I couldn’t believe it. After all this time, after all that I’d been through, I was back in my old bedroom. Dakin had brought me here, to my old home, which he was now using as a headquarters for whatever operations he and his gang were getting up to in the area. He’d thought it’d be really funny to toss me in here and lock the door.
“Take a look at these here windows,” he said, strolling over to the window that I’d made my escape from.”
He opened the window, revealing a grid of hard black bars.
“Solid steel,” he said, rapping on the bars with his knuckle. “After your last little escape, I decided I wouldn’t make that mistake again. So you’re just gonna sit tight here until I come back. Don’t go getting up to any trouble now, you hear?”
With that, he ducked out of the door, his wicked grin seemingly lingering in the air as he shut the door behind him and locked it. I sat down on the bed, the still air around me so quiet that it was almost oppressive. Looking around my old room, I felt a tugging at my heart as I took stock of the damage that Dakin and his men had done to it. The walls were stained, just about everything had been ripped off the walls, and nearly everything had been pulled off the bookshelves. Here and here lay needles, bits of leftover marijuana, and there was even a small mirror with a couple of partially-unrolled dollar bills next to it. They’d turned my childhood room into a den of just about every kind of sin I could imagine.
Getting up, I decided to check the windows, just in case. I pulled open the window and looked out through the grid of bars at the backyard beyond. Dakin’s men were here and there, hanging out near their bikes and swilling beers, their raunchy voices carrying abrasively through the evening air. I placed my hands on the bar and, sure enough, they were as solid as it got, and bolted onto the house. And even if I somehow managed to get past the bars, there was no way that I’d make it without Dakin’s men seeing me. I was stuck.
I shut the window, now wanting to hear Dakin’s men carry on. I stepped into the bathroom attached, and checked the other door that led to the adjacent study. Surprisingly, it was unlocked. I opened the door, revealing Grandma Dove’s quaint little study, the small, cozy room where she used to read me stories and listen to the radio. Thankfully, Dakin hadn’t given this room the full MC treatment, so it was mostly intact. The bookshelves that lined the walls hadn’t been ransacked, and Grandma Dove’s easy chair was still useable. The small fireplace was packed full of beer cans, however, and the window in here hadn’t been spared the bars. I gave the door handle a try, but my luck wasn’t good enough to have it be unlocked.
Plopping into Grandma’s easy chair, I let my eyes move over the colorful spines of the books packed into the bookshelves. A small smile formed on my face as the title of each one brought me back to the time when Grandma had read it to me, each memory fresh and real. And as I glanced from book to book, my eyes settled on one that I hadn’t noticed before. It was a book with a teal-colored spine and a small symbol on the side that struck me as familiar. My eyes went wide as I realized what it was.
I burst out of my seat, rushing over to the book. Taking it off the shelf, I confirmed what I’d suspected: the symbol was a dove, just like the one on my pendant. And on the cover was no title, but simply a star.
What book is this? I wondered. The dove … my name … no title or author ...
I opened the book up with feverish fingers. To my shock, the pages had been hollowed out. In the space that the pages had occupied was an envelope with my name written on it.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
My hands shaking, I took the envelope and set the book aside. Slipping my finger into the fold, I opened the envelope. Inside was a folded sheet of paper. I opened it up and a smaller piece of paper fell out of that.
The larger piece of paper was Grandma’s will.
As I scanned it with eager eye, I saw that, sure enough, Grandma had left everything to me. She hadn’t forgotten to leave me the home; she hadn’t forgotten to take care of me. Her illness had simply taken her so suddenly that she hadn’t had a chance to put all of her affairs in order. But in my hands was proof that this home wasn’t Dakin’s—it was mine.
I picked up the smaller piece of paper, the one that was folded inside the will. Unfolding it, I saw that it was a handwritten note, the letters in Grandma’s loopy, ornate handwriting.
Dearest Star,
This house has been a home to me for decades, and for you your entire life. I hope that you can look back on your childhood here with fondness. If you’re reading this, I’ve passed. All that I own is now yours, of course. Use it to build the happy life you deserve.
Grandma Dove
Tears welled in my eyes as I read the note over and over again. I pressed the paper to my breast, overjoyed. I read the will one last time, seeing that she hadn’t simply left me the home and everything it in; there were safety deposit boxes listed on the will. I stuffed the will into my pocket.
My heart sank, however, when I realized that there wasn’t a chance in hell that Dakin would give a damn about what this will had to say. The only way I was getting the house back was by giving him the boot, and how I was going to do that was anyone’s guess.
But now I had a strength that I hadn’t realized I’d possessed. I felt as though Grandma was watching over me, and I felt empowered in a way I’d never before felt.
Placing the book back on the shelf, my eyes moved to some of the nearby rows of books. Something seemed … off about them. They weren’t neatly arranged in the way Grandma had liked them; they seemed to have been haphazardly shoved onto the shelves. As I stepped towards them, I realized that there was something very odd going on.
Taking one of the books off of the shelf, I noticed right away that it had a strange feel to it, an uneven distribution of weight that made it feel unlike any book that I’d ever held … with the exception of the book that contained the will. I opened it up, and when I did, I nearly dropped it.
Just as with the book containing the will, the pages were cut out. But instead of an envelope, it was packed full of small baggies of snow-white powder.
Drugs, I realized right way. They’re storing drugs in my home.
I went through book after book, opening them and finding the same story—baggies of drugs. Stepping back, I realized that half of the books had been changed in such a way. Only about halfway through the bookshelf just before the one that held the book containing the will did they stop. It looked like eventually they would’ve gotten to it. I’m sure Dakin would only have been too pleased to find that and tear it to shreds.
Shocked, I backed away from the bookshelves. And as I did, my foot caught on something, and I fell backward onto my rear. I scanned the floor to see just what had caused my fall. It was a slat of the wood floor that wasn’t flush with the rest; it looked as though it’d been removed recently. I crawled towards it and pried it up. It easily lifted, and once it was removed I looked down at that area it’d been hiding.
It was the small space beneath the house, and down in it were more drugs than I’d ever seen in one place, even in the movies. And around the drugs were small wooden boxes filled to the brim with weapons. It was worse than I’d ever imagined. Not only had Dakin taken over my home, he’d turned it into a base of operations for just about every seedy enterprise that he had a finger in.
But before I could consider the matter for too much longer, I heard the door to my bedroom open.
“Hey girl!” shouted Dakin. “Where you at?”
My blood ran cold and my heart pounded. I scanned the room for anything I could use to defend myself. I considered the books, but there was no way I’d be able to fight him off for long with those. And before I could form a plan, Dakin appeared at the door leading from the study to the bathroom.
“There you are, missy,” he said, unsteady on his feet, a hungry, animal look in his eyes. “Come here—I’m gonna get what I almost paid half a mil for.”
He had one thing on his mind, and it was clear as day what it was. Luckily, he seemed to be on one drug or another, so he didn’t appear to be at his full strength. But I was sure he’d still be able to overpower me.
“See you found the stash,” he said, his eyes on the opened slats and the exposed books. “Maybe I’ll let you take a little sample of the good stuff once we’ve, ah, consummated this little relationship of ours.”
“We don’t have a ‘relationship,’ you pig,” I said. “You’re nothing to me.”
I didn’t know where those words were coming from. It was like I had some kind strength that I’d never before possessed. I was almost shocked to hear the words come out of my mouth.
And so was Dakin. His eyebrows rose in surprise.
“Got a little more spirit than I remember you having,” he said, moving towards me. “Good. I like a girl with a little spunk.”
Despite his intoxication, he closed the distance between the two of us in a split second. He grabbed me by the upper arms and shoved me against the bookshelves. I cried out in pain as the shelves dug into my back.
“Now, I’m gonna make this real clear,” he said, his breath hot on my face as I winced my eyes shut. “I’m gonna take what I want, and you’re not gonna do a damn thing about it. You can make this easy, or you can make it rough. Either way, you’re mine—now and forever.”
I think he wanted me to submit, but the strength emerged once again. Instead of collapsing into a weeping, scared ball, I lunged forward, my mouth wide open. Like some kind of savage beast, I sank my teeth into the muscles of Dakin’s bare shoulder, my mouth filling with the coppery taste of blood.
“Ah!” he shouted, stepping back and looking at the ragged bite on his shoulder. “You goddamn … bitch!”
I spit out the blood in my mouth and prepared for a fight. Dakin stood across from me with murder in his eyes, and I wasn’t sure if he wanted to rape me or just kill me out of anger. Either way, I wasn’t going down without a fight. Dakin squared his shoulders and prepared to do his worst.
But before he could, a series of bangs sounded out from somewhere outside of the house. Dakin ran to the window to see what was going on, and as he did, a pounding thudded from the door leading into the study.
“Dakin!” called out the voice on the other side. “Open up!”
Dakin rushed to the door and pulled it open, revealing a very worried-looking biker.
“What the fuck is going on?” demanded Dakin, his hand covering the wound I’d given him.
“It’s … the Warhawks!” said the man, panic gripping his voice. “They’re attacking!”
A small glimmer of joy alighted in my heart.
Tank was here for me. And he was going to make sure Dakin and all the rest paid the price.