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“I could tell ya a story. You like stories, Charlie?” He tilts his head and studies him.
“Sure.” Charlie nods his head, attempting to seem enthusiastic, and I join him. I figure if he’s telling us a story, he won’t be hurting us. He can tell all the stories he wants.
“You think I’m bad.” Chop points his finger at me accusingly. “Skid would have told ya that I’m a cold-hearted monster, but none of that’s true.” He crouches down in front of Charlie and when he takes his hand it makes me shudder.
“Skid would be no one without me. Everythin’ he’s got is becauseIbrought us here.Iset our path.” He gets more frustrated with each word he speaks.
“If he would have just left her alone, she would still be alive.” His voice drops into a whisper, proving that the man is clearly unstable. He’s acting as if we’re supposed to empathize with him.
“I saw her first,” he continues to explain, standing back up. His mood switching back to anger in a split second. “She was the kinda girl you only had to look at to know she’d change your fuckin’ life. I wanted her. I wanted her more than I could stand. I felt like I couldn’t fuckin’ breathe when I was around her. But I also knew I was bad for her.” He slumps down in the chair and strokes his hand through his beard, the fury in his eyes turning to sadness.
“By then, I’d already killed a few others. I didn’t want her to ever become one of ‘em.” He raises his head back up to look at me. “I saved her.” He holds on to that thought as he nods his head.
“I gave her a shot at fuckin’ livin, and I had every intention of staying the hell away from her. But…” His fists tense and his breath releases through his nostrils as he struggles to get his words out.
“He did it. He brought her into the life I was protecting her from. He brought her closer to me, into the danger zone where I had nothin’ but time. Time to watch her and torture myself with how it could have been. Time for my anger to build and all those nasty, little thoughts in my head to develop and become an obsession.” Chop is breathing like a bull about to charge as the rage creeps higher. “She should have been mine,” he bellows, standing up and flipping the table over. Charlie screams, squeezing his eyes shut tight, then when a soaked patch starts to spread across the front of his pants, I realize I have to do something.
“You're right. Skid was selfish to do that.” I speak up. “You did the right thing. You showed control.” I try to talk him down, and when he looks at me like I’ve shocked him, I realize my plan is working.
“You have no idea how hard it was watching them together. How he lived that life I wanted right in front of me.” He opens up a little more as I nod my head back understandingly.
“I lived like that for years, just lettin’ him have her. Watching her fall more and more in love with him. Everybody does that. Perfect fuckin’ Tristan. Perfect fuckin’ Skid. He kills someone and he’s a fuckin hero. I kill someone and I’m a fuckin’ psychopath.” He kicks the table and makes both me and Charlie jump.
“When the feds came lookin’ for me at the club I had to cut and run. I knew that I could never go back. Skid had no idea what they had on me when he pretended he was me so I could get a head start on runnin’ and the Souls would never have condoned it. I had every intention of leaving quietly. I was gonna slip off and start over, but in my rush to get away, I left somethin’ behind. Somethin’ that, if Prez ever found, would have made him hunt me down. If I stood any chance of livin’, I had to go back and get it.”
“What was it?” I ask, his story reeling me in and making me curious.
“Some fucker was trying to put the shit into me. Sent me a USB stick with a recording that would have been made a long time ago. It was evidence that I was slammin’ it into Prez’s wife, and contained a not-so -friendly conversation I had with his best friend, who just so happened to be dead a few days later…”
“And did you?” I don’t know why I ask when I’m already certain of the answer.
“I had to. Brian was gonna tell Prez, it would have blown my whole cover and got me kicked out of the club. I wasn’t gonna die because that bitch wanted her husband to notice her, and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna let Brian Donavon rat me out.” He shakes himself out of his thoughts before he continues.
“The trunk I kept that recording in had been taken outta my cabin. Tommy told me the boys made my cabin clean, they knew that when the Feds found out Skid wasn’t me and came back searching they’d go through the club until they found something. He was certain that the trunk was taken to Skid’s, but he couldn’t get to it without anyone questioning him. I figured that I’d have to do the job myself. Judge Jackson created a distraction for me by serving a search warrant on the club. That was meant to be my final goodbye present but turns out they got a tip-off. Jimmer Carson always lands on his fuckin’ feet,” Chop snarls
“The distraction still worked out. Everyone was panicking, tryin’ to shift shit. I moved in from my hiding place in the forest and went to Skid’s place. I don’t know why I was surprised when I saw her there. It was her home, after all. It felt like fate though. Just like the first time I saw her. There was no one else there, just me and her, and I knew it would be the last time I saw her. I just…” He pauses like he doesn’t know how to describe his emotions. “I wanted him to feel how I felt. I wanted him to ache real deep. To have that hole inside him that he’d never fill.
So I took her. I fucked her and I killed her. And Addison…” His eyes are focused on me now, and I search them really hard to try and find some remorse. “…it felt every bit as good as I imagined it would.”
My boot stomps on the empty cardboard box to flatten it when my phone starts to ring.
“You seen Addison anywhere?” Uncle Skid asks as I pick it up and toss it into the huge dumpster around the side of the clubhouse.
“Not today.” I balance the phone between my ear and shoulder as I slam the lid shut and dust my hands together.
“I tried callin’ her when we left Oak Creek and again just now, she ain’t answerin’.” He sounds worried.
“You want me to go up to the cabin and give her a message?”
“Yeah, just tell her I’m only an hour away. I ain’t bringin’ these assholes back to the club, we’re droppin’ ‘em off at Sinnerman’s Quarry.”
“Droppin’ ‘em off alive?” I ask.
“No, they’re dead now. Grimm’s got a storage container built into the ground out here where they can wait for him ‘til he’s back. You know if ya make it to Prospect, you’ll get the honor of helpin’ him,” Skid points out, giving me a little more hope.
“You sound like you're tryin’ to put me off.” I laugh to myself.
“Just remindin’ ya that it ain’t all drinkin’ beer and fuckin’ pussy.”
