Bounty:Fury Riders MC(78)

"In the woods, maybe five minutes' walk from here," I explain. "I don't  want them to see it here. And I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Wow, thanks," he says, sarcastic.

"Adam, please."

"Listen, I only let you in here because if you're on the run, I don't  want cops seeing you outside. I don't want to hear anything you have to  say, though. Your words don't mean anything to me."

"Adam, come on! I told you, I'm ready to admit everything that happened. I need you to trust me."

"Like my sister did? The way she trusted you to love her when you  married her? That was a joke, just like this is." There's a bottle of  whiskey sitting beside him on the end table. He uncaps it, raising it to  his mouth. Damn it. The drunker he is, the less likely he is to listen  to me.

"I did love her. I still do. Why do you think I stay in this shitty  place? In that house? With reminders of her everywhere I look?"

"Because you need to, so you look innocent. Hey, I've thought this all  out before. I've wondered what the hell you're trying to prove, staying  there. You're right. You could go anywhere. You have no ties. No  parents, no kids. The club wants nothing to do with you. Nobody here  wants anything to do with you. You only stayed so you'd look like the  good guy. And to piss the rest of us off."         

     



 

I sigh. He's not far from the truth. "You're right, partly. I did want  to piss you off at first. I wanted to prove I had nothing to run from.  If I had left town, it would have been enough to make people's minds up  for good that I'd killed Marissa. I couldn't do that. Because I didn't  kill her." He laughs. "I didn't. I loved her. I haven't wanted to let go  of her in all this time. I swear it."

"You swear?"

"Yes. I do."

"On a stack of bibles?" He laughs again, taking another swig.

"Look, damn it." I sit on his coffee table, facing him. Cigarette ash  covers it, the ashtrays overflowing. It feels vaguely sticky. "I don't  know any other way to tell you this. I didn't kill your sister. I loved  her. Everybody assumed it was this bullshit crime of passion, or  whatever. The truth was way deeper than that, man."

"Oh, really? How long did it take you to come up with some big story?  Two years? Why couldn't you have just told the truth back then, if it  was so deep?"

I look at the floor. "Because it would have hurt you too much." I hear his hysterical laughter.

"It would have hurt me? Are you fucking serious?" He laughs again, and I  hear the tears threatening. He's on the edge of a breakdown. "Because  this doesn't already hurt? My sister's dead either way, man. Don't  pretend you were trying to spare my feelings but not telling me this big  truth, this deep story. That's the biggest load of crap you've laid on  me yet."

I look up at him, sitting there. He's practically falling over. I have to get this out before he loses all control.

"I told you I'd tell the truth. I will. But you have to listen. Okay?  Stay with me. You keep drinking, you're gonna pass the fuck out before I  get the chance. And I can't be here long."

"What's the big hurry? Why are they after you?"

"I'll tell you in a minute. First I have to tell you the story. I need  to get this off my chest, man. And I don't know … if I'll make it back.  You deserve to know the truth before I go."

"Fine." He waits for me to continue.

I take a deep, shuddering breath. I'm sorry, Marissa.

"I didn't kill Marissa in the woods that day. I followed her there when I  realized she took my gun. I was trying to keep her from killing  herself."





Chapter 32



Adam doesn't look impressed by the bombshell I just dropped. "What are  you talking about? I expected something lame, but I never expected it to  be this pathetic."

I knew he'd feel this way. "It sounds like a convenient excuse. I understand."

"Yeah. Convenient. Exactly."

"But it's true." I stare at him, needing him to believe me.

"Marissa didn't have it in her it to kill herself."

"Adam, when a person's in as deep as she was … they're capable of  anything. Heroin changes a person. She wasn't the person you knew, the  kid sister. She wasn't even the girl I met that first night. Remember?  When you introduced us at the party?"

His eyes get hazy, a far-away expression. "Yeah. She was, what, fifteen?"

I nod. "I was only sixteen. I'd been dying to get into the club for  years, no matter what it took. You found me hanging around outside that  party."

"I wish I hadn't."

"You know what? Sometimes I wish the same damn thing. But that's what  happened. If it hadn't been you, it would have been somebody else. I  remember the way she was that night. So beautiful. And a lot older than  just fifteen. She was worldly, she knew things. She could tell me the  names of everybody there, all the guys in the club and their  girlfriends, all the girls who hung out to service the members or just  party. She knew them all, knew their stories. Knew the entire world. I  wanted to be part of that world, so I drank it up. It was fascinating. I  remember how perfect she was."

"She was perfect."

"She wasn't anymore by the time she died, man. This is what I'm trying  to remind you. You remember her as that little girl. A lot of shit went  down between that night and the day she died. She wasn't even smoking  pot when I met her-nothing. She was totally clean. All that stuff came  after. I watched her decline. Every day, she got a little worse. I know  you know it. I know you saw it. You told me at the time how worried you  were about her. How you wanted her to go to rehab. Remember?"

After a long time, he nods. I continue. "Believe me. I'm not trying to  bring this up to hurt you, or ruin your memory of her. I have a lot of  memories of Marissa that nothing can touch. I loved her so damn much.  What happened to her, what she became? That was a different person, man.  I would never have believed she was capable of half the shit she did.  Suicide is the least of it."

"Why would she do that? I mean, if I believed you-which I don't-why  would my sister try to kill herself? Or did she not get the chance to  tell you?"         

     



 

"She told me. She told me everything. She'd been keeping secrets from me for a long time."

"And?"

This is the part I knew would hurt him the most. The main reason I never wanted to tell him in the first place.

"Remember that big blow-up we had, around three months before she died? With the cartel? And the guns?"

"Who could forget that? It was a bloodbath."

I nod. "Yeah. It was. We lost five men. Including Frankie."

"It was Frankie's baby, that deal. He'd been in with the cartel for years. That was our biggest moneymaker."

"Yeah, it was. He was a good leader. He wanted what was best for the  club." I look at Adam, stressing what's coming next. "Until he got  greedy."

"Greedy? What's that mean?"

"Why do you think they killed him that night at the warehouse?  Seriously, man. Does it make any sense? He was good friends with the  head of the cartel. They'd been working together for years, went way  back. What went down? We never got the slightest word there was a  problem. No complaints, no threats. Nothing. How does that work?"

Adam shrugs. "Bad blood. It happens."

"Right. And that's what they wanted everyone to think, the cartel  members. They'd had a falling out. Well, they did, only it wasn't over  the actual business deal. On paper, everybody should have been happy. It  was over Frankie skimming off the top."

"What? No. Frankie wouldn't do that."

"Get real, man. He did. He saw how much more money he could make if he  sold the guns for more than he told the cartel he was getting. He'd been  doing it for about a year before they caught on."

"No! How could he get away with something like that without any of us knowing?"

I shrug. "Maybe because we all loved him so much, none of us wanted to  see it. I mean, I'm sitting here telling you about it, and you still  don't want to."

"Because it's easy for you to say years after the man was killed!"

"I understand that. But what I'm telling you is true, man. When they  walked into that sale at the warehouse, Frankie and the guys, the cartel  was lying in wait. Took out all the other guys-they had no idea what  was happening, they were just going along because Frankie was our  president. Trusting him blindly, the way we all did. Then they killed  Frankie. I imagine they saved him for last, but maybe they took him  quick. Who knows?"

Adam takes this in. "If this is true-and I still think you're lying-but if it's true, how the hell do you know?"

I sigh, folding my hands between my spread knees. "I know because Marissa told me. Out in the woods that day."

"What? Marissa? How would she know about this?"