My heart doesn’t settle until Angel is wrapped around me on the back of my bike. I almost lost her again today; her asshole of a father tried to take her and he almost succeeded. Fucking Slow deserves to die; he betrayed us, he betrayed the club. His dad is a Sinner, so Slow must know what this will mean for him. I don’t understand why he’d do this, but whatever his reasoning, he’s out and he’ll never be forgiven. Things would have been worse for him if he’d been a fully patched-in member, but even as a prospect he’s gonna be eating through a straw for a long ass time.
Once we reach the clubhouse, Angel and Grits head to our room and Anders, Blade, and I, silently make our way to Prez’s office.
Anders cell buzzes and he listens for a minute then shoves it back into his pocket. “Echo and Smoke lost him. They circled the town, but Jefferies has gone to ground. My guess is he’s either stupid enough to go home, or he’s running.”
Reaching the office, we settle into our seats but remain silent. We know what we’re here to discuss, but I don’t think I can be the one to start the conversation.
Blade breaks the silence. “You want to be there when it happens?”
I stare at him, my mouth dropping open in shock. Do I? Do I want to watch the man who would have been my father-in-law die? I feel myself nodding without even being aware that my head’s moving.
“Come on then, if Jefferies has any sense at all he’ll be heading out of town. I don’t want to waste time,” Blade says, his face a mask of indifference.
He stands, and I follow him out of the office and across the compound to our bikes. My head buzzes and even though I know a hundred and one thoughts must be fighting to be heard, everything remains surprisingly quiet. The lack of remorse is disconcerting; shouldn’t I be justifying our actions? Shouldn’t I be trying to talk myself out of this?
Anders’ hand rests on my shoulder. I know it’s him without looking. “You don’t have to go, son.”
Looking over my shoulder, I lock eyes with him. “Yes. I do.”
He nods. “I understand. I’d want to see too. To watch as the life drains from his eyes.”
In this moment, I wonder if he was the one who killed the man that hurt Grits, and then I see it, the confirmation he did and that he doesn’t regret it. I hadn’t realized that I’d needed his approval, until I see that he doesn’t judge me for wanting this to be over. If there was another way I’d take it, but this is the only way to make sure she’s safe.
Anders’ hand slides from my shoulder. I take the final step and climb onto my bike. Blade is stoic and silent. I don’t know for sure, but he seems to be fighting his own demons. His bike roars to life and I turn the key so mine follows suit. My eyes lock with Anders’ briefly before Blade pushes his bike forward and we fly out of the compound.
The hunt is on.
Side by side, we ride the few minutes journey to Angel’s parents’ home. It’s been less than two weeks since I was dropping her off here and wondering how I was going to get to see her again. Only a few days before that, I didn’t even know she existed. My gut twists at the thought that there was a time when I didn’t know Angel. Now I know I wouldn’t make it through even a single day without her. She’s everything, she’s my life. I love her.
The Jefferies’ car is missing, and the house is empty when we get there. Blade grabs his cell from his pocket and quickly makes a call.
“Puck. Yeah, they’re gone. Yeah, that’s what I figure. Okay, we’ll head out of town. If they’re not too far ahead we might catch them up. Keep an eye on their cards; if they buy anything we can find them that way. Okay, yeah, thanks.”
I watch Blade as he has a one-sided conversation and once he ends the call, he turns to me. “Puck’s looking into their cards, see if they’ve been buying anything to skip town. There’s only one main road out, so let’s head that way and maybe we’ll be lucky.”
I nod and we push forward heading to the highway. Ten minutes later the wind is in my face and the familiar sense of freedom pulses through me. Following Blade, we weave in and out of the cars that are leaving Archer’s Creek, headed for Houston and the other towns and cities that lie beyond the small town we live in.
About twenty miles out of town, I spot a familiar looking silver SUV. Signaling to Blade, we speed up, moving through the stream of traffic.. Edging closer we pause about five cars behind Jefferies obnoxious MayorAC registration plate.
The large, black SUV comes out of nowhere.
Swerving across the highway, the SUV darts into the stream of traffic directly ahead of Jefferies. The mayor’s car lurches across the road, narrowly avoiding the black SUV, only for a second black SUV to cross onto the wrong side of the road again, heading directly for Jefferies vehicle.
Time slows, and we watch the accident almost in slow motion. Jefferies tries to avoid the second vehicle. He skids to the left, then tries to correct the skid by turning to the right. His silver vehicle slides across the road, his tires hit the gravel at the roadside and the wheels lift. The SUV spins in the air, rolling over and hitting the scrub at the side of the road. Rotating again I hear the crunch of metal against gravel and wood as it travels down the slight incline, finally coming to a stop against a tree.
The black SUV’s never pause, driving away as if nothing happened. Red taillights fill the road ahead of us and Blade signals for us to pull over to the side. Jumping off my bike, I rush to Angel’s parents’ SUV. The vehicle landed on its wheels, but one look into the front seats has me spinning around and gulping in deep lungfuls of air.
Blood. So much blood. Jefferies and his wife are in the front seats, along with the remains of the tree that killed them both. Angel’s mom’s eyes are wide, her mouth still open, silently screaming in death. Jefferies’ head has fallen to the side, the angle unnatural. His eyes are open and full of surprise, like even in death he was shocked to have been beaten.
Blade wraps his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me away from the car and the bodies of Angel’s parents. “Must have been Carduccio,” he says.
“What?”
“Carduccio. Two black SUV’s, tinted windows and no plates. This was a message that ended as an execution,” Blade says, his eyes lifeless.
I nod, because he’s right. This was a warning that went wrong. Carduccio isn’t the type of man you don’t pay, and Jefferies found that out the hard way. The police and EMT’s arrive quickly. They take statements and tape off the scene so that the bodies can be removed. Blade and I watch until Angel’s parents are placed in black body bags and taken away.
Eventually I follow Blade back to the compound. We’d planned to kill her father, but until I’m off my bike and walking toward the clubhouse I hadn’t considered how I would tell Angel that he was dead.
Covering the distance from my bike to my room seems to take an eternity. Pushing open the door, my eyes land on Angel. She’s curled on her side watching TV and she looks so young and innocent. I close the door behind me. She looks up from the bed and a glorious grin spreads across her face. She jumps up and rushes across the room , leaping into my arms. “Hey, I missed you.”
Lowering my head, I kiss her, then hold her away from me.
“What’s the matter?” She asks, her head tipped to the side in question.
The words stick in my throat. How do you tell someone that both of their parents are dead? Even though her parents were horrible excuses for human beings, they were still her parents.
I swallow. “Baby. I have to tell you something.”
Her eyes go guarded and I want to tell her it’s nothing, and that it’s all going to be fine, but that would be a lie.
“There was an accident. It’s your parents. They were in their car. They’re dead, Angel; they’re both dead. I’m so sorry, baby.”
Her legs give way and she collapses to the floor. Her face goes blank, like she’s not entirely sure how to react. When the sobs start, they consume her whole body. Sinking to the floor, I pull her into my arms, but she thrashes and pushes away from me.
“No, no, no.” Her voice is hoarse and so filled with anguish that my heart actually hurts just at hearing the sound.
Scooting away from me, she buries her head into her knees and wails. The sound is inhuman, like an animal caught in a trap. I don’t know what to do, or what to say, so I just sit next to her and watch the woman I love fall apart.
I don’t know how I expected her to react. Did I think she would somehow be relieved that both of her parents were dead? Eventually her sobs quiet and she just rocks back and forth, lost to her grief. Pulling her into my arms, I try to comfort her, to offer her my love and support, but she pushes away from me and scrambles across the floor, climbing onto the bed and curling into a ball.
Crouching at the side of the bed, I watch as she stares unseeing into space, tears streaming down her face. “Talk to me, Angel. What can I do? I hate seeing you like this, just tell me what you need me to do.”
“Nothing. You can’t do anything for me. My parents are dead. I wanted him to die, I prayed for it, begged for it, again and again. Daisy, I did this. I asked God to take his life. I didn’t understand how God could let him keep hurting me and my mom so I begged him to take him away. I’m a terrible person and because I wanted him to die, my mama was taken too. She suffered so much. He’d brainwashed her, but she was a good person deep down. She helped me escape and because of me, she’s dead too. What kind of person wishes for another person to die? Their deaths are my penance for leaving. I could have saved them. If I had just stayed put and let him sell me, then they would both still be alive. I did this. I did this.”
“No,” I cry. Kneeling up I cradle her face in my hands. “No. You didn’t do this. I wished for him to die too. I didn’t cause their deaths, and neither did you. It’s a tragedy, but it’s not your fault.”
Closing her eyes, she twists her head to the side and blocks me out. I let my hands fall from her face and sink back down to the floor next to the bed. I’ve never dealt with grief before, never mourned the loss of anyone, especially not the death of a parent. I don’t know what to do, so I just sit next to her, silently offering her my love and support.
We stay like this, me on the floor, her curled into a ball on the bed, for the next two hours. She doesn’t speak and neither do I, any words I could offer her seem inconsequential. A knock on the door finally breaks the solitude and rising from the floor I cross the room to open it. A grim looking Smoke is on the other side. He glances past me to look at Angel before his eyes return to mine. “Cops are here. They need Dove to formally identify the bodies.”
I finch. “Someone else needs to do it. She’s not in any fit state.”
“I’m fine. I can do it.” Angel says, her voice monotone and lifeless.
Spinning around, I look over my beautiful broken girl. Her face is puffy from all the tears she’s cried. She looks so fucking young, and all I want to do is pull her into my arms and smother her with all the love I have. Instead, I move to the side as she pulls on her boots and walks past me, straight out of the door.
Smoke and I share a look as I close my bedroom door behind me and follow after my girl. She walks purposely to Prez’s office and knocks, before opening the door and entering the room. I follow her, quietly closing the door behind me.
Grits, Prez, and two uniformed officers are in the office. Grits pulls Angel into her arms, but she doesn’t react; instead she stands rigid and unyielding as her friend tries to offer her comfort and support.
The cops speak, but I can’t focus on what they’re saying. My eyes don’t move from Angel. I watch her, waiting for the chink in her impenetrable armor to show, but she never falters. She’s emotionless as the police inform her that her parents were both involved in a fatal car accident. She’s detached as we climb into the police cruiser and head to the hospital. Her expression is impassive as the mortician draws back the curtain that reveals the bodies of both her parents.
She finally loses it when her eyes fall to her mother’s lifeless body. She twists her face into my chest and a strangled cry escapes from her. I nod to the officers and the curtain is quickly drawn, hiding her parents from us once again.
Angel’s limbs give way and I lift her into the air, carrying her from the room. She clings to me, hot tears running silently onto my shoulders. I hold her in my lap the whole drive back to the compound and then carry her back to our room where I hold her in my arms for the rest of the night. She alternates between inconsolable wails and silent, body wracking sobs. By the time the sun starts to filter through the blinds, we’ve barely slept at all.
I don’t know what to do. I fetch us food, but she refuses to eat. She hasn’t spoken in hours and her eyes are dead. I want to kiss her, hold her, and surround her with all my love. I want to tell her over and over that I love her and that she’s not alone, but right now I’m not sure that’s enough. Anything I can offer her seems insignificant in the face of her loss.