“You always have a choice.” Her words rang true. They were ones I had used many times myself.
“Yeah, well I chose to keep my club whole and my girl alive. I couldn’t choose between the two. Charlie demanded that I come alone and I knew the club wouldn’t go for it. Even if they did, I didn’t want them to have to live with that burden if things didn’t happen as planned. Charlie keeps his word, but that’s the only thing he does. He is unpredictable, Red. He never agreed not to hurt me or Dallas once the trade was made. He is capable of anything.” I had her by her shoulders, looking into her red rimmed, hazel eyes. I needed her to understand. Regg would need her. I couldn’t have them both against me. If I lost one, I lost the other, and I was hoping to salvage the friendships I had with them.
“We could have found another way,” she whispered, sobbing lightly in front of me. It didn’t matter to her that her makeup was smeared or her nose was running, mixing with the tears that poured down her face. This was a woman whose appearance was the last thing on her mind in a time like this. I wiped her eyes with my thumbs, fighting off tears of my own. If any woman could bring a man down to size, it was this one.
“There is no other way, babe. This is it. It’s all I have to offer. What do I do, Red? What is my main goal in life?” I asked.
“You protect your family,” she whispered.
“That’s right. You are all my family. I can’t keep everyone safe if I stay. By stepping down from the club, I am keeping it whole and keeping Dallas alive.” Red nodded. She understood. “I need you, Red. Don’t hate me, because I can’t live in a world where you do.” She looked into my eyes that were filled with tears.
“I could never hate you,” she said, throwing her arms around my neck and burying her face in my chest. I held her for a long time, letting her cry into my shirt. Sometimes I guess even the strong ones break. When she regained her composure and wiped her face, she gave me the smile that I loved so much. “Come on and I’ll fix you dinner. You have to go get our girl tomorrow.”
Red insisted that I let Frankie come up and eat dinner with us in the kitchen. Some shit about the last supper. When I told her he wasn’t Jesus and we were not his disciples, she clarified that she meant the last meal-the one death row inmates had before they were executed. I rolled my eyes, but knew she wouldn’t shut up until I brought him upstairs with us. I found Frankie, untied and alone in the safe room beneath my house. The door at the top of the stairs had not even been locked. It took a minute to control my anger. Fucking Red. He could have escaped.
“Yo Frankie,” I called, standing on the stairs looking down at him. He was lying on his side in the bed unmoving. “Frankie,” I repeated a little louder this time. My stomach flipped and I held my breath as I descended the stairs. Something in my gut told me that Frankie wasn’t answering because he was asleep, but because he was dead. By the time I hit the bottom step, I felt like I was going to faint. Just then, Frankie rolled towards me, giving me that awful fucking grin of his.
“Just fucking with ya, Luke. I ain’t dead.” If it hadn’t been for Dallas, I would have killed him with my bare hands. “Dinner ready? I’m starving,” I wanted to tell him to fuck off, that the only thing he would be eating was a shit sandwich, but Red chose that moment to scream for us to hurry the hell up.
“You have got to be the luckiest bastard on this planet,” I mumbled, grabbing Frankie by the arm and pushing him in front of me.
“Yeah, well ya know Lukey boy, I always have had some pretty good luck. I remember this one time in Reno-” I stopped listening as I stared at the clothing he wore. Fucking Red.
“Ooh Frankie, don’t you look nice,” Red said, giving me a wink. I gave her the I’ll-rip-your-fucking-heart-out stare and she moved her gaze from me to Frankie.
“Those are my jeans,” I said to no one in particular. Did it not bother anyone that he was wearing my fucking clothes?
“Oh Luke, you are such a girl. You can get them back when Charlie kills him. I’m sure he won’t mind.” I sobered at her comment, not believing she had just said that. In front of Frankie. I hated the man, but even I felt sorry for him. Red had no fucking heart. I walked into the kitchen, making myself a plate. Red had fixed Frankie’s and sat it on the table for him. Frankie’s laugh was nervous as he dug into the mashed potatoes and gravy that I knew were divine.
“You are one evil bitch,” I said, walking up behind her and whispering in her ear. She shrugged her shoulder’s, not bothered by my choice of words.