Take Me, Outlaw(43)

“Maybe next life, clown,” I sneered, pulling the trigger. The bullet hit Jester in the side of the head and his head lolled to the floor, blood pooling beneath his red hair.



I turned to Jewel and held her close, kissing her. I felt like I'd almost been suffocated to death, only to get a sweet gasp of air at the last minute. I breathed her in, consumed her lips with mine.



If there was any doubt in my mind about how much I needed to be with her, it was swept away with that kiss. When our lips parted, I could see that I'd left a little blood on hers, and wiped it off.



“Guess we'd better bring this thing back to the harbor, huh?” I asked. “Do you know anything about boats?”



“No,” Jewel said, smiling, “but it couldn't be much different from driving a car, right?”



We started to walk toward the control room when we suddenly heard a splashing sound from the side of the yacht. As we headed in that direction, I noticed that both of us still seemed pretty unsteady on our feet. I had a concussion and a wounded arm, she'd been fucking drugged, and somehow, we'd still managed to take down Jester.



We both peered over the side of the yacht, just in time to see Richie revving the engine on a small orange lifeboat. He was still bleeding from the two holes in his chest. He scowled up at us.



“Whatever you assholes did to the deck, it damaged the engine,” he yelled. “This thing's dead in the water and I'm outta here. See you both in hell.” He took off in the lifeboat, zooming off toward the dark horizon.



“Are you gonna be able to swim for it in your condition?” I asked Jewel.



“I don't know,” Jewel said. “Are you?”



“I don't know either,” I laughed. “But I guess we'd better try.”



“Okay, here we go,” Jewel said, stepping up to the edge of the deck and holding my hand.



“Wait just a second,” I said, letting go of her hand and stepping back. “I need to grab something first.”



I ran back to the cabin and crouched down next to Jester, going through his pockets. Finally, I found the memory stick and grabbed it. I knew it wouldn't be safe in the water so I took Jester's wallet and pawed through it. At last, I found what I was looking for.



A condom.



I opened the wrapper, unfurled the latex sheathe, and carefully stuck the memory stick into it, tying it off. I hoped it would do the trick.



I straightened back up and paused to spit on Jester's motionless face before walking back out to the deck. I stood next to Jewel on the edge of the yacht and we held hands again.



“On three,” she said.



“Okay,” I agreed. “One.”



“Two,” she said.



We said “three” together and jumped, the lake's cold water plunging up over our heads. My whole body felt a shock and I forgot to swim for a moment. My head started to spin again and I flailed under the water, suddenly unable to tell which way the surface was.



The holes in my arm thudded with pain as I moved against the water, trying to swim. I looked at the bubbles pluming from my nose and mouth, realized they'd naturally head for the surface, and followed them. The water around my head seemed red and murky, and I knew that the impact with the water had probably started my nose bleeding again.



Just let me make sure I get Jewel to the harbor safely, I silently begged anyone who would listen. I can die after that, but please, just let me make it that far.



I hit the surface gasping for air and looked around, trying to see Jewel. Instead a bright white light burned directly into my eyes, momentarily blinding me. I held up my hand against it as I heard someone with a bullhorn bark, “Stay where you are! We're coming to get you!”



My eyes slowly adjusted, and I saw that the light was being shined by a member of the police department's Harbor Patrol. He was wearing a bright orange life jacket and reaching out to me with a pole as two other harbor cops pulled Jewel onto their boat.



I grabbed hold of the pole and let the harbor cop pull me toward him until I was close enough for him to haul onboard.



“And just what the hell happened to you two?” the harbor cop asked, bewildered.





Chapter 41




Rafe



An hour and a half later, we were standing on the docks, giving our statements to the police for the third time as the Harbor Patrol towed the yacht to shore. The dock was cordoned off and flickering with red and blue lights from patrol cars and emergency vehicles.



A medic was patching up the cuts on my hand and face, but there were cops waiting next to him. I knew the score. Once they were sure I wouldn't bleed out and die in their custody, they'd arrest me as a known felon who'd just admitted to multiple violations of his parole, and I'd be back in Potawatomi in no time.



But part of me didn't care. I was too tired and concussed to make up a bunch of lies for them. And at least I'd made sure Jewel was safe. She could go back to her job and her parents, and I knew that would have to be good enough for me. It didn't feel like it ever could be, though. It felt like it would leave another hole inside of me, one that even rage couldn't fill.



Once the yacht was docked, I saw a bunch of police tactical officers board it, followed by a team of medics.



No need for that, boys, I thought. No one left alive on that boat.



So I was surprised when a few minutes later, the medics came down the gangway, hustling a gurney with a man strapped to it. I peered over and saw that it was Jester, spasming violently as the EMS techs tried to resuscitate him. His eyelids fluttered, and for just one brief second, I could have sworn that he looked at me. But then the medics wheeled him to the ambulance and drove him away.



“What happens now?” Jewel asked me.



I sighed, prepared to tell her that now I had to go, and that if she was smart, she'd forget about me and find someone worthy of her. But before I could say any of that, an unmarked police car pulled up to the docks and a tall, cadaverous man with a gray buzz cut got out. He walked over to us, flashing a badge at the officers hovering around us.



“Give us a moment alone, will you, fellas?” the gray-haired man said. His voice sounded tired and gravelly. The other cops quickly walked away, stealing glances back in our direction.



“My name is Superintendent Hollis Grady of the CPD,” he said. “Were you one of Bard's boys?”



Bard's boys. I'd never thought of myself that way, but it seemed fitting. He'd been a father to all of us, in his way. “Yeah, I suppose I am,” I answered.



“And is it true?” Grady demanded. “Is Bard on that boat? Is he dead?”



I looked into Grady's eyes. It was like looking into the eyes of a hawk. “I'm afraid so, sir,” I said. “I'm sorry. I heard you were close.”



Grady closed his eyes for a moment, then crossed himself, his bushy eyebrows drawing together in a frown. “God rest him,” Grady said. “A deeply fucked-up man, but a good one, to be sure. Yesterday, he called me asking about this so-called Family of Thorns. Since you were on this boat with him and several known Thorns, I assume you had some part to play in all this?”



“Yes, sir,” I nodded. I was prepared to accept my sentence. Whatever it was, it still probably wasn't as bad as I deserved.



But Grady put his hand on my shoulder and looked into my eyes. “Well, whatever happened here, it's resulted in the arrests of several Thorns. Depending on what we find on that boat, it may even be the first domino that falls in putting them all behind bars. So as far as I'm concerned, that's enough to give you a pass tonight, in honor of a fallen comrade who'd no doubt have appreciated it. I'll massage the report as best I can tomorrow when it hits my desk, and see if I can find a way to leave you both out of the worst of it.”



I fucking couldn't believe my ears. “Thank you.”



Grady glanced at Jewel, and saw that we were holding hands. “You just make the most of it, son,” he told me. “Do us both a favor, and do Bard one as well. Don't ever give me cause to see you again. Understand?”



“Yes, sir,” I said. “I will make the most of it, I promise.”



And as I leaned over and kissed Jewel again, I knew that I meant every word.





Epilogue




Rafe



A year later, things had mostly settled down.



The remaining Reapers decided that their best bet was to make Boomer their new president since he was the most senior member left, and he'd spent the most time as an officer of the club.



Because the ranks had been thinned out so much from the wars with the Bonaccorsos and the Thorns, Boomer ended up recruiting a bunch of members from the Madison chapter. A few of them washed out and joined other clubs or became weekend warriors, but most of them proved they had what it took to run with the big boys.



Everyone knew that things would never be the same without Bard and Growler, but Boomer held a recruitment drive for new prospects, and six months later, they'd done a damn good job of restoring the War Reapers MC to its former glory. Giggles had been promoted to Sergeant-at-Arms, and Nic had even agreed to take a more active leadership role until the MC got back on its feet again.



Boomer came to me in those early days of putting the pieces back together. He held out his meaty hand, offering the VP patch.



“You fucked up bad,” Boomer said, “an' I know we've got a lot of stuff to work out between us, but you're still one of the most badass riders I've ever known. You know how the club works, you know what it needs to survive. If Bard were alive, I know he'd offer you another chance 'cause he believed in you so much, even at the end. If you're willing to work with me, I'd like to have you.”