Outlaw's Vow: Grizzlies MC Romance(150)
“We'll get to it, babe. Piece by piece. We're not heading straight home.”
“No?”
“Fuck no. We've got one more stop to make. If you still don't know who the hell I am, then I'm gonna drill it into your pretty blonde head. You've seen ma – crazy, well meaning, and energy off the charts. That's the light. Now, it's only fair I show you the dark.”
I didn't know what the hell he was talking about. My blood pressure spiked, and a strange dread twisted in my stomach, mercilessly building the entire twenty minute drive to the huge, broken down warehouse.
We pulled into a long abandoned parking lot with a rusty, imperfect fence surrounding it.
They say some people are so sensitive they can sense phantoms, especially the sad and angry ones. I wasn't sure about that, but I definitely got an unshakeable, sick certainty in the pit of my soul the instant we drove in.
Something terrible had happened here. I knew it before he killed the ignition and ordered me out, pointing toward the corner side of the warehouse.
“Come on. Grab the kid and let's walk,” he growled, popping his door as soon as the engine went quiet.
“You're sure it's safe here?”
He snorted. “I wouldn't be bringing my old lady or my son here if it weren't. It's broad daylight. Besides, nobody's been fucking stupid enough to use this place as a rally point since the shit that went down years ago. Not after the media storm and the cops combing it.”
I held my breath, stepping out of the truck and reaching for Caleb, unbuckling his safety belt. The baby cooed tiredly in my arms, and put up a little fuss as the cool breeze hit us. He was way more interested in taking a well earned nap after running around with grandma than seeing some grown up drama at this worn down place.
Roman looked behind me, a few steps ahead, waving us forward. I went on, my heart pounding. We approached a small corner with a half-broken down fence, next to a decrepit loading dock.
He stepped a short distance past a wide gap in the rusty brown chain link fence, staring quietly at the pavement. I followed his eyes.
The concrete was broken. Faded graffiti circled a small bronze medallion with the Grizzlies MC logo branded in the middle, pounded into the concrete.
I couldn't make out anything except the choppiest hint of DAGGER in faded, rusty red paint, and a date that looked like it ended in the late nineties.
“This is where my old man met his maker,” he said, looking up and locking on my eyes. “Dagger got himself killed for the club. He left behind my poor ma and a really pissed off fourteen year old kid. Me.”
He thumped his chest. Lightning caused his face to twitch, like years of rotten memories rushed through him at once.
“I'm sorry,” I said, and I meant it. It was also all I could manage with the heavy emotions charging the air.
I'd never seen him like this. The dark, lonely look in his beautiful hazel eyes, his huge shoulders slightly slumped. I saw a man who'd been beaten by one of the few things he'd never control – the past.
I had to know. I swallowed, gathering my words, then clutched Caleb tight with the other arm as I laid a soft hand on his shoulder. “How did it happen? I mean, if you don't mind –“
“Bad deal went down here. The Nevada Scorps came over to pick up some nasty shit the club played mule to deliver. The Scorps were hot shit back before Reno and Vegas turned into neutral zones no MC could claim. They also liked to flip you the fucking bird and sting your ass raw as soon as you expected cash in hand. The fuckers tried to low ball the club for coke we were selling in the old days at a loss, right as we were getting our hands in other shit.”
Pausing, his face tightened, anger threatening to ripple through his features. “They ambushed the MC. Told 'em to take their shitty offer or else, and they had the manpower to back it up. My old man was a total hothead. Like father, like son, I guess.
“He was having trouble at home with ma and hitting the bottle too hard. She loved that man, and was proud to be his old lady, but he stepped in the typical mid-life crisis shit and went crazy. Started fighting with her, drinking like a bastard, probably fucking a few club sluts on the side. Something pushed him over the edge. He fucked up bad, and he lost his life. Right here.”
Roman stepped over the red paint, tapped the edge of the memorial with his boot.
I stared at him with wide eyes, and then looked back to the ground. I couldn't believe he was showing me the spot where his father died.
“It happened quick. You don't get second chances in this biz. He punched a Scorp, and they pulled their guns. Knocked his damned teeth out, three blows to the head. Blackjack was there with the old crew, and he found himself up against the wall too, a shotgun pressed against his chest. All the guys watched with rage boiling them alive while the fuckers took the coke, took the money, and kicked the shit out of my old man on the ground 'til he stopped breathing.”