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He returned to his chair, then pulled his long, messy hair into a ponytail. “The group home I’d been in a couple of years before Matt found me. Several of the kids there hurt themselves. One young girl, I think she was nine, burned herself like Tara. She’d told me once, it was what her druggie mom had done to her. When she was feeling down, she burned herself for comfort. To feel close to her mom.”
“Jesus,” I hissed. Had Tara been abused as a kid? Madeline never mentioned anything about it. If she knew, maybe she felt it wasn’t her place to tell me. “I don’t know what to do with this information.”
Grizzly nodded, a contemplative expression on his face. “It might’ve only been an episode. Maybe she doesn’t do it all the time.”
“She’d gone to see Hero earlier today.” I wouldn’t tell Grizzly what Hero had said. It wasn’t my place, but I suspected my SAA had destroyed her and sent her spiraling. It all made sense. The way she threw Copper out of her home, yelled at me, and the burns on her body. She was heartbroken and dealing with it in an unhealthy way.
“That’s some rough shit. When he gets out, she’ll be better.” Grizzly seemed confident in his statement. I wished it was so simple. Regretfully, I believed it would only get worse.
A knock at the door made me exit out of the video. “Yeah?”
Boxer poked his head in. “We doing church or what? It’s almost eleven.”
“Asshole.” I stood, passing Grizzly his electronic lifeline. “Is everyone present?”
“Yup. Just waiting on the two of you.” Boxer seemed stressed. I hoped his informant came through for us.
Shit had better go according to plan, so we didn’t have to do away with his mom and sister. I really didn’t want to hurt the women. They were innocent.
“Let’s do this.”
12
Hero
FIVE HOURS AND thirty-eight minutes had passed since Donut Boy put me in my cell. Thank fuck it wasn’t isolation. Ryder returned an hour and a half ago. Like clockwork, he was doing his nightly exercise routine. The kid was dedicated; I’d give him that.
On my bunk with my hands fisted at my sides, I stared at the ceiling. Tension as thick as molasse worked its way through my body, turning my limbs into stone. I swore time had stalled as my heart jackhammered in my chest. Our unit was silent as the grave. If a pin dropped, we’d all hear it. The waiting drove me insane. It wouldn’t surprise me if I stroked out.
Ryder assured me Dutra knew the club’s expectations. Only time would tell if his mom and sister meant enough to him.
Most criminals, outlaws like us, didn’t expect to live past thirty. I sure as hell never did after the years I spent as a drug-dealing gangbanger in Los Angeles, getting shot at more times than I could count. Had a few scars to show for it.
Penniless druggies had tried their hand at stealing from me, desperate for a fix. I was only seventeen, young, dumb, and cocky as fuck, believing I could rule the world. Then one night, a group of strung-outs had jumped me. I’d spent two days in the hospital recovering from their beating. The day I was released, I purchased a small handgun.
When I thought about the shit I’d been into with the LA Rebels, I felt nothing but shame. It didn’t matter that I was an ignorant teenager and a loner. Those motherfuckers used my stupidity to their advantage, like most criminals. They exploited my desire to belong to an organization knowing I’d do anything to please them.
I shook my head, embarrassed at what a weak pussy I’d been. Ashamed of the people I’d hurt. The young teens I’d gotten hooked on meth. The rich I’d stolen from. I tried to reason it in my mind that I was doing that to survive. To contribute to my gang. That the expensive jewelry wouldn’t be missed and could easily be replaced.
I’d lied to myself, so I wouldn’t feel guilty for stealing from the rich to give to… Who? I wasn’t no fucking Robin-in-the-hood helping the poor. The Rebels were loaded. They drove fancy cars, wore Rolex watches, and not one of the higher-ups got their hands dirty.
As more crews rolled into our territory, it pushed us into others. My gang was crumbling. Members were getting picked off. I knew it was only a matter of time before someone bigger cut the head off the snake.
But did I get out? Stop dealing? Repent and turn over a new, law-abiding leaf?
Fuck no, and it cost me big. My wife and child had lost their lives because of the life I chose.
Actions had consequences, some deadly. Rudy Dutra knew one day he’d pay for his wickedness. He knew the price we paid to live on this side of the law. Knew the Reaper would eventually get him.
One way or another, he’d atone for his sins. It was up to him how it went down, if by his own hands in jail or Miguel’s once he was transported back to Cali. Miguel wouldn’t make it painless either, putting a bullet in his head. Nope, they’d torture until the life drained out of him. It was just how the MCs rolled.
Miguel’s club, the Westside Heretics, didn’t conform toanythingbut their own beliefs. From what I’d heard back when I was a teenager in LA, the Heretics were renowned as sadists. Whether true or not, their name alone struck fear in people. Everything about them was evil and dirty, although you couldn’t tell by Miguel’s polished appearance. The Mexican looked more like a businessman than a biker.
As I found out a long time ago, the payment for a crime was sky-high. Dutra’s situation was no different. I’d lost my wife and son. If given a choice, I would’ve gladly taken their place so they could live. They were innocent, like Dutra’s mom and sister. Damn, I prayed the son of a bitch had an ounce of humanity left inside him and did the right thing.
Thinking about Dutra’s destiny filled me with rage. I sure as fuck would enjoy torturing the rapist before ending his life. Giving him a choice was too kind. After weeks of being hellbent on stripping his entrails out through his ass, letting him take his own life was too fucking humane.
“The night DO just strolled by.” Ryder’s labored breath cut through my thoughts. “Shouldn’t be long now. I mean, you know, if it goes down the way you said.”
