeks on the road, I’m beat as I finally roll into my driveway.
My body is tense while my mind is locked down the rabbit hole of my past. Having her as my neighbor has brought all of this stuff up inside me.
I can see the broken inside her. I know first-hand the damage of trauma to a soul.
Yet, this fire in her eyes shows her determination to survive.
This is one time I wish I didn’t read people easily and well.
My own trauma requires me to watch the small things and learn how to see what will come from someone.
Reaction after an action meant injury. Preemptive measures are necessary to survive some of the evil people in this world.
Because of what I have seen, what I have done, I see her and the situation she has found herself in.
Clear as day it’s in her demeanor. She is a woman who has endured living in Hell at the hands of a man.
My chest gets painfully tight simply thinking about the past and Josie’s current situation.
The problem is I know all too well the dangers of a woman leaving an abuser.
Having that knowledge has made this entire club run different for me.
Instead of staying focused on the job I was doing, the times, and the transport, I have constantly checked cameras and wondered if she’s okay.
I shouldn’t care. She’s not close to me.
But there is this beauty and strength to her that calls to me. I can’t deny the attraction.
I didn’t expect to be gone this long. A few days, one-week tops was the plan.
I took a club run, not unusual, but then Rex asked me to come to Catawba for a bit.
A week on the road, a week in Catawba, North Carolina, and frankly, all I want to do is climb in my own bed and sleep for a week.
When I’m asleep the things from before can’t seep into my day to day.
An idle mind is never good for me. A week to sleep off the haunting memories might help me shake the damn skeletons lying in wait in my closet, always threatening to rattle.
That isn’t going to happen, but what the fuck ever.
I will forever live with what I’ve done.
The why behind it doesn’t matter, I still did it.
And what may be worse is even now, knowing it’s fucked up and will destroy my mind, I would still do it once again.
Over and over the reaction never changes.
Kill or be killed, right? Except it wasn’t my life on the line.
In the end, I couldn’t save her, and I couldn’t save myself either.
Twenty years later and I still can’t shake the haunting of my soul.
I don’t bother to open my garage. I’ll leave Pearl, my Harley-Davidson Road Glide in a black pearl paint featuring the Hellions skull on the gas tank, in the driveway tonight.
The custom paint job literally has Riffraff painted on each of the hard saddle bags along with a joker skull under it.
The pearl shimmer to the paint job gives it this shine depending on which angle it sits.
Someone steals this shit, they have a death wish.
Ruby is my first bike, where Pearl is my dream bike.
Each of them is a different part of me from stripped down to filled out, they are both like an addition of my damn soul.
The neighborhood is quiet like usual and it damn sure feels good to be home. Looking to my watch, I have about a half hour to shower and throw a frozen pizza in the oven for dinner.
My gaze goes to Justice running around yelling, “you can’t catch me” to Josie while she chases behind him.
She’s in shorts and a tank top with her ass and tits bouncing.
This is a view I can’t complain about, but no need to be getting a chub over the neighbor.
She’s beautiful but carries herself in a way that screams she doesn’t see it.
Before I can get off my bike, I notice Josie freeze. She looks to her smart watch before looking around like she’s seen a ghost. She studies the area before rushing to Justice and hurrying him into their house. This puts me on full alert. What has her rattled?
In a matter of seconds from her scurrying inside, I notice a car pull from behind the house on the far side of the cul-de-sac. The one on the other side of my house. From where the little white Ford Fiesta was parked, a person could see directly into her backyard.
This won’t happen again. I’ll make sure of it.
Mentally, I take note of the license plate as they pull away as if they belonged.
The thing is, I know who should be in that house and that car has no business there.
My mind immediately commits all of this to memory, date, time, description, all of it. Getting my shit, I head inside my house. I’m not tired anymore. Dinner is a long gone thought. No, I’m fired up to look into this car and what has Josie rushing inside on a gorgeous Carolina evening.
After grabbing a beer, I can’t get the car off my mind. I planned to shower, but it can wait. Josie’s face, she was pale in fear, it’s stuck in my head. I know the fear of a woman. I also know if I rush over there, she will be more panicked to know someone else saw her problem.
Grabbing my laptop, I go to the garage, open the big door, and turn on my streaming radio.
Once my country-rock playlist starts playing through the speakers, I begin to ease from the tension building inside me.
I can see her house and anything that may go on the entire street.
Until I have answers I will be on alert.
With the computer set up on my work bench, I use my roll up stool to settle in.
First search, Josie Jubilee Schneider. Start with the things I already know on my own.
Sure, part of me wondered if I needed to look into her before she moved in.
However, I prefer to give some people the benefit of the doubt.
Not many get this pass from me. But there is this innocence to her that tells me she didn’t move here to bring problems my way.
The internet is full of information, but the dark web gives even more. Things that shouldn’t ever be out there.
Married twice. Maiden name Dunne. First marriage she was eighteen.
Interesting.
First husband, Jonah Matthew Schneider. Killed in action.
Well, that explains how she got from Arkansas to North Carolina.
I keep reading. She has a small family. A sister in California, a cousin, and a grandfather seems to be her only family interaction scanning her social media accounts.
She has the right settings to block strangers from seeing her profiles and location.
I’m impressed.
Yes, I have the software to see more than the average person. She can’t hide anything from me, not that she knows she has made my radar. I bounce between state and federal databases along with her social media accounts.
It’s important to know my neighbor, that’s my justification for this. Granted, I have certainly fallen down a rabbit hole of personal information. This is more than a credit score and background screening, and I can’t stop myself from continuing to read on.
They were in homecoming court together. How cute. Good for her and him.
Popping the top off my beer, I take a long pull reading through everything. She does have parents but the communication with them seems to be hit and miss. They don’t have any social media and aren’t included in any pictures from family members.
Looking at the dates, Justice never met Jonah.
Two years after losing her husband, insert new man into two pictures, by year three of being a widow, she is at the courthouse marrying the new man.
Brett Rothrock.
Medically retired from the Army.
He served with her first husband’s unit.
Interesting, she didn’t take his last name.
Married one year before the first incident report.
The burn builds in the pit of my stomach as I read. I know these reports all too well. Instantly, I want to squeeze the life from this man’s body.
I look to my garage ceiling as if some miracle would come down to calm me.
When I drop my head, I read more. Twelve reports in total before it seems Josie took Justice on her own version of the run. While she hasn’t tried to completely disappear, she did leave Brett and move around.
Dammit.
Women are the most vulnerable during the initial separation. Until a court order is in place dividing all assets and defining contact, she is at a greater risk for him to push the limits.
I don’t like this. Not at all.
A noise in the quiet of the night gets my attention. From where I sit at the edge of my garage, I can see movement outside of her house while she can’t see me.
She’s moving to check her car is locked.
She studies the windshield, satisfied there isn’t something there, she moves to check the side door and then around back in what I assume is to check that door.
What sticks out to me, more than anything, is when she begins to check the windows.
I applaud the attention to detail, but I worry about what has made her this diligent in securing her home.
One by one, she goes by each window pushing up on them making sure they don’t move.
Whatever happened this afternoon, rattled her. I don’t like this at all. No woman should live like this ever.
Searching her cell phone number, I find out her provider and hack into their system. From there, I find the records from this afternoon.
A text:
looking good as always, Puppet. Our boy sure is getting big. Pink looks good on you. Should wear a hat since you didn’t put on sunscreen. Guess you couldn’t find it, huh? Don’t worry, Puppet, I have it.