Liona
Giggling like school kids, the pair ran back down the path through the woods. The angry-sounding farmer from the edge of the trees had appeared just as they'd finished pulling their socks and shoes back on, and he'd shaken a fist at them as they went running back down the hill. They'd abandoned their remaining food and Cutter's tattered old blanket in favor of getting away.
Now they ran carefully back through the trees with one eye on the forest floor and another on their destination. “Come on,” Cutter called, “he's gonna catch us!”
She glanced back over her shoulder, eyes wide, but the farmer had long since given up his pursuit.
“Oh, shut up!” she huffed back at him between gasping breaths.
Up ahead of her, he laughed loudly at her having taken the bait. A few minutes later, the two of them were bent over, panting and wheezing for breath like they'd just run a marathon. Both were red-faced from the exertion. “You need to get out more,” he choked out, grinning.
“You're just as out of breath as me,” she replied, slapping him playfully.
Together, they hopped on the back of his chopper and tore off down the back road. Liona wrapped her arms around Cutter's waist and pulled herself close as he revved the engine, really letting it rip and roar, as they whipped off down the broken asphalt with a whooping yell from them both. The wind rushed past them, tearing at their clothes as they raced back down the roads, laughing the whole way. A little while later, they pulled up in the empty clubhouse parking lot and Cutter parked the bike near the metal building. Cutter checked the time as they hopped down off his hog. He muttered something, a half-formed thought.
“What's up?” she asked.
“Almost two o'clock, that's all.”
“Have somewhere important to be?” she asked as she slid her hands around his waist, beneath his patched vest.
“Actually,” he said as he leaned down to kiss her, “I do.”
“Oh?” she asked after his lips brushed hers. “Who ya meeting? Another lover?” she asked, giggling a little at the implication.
“Not quite,” he said with a laugh as he shook his head.
“Well, can I come along for the ride? I love being on the back of your bike.”
He bit his lip and shook his head again. “No,” he said, “not to this meeting.”
Liona laughed again, thinking it was another bad joke but she realized as she looked into his eyes there wasn’t anything humorous about it. “Oh. You're serious, aren't you?”
“Yeah,” he growled. “Sorry, but you can't come along.”
“Well, who is it, then? That you can't bring me along?”
He glanced away with a sigh. “Look, I don't think you really need to know.” There was something about the way he said it, the way he seemed almost ashamed of what he was doing.
“No,” she said. She snatched her wrist out of reach as he went to grab her hand, to presumably pull her toward the clubhouse. “I think I absolutely need to fucking know what's going on. And I need to know right now.”
“Let's just talk about this inside,” he said.
“Why?”
“Why?” he asked, frustrated. “Because I need Smalls and Squirrel to watch you while I'm gone.”
Then, somehow, it all clicked in her head. What he wanted to do, where he was going, why she needed to be watched by the two remaining Vanguard. How she knew, she couldn’t say – only that there was only one obvious conclusion to be drawn. “You're going to meet him, aren't you?” she nearly hissed. “You're going to meet with that fucker Wyland!”
He sighed. “Babe,” he said, “I really need you to listen to me on this. I have to meet someone, and I've gotta be there in about thirty minutes. Okay?”
She crossed her arms and put her foot down, feeling a little like a petulant child as she stamped in the dusty parking lot. “You tell me what's going on right now, Desmond Hawes. Or, so help me God, this is over.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, then closed it again. Like a poor fish out of water. Which, Liona supposed, he was. From the way he'd described his life, he'd steered clear of romantic attachments. Cutter had wanted a life that was beholden to no one, man or woman.
“He offered me a deal, to testify against another gang in court, but I've got a plan to flip it back on him,” he said. “Even our lawyer thinks it'll work, if we can get some hard evidence.”
“So, that's why the guys are coming home?”
“That's right,” he said, nodding. “Because I agreed to meet with him.”
“He's going to fuck you over,” she said. “You know that, right? Wyland gets his shits and giggles from jerking people around.”
He nodded. “I know. But, this is the best plan we have, Liona.”
“I don't like it.”
“I don't like it either,” he reminded her. “But, ain't no one else coming up with a better, foolproof plan that I've heard.”
She looked down at her shoes, scuffed them against the gravel lot. She took a deep breath and looked up at the pale blue sky, at the vault of heaven that stretched from horizon to horizon. “I want to go with you,” she said, finally.
“No,” he said. His voice was flat, firm. “That right there, that would be playing right into his fucking hands. I need you here, safe, in case this is some kind of switcheroo-fuck-you that he's trying to pull. If something happens to me, I want to know you're safe where he can't touch you.”
“Cutter,” she said, a little frustrated that it was perfectly fine for him to put himself in harm's way, but it was somehow anathema for her to do the same, “you can't just expect me to stay here safe. I got you into this problem, I want to go with you.”
“You didn't get me into this problem,” he said as he got up off his bike. He came over and pulled her into his arms. “I did.”
She looked to the side, out to the nearly deserted road that led up to the Vanguard clubhouse. “It's my fault he got away with breaking your leg in the first place,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” he replied, his voice gravelly and low, “but it's my fault I'm still in love with you. I have to keep you safe, babe.”
“Desmond, I ... I don't know what to say.”
He stroked her cheek with his fingers, smile down at her. “You don't have to say anything.”
She felt the heat rising to her cheeks and looked away. She thought she'd felt this way, once, about Wyland. All that had been thrown out on its head, though, when he completely flipped on her. What she felt for Cutter, this affection, this attraction. She knew it was real. He'd never hurt her, or betray her. “I love you, too,” she whispered back. “Which is why-”
“Wait,” he said, his voice relieved and shocked at the same time. “You do?”
She looked back up at him, at the little grin on his lips. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting her answer. “Which is why I don't want to let you go.”
“You need to, though,” he said. “Taking responsibility for this, that's what I'm here for. That's part of who I am. I have to go do this. And, if it works, he'll be off our backs forever.”
She nodded, put a hand on his chest. “I know,” she replied after a while. “I just, I don't have to like it, though. Not one bit.”
“Well, ain't like I’m exactly jumping over the moon for this shit, neither,” he said, squeezing her in his arms. “But, we'll get through it, okay?”
Frustrated, she let out a long sigh. “Yeah, okay. I mean, what choice do I have?”
“Not much more than what I've got,” he conceded. “This is a shit show all around, you know. But, let's go talk to the guys, alright? We'll let Smalls and Squirrel know what's going on, get you situated, then I'll head out. I still got a meeting to catch.”
Together, they went inside and found the two other free Vanguard members. They were playing pool in the rec room, sucking back a couple beers, and generally trying to keep their cool while their world fell apart around them.
“Alright, guys,” Cutter announced as he walked in. “Need you to keep an eye on Liona while I head out to a meeting.”
Both men looked over to him from their game, their pool cues gripped tightly in their hands. They exchanged concerned looks, but Smalls spoke first. “What's the meeting about?” he asked.
“I'm meeting with Wyland West,” Cutter grumbled. He held up a hand before either man could lodge a protest. “I don't like it any more than you do.”
He moved them back into the meeting room, a room Liona hadn't been allowed in until now. All of them dropped their cell phones outside, and they closed the door behind them. Secure, and completely safe from eavesdropping, Cutter laid out the plan to the two men and left nothing out.
“What's gonna happen if this don't work?” Cutter's second-in-command asked after he'd finished speaking. “What if he don't slip up and you can't go to the cops or his bosses on this, or whatever?”
He shrugged. “Go to the press, then? That doesn't work, guess I'll take the deal.”
“You can't take the fucking deal!” Smalls, red-faced, roared suddenly as he slammed his fist on the table. “That ain't gonna happen!”
Liona flinched back, eyes wide at the outburst. She'd never known Smalls to react that way to anything in the short time she'd known him. He'd never struck her as the type to yell and pound things with his fists.
“What do you want from me?” Cutter shouted back. “You want me to let the Vanguard get torn down to its foundation? With all my brothers beaten and in jail? I can do something about this!”
“Not this, though!” Smalls shouted back. “You can't fucking rat!”
“I'll turn informant in a heartbeat if it means you're all safe!” Cutter shouted. “Hell, if it meant saving this club, I'd burn the whole goddamn town down!”
Smalls backed off a little bit, hands up. Even Liona took a step back. “Alright, dude,” Smalls said. “It's your life, man. You do what you gotta do. You think you can keep the club together with this plan, you do it. Okay?”
Cutter nodded. “Let's put it to a vote.”
Squirrel snorted. Up until now, he'd been keeping his mouth conspicuously shut. “There's like, I dunno, three of us, boss. Ain't much of a quarry.”
“Quorum,” Smalls, Liona, and Cutter all said at once.
Squirrel blinked in surprise and shook his head. “Quorum. Whatever.”
Cutter seemed to ignore his objection, though. “Vote. Yay or nay.”
“Yay,” Smalls said, raising his hand. Cutter nodded, raised his hand. “Yay.”
Squirrel frowned and shook his head. “Nah, man. I just don't like it. This Wyland guy's just a cop, like the rest of 'em. Don't care if he's a lawyer, or some shit. He's still just a fucking cop to me, and I don't trust him.”
“Those in favor carry it, anyways,” Cutter said. “Guess I'm gonna go meet this asshole, and put the plan into motion. You two stay and protect her, alright?”
“Yeah,” Smalls replied. “We got her.”
Cutter pushed back from the table.
Liona scrambled after him as he grabbed his vest and left the room. “Cutter, wait a second.”
“What's up, babe?” he asked as he scooped up his cell phone from the little basket just outside the room and stuffed it away in a pocket.
“I just, I wanted to tell you to be careful. Okay? And don't trust him.”
“I know. I will be, and I won't.”
They embraced again, one last time before he left. He held her against him, his strong arms encircling her like a ring of protection and security. “I love you,” he said, just louder than a whisper.
“I love you, too,” she whispered back. She stood up on tiptoes and kissed him. “I still wish you'd take me with you, though. I don't like this, Cutter.”
“We went over this,” he said, squeezing her one last time. “I can handle Wyland, okay? I'll be back soon, alright?” Then, he was letting her go and heading out the front door.
She watched him as he left. She didn't like this, not one bit. Not only did she worry that he'd bitten off more than he could chew, she didn't like this feeling of helplessness. Not after she'd been given a glimpse of what having control of her own life could be like.
But, maybe that it was her fate to be in one prison or another. Imprisoned by her fear of Wyland, imprisoned by her worrying over Cutter trying to protect her. Every which way she turned, she seemed to see bars in front of her. Some effort by someone to control her. She clutched her hands into fists at her side and shook her head: no, something had to change.