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Authors: A.J. Downey

Tags: #General Fiction

Cutter's Hope (16 page)

BOOK: Cutter's Hope
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A prospect came jogging out of the building and after relieving the box of Cubans of one of the cigars he handed it to the man.

“Put these in my office and get these men settled and comfortable. You get me?”

“Yes, Sir, right away. Anything else?” he asked.

“Girls up?”

“Not yet, Sir.”

“Well, get ‘em up and ready to suck some dick, looks like some of these fellas could use it, go on now,” he waved the prospect off and I straddled my bike, Hope was astride hers and had mouthed ‘thank you’ at me while whipping that long hair of hers into a French braid and tying it off with a band from around her wrist. Her face was now hidden behind the emotionless black facemask of her helmet.

“Fall back where he tells you,” I told her and she nodded.

Ruth got on his bike, a fat purple gold and black Harley, and fired it up. His two boys, Hex and La Croix followed suit. Hex didn’t seem so bad, a regular looking blue collar Joe but La Croix, he was a scary looking mother fucker. The kind of scary you didn’t want to encounter in a back alley late at night. Big, bald and mean looking with a set of blue tribal tattoos across his scalp, he wore his cut over a tee with the sleeves ripped off.

His arms crawled with some scary badass ink in twin full sleeves and his eyes were hidden by a pair of wrap around black sunglasses. He had no flash on his cut denoting office so I was betting that La Croix here was Ruthie’s enforcer. Hell, he had ‘enforcer’ traced all over him. From the set of his shoulders to the jut of his jaw, everything about him screamed that if you crossed him he’d just straight up fuckin’ kill you.

Ruth got his bike going and I sat my helmet on my head and buckled up. He put his brain bucket on after tying a purple bandanna over his shaved scalp and put on a pair of clear lenses to protect his eyes. I was sporting a pair of yellow shooter’s glasses myself. As the two presidents, we would ride even. That was a given.

“Hey Darlin’!” he called to Hope, she nodded in his direction to indicate she’d heard, “Why don’t you ride behind me?” he asked with a wink and she nodded again. I threw hand gestures at Lightning and Radar, my Enforcer and SAA, and they fell in where indicated. Ruth looked impressed and with a nod indicating our readiness, we rode out.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t check on Hope like every three seconds the whole way there. She was tense and there was a lot riding on this for her. I just wondered where it all would lead. For her, for her sister, and yeah even for me. I guess we would just have to see.

 

 

Chapter 17

Hope

 

I was exhausted. It was pushing twenty-four hours since I last slept, and I knew for Cutter it had been the same. I kept my eyes fixed on the road ahead but they kept straying ahead and to the right of me, to the sun shining down on Cutter’s back, turning the orange threads of the kraken dragging the broken ship beneath the waves bright. I knew I was breaking down, that the tired was catching up to me when I found myself wishing we could just stop for a minute so Cutter could pull me into the shelter of his arms.

I was afraid of what, or who, I would find wearing my sister’s skin.
Prostitution…
The word rattled ugly in my head, a whisper from the pervading darkness at the edge of my being that was constantly threatening to swallow me whole if I would let it. The darkness that had, apparently, snatched my sister right out from under me, rolled her, swallowed her whole and dragged her under completely.

It wouldn’t keep her, I wouldn’t let it. There was no way I could let it. As soon as we came up within sight distance of the Sherriff’s office sign, I showed these guys just why it was I loved my baby. With a sharp, angry whine I gunned her, and shot out from around Ruth, passing him by as if he and Cutter both were standing still. I caught a glimmer of dissatisfaction on both of their faces and saw Cutter shake his head ruefully and shout something to Ruth in my rearview but I would deal with whatever it was later. Right now I was throwing down the kickstand to my bike and striding to the door, pulling my helmet off as I went.

I bee lined for the sheriff’s office lobby, my heart hammering in my chest, crawling up into my throat as I breezed through the front door and right up to the glassed in front counter. I set my helmet down on the ledge in front of the old school partition and waited for the deputy behind the desk to acknowledge my existence, vaguely aware of Cutter, Lightning, and Radar hovering in my background by the glass doors I’d just come through. I glanced back over my shoulder and Cutter gave me a nod of support.

Baby Ruth and his two men sat and stood around the bikes in the early morning sunshine, smoking and shooting the shit. I didn’t blame them for not coming in, I doubted they were on the level where the cops were concerned. I swallowed and my impatience mounted as the deputy behind the glass continued to ignore me. Finally, with a gusty sigh, he looked up.

“What can I help you with miss?” he asked and I wanted to throat punch him for the bored tone he used with me. I smiled bravely instead, to hide my irritation and voice surprisingly steady, for how I felt like I was going to fall apart, told him why I was here.

“Yes, you have my sister, Faith Dobbins in custody. I’ve come to bail her out,” he turned back to his computer screen like he hadn’t heard me even though I knew he had.

“Let’s see… let’s see… Dobbins… Dobbins… Oh yep, looks like you’re too late, her boyfriend and his lawyer bailed her out something like two hours ago.” My stomach bottomed out, my heart dropping clean through it.

“What are you talking about?” my voice sounded shocked and hollow and I caught Cutter and his boys going still, their reflection in the glass just losing all movement as if a predator had just gone by, except that I knew the predator was me and what they were really afraid of was me losing my shit.

They were right to be afraid, because all the strings holding my emotions in check had been frayed by twelve plus hours on the road coupled with two years of fervent looking only to reach this time, this place, right here and right now to be told that I’d lost Faith all over again…

That I’d missed her by two fucking hours!? When they knew I was coming!? Oh hell no!

“Answer me you son of a bitch!” I grated, my fury bubbling to the surface, “What are you fucking talking about she’s been bailed out!?”

“I suggest you adjust your tone, Missy,” the Deputy narrowed his beady hazel eyes and I lost it, I hit the glass that separated us with the heel of my hand hard enough that my skin split and left behind a smear of blood. The Deputy jumped and had the grace to at least look a little scared as the blood thrummed through my veins, I could feel my face flushing, my temples throbbing in time with my heart beat.

“Where is she!? Who took my sister!? Who bailed her out!?” I demanded, a buzzing like an angry swarm of bees filling my ears. I felt Cutter coming up behind me saw his reflection nearing, but held my ground.

“Answer me!” I snapped.

“I don’t have to tell you that, what’s more I won’t tell you that. You should ask your sister,” he sneered from behind the safety of his glass and I hooked a fist into it, the glass spider webbing and cracking, Cutter was suddenly there, arms hooking under my arms, hands locking behind my head in a Full Nelson as I thrashed.

“Nope, come on Baby Doll, time to take a breather!” he said in my ear, then shot back over his shoulder, “Lightning, Radar, see what you can find out please while I take my girl here for a time out.”

Cutter dragged me out into the muggy heat of the Louisiana morning and turned me loose. I stumbled and rounded and threw a wild punch out of pure fucking anger and adrenaline which he easily evaded which just seemed to piss me off more, so the punch turned into a backwards elbow strike which he blocked followed by another hold, this one better than the last but much more primitive. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, pinning my arms to my sides and I just doubled over and screamed my fury and injustice into the bright, sunny, and overly cheerful morning air. Birds fell silent, Ruth and his boys who had been laughing at the spectacle I’d been making, had the smiles wiped right off their faces.

I sagged in Cutter’s grip and he lowered me gently to my knees, to the cement as I sucked in enough air to let out another outraged scream.

“Jesus Christ her sister fucking die or something!?” one of Ruth’s men, the skinnier one, demanded taking a drag off his cigarette.

“Shut the fuck up Hex,” Ruth ordered, a sympathetic look flickering across his face before it was swallowed by his stoicism.

“Shh, it’s okay Baby, I got you,” Cutter’s voice was warm against my ear as he pulled me tight, back into his body and rocked me.

“Not again, I was so close! So close! I can’t do this anymore!” I whined and okay, after two years and the week I’d just had, I sort of snapped in two and was having a fucking melt down. But after eighteen years of being sister-mom and fucking up so badly, I figured hey, I’d earned this, I would pull myself up by the boot straps after it, put on my fucking big girl panties and go find my fucking sister.

At least that was what Cutter murmured in my ear, and damned if he wasn’t right. I listened to him, to what he was saying, taking his orders and grabbing onto them with both hands. I let Cutter become my anchor, holding me firmly on the ground when all I wanted to do was explode into the ether and just give up.

“Good, good, deep easy breaths, Darlin’. I need you to hold it together, I need you to think; what’s more, Faith needs those things from you.” I nodded numbly and sniffed. Cutter turned me to face him and when he was sure I wasn’t going to hit him or do anything else dangerous he smoothed my tears away with his thumbs and kissed my forehead. My eyes drifted shut at the reverent touch I was sure I didn’t deserve.

The front door to the police station grated and Lightning and Radar came out. Lightning carried my helmet in one hand and neither one of them looked happy. Two deputies came out with them and stopped a ways up the walk, letting Lightning and Radar finish the trip towards us physically unescorted.

“Come on Hope, we gotta get moving before they arrest you,” Lightning grated and handed down my helmet.

“They give you anything?” Cutter asked helping me to my feet.

“Not a damn thing,” Radar said and spit on the ground.

“Let’s get a move on, Darlin’, before Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum get any ideas about that luscious ass of yours,” Ruth said and puffed on his cigar. Grinning around it, he shot the two deputies a one fingered salute.

“Might have gotten some answers if she didn’t throw such a damn tantrum! Also might’ve got some if she kept better company,” the deputy on the right commented. He was tall with a deep brown mustache and curly brown hair. I cocked my head to the side and hoped and prayed that this office would contact me for work. That way I could tell their superiors to fuck right off and why.

Instead of popping off again I thrust my helmet on my head, Cutter escorting me to my bike. I climbed on, starting her up.

“You good to ride?” he asked me and I jerked my head in a nod. I wasn’t really, but I had to be.

“C’mon y’all. You need some food and rest before you do anything else,” Ruth said but he was looking at me. I couldn’t say I disagreed.

We rode back to his compound and the further we got from the Sherriff’s department, the worse I felt for my outburst. God I was just failing Faith and fucking up left and right. It was only a matter of time before I failed Char too… hell, I was already failing Char too if we were keeping serious score. I’d lost her big sister, and let her slip through my fingers yet again.

I beat myself up the whole way back to the Voodoo Bastards compound but at the same time, I was also already devising a way around the fucktards at the Plaquemine’s Parish Sherriff’s office. I shut off my bike and put down the kickstand startled to realize I didn’t really remember the ride back here. I’d been lost in thought the whole way and just sort of on auto pilot. Fucking dangerous. I sat astride my bike staring at the tank and the still and silent gauges while Cutter pulled off my helmet.

“Shit, Babe. I hate seein’ you like this,” he said, tone heavy with something akin to regret.

“I’m going to find her,” I said, “And I’m going to kill whoever has her. Do you understand what I’m saying?” I asked and my voice sounded bitter, hollow and scary, a foreign facsimile of what my voice should be. The woman speaking right now was dispassionate and full of discord.

“Come on Hope, come with me; come sleep with me. We’ll deal with all of this after we’ve had a few hours,” Cutter tugged on my hands and I was puppet to his master and glided to my feet as if pulled by invisible strings. He led me from behind, his hands on my shoulders as he urged me into the cooler twilight of the Voodoo Bastard’s club.

It looked like any ol’ bar with couches and the like here and there. Gaming tables for blackjack and poker, a pool table, hell I think there was even a roulette wheel… It was all sort of a blur. Cutter led me to a row of cots where some of his men were already wracked out. He sat me on the edge of one and I collapsed, staring at his handsome face as he set to work pulling off my boots.

I looked on, almost detached as he worked first one then the other off my feet. He put his hands on my knees and captured my eyes with his, sighing out. I leaned forward and kissed him. I had no words right now to express how grateful I was that he was here with me, helping me, and so I kissed him. A gentle press of lips full of reverence and just everything I had in me that I couldn’t say right then. Partially because there were eyes on us in the form of some of the Voodoo Bastards, and partially because I was a little scared of what I was feeling. It was just too soon and so big and I didn’t know what to do with it.

“Hmm,” Cutter made the sound and flashed me a brief smile, while he unzipped my jacket and peeled it off of me, carefully stripping me of enough to be comfortable but not so much I should be worried. Not that I really was. The guys wouldn’t have much left to beat once I got done with any would-be attackers myself.

BOOK: Cutter's Hope
13.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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