Blood in the Water(115)

Paul owed his life to Samuel and Terry. Tag and Sinatra and Dizzy, Chiz and Crash were jogging across the lot. Paul finally got his hoodie off and bundled it against Terry’s side. Samuel scrambled up and went for Ashleigh. Dizzy took over the compress as Samuel drew a shaking and pale Ashleigh out of the room. Paul staggered to his feet, meaning to go to her, but she shrank back with a look of utter loathing. She knew, she’d been told. Spike had probably taken great pleasure in telling her that the man sharing her bed was a traitor. But he had to know how badly she was hurt.



“Beauty, are you...?”



“Fuck you, you traitorous fucking bastard. Don’t you dare touch me!” Her voice was hoarse but firm. She wasn’t hysterical, only full of hatred for him.



He reached out to her, needing to touch her, but Samuel drew his daughter further into his embrace, away from him.



“This don’t look to be too serious, but we need to get him to a hospital to get checked.” Dizzy called from his position by Terry.



“Tag, you take Ashleigh, Shark and Terry to Doc Anderson’s. We can’t risk ‘em askin’ questions at St. Raphael’s. Terry, you better hope that bullet didn’t hit anything major. We’ll clean up here.” Only as Samuel issued the directive did Paul realize that his arm was drenched in his own blood.



“You guys did make one hell of a mess.” Chiz looked around the scene of carnage.



“What do we do about this? Those shots ain’t gonna go unnoticed.” Sinatra stated.



“Leave any guns that were fired. Wipe ‘em clean and put someone else’s prints on ‘em if you touched ‘em. As far as anyone lookin’ at this cluster fuck is concerned, it’s a deal that went south. We can set tongues waggin’ about the Chief. We’ve got a few friends who can help with that. It’ll keep the heat off of us.” Dizzy replied.



“We’ve got some time yet before anyone comes lookin’. We need to get rid of the bodies we took care of. This we can set up.” He motioned at the bodies on the ground leaking blood onto the tarmac. “Explainin’ away four bodies with their necks twisted ain’t gonna be so easy. We’ll dump the bodies in the river, set the rooms to rights and break down their bikes for parts.”



Paul looked down the bank of motel rooms and tried not to think about the dead mean within them that he’d once called friend and brother, but there was someone else to consider. He turned to Samuel. “Cross had a little girl, Jenny. No mama around.”



Samuel regarded Paul carefully. From the corner of his eyes he could see Dizzy looking at him intently, too. “I’ll put word out to Eduardo. He’ll make sure she finds a good home.” Samuel answered.



“Thank you.” The weight of the night’s events was pushing down on Paul’s shoulders, the loss of those that were now dead and those still living felt like a fist in his chest squeezing his heart to pulp.



Samuel turned to Tag. “I’ll take your bike.” Then he turned back to Paul. “I want you back at the clubhouse at noon. We’ll see what the table says then.”



Paul nodded. There was nothing else he could say.



They loaded Terry into the van and laid him out on the floor. Paul sat by him, taking over the job of keeping pressure on the wound. Ashleigh sat on the other side of that dark space and didn’t say one word to him. He didn’t blame her one bit.



~o0o~



Paul sat in his seat at the table in the Priest’s Chapel. They’d allowed him that much while they discussed his fate. He felt wretched with grief and loss, but he would not show it. Despite the gritty ache in his eyes from lack of sleep, he stared impassively at the men who he wanted to call ‘brother,’ the men who held his life in their hands. Not one seat was empty; even Terry who looked ghostly with blood loss was gritting his teeth against the pain to be present.



Samuel banged the gavel three times.



“Brothers. We’re here to vote for the life of one of our own. Paul came to us with murderous intent hidden in friendship. You all know the penalty he deserves for that.”



Samuel paused. Paul would not drop his head, would not look away from his President’s gaze, even as he knew he was about to be condemned.



Samuel continued. “But he saved my life. He played his part in savin’ my girl. He made no move against this club, and he came to me to confess under his own steam, without duress. I want you all to consider that when you vote. Those in favor of Shark meetin’ the Redeemer say ‘Aye’.”