A Lil' Less Hopeless (10 page)

Jay says I know him, I know the kind of man he his, why he’s done what he’s done. I
do
know him. I know that this is just who he is, what he’s made of. But, he knows me too. He may be expecting me to just freak the fuck out and then settle down and accept things... that was the old me. That was Julia Kaegan... single girl with only herself to think of. I’ve evolved, morphed into what and who I was meant to be. Lil’s Cauley. Wife, mother... it’s a fucking game changer.

My foot nervously twitches, awaiting what’s to come. My fingers wring themselves around each other, stretching and pulling on one another. Enough time has passed, they should be here soon. Just when I’ve nervously bitten the inside of my cheek raw, the doorbell rings. This is it.

I scurry out into the main part of the house and past the crowd as they migrate from the kitchen to see who’s come. I purposely avoid their eyes. Swinging the door wide, Jess and Chris stand before me. It’s Sunday, and he’s in casual clothes. He must be off duty. Thank God for small miracles.

Jess rushes in to embrace me. I have offered no explanation yet, and she must be thinking the worst has happened, I’m sure. “You alright, Julia?”

I nod, absently. “I just need to go. Please.”

Jess wraps her hand around my shoulders, and eyes Chris, who has now straightened himself tall before the group of bikers flanking me.

A loud voice clears itself. “Lil’s... you need some rest. It’s been a long morning. Why don’t you go back to bed and I’ll see your friends out.” Vince speaks from over my shoulder.

“No! I’m not going to rest or go hide away.” I defy him. “I’m not going to sit by and let this happen. I’m leaving, now.”

I feel an imposing presence loom behind me. “The hell you are. Your ol’ man wants you to stay put.”

I see Chris step forward but dart my eyes to warn him, stopping him in his tracks. I shrug off Jess’s comforting arm and turn harshly to face my father-in-law. My Godfather. My club’s president.

“Vince. I’m leaving. My
ol’ man
is gonna have plenty to say, I’m sure. But it’ll be said to me. His wife. To my face.
Not...
through a middleman.” And with that, I stalk out through the door. I make my way to the newer model sedan in the driveway. Without waiting for instruction, I help myself into the backseat.

Chris and Jess appear stunned, but follow suit and pile in.

******

“You sure about this, Lil’s?” Jess voices her concern from the front passenger seat.

It’s been barely a week since I was inside that building, hidden away in one of the nondescript interrogation rooms. According to Chris, Jay was inside being processed and preparing to be transported to the local jail.

“I’m sure, Jess. I need to see him.”

“I can get you in and sit him at the table, Lil's, but I can't guarantee he'll talk to you,” Chris chimes in.

I appreciate his frankness. “Just put us in the same room. I don't necessarily need him to talk to me. I just need him to listen.”

When I first met Pretty Boy in the farmhouse, I was wary of him. He proved me wrong, though, and stepped in to save my ass. Special agent Chris Gibson was a prick when I met him, but Chris... I think I like Chris. It was like a perpetual case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Even on his day off, walking into the precinct in plain clothes, Chris commands the respect of the desk cops running things. He fills out some paperwork and Jess and I wait in the seating area. Chris briefly updates us that Jay is still being processed. Surprisingly, he brings us over some bottled water, and takes the seat next to Jessica.

I pass the time by checking my phone. The silent buzzing alert has been vibrating in my bag nonstop since leaving the house. Scrolling through, I see the gambit of missed messages and calls. Vince, Jean, Pop, Tiny, and even Sunny. I can understand their need to call, just as I'm sure they understand deep down why I don't answer.

With phone in hand, reading through the most recent of texts, the vibrating alarm sounds once more, signaling an incoming call. Charlie. Great. Don't tell me that they've gotten her on board, too. Accepting the call, I stand and leave my companions for the privacy the outdoors can offer.

“Charlie?” I hold up my hand signaling to Jess that I'll be back shortly.

“Lil's? What the hell is going on! Clink just stormed off after getting a call from Vince. He kept going on and on about you doing exactly what he thought you would, and how you've got a hot head with these things.” She takes a breath. “He said that if only you'd let them find Vicky, they'd be able to get Jay out of jail in no time...”

“Whoa! Hold on a sec,” I interject. “What did he say about Vicky?”

I can hear the confusion in her voice. “Huh? He just said they would find this Vicky person and you don't need to get involved. Something about her probably being in Texas. Is Jay really in jail? Are
you
going to jail?”

Closing my eyes tightly and pressing my fingers to my temple I think.
“What the hell does Vicky have to do with all of this? Why would they need to find her, and why would she be in Texas?”
This is all getting so much more convoluted and distorted.
Think, Lil's
.

“Charlie, where are you right now?” I barely have my thoughts formed and linked as I start to verbalize them.

“I'm on my way to work. Why?”

I can't believe I'm about to ask her this. I haven't known Charlie very long, and other than a hunch, I have no reason to think she'll be loyal to me. For all I know, she can go running back to Clink and feed him anything I say. But, I take a gamble.

“There is a woman. Her name is Vicky and she was admitted to the hospital a while back with some injuries from a bar fight.”

I keep things vague. Charlie doesn't need to know
all
the details. I mean, it doesn't really matter at this point how the bitch got a busted nose.

“If the club is looking for her, she must be an important part of what’s going on. I need to find her, Charlie. I need your help.”

“Me?! How can I help? I don't even know who this chick is.”

Well, at least she's curious as to how she can help. That's a good sign, I think.

I take a deep breath. Here goes. There's nothing like asking a new friend to jeopardize her job, her nursing license and possibly Clink’s wrath by helping me.

“If the club can't find her, she must not be in town anymore. Would the hospital have her contact information?”

I brace myself. For what, I'm not sure. She could tell me to go to hell for all I know. I'm shocked by her response.

“Sure... hang on. I'm clocking into work now. Give me a minute to access the patient portal.”

I let out a long, relief-laden breath. I supply her with the name and date of hospitalization. I find myself nervously tapping my toe and wringing my hands in anxious anticipation.

“Here. I found it. She's Dr. Sherwood's patient. He just called in a prescription for an antibiotic and painkiller last Thursday.” She clicks her tongue. “That's odd. The pharmacy information's been deleted.”

My eyes roam nervously around, searching for some kind of explanation. “Why would that be deleted?”

I hear rustling on the far end of them phone as Charlie moves about. “I'm guessing someone doesn't want sensitive information like that in a program that can be accessed by someone looking for her. Dr. Sherwood has an office here. He only flies in for bigger cases, as the hospital can't afford to keep him on staff full-time. If he called in a script for a pain killer, he must have a hardcopy of it somewhere. I'm betting it also has the pharmacy information on it. I need to get into that office.”

“Wait!” I blurt out. All I wanted was a little bit of digital espionage. I wasn't planning on having Charlie break and enter for me.

Charlie cuts me off. “Lil's. If Jay is in jail, and if this is half as bad as Clink makes it sound... I can help. I want to.”

I bite my lip. I'm so grateful for any help at this point, but I’m torn about the lengths for which I'm asking her to go. For Jay, for us, I must ask.

“Thank you.” I tell her... and I mean it.

Charlie commits to texting me with whatever information she finds. I pray it will be enough. Ending our call, I walk back into the cold, harsh building. Jess and Chris seem to be deep in conversation as I approach. I suddenly feel like a third wheel. I clear my throat awkwardly, alerting them to my presence.

Jess appears bashful and conspicuously adjusts herself away from Chris, turning her attention toward me. “Uh... hey, Lil's.”

I eye her. I know that look. I've seen it more times than I can count. She's on the prowl. I don't know what should be more worrisome. Her hating Special Agent Gibson... or her liking him.

******

Apparently booking and processing someone takes a pretty substantial amount of time. Lunchtime has come and gone, with Jess raiding the lone vending machine for anything edible. There's a pretty decent selection to choose from, but I eventually settle on the packaged crackers and a bag of trail mix. True to form, these cops like their doughnuts. Chris appears with a small box of sugary glazed deliciousness but I can't bring myself to eat it. I'm still seething mad, and this new plan, although in its infancy, is still forming in my head.

Jess, on the other hand, devours almost as many as Chris does. It isn't lost on me that she licks her lips repeatedly to clear away any misplaced icing. Chris can't seem to take his eyes of it. I'm going to be sick.

Sitting back and resting my eyes to ward off the sudden bout of nausea requires all of my concentration at this point, and so I let Jess and Chris's little flirt-fest fade from my senses.

These waves of sickness have been creeping in more frequently lately, although I'm sure the stressors if my life haven't been helping matters.
I can't do this alone
. I shake my head as if loosening the thought from the dark place my mind is entering. I won't have to do this alone. I'll make sure of it... somehow.

“Lil's... it's time. He can see you now.”

I focus and rise determinedly, Chris standing in front, ready to lead me to see Jay,to see the man I love so much that I actually can't help hating just a bit for what he's done.

******

THEN

“They'll be heading out in a moment, young lady. All charges are being dropped.”

The tired looking officer behind the desk finally spoke to me. I'd been waiting for almost three hours since getting word that Jay and Tiny had been taken into custody over.

Tiny had used his lone phone call to let me know that they may need to be bailed out. It hadn't happened too often, but just enough times for me to know the drill. I threw on some jeans and a hoodie, and crept out of the house as quietly as I could. Butch was sleeping soundly, deep enough to be snoring, in his old La-Z-boy recliner in the living room,
I Love Lucy
playing on the tv screen. I thoughtfully waited until I was halfway down the street before flipping my headlights on. Butch didn't sleep too well, I'd hate to have woken him. He once told me it was from being used to sleeping in jail. He must have needed to be able to wake up quickly if the need arose.

I let myself into Jay's house and headed directly for the safe in the basement. I knew the combination... my birthday. I slowly turned the dial, first to the month, the day, the year that made up the numerical code to unlock the beast of a safe. Once the telltale click unlatched the locking mechanism, I withdrew the necessary funds. Better safe than sorry, so I estimated and took out five stacks of bound bills. Twenty thousand total.

Driving along the empty, sleepy streets of Chisolm, I couldn't help but think of the irony. I'd been eighteen years old for barely three months. And I'd already had to bail Butch and Tiny out once each. This was the first time I'd had to make the midnight run for Jay, though. Practice makes perfect, though. We'd gone over the drill more than enough times for me to be comfortable making my way through the steps, though.

Tiny and Jay appeared through a large set of doors and neither one gave me as much as a sideways glance before stopping at the front desk and gathering their things. It was inevitable that I'd seen them both without their cuts from time to time. But it hit me as odd, seeing them here in jeans and black sweatshirts, no patch anywhere in sight.

I sat back, crossed my arms tightly across my chest and patiently waited for the stalling to end. They were both doing a pretty shitty job of trying to avoid me. I had the car, I had the keys. Unless they planned on walking home, and I was tempted to make them, they had to deal with me sooner or later. I bid my time.

Facing the music, they both headed over to me, like two little boys caught doing something naughty.

“Howdy, fellas. Fancy meeting you here.” I speak out to them.

Tiny bends down to give me a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, sis.”

I gave him a halfhearted smile, before turning my attention to the hulking man towering over me who's decided to speak. “Can we leave, please?”

There was a strain to his voice, an uncomfortableness that usually didn't make it's way into our world. I was obvious he didn't plan to add any diatribe to his less-than-perfect greeting, so I gathered my bag and stormed off leaving the two of them to follow.

My Honda was small, and I had no doubt that neither one of them was going to be able to fit comfortably within. They never had, but I couldn’t recall having both of them inside it at the same time. The compact car dipped low with the added weight of the two huge men and I felt the added strain on the already weakened four cylinders, but we moved along. Silence. I'm not a fan of the whole not talking thing.