Counting down the days until I get my revenge.
I’m not a murderer, but the man has to pay
Pay for what he did to Rex
Pay for what he did to me.
Freedom lies in the death of Dominick Morretti.
--Mac, Age 20
Mac
Friday night and still no Hatch. He took off on MC business a week ago and never came back. He said it would be an overnight.
The other guys that come in and out of the compound have been whispering. Something about a job going wrong. Was Hatch involved? Is he dead?
My muscles twitch; every jump sends pain through my bones. Cross-legged on the bed, I rock back and forth. I grab the corners of the blanket and pull it tight around my shoulders. If he never comes back, what will happen to me? I’m tired, but can’t sleep without the nightmares. Worse than ever, they crash over me and I wake up in a pool of sweat.
Can’t. Stop. Shaking.
I need to move. Walk. Run. Sleep. Fuck, I don’t know what to do.
I’ve never gone this long without a hit. Nausea roils my belly, and I swallow back the vomit that threatens. The sweat-soaked sheets rub against my naked skin like razor blades. Everything hurts. How long can I go on like this? My teeth chatter with cold. I hear the raucous voices of some guys filter through the door. Maybe they’ll have something. Anything.
I have no money, but that hasn’t stopped me from getting what I need in other ways. My spine feels like knifed jackhammers are dancing up and down it. I’m in hell.
My eyelids drop closed. I imagine that I’m in Rex’s arms, that he’s kissing my head and telling me everything’s going to be okay. I pretend he loves me. My muscles relax a tiny bit, and I absorb the comfort of my imagined Rex.
A stream of moisture falls from the corner of my eye, followed by another. I pinch my eyes closed tighter, trying to block out the sadness.
“I miss you so much.” My dry lips form the words, but my voice sounds as dead as I feel.
All I wanted to do was love him. Even loving him from a distance is better than being without him at all. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve seen him. Drugs have fogged my sense of time and my will to care.
It’s pointless to continue to deny what’s happening to me.
What I’m doing to myself.
Ever since I left Rex’s condo, I’ve been on the slow path to suicide. Just because I don’t pull out a gun and end it doesn’t make it any less of what it is, the slow death of a weak woman.
Admitting it releases a long, relieving breath. Yeah, I’ve known it all along. Hooking up with Hatch, pretending it was because he cared, took care of me . . . what a joke. I knew on some level this lifestyle would end up killing me.
With a sudden clarity, my eyes pop open. This is it, the end of my pain, my longing for a person who hates me, my lifelong quest for redemption that ended in the ultimate persecution. A death sentence.
And I don’t want to go on another day without him.
I hurt from the core of my being, and my soul claws against my flesh. My stomach lurches, and I hang my head off the side of the bed. A dirty pair of Hatch’s jeans is bunched at the base of the rickety side table. I focus on the pocket where a small vial pokes out just above the seam.
I push with my toes and stretch my arm over to fish it out. I grip the cold glass in my fevered, quaking hand and curl into a ball around. A war rages in my body, part hunger and need destroying what’s left of my fight to survive. But the battle is short-lived as the chemical dependency roars its unwavering demand.
Grabbing the mirrored plate from the side table, I roll to my stomach and pour out a short line. It looks a little different, darker, but I’m too desperate to care. I lick my lips and bring the powder to my nose. It takes all the strength I have left to steady my hand.
The addiction takes over and I’m helpless. Like watching myself from across the room, I stare in horror as the drug is sucked into my body. My head arches back, a moan of ecstasy pours from my lips. Relief, instant and aggressive. This is different and so much better, not the usual high, but rather a soothing low that makes me drop my forehead to the bed.
More.
Another line, then one more. Peace blankets me in warmth. This is all I’ve ever wanted. Serenity.
I lose the ability to hold up my head. Thoughts fizzle away until it’s just me and the high. I lie down, wondering what I was so upset about before. Suddenly nothing matters except the tiny vial that I have clasped between my hands.
Making amends with my past, my eyes drift closed. I pull up his face.
He’s smiling down at me with acceptance, forgiveness. “It’s okay, Gia. I forgive you.”
My heart swells and slows, unable to take the full weight of his mercy.
“I love you, Rex.” Hot tears trail from my eyes to the bed. “I never stopped loving you.”
“You can let go now, baby.”
Breathing shallow . . . pulse slower . . . the world goes black.
Peace.
~*~
Rex
“Continue on Interstate 285 toward Leadville.” The computer-generated voice from the GPS is the only person talking in the rented SUV.
Jonah, Blake, and Caleb have been silent for most of the trip. The plane ride from Vegas to Denver seems as if it were ages ago as we trek through the Colorado mountains. Adrenaline drums through my veins, ratcheting up along with our altitude. Every motorcycle that passes ignites a fire in my gut. She better be okay. Fuck! She better be better than okay. If not, I don’t know what I’ll do.
“Rex, man, you’re going almost one hundred miles an hour.” Caleb’s voice comes from the backseat, reminding me that there are more lives at stake than the one I’m racing toward.
The second Raven found the old farmhouse in Colorado among Dominick’s list of properties, I was on the phone, booking my flight. Jonah insisted on coming and calling reinforcements. I didn’t want to take him away from his family to clean up the shit-mess I made, but he grinned, grabbed my phone and booked four tickets. We took the first flight out the next morning.
I let up on the gas and try to relax. No point walking in on a motorcycle gang’s compound half lit and ready to kill. “We get there, you guys wait in the car and I’ll—”
“No fuckin’ way. We go in together,” Blake says in his no-negotiating way.
Jonah’s in the passenger seat, texting. “Agreed.”
“If we go in together, they might see us as a threat. Let me go first, see if she’s even there, if we have the right place.”
“See us as a threat?” Blake shoves the back of my seat. “Motherfucker, we are a threat.”
“Agree with that too.” Jonah tosses his phone into the center console. “Dominick’s shit is wet. It trickles all over the damn place even after the dick face is buried in the dirt. My girl’s on a mission to erase the lasting effects of that ass. I take this as an opportunity to assist in that.” He turns toward me. “Translation? Threat.”
Can’t argue with that.
“Layla’s been crying over Mac for so long I’m happy to fuck anyone up if it means drying my woman’s tears,” Blake says. “Plus, Mac’s a good girl. She deserves better than this.”
She deserves better. Could I be the better she deserves? My hands grip the steering wheel and I lie heavy on the gas. I don’t know if I can be, but fuck I want to be.
“Threat it is.” It’s not as if I have anything to lose. If I don’t get Gia back, make up for the way I treated her, then I’ll be stuck, half-way to a cure, part sick, never healed.
“Don’t worry, bro. We’ll let you walk in first if that makes you feel better,” Caleb says with a smile in his voice.
Pine trees fly by in a blur as we leave the heavier populated mountain towns and enter the barren areas. According to the GPS, we’re less than ten miles from the farmhouse.
“Check it out, dude.” Jonah points to a sign in the distance.
It’s a pig’s face with devil horns that reads The Devil’s Hog. My stomach tightens. This has got to be it. We’re in the right place.
“I seriously love your wife, dude.” If it weren’t for her, I’d still be home feeling like shit and Gia would be on her own. Suffering.
“Take the next right at north Glengrove.” The GPS blares in the silence of the car.
I follow the directions until a rustic old ranch-style house comes into view. A row of motorcycles is parked out front. I grip the steering wheel and welcome the burn in my knuckles. Hatch may be on the run, but I’m looking forward to introducing a few of the bikers inside to my fist. “It’s go-time, boys.”
A series of fuck-yeahs and lets-do-this and we’re out of the car. The cold mountain temps do nothing to slow my feet from eating up the dirt drive until I’m at the door. I don’t see the guys, but I can feel their tension at my back.
I bring my fist to the door and pound out three knocks.
“You think they’re even up yet? It’s only eight a.m.,” Caleb says.
“Well let’s wake ’em up.” Blake pushes past me and kicks the door hard, once and then twice. “Wake up, biker bitches!” He steps back enough to slam the flat of his boot into the door.
It finally swings open. “What the fuck, asshole?” The long barrel of a shotgun is pointed at Blake’s forehead.
I shove him aside and stand in his place. “You’ve got something of ours. We’re here to pick her up.”
The biker narrows his sleep-puffed eyes. “You banging my shit down for a bitch?”
A growl erupts from my throat. “Call her that again and I’ll shove that shotgun up your ass.”
Jonah steps up, and the biker’s chin tilts up, eyes wide. A grin of satisfaction slides across my face in a snarl.
“You pigs?” He says, his gaze bouncing between us.
“Do I look like a fucking pig to you?” My muscles are coiled. I’m ready to bulldoze this guy, knowing that Gia’s back there somewhere. She has to be.
He studies my face from my lip ring to my eyebrow piercing. “So what? You’re after your ex old lady and you think she’s here?” He scratches his bearded cheek. “’Lotta chicks come and go; no guarantee the one you’re looking for is here. And if she is, no guarantee you’re gonna like what you see when you find her.”
“We’ll take our chances,” Blake says. “Step aside.”
“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let you guys in here.” He moves a few paces toward us, stepping outside. “Who’re you looking for? I’ll see if I can drag her out. One thing we don’t need is bitch complications.”
My arm jerks to sucker punch this fuck, but Caleb holds me back.
“Her name’s Mac. Black hair, light skin.” Jonah crosses his arms at his chest as if he’s struggling to keep his hands off this guy’s neck too. “She hangs with Hatch.”
“Hatch ain’t here. He’s got an old lady, but it’s not the same girl. His bitch has red hair.”
A wave of fury slams through my veins. I push past the biker and into the farmhouse. An arm wraps around my throat. I twist free and shove. Biker down. I ignore the sound of the short-lived scuffle that goes on behind me, confident that the guys can hold back one biker.
I storm through what looks like the main living space to a hallway. Bedrooms. On fire to find her, I start at the first door. It’s locked. I rock back, slamming my heel into the door. The cheap wood splinters and pops open.
A big guy jumps out of bed. “What the fuck?” I scan the room and find two chicks huddled at the headboard. No red hair. He barely gets his pants up and charges me.
“Easy, fuckwad.” Blake’s there. He shoves the guy hard, sending him to the floor. He turns toward me. “I got this. Go get your girl.”
I move to the next door. Locked again. I kick, the door flies open. The guy sleeping in there doesn’t budge. I stalk up to his bed. He’s alone.
Next door. I jiggle the handle. “Gia! You in there?” I rock back and throw my weight behind a heel-slam that sends the door swinging. This room is darker than the others. The windows are covered. I blink and try to focus.
On the bed, covered from the waist down in a thin sheet, lies a woman with ghostly pale skin and fiery red hair.
“Gia!” I race to her; she’s not moving. Fuck, she looks dead.
My hands move to touch her but stop just shy of her perfect skin. Dried-up vomit is crusted to her mouth and the pillow. “Shit, Gia!”
I run my hand up her arm and rest it against her cheek. Her skin is clammy, but warm. Alive, but just barely. There’s nothing left. Her bones protrude from her joints, her cheeks sunken.
A small glass vial lies near her open hand. I snag it. Empty. She’s OD’ing.
“Call 911!”
God, please. Don’t let me be too late.
My throat swells with all I need to say, all I have to apologize for. “Baby, wake up.”
I scoop my hand beneath her neck and shoulders, pulling her into my lap. Her frail body, naked and vulnerable, lies limp in my arms. I hold her to my chest, burying my nose into her hair. The hint of tropical fruit and coconut fills my nose. “I did this. I’m so sorry, Gia.”
I rock her back and forth, whispering, praying, and pleading. “Don’t leave me. Please, baby, I can’t live without you.” Tears burn the backs of my eyes. “Don’t make me live another day without you.”
Caleb races into the room. “Dude, we gotta—whoa!” He turns his back and holds up a hand. “Sorry, bro. I didn’t know she’d be—”
“I’m not leaving.” I clear my throat. “She needs an ambulance.”
Jonah steps in to the room, his eyes darting back to the hallway. “Can’t stay here. We’ve woken the beast.”
He walks toward me, and I hug her to my body close. Like a feral animal, I’ll kill anyone who tries to take her from me.
“It’s all right, man. I won’t touch her.” He pulls up the sheet to cover her naked body. “We gotta bolt. Now.”
I do my best to secure the sheet around her and pick her up. She’s light. Too light. Guilt squeezes my chest.
I follow Jonah and Caleb away from the bedrooms and toward the sound of a fight. Blake’s in a face-to-face with a group of half-dressed, newly-woken bikers. They’re blocking the door. I’ve gotten her this far; it’ll take a damn army to keep me from leaving without her.
“We’ll take these guys.” Jonah motions toward the front door. “When you see your out, take it. Do not hesitate. We’ll meet you at the truck.”
I nod and kiss Gia’s head, hoping she knows she’s safe. I hate that she’s been living with these guys—the smell of liquor, BO, and cigarettes in every room—knowing I drove her to this.
I inch my way toward the door, and Jonah and the guys do their best to herd the half-dozen angry bikers to the other side of the room. I watch and wait, aware that the clock is ticking.
How long has she been like this? Even with medical attention, will she ever come out of it?
I nuzzle my nose into her hair. “Gia, if you can hear me, I’m never letting you go. Fight for me, baby. You hang on and you fight.”
A moan rumbles in her chest, so faint I feel it more than hear it.
“There it is, Gia. That’s right. Keep fighting, never stop swinging.”
The room detonates in a flurry of fists and grunts. A handful of bikers go fist to face with Blake, Jonah, and Caleb.
The door—a few long strides and I’m there. I look back. Two bikers hit the ground, and Jonah hits one more who drops hard.
They don’t need me. We’re out the door and to the SUV. I open the back and climb in with Gia.
In the light of day she’s worse off than I thought. Her lips are cracked and blue, the soft skin around her eyes now dark.
“Come on, come on, come on.” They need to speed this shit up. “Any minute now, hang in there, baby.”
The front door flies open, and the guys slow-jog to the car. We did it. We got her.
And now the hard part begins.