15. April
15
April
I walked into the house and left the two Prospects outside. I hated having babysitters, but I understood what the club was trying to do. The only person to ever pose a danger to me was dead, killed by the man I now loved. I felt like the world was working in my favor, finally.
Police tape covered the entrance to Paul’s office. We were still married, so the house and everything he had were coming to me. Did I deserve all the money and all the stuff? Did I deserve the years of abuse?
I walked upstairs and grabbed a suitcase from the closet. I laid it on the bed and stopped in front of the mirror on the bedroom vanity. I sat in the chair and began brushing my hair, watching the woman in the mirror, who was no longer afraid of the man who used to walk up behind her and do as he pleased without ever pleasing her. I wished I could feel something other than relief from his death .
Did I now have the happiness I’d been wanting? I put the brush away and started packing jeans, tees, panties and bras, and sexy lingerie Paul never knew I had.
Of course, there would be lots of questions about Paul’s death. Me riding around on the back of Ethan’s bike didn’t help matters. I didn’t care. That was the life I wanted, and I deserved the things I wanted.
I put a bag of toiletries in the suitcase and found a perfume I thought Ethan would adore. I took nothing else. When the time came, I’d sell the house, the cars, and Paul’s stocks. Especially the stocks, since they always came before me.
Before I left the room, I sat on the bed and looked around. Something was wrong. The house seemed different. I stood and checked the bathroom. Piss floated in the toilet. Paul, OCD, never forgot to flush. And the seat was down.
I returned to the bedroom and heard a faint noise in the downstairs kitchen. The Prospects? Ethan had changed his mind and decided to check on me? The thought gave me a smile. Maybe he’d fuck me hard on a bed that never saw a hard fuck.
I went down the steps, avoiding the one step that creaked, and looked around the corner when I reached the bottom—nothing in the kitchen. I then turned the corner and saw two figures sitting on the couch in the living room.
“Hello? Ashtray?”
“Not a chance.”
A light came on, and I froze. Rose sat on the couch, and the man next to her had a gun pointed at her head. Skittles was right. The MC is a gift that keeps on giving. Last night’s gift had been amazing. This? I suspected this was what I could expect on a regular basis.
“Say a word. Scream. Fart. I’ll kill her.” He stood and waved me into the living room with his gun. “Your guys are off on a wild goose chase. Here’s what we’re gonna do, bitch. You’re going to sit right there next to sweet little Rose and keep your cunt mouth shut.” He had Rose’s phone in his hand. “Give me your phone, bitch.”
I handed the man my phone and glanced toward the front door—too far to run.
“That would be a mistake,” the man said. “You’d get you both killed.” He chuckled and nodded at Paul’s office. “Wouldn't be the first person you got killed in this house.” He grinned. “That’s right. I know what you and that muscle-bound asshole did.”
“What do you want?” I asked quietly. “I can help you.”
“You can’t help shit, lady.” He motioned for me to sit next to Rose, and I did.
“Tyson, let her go,” Rose said. “She didn’t do anything to you.”
“Right, Rose. I’m taking out your entire fucking family. You don’t walk out on me.” Tyson ran his fingers through his hair. He sniffed several times and grunted. Staying with Ethan meant always having men like Tyson around. The club attracted bad people the way candy attracted kids.
Tyson pulled a small baggy from his pocket and sat the gun on the table. Rose and I glanced at each other. The table was too far for us to reach the gun. Tyson dumped the white powder on the table. I’d never done Coke; my only experience with it was seeing people on TV make lines with a credit card. Tyson didn’t bother with a card. He snorted the messy pile and yelled like a madman. He punched the TV, and blood broke through his knuckles.
“You’re in my home,” I said. “Please leave.”
Tyson chuckled and grabbed the gun. He flipped the table over. Perfect. Paul loved the table. He pointed at me. “I’m going to text your old man and have him meet you here. Tell him there’s a fine piece of cunt waiting on him.” He typed the message and hit send. He smirked and pointed at me. “This was your husband’s home.”
A minute or so passed before Ethan replied. Tyson nodded at the phone and grinned. What an asshole. “He’ll be here in ten minutes. He’ll be dead in eleven minutes.”
“Don’t,” Rose said. “I’ll go back to Cali with you. Just you and me.”
“Bullshit. I know what you’re trying to do.” Tyson tapped Rose’s cheek a couple of times with his hand. “No worries, baby, I won’t shoot him.” He put the gun down and removed his shirt, bouncing around the room air-boxing. The gun was still too far away. “Him and me, baby. I’m going to be on his ass like a back pocket.” He was the only one to laugh at the stupid joke.
“Let April go,” Rose said.
I shook my head. “No way. I’m staying.”
“Stand by your man and all that bullshit!” Tyson picked up the gun and walked to the front door. “I’m gonna knock his ass down and then stomp that pretty-boy face of his.”
“You’re not,” Rose said gently. “Tyson, we can return to California and figure out where things went wrong. We can fix it. I know we can.”
I was sure the police had taken Paul’s gun, but had they checked the desk’s middle drawer on the right? I doubted it. That’s where Paul kept a second, smaller gun. That would mean getting away from Tyson, tearing through police tape, and getting the gun before Tyson shot me. The odds weren’t in my favor.
I looked down and wanted to fall apart. “It’s okay to fall apart a little bit,” I whispered to myself. I listened to others and their problems for almost twenty hours a week. Nobody ever listened to mine. I am a therapist. That meant I already had the skills to figure my shit out. Right .
“You should have stuck with your husband,” Tyson said. “See what happens to whores when they run away? Except I ain’t dying like that asshole did. I can’t believe you bit the poor asshole’s dick off.”
The rumble of an approaching bike took Tyson to the window. “Dumb ass came by himself. Just like I knew he would.” Tyson sat in the recliner across from us, the same chair Paul often fell asleep in. Sometimes, I’d sit on the couch and watch the man sleep, dreaming of the day I’d never have to look at him again. That day had come.
I looked to the left when Ethan entered the house. He gently closed the door behind him. He saw me. “April. Where is he?”
“In here, big boy. Slow and easy with the gun in your waistband.” Tyson stood, gun pointed at Ethan. “I’ll shoot them first, and then your big ass.”
Ethan lifted the hem of his cut and turned in a circle. “I’m unarmed, dickhead. Put the gun down, and let’s get to it.”
“Tell your old lady to keep her seat. Your sister, too.” Tyson took a step away so he could see us all at once. “I’ll take much more pride in killing you with my hands.”
“April. Rose. Do as he says.”
“Ethan,” Rose said. “I don’t want this to happen. Take April and go.”
Tyson laughed. “That ain’t happening, little Rose. Now, shut the fuck up.”
I put my hand on Rose’s knee. “Let Ethan handle it,” I said. “He’s on the powder, Ethan.”
“One question.” Tyson motioned at Ethan with the gun. “How’d you know I was here?”
“You text the word cunt. April deplores that word. I knew she didn’t send that message.” Ethan put his riding gloves back on. “I’m glad you’re here, though. I didn’t bother bringing any help. I’m ready when you are.”
“Fucker’s going to fight in his cut,” Tyson said. “It’s all good. They can bury you in the fucking thing.”
“Don’t touch the gun, Rose,” Ethan said. He knew I wouldn’t. Or did he?
Tyson put the gun on the table, and Ethan entered the living room. Tyson quickly swung at Ethan, who ducked to the left and stood upright. Ethan chuckled.
“Trying to hit the one in the middle?” Ethan joked. “You gotta do better than that.”
Tyson took another swing and connected it to Ethan’s jaw. “Got ya, big boy.”
Ethan moved to the left, watching Tyson bounce around the room. He winked at me, and I returned a smile.
“You’re the one who had my parents killed,” Ethan said.
“I am. You’re next.”
Ethan followed Tyson, backing him up. Tyson’s hands were lowering, his face unsure. He glanced at the gun.
“Something wrong?” Ethan asked. “That white shit getting to you or wearing off?”
“Fuck you, Towles,” Tyson said. “I saw you kill that man.” He nodded at me. “Her husband.”
“Some men deserve to die,” Ethan said. “Men like you.” He faked a move toward Tyson, and Tyson froze. He glanced at the gun again.
Ethan rushed forward and brought a right hook against Tyson’s chin, knocking him into the wall. A picture of Paul and a business partner fell to the floor and broke.
Tyson, wobbly, climbed to his feet and held up his hands—a dead man walking. His eyes turned wild, and he looked toward the front door. Fear filled his eyes. I saw a black van pulling into the driveway through the front window. Two bikes rolled up behind it.
“You’re not going to die here,” Ethan said.
Tyson dove for the gun.
Ethan reacted faster, putting a size thirteen boot against the man’s face.
Tyson hit the floor with a loud thud, and his lungs emptied. “Motherfucker,” Tyson cried. “Rose. Help me, baby.”
“Take Rose outside, baby,” Ethan said.
Rose and I got up and walked to the front door. Beast, Diesel, and two Prospects entered the house.
“Going to need five bikes and five chains,” Ethan said.
Outside, Rose asked, “What’s going to happen?”
“I think they’ll take him out of the city and deal with him there.” I took Rose by the hand, and we loaded into my car, leaving Ethan to take care of club business.
“Tyson deserves whatever Ethan has planned,” Rose said. She started crying. “I didn’t mean for my parents to die.” She covered her face, and I reached over and put my hand on her shoulder.
“Rose, none of this is your fault, just like it’s not Ethan’s fault. He’s dealing with the problem the way it should be dealt with. When it’s over, you have to move on.” That was the kettle calling the pot black. Was I going to move on? No. I was staying. “You should move to Pine Bluff,” I said. “Ethan needs family close.”
Rose turned, wiping her tears. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“We can help you find a place to live,” I said. “You can start a new life here.”
Rose finally smiled. “I think I will.”