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Burning Rubber by Becky Rivers, Dez Burke (92)


 

 

 

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“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” Jesse asks. “Or something to eat? It’s going to be a few more hours before Ty is out of surgery, and you can’t go that long without eating. I’m worried about how you’re holding up.”

I shake my head, feeling numb. There’s no way I can think about food right now. Not with Ty on an operating table, fighting for his life.

“I’m not hungry,” I say.

I scoot closer to Jesse and put my head on his shoulder. Luckily, the hospital’s waiting room is almost empty and we were able to grab a small sofa to sit on instead of the hard metal chairs.

“Rest your eyes,” he says, reaching an arm around me and tucking me into his shoulder. “You must be tired. I’ll let you know if the doctor walks in or if there’s any news.”

“I won’t be able to sleep. I keep thinking, what if Ty doesn’t make it? I can’t believe this is happening. This is all my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” Jesse says adamantly. “Why do you think that?”

“If I hadn’t created such a mess by walking out on Big Roy, then Ty wouldn’t have had any reason to come to the bar looking for me. He was probably there to try to talk me into coming back with the Liberators. I can’t think of any other reason why he would show up. He’s on an operating table with a big hole in his gut because of me.”

Jesse sighs and stretches out his long legs in front of him.

“Trish, you can’t blame yourself. It’s crazy to think that way. Who do you think threw the Molotov cocktails through the windows and started the fire? The Liberators, that’s who. It’s their calling card. They did the same thing to our tattoo shop about six months ago.”

“What are you saying?”

“We shouldn’t be discussing this right now. It isn’t the place or the time. You have enough on your mind as it is.”

I sit up straighter and turn to look at him.

“No, I want to know. What did you mean their calling card?”

“The Liberators knew we were all inside the bar for Flint’s party. Sam has been running his mouth off about it to different biker clubs all week. Maybe he said something to someone he shouldn’t. Or the word could have just gotten out. Bikers like to talk among themselves as much as gossipy old women sometimes.”

“Are you saying the Liberators were going after the Steel Infidels tonight?”

“Not so much going after us. More like letting us know the feud between the clubs is back on full force again. Not that we ever thought it wasn’t. It was a signal that they could get to us whenever they wanted. And as a more personal threat, that they could get to you as well. That’s why they hit the bar and not our hotel. Big Roy and the Liberators like to make big, showy statements. It was an added bonus to them that all of the other biker clubs were in the bar, too. Think of it as the Liberators hanging up a ‘now open for business’ sign for everyone to see.”

I rub my forehead where a headache is starting to form.

“Ty wouldn’t do something like that. Not if he knew I was inside the bar. Or even if I wasn’t. What if the fire had spread? People could have been trapped inside. Me, too. Thank God the security guards knew where the fire extinguishers were and how to use them quickly. It scares me to think how badly it could have turned out.”

Jesse doesn’t argue with me. He clearly believes Ty is involved. Well, I’m his sister and I know better. My brother has his faults. That doesn’t mean he would be willing to kill people or set a building on fire.

“Do you mind if I go down the hall to grab some coffee out of the machine?” Jesse asks. “I’ll bring one back for you too. You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want it.”

“Thanks. A hot chocolate would be good.”

Not really, but I know Jesse needs to walk around for a minute and stretch his muscles. We’ve been sitting here waiting a long time, and he hasn’t left my side.

While he’s gone, I open the bag of Ty’s belongings the nurse handed me before they took him into surgery. I check the pockets of his leather jacket and pull out his cell phone. When my hands hits something cold and metallic in the other pocket, I slide my hand back out carefully. It feels like a gun and I don’t want to touch it.

I flip open Ty’s cell phone. He would be furious if he knew I was prowling through his stuff. I idly scan through his text messages. There aren’t too many of them, mostly back and forth with me. The Liberators aren’t big on technology.

I start to close his phone when I notice the date of my last text message to him. Yesterday’s date. That’s weird. That would have been after we had the big fight at the bar and after I lost my phone. How can that be?

I open the message to read it.

“I’m sorry. Meet me tonight after work?” it says.

I don’t understand. Why would there be a fake message from me to Ty asking to meet him after work? Who could possibly have something to gain by pretending to be me?

I check the time on the message. Not more than five minutes after Jesse dropped me off at work yesterday.

It was Jesse.

It had to be him. Nothing else makes any sense.

He must have swiped my phone during our ride along the coast. I think back to when he would have had a chance to do it. Since I noticed the phone was missing in the restaurant, he would have taken it before.

I remember his impulsive gift and the spontaneous hug at the art festival in Seaside when he bought the earrings for me. How easy it must have been to slip a hand inside my purse and pull out my phone without me noticing. 

Blood rushes to my face and I want to throw up.

Everything is a big lie.

Every word Jesse said to me, every sweet whisper in my ear, every soft caress on my hair. All lies of one form or the other.

He’s been playing me the entire time. He is still playing me even now. Acting all concerned about my welfare, and about my brother, who I know for a fact he hates.

I wonder if he knew who I was the first time he walked up to me at the bar and ordered a beer.

Who am I kidding? Of course he did.

Why else would he have stepped in with Ty to take up for me? It was all part of some big Steel Infidels vs. Liberators revenge plan. Everything else was probably just icing on the cake to him. A big game. No wonder he never mentioned a relationship beyond this week.

God! I feel so stupid and naïve. And most of all used.

The things we did together and the intimate sexual moments we shared. Thinking about it now makes me want to crawl away into a hole and hide. And to think I really cared about him and desperately wanted something more. I knew better than to get my hopes up, and I did it anyway.

“Here’s your hot chocolate,” Jesse says suddenly, settling back down beside me on the sofa.

I’m so upset that I didn’t even notice when he walked back into the waiting room. I take the cup from him without speaking.

“Any news?” he asks. “You look upset. I’m sorry it took so long. The damn machine kept spitting back out my dollar bills.”

“Can I have my cell phone back now?”

He glances over at me sharply, and I can tell from the surprised look on his face that he knows he is caught. His gaze drops to Ty’s cell phone in my hand. I hold up the phone for him to read the message he sent to Ty while pretending to be me.

“Trish…” he begins before I hold up my hand to interrupt him.

“I don’t want to hear whatever lie it is you’re getting ready to tell me right now,” I say. “All I want is for you to give me my cell phone back and for you to get the hell out of my sight.”

“Fuck!” He runs a hand through his black hair. “Trish, let me explain.”

“What can you possibly say that will make me feel better? Let’s lay out the facts here.”

I hold up my fingers to count off his bad deeds.

“You lied to me, you stole my phone, you set up my brother, and the end result is that you almost got him killed. And if that’s not bad enough, you let me think it was all my fault.”

“No, I didn’t! I told you it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, but you sure as hell didn’t say it was yours. I realized after reading the text message that you purposely lured Ty to the bar. He went there thinking he was supposed to meet me. You made him believe that I needed him. And he showed up. And as a result, he got shot. How am I supposed to forgive that, Jesse? You tell me.”

He leans back and rubs his tired eyes.

“You’re right, okay. Yes, I stole your phone and I lied to you. I’m sorry. And I sent him a text asking him to meet you. Only so we could put a tail on him back to Big Roy and the rest of the Liberators. This was always about more than your brother. I never meant for you to get hurt.”

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out my cell phone. Without saying a word, he hands it back to me. I take the phone and drop it into my purse.

“So you admit it then?”

“I’ll admit what I did, and that’s all I’m admitting to. If you’ll read the text again, the meet up was supposed to be for last night, not tonight. Ty didn’t come to the bar to see you. Not unless he normally runs a full twenty-four hours late. The only reason he was there tonight was to create mayhem with the Liberators.”

Jesse is still lying to me. I shake my head in disbelief.

“Why do you think the security guards shot him?” he says. “Because he was the one who threw the damn Molotov cocktails through the window! Your brother doesn’t give a shit about you and the sooner you realize that, the better off you will be.”

“I would like you to leave now.”

“Damn it, Trish! You’re not giving me a chance here. When it comes to your brother, you are so fucking blind. Why is that? Help me understand. I can’t get through to you, and it’s driving me insane. You’re throwing everything away for nothing. He’s not worth it.”

“If you don’t stand up and walk out that door right now, I’m calling security.”

He gives me a shocked look.

“And say what?”

“That you’re threatening me. Don’t think for one second that I won’t do it.”

He reaches for my hand and I jerk it out of his reach.

“This isn’t over,” he says quietly.

“You’re right. It isn’t over, because nothing real ever started in the first place. Now please, just go!”

I bury my face in Ty’s leather jacket and will myself not to cry.

“I’ll drop your stuff off at the bar unless you want me to bring it here,” he says.

“I don’t.”

“Fuck!” Jesse swears one last time before standing up and walking out of the hospital. 

I don’t look up because I can’t bear to watch him walk out of my life for good.