There is my heart, and then
there is you, and I’m not sure
there is a difference.
-A.R. Asher
“What is it?” Viking growls as we pull off at a gas station out of turn. We’d already filled up and were set for another two hours at least before breaking.
“Fuck, I don’t know, but my phone has been going off nonstop, continuous for the past hour.”
“Just Bluetooth that shit, we’re wasting too much time.”
“I would, but I can’t hear good with that thing in my ear. Besides, who the fuck you know would be callin’ me like that? Someone who’s lost their motherfuckin’ mind,” I grit in return, and pull my device out to see what the hell is going on.
It says Bethany: 240 missed calls.
“What the ever loving fuck?” Holding it up to Vike, his gaze widens, and he gestures for me to call. I was going too anyhow.
“The fuck’s goin’ on, Bethany, Christ?” I damn near yell when she answers.
She’s sobbing, and I can’t understand a damn thing she’s saying. “Baby, calm your tits, the fuck happen?”
She’s crying something fierce, mumbling words that make no sense whatsoever. She’s hysterical to the point I would be thinking of sedating her if I were there, and it’s crushing me inside. “I cannot understand you at all. Is Princess there? Put her on so she can talk.”
“Nightmare?” Princess comes on the line; no doubt she’s been crying, too. I hear Viking swear in the background, once he powers his cell on and discovers his missed calls too. Her voice has me on edge; this is the Ice Queen I’m talking to. She doesn’t show weakness like this, especially to me or to anyone besides her ol’ man.
“Yeah, the fuck’s goin’ on over there?”
“Y-you guys need to come back, right now.”
“Why? Talk to me, damn it!” I shout, and all the guys stare at me, with ‘what the fuck’ expressions.
“They have him. They took Maverick. You guys left and so many showed up. They killed Bronx; ripped a knife up his stomach and pulled his guts out in the middle of the parking lot. Scot…he’s gone. Th-they cut his fucking throat! Blaze is barely breathing; I have the doc coming right now.” She lets out a shuddering breath, her voice choking up as she fights to get words out. “But Mav, h-h-h-he-he’s gone, Nightmare. We fought them; I swear to God, we fought. But there were just too many. They threw us to the side like flies. Puppet, their leader said they were leaving me and Bethany alive to warn you. They s-said the Fists always collect their debts owed.”
I growl into the line, my mind beginning to spiral out of control with the many ways I’ll kill them all, and she continues.
“We took a son from them, so they’re taking a son from us. Oh God, Night, I don’t know what to do. Bethany is losing it; she’s going to kill herself at this rate. You guys have to get here now. There’s blood everywhere, and her son’s gone. I-I don’t know what to do.”
“Keep her safe. Call 2 Piece and tell him to get over there now.”
“I’ve been calling everyone; I think the Fists are hitting them too. It didn’t seem like they were finished when they left.”
“Call your father. Tie B up if you have to; I don’t give a fuck. Just watch her. We will be there as quickly as possible,” I order calmly, even though I feel nothing of the sort. Every nerve in my skin is jumping, and I’m so angry I could peel someone’s skin off their body with my bare hands and feed it into a fire piece by bloody piece at this moment.
I hang up, stuffing the phone in my pocket. Everyone stares at me in anticipation. I’m so fucked up inside, yet I have to tell them what has happened. I have to find the strength.
Climbing off my bike, I stumble a few steps away and then puke. I wretch up every last thing in my stomach, eventually dry heaving, with the strong taste of stomach acid left behind in my throat. It takes an empty stomach before I’m able to pull it together enough to speak.
I turn to my brothers with tears in my eyes. Swallowing, I take in each of their faces and then relay everything Princess just told me on the phone.
Viking is on his bike and out of the parking lot before I even finish. We all follow quickly, and it’s amazing I can even concentrate enough to ride. All I know is that my son is gone, my girl is an absolute wreck, and I have to get the fuck back home.
I have to fix this; I will fix this, if not for me and my club, for Bethany.
The ride home is the longest I’ve ever been on. I shook the entire way, not just my hands, but the inside of my stomach quaked with worry and anger. I have no idea what to even do. Should I just hold Bethany while she cries, or should I immediately hunt down the bastards that have my son?
I decide on both. As soon as I see her, I wrap my arms around her battered body and just breathe as she sobs into my chest. Tears fall down my cheeks hearing her so beyond broken. How do you get through something like this? What on earth do you say to someone who just had her child literally ripped from her hands, in a place where she should’ve been safe?
They came into our home, killed members, and stole our son. There’s nothing I can say to bring her peace in this moment. I’m barely standing upright on my own two feet.
I can’t remember the last time I shed even a tear for anything at all, but my cheeks are wet as her body shakes against mine. I have to be strong for her, for him, but I feel anything but. My physical being feels weak and beat down all over, I’m not even the one who took any of the physical blows either.
Two brothers are dead and gone forever. If anyone could’ve been somewhat of a father figure to me, it would’ve been Scot. The man never passed any judgment and welcomed me immediately when he recognized I was young and lost. He led us for a time with the Nomads, and I’m honored to have had the chance to ride with him for so many years.
Bronx was just a fuckin’ kid. I’d only known him since he patched over from the Widow Makers. He’d barely cleared his Prospect patch and been patched a full member with us. He was a punk the first time I’d come across him, and I’d gotten the pleasure to watch him evolve into a young man. He’d grown into someone honest and loyal over the past few years, someone worthy of wearing the Oath Keeper patch.
I can’t help but have the festering rage building inside me toward Twist. I know I shouldn’t blame a brother for what has happened, but his woman brought the Iron Fists to their front door initially. They’d had run ins and issues with the club trying to claim our territory, but it was her that brought the brunt. It’s because of them that my son isn’t here with his family right now.
We never should’ve ridden off and torched that clubhouse for them in Cali. The Nomads should’ve told them to take care of their own shit. But we were the hard ones, the true death dealers of the club. When shit hit the fan, they called us, and we were there to answer. Now it’s us who needs the help, my woman and me. Every motherfucker better step up to help out, too.
Saying a silent prayer to a God I’d long stopped believing in, I can only hope I was wrong. Hope that He’s up there, listening to my heartfelt plea for assistance and helps me find my son and some peace in this life. Why is it we have to hit a new level of low to seek comfort and redemption from up above? It took a three year old to bring me to my knees and want to change my ways. I want to become a better man in life not for me, but for him and for Bethany.
She shutters and I keep holding her, trying to give her some ounce of warmth to keep her with me. Bethany’s so fucked up, I’m afraid she’s mentally checked the fuck out. She weeps and stares into space. She won’t speak to me. She mumbles his name and sobs some more. She’s broken, and I can’t fix her, but I’m hoping to get our son back because I know he can fix her.
“I have you baby. I will do everything to make this better, I promise you with everything I am. I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I will get our son back if it’s the last thing I ever do,” I murmur in her hair, my voice laced with heartbreak, rocking her in my grip.
She doesn’t answer, just cries more and I feel like each tear that falls from her eyes rips more of my soul from my chest. I’ll be completely black inside by the time this is over. My heart will match the bruises on her face.
“I have Spider searching any cameras in the area. We’ll find them,” Viking declares, but part of me doesn’t want to hear him. A piece of me is locking up and pulling away from everyone. If I don’t get Maverick back, I know I will never be able to forgive my brothers or this club. Whether it’s their fault this has happened or not, I will hold them responsible for my pain.
One thing is for certain: I will never stop looking for him.
“I’m so sorry, Daydream,” I repeat, not able to convey my true feelings. I wish I knew how, but I don’t. All I know is the person I love is hurt, sad, and broken, and the other person I love is missing.
The doc finds us after fixing up Princess to check over B. Once she completes her exam, she asks if I want a sedative. I don’t take one, but have her inject Bethany with a mild tranquilizer.
She’s too fucked up right now. She may hurt herself, and I can’t let that happen. I’m here and I have to protect her, even if that’s from herself.
She’ll probably end up hating me for all of this, and I can’t blame her for that. One thing I’ve come to discover, though, is that I love her a great deal more than I’d begun to realize these past weeks. She’s it for me—the one—my everything, and that includes Maverick. So she can hate me. I’ll take it, own it, and wear that badge every day of my life. But, I’m going to do whatever I have to, to make her love me like I do her, with every single beat of my cold, once-dead heart.