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Kennedy peered over his shoulder and looked down at me. “Is this true, Marquez? Did your prospect come into my club intending to kill my men?”
The one they called Jarhead shook his head, but there was no way in hell I’d think to cover for him when he stabbed one of my men. “Sarge. We received an email from this club threatening Miss Dixon. Johnny came in here, intending to find out who emailed Nanuq. He doesn’t believe in using violence unless he’s defending himself.”
Kennedy gave me a single nod. “Jarhead! Max! Hand me your vests.” He ordered the men calmly. “I want you both to leave my bar and never think to show your faces around here. Is that understood? Or I will press charges of assault on both of you.”
As the men ran out, paramedics ran past them with a stretcher and got to work right away on Johnny. “I will fetch Johnny’s bike later. Since the prospects are my priority, I need to rush to the hospital. I walked out, stunned at how this afternoon ended up. Kennedy was so different from the day he shot Tyler, and I wondered when and how his attitude changed so drastically in two months.
It was Déjà vu, as a few of us sat in the waiting room. No matter what we did, the violence would never end with the Arklak men and their leader. Though Kennedy seemed different moments ago, this could have been avoided had he stopped the violent behavior of his men. “Do you think she’s going to be okay?” Mushu asked me and I rested my head against the wall and closed my eyes. But I thought about what he said and shot straight up.
“What did you ask me?”
“If Johnny was going to be okay,” Mushu asked as he slurped the rest of the contents from his third juice box.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I chuckled. “Don’t mind me, it’s been a day. I thought you asked ifshewas going to be okay.” It would be inappropriate if I made comments about how Johnny reminds me of a girl. This wasn’t the time for it and these were opinions I needed to keep to myself. Speaking of girls, I thought of Char and called her, yet it rang off the hook until it went to voicemail. “Hey, Char. It’s Dallas. Look–I hope you don’t think I blew you off. I've been sick the last couple of days and had no energy to call. Well, if you hear this-call me back. I want to make it up to you.”
Mushu made a call right after I did. “Hey, yeah, Bubba. It’s Mushu… yeah, my usual… extra pepperoni and cheese.”
I patted him on the arm, appalled that this guy could have shown more tact than to order a pizza when one of his brothers was down. “How can you order pizza during a time like this?”
“Can you deliver it to the urgent care?” Mushu smirked, “No, no, nothing major. Just a brawl at the Townie’s.”
He was about to say too much, and I snatched the phone out of Mushu’s hand. “Dude? What are you doing?” I clicked End on his phone. “No one needs to know our business. Is that clear?” He was saved from getting the tar beat out of him when Doctor Randall walked out, still pulling a clean scrub over his head. Not the most professional thing to do, but we all knew each other well. “Dallas?” The doctor asked, and I rose to my feet to shake his hand.
“Miss Dixon suffered some deep lacerations, and the one in her abdomen wasn’t life threatening. However, she lost a lot of blood and needed a transfusion.”
Arching my brow, I was confused and shook my head in disbelief at the name he used. “Doc Randall? Don’t you mean, Mr. Wayne?”
Doctor Randall shook his head. “After years of suturing her injuries, and breaking her arm twice. I think I’d know whether the patient I just tended to was Charlene Dixon.”
I glanced toward Mushu, who turned his head, hiding the shame I knew he had to be aware of. “Did you know about this, Mushu?” I raised my fist with the need to punch something or someone. I was furious and embarrassed that this girl easily pulled the wool over my eyes; not just my eyes, all of our eyes.
Austin “Dallas, what are you going to do about this? That girl deceived all of us and damn near got herself killed.”
I couldn’t answer him and charged outside to get air. This news was stifling and the nausea that was finally dissipated came back with full force. Rushing over to some nearby bushes, I emptied my stomach, which still gave me no relief.
“I’m sorry, Dallas.” Mushu sneaked up behind me, startling me. “I didn’t know she was going to pull this stunt until the day she showed up at the clubhouse.”
Wiping my mouth, I peered over my shoulder. “But you did nothing to discourage her from continuing this dangerous facade, did you?” I moved around Mushu. “Let Austin know I’m going for a ride. I don’t want to be bothered right now.”
This upset me to no end. The girl I thought I admired lied to all of us, for selfish reasons only. If this was about the day her father was shot, any of us would have been happy to tell her. But she risked life, limb and her dignity to pretend to be a man, in order to get answers. Those are just assumptions. Right now, I can’t even look at her to find out why. Was I foolish for being this upset? Or was this warranted? When a man spends his entire life being fed lies from his father to damn near every woman he’s dated, it becomes too much to bear. I thought Char was different. She was her father’s daughter through and through. Yet, she ended up with another disappointment I didn’t count on.
Will I forgive Char? Will her father forgive her for dishonoring him and the Nanuq Shila? Maybe overtime. But not right at this very moment. I needed to cool off, then reconsider whether or not I wanted to pursue her.
EIGHTEEN
CHAR
It had been a month since the assault by the Aklark men and my father was released to come home. It’s a relief to have the hospice nurse living with us, for I couldn’t do half of what she does. Of course, I probably could if I wasn’t recuperating myself and I was not fully healed.
After my father was home for one day and trying to get his bearings, he found moving around our small home in a wheelchair was a challenge. Yet, he never gave up and learned to maneuver, though he spent more time in front of the television and looking for a larger home we could move into. “What do you think about moving up to Anchorage, Char? I found an enormous house next to the water that I could have renovated to fit my needs.”
“That would work, Dad!” I responded with no emotion. I was still salty from getting my ass chewed sideways yesterday for the stunt I pulled in my attempt to seek retribution. That was my father’s understanding and there was no convincing him it was to seek peace between both clubs. It also didn’t help that my dreams were put on hold for another year because of my injuries.
To add to all of this, my father invited Kennedy and Marlene over for lunch. Kennedy may have redeemed himself by his unexpected visit and how he tended to me at the bar, but he was still deemed the enemy, as far as I was concerned. “What do you hope to get out of Townsend's visit today?” I asked while preparing our breakfast. My father wanted the works today—eggs benedict, fresh fruit, coffee and freshly squeezed orange juice. The latter was an odd request since I usually bought orange juice in a bottle. That’s just as good. Making me squeeze a bag of oranges to get two small cups was part of the punishment he was serving me. “Do you realize you get more juice from the bottle?”
“I realize that. But you need to suffer the consequences of your action and let me reiterate, you could have been killed.”
He didn’t bother to look up when he chided me for the umpteenth time and didn’t seem to care about the strain juicing oranges by hand was putting on my wounds. I could’ve used our fancy, under-used electric juicer, but no—no, he’s riding me like a slave to teach me a lesson. “You never answered my question about Kennedy’s visit?”
