Chapter Eight
Dax
“Hey!” I woke up to my dad’s gravelly voice and his palm banging against my bedroom door.
I started to get up but I moved too quickly and pulled on the muscles in my stomach that still hurt. Shit!
“Yeah Dad, come in!” I asked. The door was pushed open and my dad stepped in.
“Hey, get up and come on down to the club. Everyone will be there by noon.”
I wasn’t quite awake yet so I thought I had misunderstood. A week had passed since we’d had our family talk, and none of us had mentioned it again.
“You called the meeting?”
“Yes, I said I would, didn’t I? Don’t go down there looking for a fight though. Say what you need to say and leave, you got that? If you get hurt again your mother is going to cut off my left nut.”
“Ew, jeez, Dad. Why wouldn’t you just say, kick my ass or something?”
“Not my words, son. I’m just repeating what she told me. It’s almost ten already, get your lazy ass up.” He closed the door behind him and I lay back down against the pillow. Not ten seconds later there was another knock, my mother’s knock this time.
“Yeah, come in,” I told her.
“Oh, your father said you were up. I wanted to change your dressings before you went out to the bar.”
“Thanks Mom, but I haven’t showered yet.”
“Okay, I have to go but I’ll leave them in the kitchen on the island counter. They will be ready to go and you’ll just need to stick it on.”
“Okay, thanks Mom. Where are you off to?”
“I just have some things to do,” she said. “You say what you need to say today, but make sure you stay safe, okay?”
“I will, Mom.”
She kissed my cheek and said, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I told her.
Once she was gone, I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. After the shower, I dried off and put on my shorts and went out to get my dressings. I was surprised to see my dad still sitting at the kitchen table. He was going through some kind of record book.
“It’s alive,” he said, without looking up from his work.
I couldn’t think of a snappy comeback, so I just let it slide. I picked up the first dressing and put it over the wound on my stomach. The stitches were dissolvable, but they still hadn’t dissolved. They were starting to itch like hell though, so I hoped they’d hurry. The other wound was in my back where the bullet came out. Finding and covering that one was going to be trickier. I turned to go back to the bedroom where I could use the mirror and my dad was looking at me.
“You need some help?” he asked.
I looked at the bandage in my hand and said, “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”
He took it from me and said, “Turn around.” I did, and I felt him put it on and even smooth out the corners. Who knew?
“Thanks.”
“Yep,” he said. “I’m taking off soon. It would probably be wise if you showed up right before you talk. I don’t want any of them to know what this is about until it happens or they’ll run.”
“Okay, I’ll get there right at noon,” I told him.
He went back to his work, and I went back to my room to finish getting dressed. I was nervous about the meeting, but I was also excited. I really hoped that something would come out of it besides me playing my only hand in front of the entire club.
I hadn’t really gotten the okay from my doctor to ride the bike yet, but I thought I was ready. I didn’t get the go ahead yet for sex, but for that, I knew I was ready. I just had to convince Olivia I was.
The ride to the bar felt both good and bad. It felt great to be back on the back of the bike. I felt free for the first time in over a week. It was bad every time I hit a bump or leaned too far into a turn. It hurt like a son of a bitch.
When I drove up and saw all the bikes, I felt my hands shaking a bit. I’d like to say I went in feeling invincible and with no doubt in myself at all, but that would be a big, fat lie. I had just been shot a week ago. I was naturally anxious about how many of them were going to want to shoot me after I said what I had to say.
When I walked into the bar it felt like all eyes were on me and a hush fell over the crowd. I knew my dad hadn’t told them what I was there to say, so it was either my imagination, or they were just curious about my gunshot. My eyes fell on the terrible trio then. Brock, Terrance and Blake sat together at a booth on the far side of the bar. They were all shooting daggers at me out of their eyes.
When my dad saw me he stood up at the bar and said, “Alright, settle down.” He banged his gavel on the wooden bar. My dad loved his gavel; sometimes I thought he should have stepped over the other side of the line and become a judge instead of a criminal. “I want you to all listen up. My son has something that he needs to say.”
There were mutterings through the crowd as I took my place next to my dad. I expected him to go sit down, but instead, he stayed by my side. I was sure he did that because he knew they wouldn’t dare shoot me while he was standing in the vicinity for fear of shooting him instead. I was grateful and touched.
“Thank you all for coming,” I said. “I know this is a bit unorthodox as far as meetings go, but there’s something that’s been going on far too long and it needs to be addressed. Almost three years ago, I was arrested because there were drugs in my saddle bags. I didn’t put them there, I didn’t agree with anyone else putting them there and I didn’t even know they were there. I’ve been saying that all this time, and people either don’t believe me or they don’t care. Either way, I can’t take this any longer. I need my life back and the only way that’s going to happen is if I can prove I was set up. I’ve been working on it since I got out of prison and I’ve actually gotten a lot of good leads. There are three men in this room now. Two of them have admitted to me that they were involved in setting me up. The third has been implicated by the first two, but he has yet to have the balls to admit to anything. I’ve been around this club my whole life. I know how things work and I know that if he did this, there are more than two men who know about it. I’m asking…no, I’m begging for your help. Please, if any of you have any information you’d like to share, please come forward now.”
It was dead silent for a full five minutes before I heard my brother yell out, “Looks like you’re out of luck little brother. I hope your mommy is out there waiting for you still. You’ll need her to walk you back across the street.”
The place exploded in laughter. I glanced over at my dad, and he wasn’t laughing. He sauntered back up front and after rapping his gavel a few times, he said, “Any of you bone heads got anything else funny to say?”
They instantly became silent. Once again, I wondered about my dad’s history. How did a man half my size command that kind of respect and compliance from such a motley group?
“Alright, I guess we’re done then,” he said.
“No, wait!” I didn’t know I was going to say that until I heard the words come out of my mouth. My dad was giving me a warning look, but I was really past the point of caring. The three men I was accusing knew it. I figured the rest of them had a right to know too.
“Blake, your illustrious Vice President gave the order to set me up, Brock, my brother sent that order to Terrance, my best friend. Terrance carried the order out and put the drugs on my bike. Blake is your V.P. and Brock is acting as a President for many of you that ride with him,” I said, waving my hand at the nomad group. “Just sit and wonder next time they’re pissed off at you for something…in this case, something you had no control over. They got away with setting me up, what’s to stop them from doing the same to you?”
“Fuck you!” shouted Terrance, my former best friend.
The chatter started as a low rumble and then it grew almost deafeningly loud. Some people looked shocked by what I said, and some looked scared. After several seconds, my dad banged the gavel again. It took a lot for him to get them under control this time. When they were, he said again, “Anybody got anything to say?” After waiting in silence for over two minutes he said, “Alright then, go home…or wherever.”
He started to walk past me and I grabbed his arm.
“Wait, Dad. Is that it?”
“What else can we do?” he asked. “This was a bad idea from the start.”
“Fuck!”
My dad was only inches away from me and although I was yelling out in frustration, he thought I was yelling out at him.
“Watch yourself boy,” he said.
“I’m just so fucking pissed! I’m so fucking tired!”
“Then go home,” he said, and continued past me. I looked out on the crowd and Blake was still staring me down. I wanted to go over and have it out with him once and for all. I knew he wouldn’t be averse to a sucker punch or two though and I wasn’t in good enough physical shape yet after my surgery to handle it.
I followed my dad’s instruction and I went home, pissed, as usual.