Saved by the Outlaw(20)
“Lotta the folks who didn’t side with the union came out alright in the aftermath,” I agree with a nod, “but he took a pay cut just like everyone else. You don’t remember him working later nights for the time before you left?”
Cherry furrows her brow, and the pieces begin to fall together in her mind. “He said he was putting aside cash for a college fund when he started moonlighting.”
“A lot of people had to start ‘saving for a special occasion’ after the bust,” I say, a grim smile on my face. “I know your dad didn’t always love what we did, Cherry, but those of us the bosses decided to strike back at felt it hard. Nowadays, this club is the only thing keeping the place together. It’s not like it’s ideal, but until they listen to our demands, it’s what we’re forced to do to survive.”
Cherry looks like she’s starting to understand, but to drive things home, I nod my head up to one of the pictures on the wall. It shows a young man and a woman who looks like she’s got as much Russian in her as all the rest of the immigrants.
“See that? The guy in that photo is Henry Lawrence — Gerald and Wanda’s son. He was one of ours.”
“I didn’t see him at the liquor store,” Cherry says.
“No, but the lady, Anya, pushed past you there,” I point out, and I see recognition in Cherry’s face. “The two of them got hitched a few years back. Real happy couple, both of ‘em.” I smile, remembering the wedding party the two of them had, and it seemed like a lifetime ago.
“The cops brought Henry in a few years ago as a suspect in a robbery. Claimed he was an accomplice of a couple of strangers from out of town who hit a convenience store off the interstate. He just happened to be patrolling in the area, and they took him in.” I pause, my lips tight for a moment. “He died while the police had him. Official story was he was resisting, tried to jump the cops in transit. Everyone who knows Henry knew he couldn’t hurt a fly, but those fuckers…”
Cherry is paying rapt attention, and I lean forward, clasping my hands together.
“Anya was inconsolable for the longest time. She was a nurse back then, but after Henry died, she took his place in the club. Still rides his bike and wears his kutte to this day. Nowadays, she’s our medic. She’ll be making sure those workers back at the liquor store are well taken care of on their way to the hospital. I wouldn’t put it above the cops around here to try and make sure they don’t pull through so they can’t testify to anything in court. As if most of the judges aren’t bought.”
Cherry is quiet for a long time, a thoughtful expression on her features. As I watch her, I realize that while I’ve grown so hard over the years, developed such a thick skin to resist all the constant repression the people of the town face while just trying to scrape by... Cherry hasn’t lost one iota of the youthful energy she had the day she left. She’s as vigorous as she is gorgeous, like a bolt of lightning trying to surge through her old hometown and hitting resistance she wasn’t expecting to find.
I have to admit, jaded as I am, it’s a little inspiring to see. A lot inspiring, actually.
“To say Dad didn’t approve of what you all were doing is putting it lightly,” Cherry says with a small smile. “Especially after the name ‘union Club’ started cropping up.”
“He always was a straight arrow,” I say with a laugh, shaking my head. “And to be honest, I don’t blame him. It’s a scary thing to see an MC crop up in your front yard, I can understand that.”
“These people really seem to value you, though,” Cherry admits, glancing back to the kitchen, where the smell of fresh coffee has started to waft from. “Hell, maybe…” she pauses, obviously uncomfortable getting her thought out. She opens her mouth to continue, and I suspect I know what she’s going to say, but she lets the words die in her mouth as Wanda comes shuffling into the room with a broad smile on her face.
“Here we are. I hope neither of you wanted decaf.”
“Thanks,” I say with a smile, taking the coffee and feeling invigorated by the smell alone as Wanda hands Cherry her mug.
“Now let me tell you, dearie,” Wanda tells Cherry with a grandmotherly smile, “I don’t know how long you’ve been in town, but if you’re riding with Leon here, why, you couldn’t be in better hands.”
“It sounds like it,” Cherry says with a nervous laugh. I can’t help but grin. She seems a little uncomfortable around older people. I forget that living in a city like she has can let you stick to your own age group pretty exclusively.