Race
“Where is she?” Shannon asks as I walk through the door of the diner. She nearly drops the plates to the ground when Nicco appears behind me.
The only response I can muster is, “We need you.”
Just an hour earlier, we had reached out and got ahold of Preacher. It had definitely not been easy. The detective – the one we had paid a small fortune for – wanted protection from his boss. He had wanted there to be no way for Preacher to determine it was him double-crossing him.
While I couldn’t make promises, I respected the request. What the detective did give me was an address to an old bar and restaurant in Roadhead territory. She is there, he promised me. He wouldn’t move her – at least, not without him knowing it. But there had been a dead body, and Preacher had a reputation for having very little patience – and for taking blood for no good reason.
I had a relatively new enforcer drop the message to the door. His instructions were simple. Place it in the hands of a rider and then get the fuck out of there before being killed. Don’t come in riding with colors or patches. Take an unmarked car and stick to the main streets. The note was the most important part. It needed to get into Preacher’s hands as fast as possible.
Soon after the rider came back, my phone rang.
“Preacher?” I asked as casually as I could, though my blood boiled at the thought of the bastard on the other line.
“Race, I presume.”
“Where is she, Preacher?”
“You mean my daughter?”
“I mean my woman,” I corrected him.
“Your claim means nothing to me. She was my daughter first.”
“She’s carrying my child, you fucking son of a bitch!” My voice rose with my temperature. I was not about to let this bastard keep me away from what was rightfully mine.
Preacher, for his part, didn’t seem the least bit phased by me. “Again, that means nothing to me. My grandchild will be raised by real men. Roadhead men.”
“Like hell he will be.”
“You know,” he said, “when I joined the Roadheads, I had to prove my worth. My first night with the club, I fought their best fighter. Killed the man in under ten minutes. I didn’t have to kill him; I only had to knock him till he quit. But I beat the shit out of him until he couldn’t breathe just so the rest of the men could see I meant business.”
“What does that have to do with Delilah, Preacher?”
“It doesn’t. Not a goddamn thing. It does, however, have everything to do with you.” He paused, almost as if he were thinking to himself, before continuing. “I want to know what you’ve done to get that plush seat you got with the Devils.”
“Hey, fella,” I said, holding my anger at bay as best I can, “I earned my badges just like you did. But you want to know what the difference between you and me is?”
“This oughta be good.” He snorted.
I continue as if he hadn’t interrupted me. “It’s that I at least got some integrity. I respect the codes of the road. You do remember those, right? Like the Number One rule: don’t mess with any man’s claimed lady.”
At this, Preacher guffawed. “I don’t plan on messing with her. In fact, I’ve kept her comfortable, given her food. Hell, I’ve even taken out a guy who put his hands on her without my permission. She’s been treated like a fucking queen around here. And she will continue to be when I’ve got her linked up with Andre...”
His voice trailed off before I gave in. “What the hell do you want for her? What do we need to give you?”
“Give me? I don’t need anything that you have.”
“This isn’t about the clubs? The territories?”
“No. This is a family matter – one you managed to stick your damn nose in.”
“You left your family. You left Shannon and Del to fend for themselves. You’re just a deadbeat bastard coming back from the grave.”
“Shannon is what I’m after, son.”
“What?” I asked, not understanding. “You have Shannon too?”
“No. But I’m willing to work out a deal with you.” His voice almost lightened as he explained, “I can’t take Shannon the same way I took Delilah. She’s got the old dogs watching her every move, and I don’t mess with men from my past. So I’m willing to make a deal with you. You get Shannon, bring her to me, and we can talk about me releasing Delilah.”
“How do I know this ain’t a fucking trap?” I asked, not exactly believing his intention.
“I’m not going to give you that time to think it through, boy. You’ve got an hour. Get Shannon and meet us in neutral territory – the abandoned lot on Story Street. Two men and Shannon only. Any more and I call it off, and you’ll never see Delilah again.”
I turned my head towards Nicco. He’d been listening to almost every word but hadn’t interjected. From the look on his face, he was as eager as I was to get shit settled between this maniac and us. One nod gave me the green light.
“I’ll be there, Preacher.”
The phone clicked, and the clock started. We had an hour to convince Shannon to confront the devil in her past. I thought it would take more, but as soon as I explained where Del was and that she was pregnant, the game changed. Shannon would do anything to get her away from Preacher, even if it meant sacrificing herself.
To my surprise, she drops the tray of plates on the countertop of the restaurant, walks off, and returns with a biker helmet and the keys to her own ride. She expertly trails behind us as we cross in and out of Roadhead and Devils’ territory. It was her idea to take the middle ground so she could stand between us when shit went down.
She was and is right.
Now, face-to-face with the bastard, her appearance isn’t softening Preacher at all. If anything, the pulsating electricity between our two groups is magnified with her standing in ground zero.
“What the fuck are you doing, Preacher?” Shannon asks, jumping straight into the action without any hint of fear. I can see where her daughter gets her fire. “You took Delilah? You hunted her down like some punk messing with your business? She was happy and safe where she was!”
“She was working as a waitress with yuppies and slumming around with shitbag Devils, Shannon! That’s not the life I want for our daughter!”
“Let me see her!” Shannon cries out, her voice cracking slightly. “I need to know she’s safe.”
Preacher doesn’t break eye contact with her as he clicks his fingers towards the two goons lurking behind him. One turns and heads towards the black van parked at the edge of the lot. The door opens, and I watch with feet plastered into the ground as I watch Delilah appear. Her hair dangles over her bare shoulders as the man drags her by her stomach towards us. She cries the entire way, clawing out towards us in a dress that clings to her body.
“Mom! Why? What is going on?” Her eyes turn towards me, pleading as she cries, “Help her! Don’t let her do whatever it is he wants her to do!”
“Delilah!” Preacher barks out. “Quiet!”
“Don’t you dare talk to her like that! You’re not her father. You gave that up the minute you walked out on us years ago.” Shannon’s burst is defiant, but it only angers Preacher more.
“You always were an insubordinate, pushy bitch. No wonder this one wound up knocked up by some trailer trash boy.”
“Don’t you fucking step up to me, Preacher,” I interject. “Don’t you dare forget who I am.”
Nicco too takes a big step forward so that he comes level to me. His voice booms over the commotion and chaos of the fighting family. “Give us Delilah. That was the deal. We bring you Shannon, meet you in the neutral zone, and we get the girl.”
“Race? Why?” Delilah cries. “Don’t give my mom to him… please…”
“It wasn’t his decision to make, Del,” Shannon says in an attempt to soothe her. “It was mine.” Her voice shakes, and Del’s cries only grow louder as Shannon moves to Preacher. “What do you want from me, Preacher? You want to kill me? Do me in? Whatever it is, don’t do it in front of our daughter.”
Preacher grabs hold of Del from one of the guards, wrapping her in his arms so that she is forced to nuzzle against his chest. In his hand, I see the faintest glimpse of a silver shank just concealed under his jacket. I motion towards it for Nicco and Seb to see. Nicco makes a play for the back pocket of his jeans as Preacher snickers.
“This! This is what I want, Shannon!” He moves towards his estranged wife as he continues to shout. “You, Delilah, and me! I want us to be a fucking family together! Do you understand how lonely I’ve been? How it’s taken every ounce of me to not come back home, to see my daughter graduate high school, to provide for my wife? And now you want to keep my damn grandchild away from me? I won’t have it, Shannon! I won’t!”
He holds the knife to Del’s throat as Shannon lets out an audible gasp. “If I can’t have you… If I can’t have us, I’m not letting anyone claim this family.”
“Preacher!” I shout, my tolerance dwindling. “This is enough! Let my woman go!”
“See, Shannon!” He turns to face her as she cries in vain, “This cowardly bastard thinks he has more claim on my flesh and blood than I do!” He sneers at me as he adds, “He ain’t worth shit. A real man wouldn’t have negotiated with me. He would’ve stormed heaven and earth to get his girl back. He couldn’t take care of our daughter if he fucking tr—”
Before he can finish his sentence, I feel my feet lift off of the ground. My body flies through the air, barreling towards who knows what. I’ve been in knife fights before, and I know what comes next – the tearing of flesh, the screams, the blood. But none of that matters in this second. All I care about is knocking the living shit out of this asshole and winning back my woman.
I land more on Del than I do on him. I try to soften the blow to her as much as possible by spinning my body away from her and focusing my landing on his knife-holding arm, but she gets enough of it to fall straight to the ground with a horrible thud.
I cry out her name, “Delilah! Fuck!” But I don’t have enough time to listen to her response. Preacher is already on me, slashing towards my arms and shoulders. The thick gutting blade dives blindly towards my flesh, nailing me near the elbow. The warm drip of blood splattered on my sleeve does nothing to stop me.
Preacher’s my height; I have maybe an inch or two on him at most. But he’s more sizable than I am, has twice the presence even I do. Old age has made him soft, but soft men make great towers for fights like this. He may not be moving fast, but he’s not moving either as I wind up and land a blow to his side. The most I hear is a gasp of air from deep within him. He laughs as he scores me again, this time at my neck, dangerously close to ending it all.
“Is that all you got, greenhorn?” he asks, still standing firm. He doesn’t even look phased by the chaos around me. At my jump, Nicco charges at one of his men, and Seb isn’t far behind him. The four of them are tousled in a heap on the ground where all I can make out are the shapes of arms and legs flailing and stabbing at one another.
I can feel, or at least sense, Delilah still at my feet, curled up in a ball. I shout for Shannon to help, but I can barely get her name out of my mouth before Preacher’s on me again. He slashes at my face again, slicing me right along the cheek and cutting into bone. But this time, I see him coming, and as he raises his arm, I managed to score a brutal knock on his breastbone. His knife falls to the ground at my feet, and I do my best to kick it as far away as I can with the tip of my boot.
“Now it’s fair, Preacher!”
“Keep up, kid. If you want to make it around these parts, in the big ole city, you’re gonna have to fight dirty.” He launches his fist towards my broken face, but I duck away. The force knocks him forward with enough velocity that I can push myself against his chest. He backs away, resetting the fight again.
I’ve never been much of a fist-on-fist kind of guy. I trained in the boxing gym when I first joined the club. Nicco had promised me it was the best way to get fit and learn some necessary combat skills for my role as an enforcer. He even had me go in the ring with top local fighters to test my skills and speed.
Since then, I’ve been in fights here and there, and I’ve used these fists more than I care to admit, but those days feel like eternities from now – where I am fighting for something so important that I’d rather die than lose.
Remembering Delilah, her smile in the morning and the sound of my name on her lips, strikes something in me. It’s like the click of an on button or the key in the ignition of a one-kick bike. Everything starts and runs within me until I am fired up at full-force.
I pull my head down, and I take a deep breath. My toes dig into the hard, dry ground, and I release. Each step echoes through me. My feet leap off of the ground and into the air right at Preacher’s side. And as he attempts to duck, I slam my body as hard as I can into him like an eagle swooping at his prey from above.
This time, Preacher’s body relents under my weight. We fall fast towards the ground, his back hitting first with me hovering on top of his chest and thighs. His arms and legs flail and struggle to free themselves, but I pin him as tightly as I can between my legs. He tries striking me, but I nail him first straight in the nose. His head flies back into the rocky ground with his hand cupped around his mouth. I strike him again and again until blood spurts through his fingers.
“Race!” Nicco’s voice comes over the sound of my fists striking his face and Preacher’s tormented screams. “The knife!”
I look over my shoulder to see Nicco in a similar position with his man. The large thug he’s nailed to the ground isn’t moving. A pool of blood forms a ring around his head where it leans against a red-stained rock. In one of Nicco’s hand is Preacher’s fish gutting knife still covered in my blood. He tosses it to me, just out of reach of Preacher’s still moving arms.
The sound of my heartbeat thunders through me as I reach for the weapon. The blade feels warm between my fingers as I press the tip to the man’s neck right at the same spot he cut me. Preacher pulls away from the fight. His body goes stiff under me, his arms reaching above his head.
My words spill out of me like I’ve rehearsed them, “You called me a fucking coward. You told me I was unwilling to fight for my woman. But I’m not a kid, and I’m certainly no greenhorn. What you don’t know about me is that I will do anything to protect my family – including slicing you from limb to limb!”
“Don’t,” the old man whispers. “Don’t do it. Killing her father ain’t gonna score you any points. You’ll just be repeating history for her again.”
“And keeping you alive isn’t going to keep my family safe either.”
I pull the knife away from his throat, flipping it in my fingers. I cup my hand around it and throw it above my head. The blade points straight for his heart; a kill shot I know I can’t miss. Preacher closes his eyes and the world around me finally goes silent. There’s nothing but time ticking away and the sound of the highway in the distance…
“Don’t do it. Please! Spare him!” Shannon’s pleas split through the night. The woman runs to my side, sliding in beside me. She reaches for me over Preacher’s battered body and holds tight to the hand grasping the knife. In my ear, she mutters, “Listen to him, Race. Killing this man is going to do nothing but bring in the old ghosts. Let him live his miserable little life.”
“Ain’t going to happen, Shannon,” I insist. “Not after what he’s done to the woman I love, the mother of my child. He’s got to pay for that.”
“And don’t forget the club and how he’s betrayed those men,” Nicco chimes in from the side. Seb, too, looks on, nodding. He looks worse for wear, but he manages to stand to his feet.
“Let him live. For her. She doesn’t need him in her life, but I know Delilah. I know she won’t forgive herself if she had blood on her hands.”
“It’s my life to take, Shannon. It’s not your say or hers.”
“Then let me make a deal. I’ve got money. Lots of it. It was all from his life insurance that I haven’t touched. I promised I’d give it to Delilah when she was old enough to understand. For this man’s life, I’ll go into business with the club. I’ll buy out some territory. I’ll make it work for all of us.”
Nicco turns towards Shannon. “How much?” he asks, always the businessman.
“Enough to expand headquarters. Maybe open up a club bar or restaurant. Make it legit too. I’ll split the profits. Delilah and I can run it. We both know the business.”
I look towards Delilah, her body still curled up in a U on the ground. “How do you know he’d leave you two alone? How do I know he won’t pull this shit again?”
Seb coughs, interjecting himself into the fight. “Boss, I’ve got an idea. Preacher mentioned he had to prove himself to become the leader of the Roadheads. If he comes back down two men down and embarrassed as fuck, he’s not gonna hold his spot for long. In fact, it may set off a civil war between those riders. Cut him off by the balls. Make them question his leadership. Preacher will be gone in weeks… if he’s got enough huevos in him to even show his face back at headquarters.”
Nicco nods. “That might—”
“You can’t be serious?!” I shout. “I’m not going to let this fucker live!” I brush Shannon off of me as gently as I can, moving the knife back up as high as I can go. Nicco and Seb both call my name, but I’m laser-focused on the task at hand. This man, this horrible fucker of a man deserves this death. For Delilah and my child, I’ll waste him against any order my president gives me. It’ll be worth it to know that he will never touch my family again.
“Race,” Delilah’s voice whispers in my ear. “Put it down.”
I turn my head to see her. Her windswept hair flies behind her. A small cut on her shoulder where her spaghetti strap has fallen is the only injury I can see. She looks tired but determined. She repeats the order again as she places a hand on the side of my face where he hasn’t cut me.
“I can’t let him go, Del.”
“For me. If you love me… If you love us...” She takes my hand and places it on her belly. We both look down. Electricity flies through us both as she says, “We can do this. We can be a family with him still walking this earth. All we need is you.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, our eyes meeting.
She smiles slightly and nods. “Let’s end this – the right way.” The knife slips between my hands and falls to the ground at her knees. She takes the weapon out of sight and then leans forward, kissing me as tenderly as she can. The pain from my gnarly cut on my cheek shoots through my jaw, but it all disappears as she holds me.
Behind us, Seb and Nicco go to work. They find a switch of rope strong enough to bind Preacher to a nearby tree. He’ll be out of sight for long enough to let his punishment sink in. And even then, he’ll probably wind up in the hospital with the injuries I’ve given him. The cops won’t be far off after that. Nicco’s already texted a detective about the big lead he’s about to get. The notorious Preacher will be safely behind bars by tomorrow night.
We watch it all go down, including the cleanup, from the van. The club’s doc on call shows up, stitch kit ready to go. Del holds tight to my fingers as he works on the gashes at my shoulder, neck, and face.
“Are you sure you don’t need to get checked on?” I ask her.
“No. No. I can’t believe this, but… I can feel him move.”
“Y-you’re kidding me.” I stammer. “It’s… it’s moving?”
“It’s kicking the hell out of me. That has to mean it’s okay. Right, doc?”
The doc pauses his work and says, “Yeah. You’d be surprised how strong a woman’s body is when pregnant. If the baby’s kicking and you’re not bleeding, I’d say you can wait until morning to get it checked out. Say you took a fall down some stairs.”
“You’re fucking incredible, Del,” I exclaim. “And I don’t deserve you. I shouldn’t have made you go. I should have said what I wanted to say that night.”
“Which was?” Her eyebrow rises.
“That I will do anything for this family. You don’t like headquarters? Then I’ll get us a damn house. I’ll work a nine to five punching a clock like a regular slob. I’ll come home every night if it means we’re together. Anything, Del. You tell me what you and that kid needs and it’s yours.”
She pauses, her lip quivering. Her hand runs through my hair before pulling herself into my chest. “The only thing in this world I need is you. And the only thing this baby needs is its daddy.”