CHAPTER THIRTEEN
T and Rocker sat together in T's truck in the parking lot outside Sacred Heart Hospital high on Spokane's South Hill.
When T pulled to halt under the portico, Rocker had been waiting for him inside the ER doors, and by the time T was out of the truck two hospital personnel were there with a gurney. They swiftly but carefully loaded Manda onto it and wheeled her inside and through the ER to a curtained cubby.
T followed, giving them the info he had—that Manda was the victim of a beating which he thought had happened a few hours ago. And no, she wasn't as far as he knew on any drugs, nor was she a user. This done, he could do no more, but watch as a doctor and assistant took over, hooking her up to monitors and an IV, and calling for various tests.
He then had to give a statement to one of Spokane's finest, while Rocker waited nearby. This took a while, as it was clear the young cop recognized their Flyers' cuts. He questioned T meticulously, going over his story more than once. Since the kid was doing his best for Manda, T was okay with that.
When a big bruiser like him brought in a woman beat to hell, of course everyone was going to suspect domestic violence. He'd seen the suspicious looks on the doctor's face and his assistants. Didn't blame 'em one bit. The shit they saw come in here would leave anyone suspecting the worst of their fellow humans.
Finally they were done jawing, T had assured Officer Shin that he would not be leaving the area, but would in fact be remaining in the hospital until Manda woke, and the cop went off to make his report.
Checking in on Manda, T found she was being admitted, and would soon be heading for the first in a series of tests to ascertain the severity of trauma to her head. Since T had no idea of her next of kin, or their whereabouts, he was encouraged to leave his phone number as contact on her chart. He also left his credit card information for payment, since he also had no idea if she had any kind of insurance.
He wasn't sure his bank account was up to covering all of her expenses in this place, but he didn't know what else to do.
Now T sat with Rocker in the truck. Rocker had made the decision it was time to clue their president in, and fast.
"This is fucked up," T muttered, gazing at the wet parking lot, now washed with spring sunshine pouring between the clouds. An ambulance pulled into the ER drive, lights flashing.
"Oh, yeah," Rocker agreed. He put his phone to his ear. "Stick? Yeah, he's here. Got the girl into the ER. Don't know, they're checking her over now. Nope. All right, I"ll tell him. See you then."
He looked over to T. "The Black Wolves are over at the casino for a few hours. Pretending to gamble while they check out the competition. Anyway, Stick's callin' church at 5 o'clock. That's in... two hours. You're gonna be on deck."
T nodded. "Yeah, I figured." He set his hands on the steering wheel and squeezed, until his arms knotted and his knuckles whitened with pressure. "Gonna find that little fuck-head, Rock. And I'm gonna rip his dick off and feed it to him. And his stupid little muscle boy, too. They touched her... scared her... smacked her around."
Rocker nodded. "I know, brother. But none of that's your fault."
T groaned. "Yeah, it is. I shouldn'ta left her there. I knew she was too fine to stay at those crap-hole cabins, I knew it. And I still drove off an' left her there. She's new to the life, Rock. Don't think she had any idea what she'd walked into with Faro."
"No, I'm sure not. No more than Opal did. The important thing is, you got Manda out. She has a chance to get out of the life, and that's thanks to you. So do not beat yourself up for what that little sociopath did to her. Yeah, he fooled her, he fooled you and a lot of other people, I expect. But now we got him in our sights, and that means his days are numbered. So you focus on how we can help her when she wakes up. Yeah?"
He grasped T's shoulder. "We will get him. And when we do, you get first go at him. How's that sound?"
T looked at him. "Fuckin' awesome."
"All right" Rocker slapped him on the shoulder. "I'm off. See you in a few."
He gave T a look that said he'd best be in the club house meeting room in two hours, ready to explain himself to his brothers and officers, no matter what.
T sighed. "I'll be there."
For now, he wanted to get back inside, and find out if the doctors had any answers, and where they were taking Manda.
At five o'clock that evening, T walked across the main room of the clubhouse, into the hallway, and through the double doors of their meeting room. Once a flooring display room, it now held a long oak table surrounded by several chairs. On the north wall hung an American flag, with a Devil's Flyers banner below. The windows were shielded with heavy shades.
Stick already sat in the big chair before the flag, with Rocker at his right hand, Bouncer to his left.
The mood in the room was not warm and fuzzy. And the chilly displeasure radiated chiefly from Stick Vanko. A powerful man, he led their chapter with the force of his personality and intellect.
T was bigger, physically more powerful, and reasonably intelligent, but he didn't kid himself about who the boss was here. Their club had few rules, but he'd broken one of the paramount—when ordered to wait to move on a situation, a brother held himself in check, and he waited. Today, T had not done this.
Now, despite the chill in the room, as he took his seat on one side of the long table, he was sweating under his tee and cut.
Moke followed T in, and Cooler, Snake, Webb and Knife weren't far behind. Pete was last in, closing the door behind him.
Hootch was in Cali. Toro, a short Hispanic built like his namesake bull, was visiting his extensive family in Pasco, and a few of the other brothers were at work.
Stick took his seat at the head of the table. "All right," he said in his deep, cold voice. "We have a situation. T-Bear, fill us in." Stick's pale, icy gaze was a silent demand that T had better make it good.
T-Bear wiped his sweaty palms on his pant legs, and swallowed.
Then he told them how he'd met Rezan Faro at one of the poker nights at a State Line strip club. How Faro had messaged him Friday afternoon that he knew T liked blondes, and he had a new one for T to meet.
T had accepted after he saw Manda's picture on his phone, taken her out to supper at the Roadhouse in Rathdrum, then back to the Pine Cabins. He related how he'd left her there, not happy about the condition of the place, but reasoning that she was safe for then, because Faro was on site.
And how everything had changed the next morning when Rocker had told him of Faro's attack on a stripper earlier in the winter. How T’s gut said he shouldn't wait to get Manda out of Faro's grasp. How he'd finally acted on that.
And how he found her bound and beaten, proving his hunch right on the money.
"Sorry, Stick, Rocker, Bounce," he said to the officers, his voice hoarse from talking. "Rocker said wait, and I didn't. And I'll take whatever consequences you decide, no protest. But... if I'd waited for the rest of you to back me up, she coulda been in worse shape. No way they were gonna leave her alone much longer. An’ being honest, if I had to do it over, I'd do the same."
"So what's your plan now?" Stick asked.
T blinked. He'd been occupied with telling his story, keeping every detail straight. He’d made eye contact while doing so, but Stick was damn good at maintaining a poker face. Now, the pres looked almost relaxed, lounging back in his chair as if he hadn't a care in the world.
T shifted uneasily, his face heating. "Well... now you mention it, she needs somewhere safe when she comes outta the hospital. I thought maybe I'd ask if Manda can stay in the little house on your property," he admitted. "She's got nowhere to go. No money, no job, nothin'. Her shit-head ex even took her clothes and shit with him when he dumped her."
Stick eyed him for a long, gut-knotting moment. Then he slowly shook his head. "No. Sorry, but I don't want to risk bringing trouble to my doorstep, if Faro comes looking for her. I got Sara and the boys to worry about."
T's shoulders sagged. "Okay, I get that, but fuck... anybody else got an idea where she could go? Gotta be somewhere Faro can't get to her, somewhere she's outta sight." He looked to Pete, who had a big farmhouse out in the country a few miles from town.
Pete grimaced. "Sorry, bro. We're having the plumbing redone, after that burst pipe last week. We're gonna be bunking at Stick and Sara's for a few nights ourselves until the water's back on."
Rocker spoke up. "Why can't Manda stay here with you, at the clubhouse? Hell, she can move into my room. I'm hardly ever here, now that Billie's livin' with me."
"What?" Bouncer demanded. "Now we're running one of them clubs for bitches?"
"Seems to me I recall your ex-old lady bunked here for a while, back when you were first together," Rocker told him. "You didn't mind that one bit."
"Yeah, 'cause he was getting a blow job whenever he wanted," Cooler said.
Bouncer gave him an ugly look, but Cooler merely smirked. T would've laughed another time but not now, with so much hanging on this decision.
"She won't be no trouble, Bounce," T-Bear promised. "She's a real nice gal, just havin' a tough go of it lately."
"You claimin' her exclusive-like?" Snake asked. "Or can any brother have a shot?"
"We ain't together," T admitted. But his hands bunched into fists on the scarred table top, and tension built in his shoulders. "But any brother who don't treat her with the same respect we give the old ladies... that man will have me to deal with. An' I won't go easy."
"Right, then." Stick tapped the table with his fingertips. "She can stay for a couple of weeks. She's not club pussy, this is for her protection. It goes without saying that we'll each be keeping eyes on our own women, da? This Faro likes hurting women. He knows who T is, knows there are other old ladies around the club. He might take the chance to get back at T, at us through them."
Rocker nodded. "We'll keep eyes on our women. We'll also find him, and shut him down."
"How far we gonna shut him down?" Moke asked.
Stick shrugged. "We'll decide that when the time comes."
"Any of you catch him, I want time with him," T said, flexing his fists. "Want him to know what it feels like to be worked over by someone bigger and stronger."
Rocker nodded slowly. "I'm all for that."
"Hell," Pete said, a dark look in his light eyes. "I'm sure we'd all like a turn."
Bouncer snorted. "Might have to keep your old ladies away from him for his own protection. Bet they'd wrestle to be first in line to get a crack at him."
The brothers were silent for a moment, contemplating this probability. The Flyers' old ladies stuck together, and they were fierce. T and Pete exchanged a look, and Pete raised his brows. "He's right about that."
Snake snickered. "Maybe they could jello-wrestle for a chance at him."
T surprised himself by laughing at this mental picture, and the brothers joined in, breaking the tension that had gripped the room.
"Fuck, it's always somethin' around here, ain't it?" Rocker asked no one in particular.
Bouncer slapped him on the back, grinning. "That's why we're Flyers, brother. Livin' high style."
Rocker lifted his hand and the two smacked palms.
But then Rocker leaned forward. "T, I got another question for you. You said Faro called you. How'd he get your phone number? Can't see you sharing that with every slick you play poker with."
This was a helluva good point. T shook his head. "I got nothin'."
"Didn't your phone just go missing last weekend?" Bouncer ribbed him. "Along with a wad of cash?"
"Yeah, yeah," T grumbled. "Like everybody ain't heard that story."
Rocker held up a hand. "Wait. Bounce's point is good. What was the bitch's name, Krissie, or somethin'?"
"Krystelle," T said impatiently. "And yeah, she shook me down. It happens. Club pussy ain't exactly church ladies."
"I think Rock means, maybe Krystelle had a reason to steal your shitty phone," Pete said. "Maybe somebody, like Faro, paid her to grab it."
When T looked to him, his friend shrugged. "I don't know, T. Just thought it was weird she'd take your phone when it was all cracked and shit. Hell, even Ivan’s twins would know it wasn't worth anything, and they’re only five years old."
"This is a good point," Stick said. "And if Rocker's right, then someone now has T's contact list. Which I'm guessing includes most of us?"
T looked around the table, and sighed. "Shit. Yeah, you're all in my contacts." Just like he was in most of theirs. Another screw-up on him.
"Damage control. Any of you have GPS on your phones, turn it off now," Rocker ordered. "Make sure your women and kids do the same. I’ll alert the other brothers. If Faro does have our numbers, we don't know how tech savvy he is. T, you need to change your phone number and your passwords. And please tell me you don't use any banking apps on your phone."
"Nope," T said. "I carry cash, once in a while use a credit card. I better cut that up and get a new one, too." He sighed again, more heavily. "Fuck, now I feel like a plague dog." He couldn't do anything right. Well, except save Manda.
Everyone had their phones out, frowning as they searched for the GPS app—everyone except Rocker, that is. The ex-cop ran a security company, and was way too savvy to let anyone track him in any way he didn't choose to let them.
"What the hell's a plague dog?" Pete asked, gaze on his phone, his thumbs flying.
T shrugged. "Story I listened to, about these two dogs just tryin' to get home across England. But they escaped from a top-secret science lab, an' they're carriers for the bubonic plague, which went nearly extinct way back in the olden days, until these fuckin' scientists decide they wanna play with it. So anyone who tries to help these dogs might catch what they got. Had a real sad ending."
"You read some weird shit, brother," Cooler said, shoving his phone back in his pocket.
"Fiction keeps us sane," Rocker said. When they all looked at him, he winked at T. "That's what my woman says, and since she brings in good coin makin' up stories for those games of hers, I'm not arguing."
"Fuck, yeah. Who's gonna argue with the woman we can thank for the epically hot Sheenah?" T agreed. "Gotta say, playin' a round of Elven Warriors can make a shitty day go away."
Although maybe not this one.
"So does a bottle of whiskey," Bouncer said, shaking his head at the two of them. "And I don't look like an idiot drinkin' it."
Stick rose, cuffing his sgt on the shoulder, his eyes twinkling. "Oh, I wouldn't say that, Bounce. Seen you do a few stupid tricks when you're deep in a bottle."
The other guffawed. Bouncer rose, scowling, and smacked Cooter out of his way as he headed for the door. "Buncha jokers."
"T," Stick said, lingering at the door. "Your girl stays here, she will help out, and carry her own weight, da?"
"Sure, Stick," T said. "I'll see to it." And if it turned out she wasn't much for housework or cooking, he'd slip the cleaning ladies a few extra twenties to make up the slack. He was just tickled that she'd be here, with him. Safe, and close where she could get to know him.
And where, once she was all well and perky again, he could sweet-talk her into some more of that hot, sweet sex.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket. Right now, he had some old ladies to get in on his plan.
"And T," Stick added, his voice once again cold. "We'll revisit your decision not to follow Rocker's orders. We're not done with this, da?"
T swallowed. "Da. I mean, right. I hear you, Stick."
Fuck. Somehow, someway, he'd pay for his disobedience. And if he knew Stick Vanko, it wouldn't be pleasant.