Chapter 12
Marley
Things were going well. Too well. I should’ve known that something would come along to screw it all up. I couldn’t have imagined being any happier and never thought that one conversation with my father would rip it all away—but it did.
I’d stopped by the house to grab a change of clothes and pick up some documents for work. I was just about to leave when Dad called me into the kitchen. He was sitting at the table with a serious look on his face when he announced, “We need to talk.”
“Sorry, I can’t right now. I’ve got to get to the office. Can this wait ‘til later?”
“No, Marley Jo. This can’t wait,” he clipped. “Come sit down.”
His tone caused a cold chill to run down my spine, reminding me of the times when I was younger and about to get in trouble. That daunting feeling of not knowing what was going to happen next had always been agonizing, but I could tell by the sound of his voice that this was going to be bad. I just didn’t know how bad it really was. My chest grew tight as I sat down next to him and asked, “What’s going on?”
He slid a thick, manila folder emblazoned with the sheriff’s department’s seal over to me. “I want you to take a look at this.”
Apprehensively, I eased the folder open. My blood ran cold as I saw a picture of a man with a bullet wound to his chest, covered in blood. I quickly pushed it back over to my father and asked, “What is that?”
Forcing it toward me, he growled, “No… You need to look at it.”
I opened the folder once again and started sifting through the large stack of photographs, each murder scene more horrific than the last. Various bodies were sprawled out on the ground with blood pooling around them. As sheriff, he’d seen thousands of crime scene photos, but I couldn’t imagine why he wanted me to see these in particular. This was stuff he never shared, so I asked again, “What is all this? Why is it so important that I see this?”
“Every murder in that folder was done by one of the members of the Satan’s Fury Motorcycle Club.” He paused long enough for his words to soak in. “I believe your friend, Evan Abrams, is a member of that club. Correct?”
I let out a deep breath, knowing there was no use denying it, and answered, “Yes, he is a member of Satan’s Fury, but…”
He took the photographs from the folder and fanned them out across the table. “Six murders in the last three years.”
“No. That can’t be right. I’ve met these men. I know they aren’t angels, but they aren’t cold-blooded murderers.”
“You’re wrong. These men go to war and think nothing of killing anyone who stands in their way.”
“There has to be some explanation. I don’t believe any of them, especially Evan, would be so malicious.” I couldn’t find the right words. It was all happening too fast. I didn’t want to believe what he was saying, and I knew in my heart that there was more to the story. I’d never really know what happened in those pictures, but in my heart, I knew that Smokey wasn’t a murderer. “Besides, if you had proof, any real proof whatsoever, then you would’ve already arrested them. You’d do whatever it took to shut the club down, but you haven’t been able to prove anything.”
“They’ve been lucky. They always find a way to slip through our fingers and cover their tracks. Just because they haven’t been caught doesn’t mean they aren’t guilty of the crimes. The only reason I’ve tolerated their presence within my county is that they keep other criminals, worse criminals, at bay. They keep the heavy drugs out of my town, but I have no respect for these thugs. At the end of the day, they are who they are.”
When I didn’t respond, he continued, “You gotta ask yourself, do you believe without a doubt that these men had nothing to do with these murders? That they aren’t criminals in their own right? You believe, deep down in your gut, that these men are truly innocent? Look at all this evidence, Marly Jo!”
There was no way I could know that for certain. I knew there was illegal activity going on at the club. Smokey had never said the words, but I knew they had their secrets and they’d die to protect them. I knew that it was possible that they’d killed the men in the pictures, but I still couldn’t see them as murderers. When I was at the club, I saw how they were with each other. They were a family, and they treated me like I was one of their own. I felt safe there with them, and in some ridiculous way, I felt like I belonged. It broke my heart to say, “I don’t know… I don’t know if they are innocent, but I’m not going to judge them for things I know nothing about.”
He slammed his fist on the table and shouted, “You’re a lawyer, for Christ’s sake! You’re supposed to uphold the law, not roll around in the sack with a murderer!”
I held up my hand as I barked, “Stop! That’s not what I meant. Of course, I care about the law! That has more to do with you than my law degree. I know how hard you work—”
“Then how in the hell could you get involved with a man like this?”
“I don’t know… but I did. And I love him, Dad. I really love him.”
Anger rolled off of him as he stood up and started pacing around the kitchen. His voice was low and strained as he started, “When I lost your mother, I thought it would be the end of me. I couldn’t imagine waking up every day without seeing her face first thing when I got out of bed. The day we buried her, a part of me was buried right along with her. I can’t do that again, Marley Jo. I just can’t. If something happened to you, I just couldn’t take it.”
“Nothing is going to happen to me, Dad. There’s no way he’d ever let anything happen to me.”
He clenched his fists at his sides and yelled, “No!”
“Dad… stop. Please just listen to me. You don’t know—”
“I love you, Marley. The day you were born and I held you in my arms for the first time… I knew right then that you were special. When you were little, you’d run over to me and jump up in my arms to tell me you loved me,” he said as he started to cry. “I’ve never known joy like that.”
“Daddy,” I said softly as I stood up and walked over to him.
“I want you to have it all, Marley Jo. A beautiful house with a swing on the front porch. The white picket fence. Children. And most of all, a man who will love you enough to put you above everything else… everything. A man who will keep you safe and love you… and cherish you. Anything less than that just won’t do.”
“I can have all of that with Evan.”
He glared at me as he snapped, “Don’t be such a damn fool!”
“I don’t know what you want me to say here!”
“Say you will end it with this man! Say you are done with him and you’ll never see him again!”
“I can’t do that. I just can’t!” I cried. “I love him. Can’t you see that?”
“All I see is my wonderful daughter taking her life and throwing it all away… and I won’t have it. I won’t let that happen.”
“You can’t stop me from seeing him.”
He took a step closer, just inches from my face. “The hell I can’t,” he growled. “If you don’t stop seeing him, I will call in a full investigation of that club. I’ll call in every favor. Every promise. Whatever it takes to bring that club down right along with that boyfriend of yours. I’ll put him, along with every man in that club, behind bars and make sure none of them will ever see the light of day again! Then I’ll know for certain you’ll never see him again. You have my word on that!”
“You can’t do this!” I shouted as panic surged through me. The very thought of Smokey in jail terrified me.
“I can and I will. You are my daughter. It’s my job to make sure that you’re safe. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you that way, even if it means going to war with this motorcycle club. And let me assure you… I will win the war.”
Seeing the determination in his eyes scared me. I knew he meant every word, and if I didn’t go along with him, Smokey would stand to lose everything—his freedom, the club, and the farm. His entire life would be ripped away from him, and I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t take that chance. I loved him too much. Accepting my fate, I asked, “What exactly do you want me to do?”
“I want you out of here… away from this guy, tonight. I already called your office and talked to Tom. He said there’s an opening at the firm in Tacoma. I want you to go there. Stay with your Aunt Miranda until you can get a place of your own. It’s a chance for you to start over.”
“And if I do this, you will leave Evan and his club alone?” I didn’t want to go to Tacoma. And I certainly didn’t want to move in with my crazy Aunt Miranda. The selfish side of me wanted to tell him no, that there was no way I’d ever let Smokey go, but there was no way I could stay and risk him going to jail. I just couldn’t. When he didn’t answer, I shouted, “If I do this, will you leave him alone?”
“I will.”
“I have your word on that?”
“You have my word,” he promised.
“Then, I’ll go,” I told him as tears streamed down my face.
“I’ll call Miranda and let her know you’ll be there tonight.”
I nodded and turned to leave, but stopped when he said, “Marley?”
“What?”
“You’ll thank me for this one day.”
“No, I know I’ll never thank you for this. I just hope one day I’ll be able to forgive you for it,” I sobbed as I rushed out of the room and ran upstairs. I closed the door behind me and with my back against it, I slid down to the floor. I dropped my head in my hands and continued to sob. Each time I closed my eyes, Smokey was there, staring right back at me. I felt like my heart was being shredded into nothing, ripped apart piece by piece, only to be left to rot in the trash. My entire body ached, making me wish I’d never met him. Then I wouldn’t have to miss the crooked curve of his lips when he smiled. The spark in his eyes when he laughed. How safe I felt wrapped in his arms. The way he looked at me like I was the only person in the room, like he loved me. His kiss. His smell. His hands. How could I make it just one day without seeing him, touching him, loving him? I didn’t think I could bear it. I loved him too much.
I finally forced myself up off the floor and made myself start packing. The sooner I was gone, the sooner I could be assured that Dad wouldn’t do anything to hurt Smokey. I was crying so hard I could barely breathe as I started throwing clothes into my duffel bag.
Hearing my cries, Brandon charged in and asked, “What the hell is going on?” Without answering, I walked over to him and laid my head on his chest while I continued to cry. His arms wrapped around me as he hugged me tightly and whispered, “Marley… you gotta tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this,” I bawled.
“Do what?”
“He’s demanding that I stop seeing Smokey. He wants me to move to Tacoma with Aunt Miranda, and if I don’t, he’s going after him. He’ll find a way to put him in jail—no matter what it takes—if I don’t leave.”
“Damn… Aunt Miranda? Really? I knew he was pissed, but I didn’t think he’d take it this far.”
“How am I supposed to just leave here? How am I supposed to just forget about him? He’s everything to me. I can’t spend the rest of my life without him. I’m not strong enough for that.”
“You’ve gotta stop. Just get through this now, and in time, things will be different. Maybe it will work out better than you think.”
“I don’t know.” I looked up at him and sniffled, “I’m scared.”
“I know, but you’re tough, sis. You can get through this. Just take it one day at a time,” he assured me. “For now, you’ve got to pull yourself together.”
“Thanks, Brandon,” I told him as I reached into the closet for more clothes.
“Marley Jo…” he started. He stepped over to me and placed his hands on my shoulders as he tried to convince me, “He’s only doing it because he loves you. You know that.”
“Maybe so, but it sure doesn’t feel like it.”
Before I left for Tacoma, I drove out to the farm and left Smokey a note, letting him know that I was leaving. It wasn’t easy. Just standing on the front porch weakened my resolve, and I almost stayed. I wanted to think that I could explain everything to him, persuade him to leave the club, but I knew in my heart I couldn’t do that to him. I wouldn’t make him choose between me and the club like his father had done. He was happy with the club, and things were going so well for him. I couldn’t be the one that took that away from him, so I tucked the letter inside the crack of the door and rushed back to my car before he even knew I was there.
I spent the next few hours trying to see through my tears as I drove to Tacoma. Luckily, it wasn’t too far. After four hours of driving, I pulled up into Aunt Miranda’s driveway. Other than a few extra gnomes scattered along the front walk and several overgrown shrubs, her little house hadn’t changed a bit in the last year. The yellow paint was still peeling, and the porch was still covered in wind chimes. My aunt was on the eclectic side, inside and out. When Brandon and I were kids, we’d spend hours sorting through all of her different collections—from yard gnomes to snow globes, she had them all. Thankfully, she lived alone and her house was fairly large. I wouldn’t have to worry about being in her way.
When I got out of the car, I grabbed my large duffel bag and headed for the front door. I had to knock several times before I heard a loud commotion followed by my aunt shouting, “I’ll be right there.” Seconds later, the door flew open and I was presented with my Aunt Miranda. She was wearing a worn-out pair of denim overalls with a bright red plaid shirt underneath and one of Uncle Rick’s old fishing hats. She smiled and opened her arms wide as she rushed over to me and yelled, “Heavens to Betsy, child. I am so tickled to see you!” She hugged me tightly and continued shouting, “I’ve got your room all ready for you. We’re going to have us a glorious time!”
I finally managed to pull free from her embrace and said, “Thanks for letting me stay with you, Aunt Miranda. It was really sweet of you.”
“I am just so pleased to have you. I can’t tell you the last time someone came to see me. Since your uncle died, I just sit here all by myself, day in and day out, but I’m making out alright, I guess. I like tending to things my way. Don’t need anyone telling me what to do,” she laughed. “Now, let’s get you all settled and I’ll make us some dinner.”
I followed her through the door and down the hall, and once she’d opened the door to my room, I told her, “Don’t go to any trouble for dinner. I’m really tired. I think I’ll just go to bed if that’s okay with you.”
It didn’t take much convincing. She could tell by my puffy, red eyes that I was in no mood for a visit, so she gave me a quick hug and replied, “Of course, sweetheart. Get some rest and I’ll see you in the morning. Just let me know if you need anything.”
“I will,” I smiled.
I shut the door and dropped my bags to the floor. I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of the world crashing down around me as I crawled into the bed. Pulling the old, handmade quilt over my head, I rolled to my side, letting the tears roll freely down my cheeks. I closed my eyes and tried to think about my options, but quickly realized there were none.
I could continue to see Smokey and pray that my father wouldn’t make good on his threats, but I knew him too well. The fact was if he decided to go after Smokey and the club, there would be no stopping him. He’d put them behind bars and wouldn’t give it a second thought. I couldn’t take that chance. I could talk to Smokey about leaving the club, but deep down I knew I could never do that. His brothers meant the world to him, and even if I did manage to talk him into leaving the club, he’d only end up resenting me for it later. I couldn’t do it. When it came down to it, everything depended on my father. He was my only option, and sadly, I knew there would be no getting through to him—not this time. I’d seen the look of determination in his eyes when he told me to stay away from Smokey. There was no way he’d ever change his mind, so I was left with no option. I had to see this thing through. I had to try to find a way to let Smokey go.
I reached into my bag for my phone and looked down at it, staring intently at the blank screen. Before I lost the courage, I pulled up Smokey’s name in my contacts and blocked his number. Then, after several deep, agonizing breaths, I deleted his number completely from my phone. It was done. There was no turning back. My life as I had known it would never be the same. I tried to tell myself that I just had to get through the night, that everything would be better in the morning, but I knew it wasn’t true. I would be just as heartbroken tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. So I just lay there and cried, accepting my fate for what it was. I cried, and then cried some more. I cried until I finally drifted off to sleep, only to cry even more as I dreamt of Smokey.