Counter To My Intelligence (The Heroes of The Dixie Wardens MC Book 7) (2 page)

And it was all my fault.

Six months later

“After considering all of the evidence and hearing the defendant’s testimony, we find the defendant guilty of four counts of manslaughter,” the spokesman for the jury said.

My world came screeching to a stop.

All of my time.

All of my dreams.

Gone.

Every single one of them.

Four counts of manslaughter.

I looked at my mother with tear filled eyes.

She looked back at me with the same sad expression.

I closed my eyes, a single tear slipping down my cheek.

“Sawyer Ann Berry, you are hereby sentenced to eight years in Huntsville. Dismissed,” Judge Abbott declared, finalizing this entire nightmare with the slam of his gavel.

My heart hurt.

I couldn’t breathe.

Eight years.

I’d be nearly thirty when I got out!

“Don’t worry, Sawyer. I’ll get you out. We’ll appeal it. I promise you,” my father’s good friend and my attorney, Donald Barber, promised.

I looked at him and shook my head. “Just…just take care of my parents. They’re going to need you.”

He smiled at me sadly. “I will, pumpkin.”

My only hope, once the appeal was denied, was that I’d make parole.

I looked over at my best friend, who understandably felt horrible, and my boyfriend…whom I hadn’t broken up with because he’d become my rock.

Maybe not so much of a boyfriend anymore, more like a huge part of my support system.

The two of them had become my sole source of strength through this nightmare. I couldn’t have made it through without them.

They’d stayed with me, despite what I’d done.

And I couldn’t thank them enough.

Four years later

“Parole denied.”

My eyes closed, and my heart ripped in half.

The last thread holding it in one piece was gone.

Most likely forever.

If she chooses a day on the back of your bike to a day of shopping, then she’s a keeper.

-T-shirt

Silas

“I’m sorry, Silas. It just happened. I never thought we would get back together. But with Sawyer getting out next week, we started talking a lot again, and we’ve come to the decision that splitting up wasn’t something that either one of us wanted to do,” Reba said softly.

My brows rose.

“Reba, honey. We’ve never really had anything exclusive. I understand that you’d want to get back with your old man. Hell, that’s probably why I never did anything past kiss you and spend time with you. I knew your heart belonged to another man.” I shook my head, but raised my hand to rest softly on the side of her face. “It’s okay, darlin’. It’s time to put you first and not that girl of yours. She’s a grown woman now.”

Reba smiled at me sadly.

“You don’t know Sawyer, though. These past eight years have changed her. She’s not the same bright, happy book nerd anymore. My baby is gone, and she needs me now. She needs her family even more now than she ever
did. Plus…when she finds out about Isaac, she’s going to be heartbroken
,” she whispered.

“What?” I asked.

I didn’t really want to know, but the fucking brothers had turned me into a fuckin’ gossip whore.

Not to mention that this had been huge for our little community.

Everyone knew what had happened.

Knew Reba, her husband, and their four kids.

Had prayed right along with the rest of the city that what had happened wouldn’t get any worse for the poor woman.

Then Reba had to go on and prove that the loser Sawyer had thought was hers was a big piece of shit.

“Isaac got some woman pregnant,” Reba said, slicking her hair back. “I’ve been telling Sawyer for years that she shouldn’t have expected Isaac to wait.” She shook her hair. “Isaac is getting married to that woman next weekend. The fucking week after Sawyer is set to get out, no less.”

What a fuckin’ chicken shit.

“Well, let me know if you need anything, okay?” I told her softly.

Reba smiled.

“Thank you, Silas. You’re very sweet,” she said, giving me a hug.

I hugged her back and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“Gotta go, sweetheart. Let me know if you need me.”

Reba nodded and waved as I straddled my bike.

Starting it up with a deafening roar, I rode out of the parking lot and headed straight to the clubhouse.

My mind wandered to that night eight and a half years ago.

I’d been on the volunteer fire department, and had been there in time to see the three kids in the big truck get taken to the hospital by three separate ambulances.

I’d noted almost immediately that the occupants of the other vehicle weren’t going to make it.

They were all dead.

The two in the back hadn’t been wearing seatbelts.

They’d been ejected from the Bronco and laid under sheets to protect their privacy.

The two in the front seat were also dead. The Bronco had caved in like an aluminum coke can crunched under a boot.

The driver’s seat was in the passenger’s space, and blood could be seen everywhere.

Sometimes, being a first responder wasn’t a fun job.

I passed the truck that’d hit them and instantly smelled all the beer.

It was obvious that the Bronco had pulled out in front of the truck.

But the truck, had the occupants not been drunk, might have been able to stop had they been sober.

What a fuckin’ mess.

My phone rang, breaking me out of my thoughts and that horrific night.

“Hello?” I answered.

My helmet had a Bluetooth setup for it.

Then I laughed at the realization of what a sucker I’d become.

My daughter had bought the helmet for me because she hated when I ‘put myself in danger unnecessarily.’

“Hey, dad. Will you watch the kids for me this weekend?” My daughter, Shiloh, asked.

I smiled, knowing I’d do it without question.

I, of course, had to tease her a bit, though.

“All of them?” I asked playfully.

My daughter laughed. “Yeah, all of them. Even Sam’s and Sebastian’s.”

Now that, I couldn’t do.

“You know I can’t watch all of them. They’d eat me alive,” I told her honestly.

Shiloh laughed again.

“Can’t you ask Reba to help you like she did last time?” She questioned.

I grimaced as I swung into the parking lot of The Dixie Wardens MC clubhouse.

“No can do, baby. Sorry. Reba and I just called it quits about twenty minutes ago,” I informed her.

There was a moment of shocked silence as my daughter processed that.

“I thought y’all were doing good?” Shiloh asked quietly.

I shrugged. “She’s getting back with her ex. The daughter gets out soon.”

Shiloh knew the story.

Reba had been very open with her daughter’s struggles.

We all knew the whole tale.

I’d been new in the Benton area, so my daughter hadn’t been here when it’d all gone down.

She was aware of the talk, though.

The town was stuck in the past, reliving memories of that night often.

It’d been a big deal for the town.

The family that had died that night had been celebrating their daughter’s graduation by going out for ice cream.

The parents of the girl, and the girl’s boyfriend had been in the Bronco, with the boy driving.

It’d been raining and visibility had been poor, and the accident had been brutal.

I’d remembered that clearly.

The aftermath had been what rocked the town.

The girl had just been accepted to Columbia University and would have been leaving later that month.

The girl’s boyfriend had already been attending Columbia University on a scholarship for football.

He’d been a star quarterback, and the college community had felt that loss throughout their world.

The real reason, though, that the community kept bringing it up, was because of the parents.

The father had been a teacher at the high school, and the mother had been a teacher at the elementary school.

The same teachers who’d taught the girl who’d killed those four people.

“’Yo!” Loki called, interrupting my thoughts. “What are you doing?”

I looked up in surprise to see four men staring in my direction.

Loki, Trance, my son, Sebastian, and Cleo.

“What the hell do you care what I’m doing, boy?” I asked.

It was a decent question, though, so I’d give him that.

But I was the president of The Dixie Wardens MC.

If I wanted to sit on my bike in the forecourt of our clubhouse in the rain, then I fucking would.

Simple as that.

“You got a call a couple of minutes ago from a man named
Bonus
,” Sebastian said from his position under the porch roof.

I nodded.

Bonus was my contact/handler.

I was a retired CIA asset, but occasionally they had need of my… services.

I didn’t offer them lightly, so they knew to call me only when they well and truly needed it.

I’d earned that right.

And the agency knew it.

I also had a kid that hated for me to prove it.

“Thanks,” I said, getting off my bike and pocketing the key in my jeans.

They all nodded at me as I entered the clubhouse, and I walked straight to my office.

I called ‘Bonus’ back immediately.

“It’s about time,” the man on the other end of the line said.

I laughed. “You told him your name was Bonus?”

Lynn laughed. “Well, you lot seem to like going by funny nicknames, so I decided to give it a whirl to see how I liked it.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Lynn,” I said, taking a seat in my office chair and punching on the computer. “What the fuck do you want?”

Lynn sighed and leaned back.

“You told me if the name ‘Shovel’ ever came back online again, I was to let you know immediately. So here’s your call letting you know immediately,” Lynn said dryly.

The breath in my lungs froze, and my eyes went far away as I tried not to vomit at hearing that name again.

“Tell me everything.”

If the trailer’s a-rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’.

-Bumper Sticker

Sawyer

Officer Donner’s hands ran longingly over my hair, and I squeezed my eyes shut and I prayed.

I’d made it eight years without being raped.

Please don’t let it happen in the last twenty minutes I’m here.

A fight broke out in the yard, and the sirens started to wail as the security personnel started to swarm the area.

“Don’t worry, darlin’.
Maybe we can meet up on the outside, make this real
,” Officer Donner whispered.

I wanted to puke.

“See you soon, sweets,” he said as a parting gift, then left me to finish packing my few belongings.

“You’re welcome, bitch,” my cell-mate, and second best friend in the world, said to me.

Ruthie, Ruthann Comalsky, had been my cell-mate since I’d entered the wonderful world of Hunstville Women’s Correctional Facility eight years ago.

She’d had my back when guards tried to rape me the first day I was there.

And I had hers when they tried to do it to her later that night in retaliation for helping me.

Ruthie was in jail because her husband had tried to beat her to death, and instead of taking it lying down, she’d shot him while he was peeing during one of his breaks from hitting her.

Something that almost anyone would’ve done.

Ruthie was thirty-one to my twenty-nine, and she had four months left on her nine-year sentence.

And I felt horrible leaving her alone.

“Ruthie,” I said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

Ruthie’s face melted as she took me in.

“It’s going to be okay, Sawyer. I promise. You’ll see,” she whispered.

I should’ve known when those words came out of her mouth, that they would only bring bad luck.

Those words gave me hope when I damn well knew I shouldn’t have had any.

“Get out of here already. They called for you over an hour ago,” she urged quickly.

I put one last thing in my trash bag and walked up to the one thing that had saved me these last eight years. The one woman I owed my life to, over and over again.

“I love you, Ruthie,” I whispered to her. “I’ll be waiting the day you get out.”

She hugged me tight.

“I’ll look forward to it. We’ll go for burgers and a beer. Okay?” She asked hopefully.

I nodded weakly.

She grinned, and I let her go.

She tossed me my bag, and I walked out behind the guard that’d be walking me to the front gates.

I felt lost.

Really lost.

I had no clue what I’d do once I got out.

I knew my mom was willing to take me home… but I didn’t have a home.

Not anymore.

I was staying at a halfway house in town, much to my parent’s annoyance.

But I just didn’t think they needed to hear me at night when I woke up from my nightmares.

The scenes that played out in my mind, over and over as if in a loop, night after night.

Although, now, they weren’t all the same horrid one of the night I crashed into that Bronco.

Now there were new ones… more vivid ones that didn’t have eight years on top of the memories.

“Hurry up, girl,” the guard at my side said. “They’re about to come in from the yard, and I don’t want to be caught with my pants down.”

I checked the eye roll.

Apparently, I was the ‘pants down’ portion of his problem.

Then he’d have to protect me since I was technically no longer a ward of this prison.

I hurried anyway, though.

I had a date with Isaac. And I couldn’t wait to see him.

I was blessed to have him.

He’d been there for me through thick and thin.

As had Bristol.

They were two of the best friends ever.

We arrived at the final door that would lead me to the final hallway that led outside, and I swear my heart was about to beat out of my chest.

Not necessarily from happiness, though.

From fear.

I’d spent eight long years on the inside, and I wasn’t sure I would ever be the same.