CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

“Put a ring on it, brother.” – Rider

 

 

 

Death was the ugliest act, the most calamitous emotion. It didn’t announce itself, just came and swept through the building like a fucking detonating bomb, leaving rubble in its wake. Through the long airport walk, the quiet cab ride, and then the fast-paced sprint through the hospital where the kid was being kept, Preacher kept an eye on Ruby, she was wound so tight it was a miracle she was upright. Death had ravaged her, but he knew she didn’t truly believe it, not really. With death, you had to see it with your own eyes or a flicker of disbelief and hope crept in, whispered it wasn’t true, it was all a mistake, it was someone who looked like your loved one and they’d made a horrible switch up.

He was there to hold her up. She was going to crash anytime soon. He knew it. He knew first-hand how like clockwork this shit went. Preacher wished he could take this from her, bring it into his own gut so Ruby wasn’t feeling any of it.

And to just prove what a piece of wasted shit her family really were, she’d called an aunt and uncle who lived here in Nebraska, to tell them the news and Ruby was quickly told they had no money for the funeral. What fucking stand up people. He wanted to hunt those motherfuckers down and tell them they didn’t deserve a person like Ruby.

Preacher had had his suspicions for hours now. It was all too convenient, Ruby receives a text from her sister giving up the kid, only to turn up dead an hour later. What are the odds on that being a coincidence?

He wasn’t even thinking suicide. But he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to upset Ruby further, but all became clear when the cop in charge, one Detective Kane, met them at the hospital outside of the kid’s room. Not much of a fan for the law but the first mistake Kane made not allowing Ruby to go in to see the boy. Preacher held his tongue to let the guy talk.

He went on to explain the fire was contained to the bedroom and a lot of drug paraphernalia was found by the body. Preacher cupped the back of Ruby’s nape, his old lady was shaking barely keeping it together. It was only as the cop went on to tell her how the neighbors had kicked in the door and found Sebastian outside the mom’s bedroom door that Ruby grabbed onto his shirt front, she swayed and made a muffled distressed noise he’d remember forever. Wrapping his arm around her Preacher took over asking the questions after that while she cried into his chest.

Foul play.

That’s what the cop said. The fire had started sometime around three AM.

“That can’t be.” Ruby gasped. “She texted me at four AM.” Sure enough she showed the cop her phone.

Preacher got that gut feeling again as he watched the cop’s eyes. Oh yeah, that fucker was thinking the same damn thing he was.

And the boyfriend was nowhere to be found. Join the dots.

They had the happy trip to the morgue next to formally identify Rita’s body, but before that Ruby needed to see the kid. The cop left them.

Preacher turned fully towards her, cupped her cheeks, her eyes were red and puffy, watching her put herself together before they went into his room.

“How are you holding up, beautiful?”

“I just want to see him.” Taking a long breath, his lady put on her mask. So, strong, his ribs ached for her. “It’s like a nightmare, Preacher. I’m waiting to wake up. You can go to the motel if you want.”

Tipping up her chin with his thumbs he leaned down and rubbed his nose on hers. “Not leaving you, baby. Let’s go see the kid.”

 

 

 

******

 

Asher Priest age: 20.

 

 

"Come on, old man, keep up." Teased Asher, running ahead of his brother. Legs pumping as hard as he could, he was sweating, his T-shirt sticking to his honed body, he chanced looking behind him and saw Shane coming up on his right side. Cursing, Asher took off. When they both eventually stopped, they were panting, Asher bent over at the waist resting his hands on his thighs, thinking about puking right here, sweat pouring out of him.

He'd never been fitter.

And he felt like he was about to die.

Pushing himself just to keep up with Shane was a full-time job. His older brother excelled at everything, including the drill course at the Fort Carson army base in Colorado where the brothers were stationed.

But today, fuck yeah, he'd outrun and out-did that crazy bastard. Asher might be a minute away from puking to death but he'd fucking won for once.

Death was worth it. He fell to his knees heaving in air. Shane joined him, a smile on his face.

"Less of the old, dickhead. I only have a few years on you."

When they could rise from the dry dusty ground Shane helped to haul Asher up, they pounded each other's back in celebratory victory and flung arms around their shoulders strolling off to grab something to eat from the canteen.

Asher had been jittery for days, the excuse to burn off energy today by taking the course with a maniac's determination. They were being shipped out this week for their first tour. He didn't mind admitting he was shitting bricks over it. It would be the first time he was out of the country and so far away from his family. His mom had never stopped crying and he felt guilty over that, if not for him she'd still have Shane at home, but captain-hair needed to tag along to make sure Asher didn't get into trouble. Like they thought he was gonna go ballistic with a gun in his hand.

He stole one dirt bike when he was twelve and now he was smeared for life. Go figure.

Asher had grown up privileged, as in he had a good family that wasn't perfect by any normal standard but they loved each other, he learned a solid work ethic from the man walking at his side and he learned how to do every household chore from his batty mom, she was a pistol in an apron and he was going to miss going home most weekends for her famous Sunday macaroni and biscuits, carb-overload for sure. He wondered briefly what food they'd get over there, would the heat knock him out? Was it as dangerous as he read about? He felt prepared and scared shitless at the same time.

All he could do was his best.

He wanted a career, he was shit with school work, all of it jumbled up on the page until he got so frustrated he wanted to punch textbooks into a bonfire, yet put something practical in front of him and Asher got it done.

"You scared, bro?" He asked casting a side glance at his brother who was drying himself off with a towel. They both had the same color hair and eyes, but Shane was somewhat taller, slightly wider on the shoulders. Asher had been going to the gym on base more often, he wanted to bulk up, to get leaner and fitter.

"Sure am." That's what he loved about Shane, he never bullshitted. Asher grinned and slapped him on the back.

"I'll look out for you, old man, just hide behind me."

"You're so full of crap." He laughed. "We're Priests. We take care of each other, Ash, you remember that, always, we got each other's backs.  But make sure I'm behind you if your gun goes apeshit, yeah? Don't wanna get hit by a stray bullet, I got babies to make when I get home."

Asher smiled. His brother was already counting down the days to when his commitment to the army was over and they'd barely been here two years, this was their first tour overseas.

Whereas Asher, despite his fear of the unknown ahead of him, loved army life, he had no desire for a family of his own, or people to tie him down to a desk job and mortgage, he'd rather run with danger than being part of the monotonous population.

"Kids?" Asher's chest squeezed even as he laughed. "Seeing Tyler piss on the floor isn't enough to put you off that?"

Having a little brother that wasn't even in school yet was a hard lesson in what Asher didn't want to see in his future. Kids were little pissing and shitting aliens who took away your freedom. Sure, he loved the brat and was always taking him toys when he could get home for the weekend, but as for having a brood of his own... thanks but nah.

"Wait until you grow some proper facial hair instead of that babyface fuzz, bro." chuckled Shane grabbing Asher by the face. "Then you'll be mature enough to know you want kids one day. Just wait, it'll happen."

"Fuck off, bonehead. I can grow a beard if I want one!"

"Sure, you can." Shane didn't sound convinced, what with the way he grinned at Asher who flipped him off. "Come on, speaking of the pissy one, we can grab that toy fire truck he wanted, we’ll take it home tomorrow. Ma will want to see my pretty face before we ship out. Yours, too, I suppose." He hooked an arm around Asher's neck.

"Don't care what you say. I'll leave you to shoot out the kids. And I ain't babysitting, I'll be the uncle that stands waaaaaaay over there and throws peanuts at the cages. Do kids live in cages?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

******

 

 

Present Day

 

The first look Preacher got of Sebastian the whole room shifted under his feet until he thought the hospital was experiencing an earthquake. Ruby had let go of his hand rushing across the single-bed room where the kid was sat on the end of it, his legs dangling over the edge, crushing him to her chest, clutching him gently, her cries were something that tore down to the heart and stayed there. He came into the room much slower, the woman in the corner sat with her purse on her lap looked over at him warily. She introduced herself as a social worker.

It was the kid who had his attention.

Four years old, dressed in a pair of what used to be blue pajamas, now covered in smoke damage, same for his face and hair. He had one of those bowl-cuts, old fashioned for a kid his age but made him cute as fuck, but his face … fuck … every muscle in Preacher’s body tensed with pain, his belly rolling over and his heart just went into freefall.

That little fucking face about killed Preacher to the point he wanted to go down to his knees and bawl his goddamn eyes out. He’d never seen such a sad little kid before.

He wanted to bring him the moon just to make him happy.

And so, quiet. He barely even reacted when Ruby grabbed him in a hug kissing his face, she was holding his cheeks, running a hand through his hair checking he was okay, reassuring herself the kid was alive, and still, he barely reacted.

Shock, most probably, but from what Ruby had told Preacher, this was his normal state, beat down by the shitty life with a shitty parent, it was almost as if the kid was resigned to badness, like it was no big fucking deal he’d just nearly died in a house fire, no big deal he was four years old in a hospital he didn’t know with only the company of a social worker who looked like she chewed wasps for fun.

For motherfucker's sake, the kid broke Preacher’s ribcage wide open. He cleared his throat and ran a hand down his beard, up and down, and back again.

“Auntie Ruby is here now, my love,” she told him then turned to the social worker. “I can look after him when they sign him out of here, I can take him.”

Oh, baby.

He was willing to back her up with anything she needed to deal with this shitstorm, but he could already see on the wasp-chewers face it was not going to be as easy as saying she wanted the kid. “Hello, I’m Jacklyn Denton, the temporary guardian of Sebastian, we were told you were coming. I’m sorry, miss---?”

“Steele. Ruby Steele. I’m his aunt. Rita is my sister. I’m all the family he has.” As upset as she was, Preacher heard the true iron in her voice. That’s my girl. Preacher moved himself further into the room and two little brown eyes came up and at him, still, the boy didn’t twitch a muscle.

Jesus, kid, killing me. Preacher smiled at him and approached gradually before lowering his height by going down on his haunches by the bed. Small legs dangling over the end, he wasn’t even wearing footwear for fuck's sake. Preacher’s heart thumped.

“Hey, little man.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Steele, but until we have the full story, Sebastian has to be taken care of by the state. His father----”

“Is a waste of fresh air,” Ruby whispered harshly. “He’s not even here when his son in the hospital.”

“Sebastian’s well-being is our priority, Miss Steele, I promise.”

“Yes, and he’s mine, too.” Ruby deflated right in front of him, sitting on the side of the bed she lifted the kid onto her lap, he allowed it but didn’t seem to know what to do with the affection.

“This is my friend, Seb. Do you want to say hello to Preacher?”

The kid made his first normal kid move and burrowed his face shyly into Ruby’s tits. Preacher grinned, he’d be there if he could too. “He’s nice, he just looks like a grizzly bear, doesn’t he?” She staged whispered to him. Sebastian took a small peek at Preacher and burrowed back in.

He rose, addressed the social worker. “Is there anything we can be doing, Ms Denton? As you can understand this is a difficult time for Ruby, she only wants the best for Sebastian. So, whatever we can do to make this go as smoothly as it can, we’ll do.”

“For right now, it’s all about making sure Sebastian is taken care of, health wise, the doctor wants to keep him in overnight and tomorrow, if we can’t locate his father.” Fat chance, lady. Not if that fuckwit started that fire. “Then he will be temporarily placed with foster carers.”

“What? But I am here.” Ruby insisted. “I’m his family.”

“Of course, Miss Steele, every circumstance will be made to ensure the best suitable placement for Sebastian.”

It sounded like wasp-chewer was blowing smoke up his old lady’s ass and from the look of fire in Ruby’s eyes, she was ten seconds away from erupting. He stepped forward, took her hand, gave it a little squeeze. “That’s fine. Please keep in mind Ruby is more than willing to take the boy. She’ll be staying here with him tonight.” He didn’t pose it as a question. There was no way Ruby would be leaving and he’d level the hospital to the ground to see that she got what she wanted. She smiled at him gratefully. He dropped a kiss to her forehead. “I’m going to go and grab you some coffee, beautiful, you need food. What can I bring the little man?”

It was way past his bedtime, all their bedtimes, Ruby was running on fumes.

“Maybe some juice. You want some OJ, Seb?” Cuddled into Ruby he nodded sneaking glances at Preacher.

Jesus. This kid was killing him. He’d never seen such a somber tiny human in his life. He had a want to make him laugh, to bring him every goddamn toy he could find just to see him smile, to have the kid see someone cared for him.

Kissing her forehead again, he stroked Ruby’s hair briefly. “I won’t be long, baby. I have my cell.”

Once he was outside the room, he searched the signs for directions to somewhere he could buy coffee, and he fished out his phone, hitting a number.

It rang and rang and then. “Hello? This better be fuckin’ good.” A sleep timbered Rider answered.

“It is, Prez. Sorry if I disturbed Zara.” Best to start on the right foot with the president and his girl was his Achilles heel, something Preacher was fast understanding, what with him jonesing out right now for leaving Ruby alone when all he wanted to do was rush back into that hospital room, grab her and the kid and take them somewhere secure.

The smell of antiseptic was strong in his nose. The distinct scent telling him he was walking the hallways among the diseased and dead. He hated hospitals, he’d seen enough military doctors to last a lifetime. Ignoring a lingering hungry look from a nurse walking by who did a double-take when she saw Preacher. Six months ago, he would have talked his way under her little uniform, now he felt nothing for that fast sex chase.  

“Zara is sleepin’, lucky for you. What’s up, Preacher? Lawless said you took a trip out of town.”

He quickly relayed the situation. “Your girl okay?”

“She’s holding on by a thread. I need a favor, Prez. Do we still have Archie on retainer?” He was the club lawyer. A little bit crooked balancing a fine line of what he construed of the law but the Colorado-born guy could work miracles when they found themselves in hot water. Invaluable to any MC.

“Yeah. You thinkin’ you need him?”

“Not sure, yet. But I'd like his input to see where she stands legally. I don’t think the state is gonna let Ruby have him, I got a bad feeling from the social worker. And if it turns out the douchebag has killed her sister, not sure how it’ll go for the boy. As it stands now, the social worker is talking foster care. I can’t let that happen, Rider. It will kill Ruby.”

“Let me make a call and get that asshole out of bed. If we’re all awake then he should be too, it's what we pay a retainer for. Expect his call in a few, brother. Is there anythin’ else we can do on this end?” The instant offer of help from his president went some way into calming Preacher's nerves.

“Not sure, honestly, it’s not a situation I’ve been in before. The fucking kid, Rider, the fucking kid.” He had to take a long breath before his voice cracked. He kept on walking, he needed a task to do, to keep his head busy and steady to be a support she’d need, and bringing Ruby food was it. “He’s this sad little thing, it killed me, I don’t mind admitting. I gotta get him for Ruby.”

“I get it, brother.” And Rider did, Preacher had seen him last year, when Zara came back into his life, how his priorities had shifted slightly towards getting revenge for his old lady.

Preacher got it now. He totally fucking understood that single-mindedness of shielding your woman against the big-bad world from any hurt that might drip its nastiness on her shoes. Preacher was feeling it under his sternum, that steadfast superhero thump of needing to protect what belonged to him. He was crazy enough to do anything.

“She’s a single woman who works in a bar and a motorcycle club. It doesn’t favor well, Ri. I need Archie to … hell, I don’t know, advise, or work his magic on this, so we’re prepared for the worst.”

Rider agreed and told him to stand by for a call from their law-man if anyone knew how to bend the law to his advantage it was Archie. 

“You know, you could always marry her.” He offered down the line with an amused snicker. Preacher’s lungs ceased working. “To check one of those restrictions off the list. The state looks more favorable for married people.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

His air bags inflated once more and began working as he sucked in air. But now it was his hearts turn to thump and roll around in his chest.

He went on autopilot raiding the shitty vending machine for anything edible he could find, two snickers bars, she’d need the sugar for shock, he grabbed a few bags of chips and nuts, then he poured two coffees from the station the hospital had set up. It smelled like pond water, but it was hot, he dumped in half a pound of sugar in hers.  On second thoughts, he made one for the social worker wasp lady as well, might as well get in good with her where he could.

Marry his Ruby?

Fuck.

The scary thing was, how not scared he was absorbing that. His pulse was all out of sync ‘cause he wanted it? Now he was thinking of it. He fucking wanted that more than he wanted anything.

His old lady for real by law and by the club.