Bounty:Fury Riders MC(72)

     



 

"We're still a small town. News flares up, but it dies down quickly."

"Not gossip, though. That's why I was wondering if you knew anything I wouldn't otherwise be able to find."

She looks uncomfortable. "You can tell me, Amy. It won't hurt me. Not knowing the truth hurts more than anything else, I think."

"I guess you're right." She looks around-there are only two people still  drinking coffee and reading their papers. "Well, I'll tell you this  first: people try to make Marissa out to be a saint now that she's dead.  I don't think that was the case, not really."

"No? I remember hearing people talking about what a nice girl she was,  how they didn't know why she would have married Jax in the first place."

"She might have started out like that. Who's to say? I didn't know her  back then, or very well after they were married. But from what I hear … "  she looks around again, " … she was into drugs. Both before and after they  were married."

"Drugs? Oh, no." Adam hadn't said anything about that, but then why  would he? No family member wants to admit things like that about a  deceased loved one, especially if the death tore them up inside the way  Marissa's clearly had.

"Yeah, lightweight stuff at first. Kid stuff. Pot, pills. She stopped  for a while when they were first married-I heard he insisted-but she  started up again at some point. The word heroin was used."

"No way. I guess people blame Jax for it."

"Are you kidding? She could have been hit by lightning and they'd blame him."

I imagine how awful it must have been for Jax, watching his wife fall  deeper into drugs. I've never personally known a heroin addict, but I  know how increasingly common it's becoming.

"Then there was the whole scandal that went on with the Angels around that time."

"What scandal?"

"Illegal weapons. Gun running, specifically. They were under suspicion.  The cops were watching their every move. It was a crazy time. Every day,  the rest of the town wondered when the club would be taken down, and  whether there would be some big shoot-out when they were. We held our  breath every day. It felt like living in a war zone just waiting for the  first shot to be fired." She shivers, rubbing her arms.

"Did anything ever happen?"

"No. There was never enough evidence to arrest them. Those guys are  smart. Imagine what they could have done with their lives if they hadn't  turned to crime. Anyway, another theory around that time was that a  rival gun runner was responsible for Marissa's murder."

"I guess that makes sense. Like a message, or payback or something?"

"Right." She shrugs. "That's all the news that's fit to print, my love. I don't know anything else."

"Believe me, you've told me plenty. I needed a little bit of context. It's hard knowing what to believe sometimes."

Amy's hand touches my arm. "Listen. No matter what the real, full story  is, there's one thing that applies no matter what version you're  listening to."

"What's that?"

"The club had something to do with it. Either Jax did it, or somebody  related to the club business. And let's be honest, if she was on drugs,  where do you think they came from?"

She's right. I can't deny it.

"I say this to warn you, is all. Don't get too involved with the club,  especially now that they're back in town. Nothing good comes from it.  These are not good people. You're a good person. You deserve better."

I know she cares, which is why I give her a hug. I can't take her  advice, though. Maybe I'm being naïve, but it's not the club I'm getting  involved with. It's Jax. It's clear to me he wants to put space between  himself and the rest of them. I'm not afraid.

At least, not of the Angels of Chaos. Or their enemies.

The shop is empty now, save for Amy and me. She starts cleaning up the  tables while I take my phone from my purse to call Jax. I have to get  through to him somehow.

Before I go to the back for a little privacy, I turn to where Amy's wiping down tabletops.

"Hey, was there any talk about me in here? This morning, I mean?"

She doesn't know what to say, which is all the answer I need. I nod,  understanding, then go through the door leading to the pantry. I'll have  to tackle the gossip issue somehow, but now's not the time. The town  deserves to know what a good man Jax is, and Jax deserves to be treated  better.

I call him, hoping he's home and in a better mood. The phone rings five … six … seven times before the voicemail picks up.

"Hi, this is Jax. Leave a message." Short, to the point. So typical.

"Jax, it's me. I wish you'd answer your phone. Now I know how you felt  when I wouldn't answer for you. Anyway … I want to talk to you. I want you  to understand I wasn't blaming you for anything today. I'm on your  side, always. I swear it. I know you didn't kill her. Nothing Adam said  made a difference in what I think or how I feel about you. Please call  me back."         

     



 

I hang up, leaning my back against the rack and the phone pressed to my forehead.

He has to call me back.

I can't imagine living without him now.





Chapter 26

I stand outside the shop, in the back, catching a breath of fresh air.  Jax hasn't called me back, though in my heart of hearts I don't expect  him to. Not right away, that is.

What bothers me the most is the feeling that I hurt him.

I tried to explain as best I could via voicemail, telling him I'm on his  side. That I don't believe the terrible things people have said or  thought about him. I'm on his side.

I remember Adam. The way he looked when he stood on the lawn. The way I  though he reminded me of a broken man. That's what he is. A broken man,  looking for answers. Why was his sister killed? Could he have done  anything to stop it? I know that's how I'd feel. I'd want to know those  things, too. I might even turn to drinking, which he clearly has done.  He looked terrible.

People who are grieving don't think clearly. They don't reason. He's not  reasoning, that's all there is to it. He wants to blame his sister's  death on Jax, as everyone else has. Pin it on the person closest to the  victim. That's fairly typical. After all, don't police always look for  the person closest? Usually the spouse or significant other? It didn't  help when the gun used to kill the victim is the same type carried by  the spouse.

I run my hands through my hair, leaving traces of flour. Okay. I know  I'm rationalizing. I know it looks bad for him. I have to keep reminding  myself of the person I know. They person I see inside him. That person  wouldn't do something so horrible. He wouldn't. He couldn't.

Why am I shaking, then? Because he won't call me back, that's all. I  don't know how he feels right now, whether he's angry with me or just  sad because he thinks I didn't believe him. Has he even listened to his  voicemail?

Amy calls to me from inside. I go in, needing to warm up. It's freezing outside. I had to clear my head.

"You okay? I thought you froze to death out there." She's smiling at me,  accepting me. She's the only person I know at the moment who isn't full  of judgment. She cares, but she knows I can make my own choices.

"Just needed to think, is all," I say. I pour myself a cup of coffee if only to warm my cold hands.

"We've got plenty of room to think in here, sister," she says with a smirk.

"I like fresh air with my thinking," I reply quietly. But with a smile.

"I thought maybe … "

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe he came, and you met him out there."

I sigh. "He wouldn't come. Especially after the raft of shit he got from  his brother-in-law earlier today about being in town. He wouldn't come  again so soon."

"Brother-in-law? Not anymore, right?" Implying since Marissa is dead, there's no relation.

"I guess so? What do you call a brother-in-law once the spouse dies?" We both shrug. It seems as good a name as any.

"So what kind of things was he saying? Why can't Jax come to town?" Amy  sits in one of the chairs. The place is empty, night falling. Not many  people are interested in coffee at this time of day, but we stay open  for the occasional straggler in need of a jolt, or maybe a cup of hot  chocolate.

I lean on the counter, facing her. "You should know why he can't. I mean, you've lived here your whole life."

"Yeah, but I never heard of any rules which state members can't be here.  Just the opposite, really. They show their faces much more often than  we'd like."

I notice how she uses the word "we." I never thought of her as being  part of the town, not in that way. She's young, vibrant, hip. I thought  she was more open-minded than this. I guess I was naïve about a lot of  things. But I know she's my friend, and I can trust her. I need that  right now.

"You wouldn't know if there was any, you know, club rule stating they could only come to town so often."

"I don't think so," Amy says, sipping a cup of tea. "Honestly, when you  first said Jax couldn't come in, I assumed it had something to do with  Marissa. There was an awful lot of drama when she died. I mean a lot of  it. We thought it was crazy when the police were looking to close in on  the gun trade. Oh, brother. That was nothing compared to what went down  after Marissa's murder."