Fabio's Remorse (Hell Raiders MC Book 5) (12 page)

22

Justine

I almost texted him back at least a dozen times. Every time, I chickened out before I could press send. His text sat there in my screen, tormenting me. I almost waited and went to pick up Dad's other prescription after work, but we had a parent meeting scheduled, so I decided to get it over with on my lunch break.

Fabio's apology caught me by surprise, but I suppose he needed help and had no choice. I nearly refused him, but my heart broke for his niece. What an awful time to be without her mother. But still, he could have ignored me and asked the clerk. He didn't seem the sort to have trouble speaking to women.

God, there was so much I didn't know about him anymore. Like why he changed his name. Or why he would join something called the Hell Raiders MC. Was that like a motorcycle gang? The Caleb I knew wasn't the sort to join things, especially a gang. What happened to make him do that?

His apology made me no less angry for the way he treated me. Being manhandled that way brought back a rush of demons, but to be fair, he had no way of knowing. Would he have acted any differently if he did know? The old Caleb would, but this new man, Fabio, I didn't know.

The day finally ended, and the parent turned out to be a no-show. In the car, I glanced at the clock. The funeral would start soon. On impulse, I headed in that direction instead of toward home. While I hadn't known her all that well, Alexis was always kind to me. The least I could do was say goodbye.

Inside, I signed the register and took a seat in the back. Going up front would have been a colossal mistake. So I found a seat where I could watch unobserved. It felt like the coward's way out, but if ever a word described me, it was coward.

The chance to watch him without having to think, or fear his reactions, came as a welcome change. The military haircut hardly seemed like something a biker would wear, but maybe he cut it for the funeral. He still wore the leather vest with all the patches, even though he replaced his tight t-shirt with a dark-colored dress shirt. The jeans and boots stayed, too, so somehow, I doubted he would cut his hair, even for his sister's funeral.

The pretty young girl at his side must have been his niece. She kept on a brave face, but I didn't miss how close she stayed by him, or the way she frequently touched his arm for reassurance. She evidently trusted him.

Occasional bits of conversation penetrated my thoughts, but they were all about how terrible the tragedy was, so I ignored them.

Then Cecile Turner's annoying voice intruded. "Well, I just can't believe Alexis would have wanted her kids with a man who looks like an ex-con. I mean, surely there were more suitable people to take them."

My hackles rose. The bitch pursued Caleb relentlessly back in school, and made no secret that she intended to have him. By some miracle, he seemed utterly immune to her advances, even when he tutored her. Then one day, she simply dropped it, and moved on to some other guy.

Whoever she spoke to must have replied, but I didn't hear. "Oh, I know. Just so strange. Get this. I told him to call my brother, the one with the landscaping business, for a job. He had the nerve to say something about not having time for two jobs. Can you imagine? As if anyone would hire him!"

"Hello ladies." A deep voice joined the conversation, and I couldn't help glancing around to see who it belonged to. The man standing beside Cecile was dressed almost like Fabio, including the leather vest. One of his friends? "I couldn't help notice your topic of conversation, and just wanted to put your minds at ease. Mr. Reach is CEO of an international security firm. When he said he didn't have time for mowing other people's lawns, he told the truth. Now, if you'll excuse me."

The man walked away. The tall blonde at his side seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place her.

I listened for more, but Cecile and her friend moved out of earshot. A couple of moments later, the service started, and the preacher's monotone allowed me time to think.

Obviously, the guy who shot down Cecile's speculations was Fabio's friend, since he wore the same kind of vest. Had he been bullshitting her? So many questions buzzed through my mind, I barely noticed when people stood for a prayer, then started filing out.

When the time came for my row to go up front and pay our last respects, I ducked out and joined the line already heading for the door. Although I found myself wanting to see him again, I also didn't want to cause Fabio any discomfort with my presence. The new name seemed to be growing on me, I noticed, even if I had no idea why he chose it.

I made it out the door, a little shocked with how late it had become. My mother hadn't called or texted to find out why I hadn't come home yet. Maybe Dad stopped her, or maybe she didn't care. Either way, I was grateful.

Leaving turned into more of an obstacle than I expected. Apparently, the funeral director blocked all traffic until the hearse left for the cemetery. You would think it would be easier to get everyone out of the way first, but I was hardly an expert. The only funeral I attended since Caleb's mom had been a coworker's husband.

Odd. When I thought of him from before, the name Caleb fit. But when I thought of him now, Fabio seemed more appropriate. Anyone else would probably go back and forth at random, or use one name exclusively. But it worked for me. The man I knew as Fabio bore little resemblance to the boy I knew as Caleb.

Finally, the hearse and procession left, and they freed the rest of the traffic. It still took forever, but eventually, my turn came and I headed toward home. Almost eight p.m., and still nothing from my mother. Vague unease skipped along my nerves, threatening to turn into a full-fledged panic.

I hated it. Every time something or someone didn't follow the patterns I had come to expect, anxiety tried to get the better of me. And often, it succeeded. It was only out of sheer stubbornness that I held on most times.

Maybe Dad and Kayla weren't totally off their rockers with the idea I should talk to someone. At the very least, some coping techniques for when it hit would be welcome.

Like now, the vagueness had turned into more specific fears. What if something had happened? Were my parents okay? Logic assured me they were fine, probably just watching TV, or Dad convinced Mom to leave me alone for once. Of course, that had to be it. But what if it wasn't?

The drive through town and into our neighborhood took forever. With every minute, my pulse went up, and my fear grew. I should have called before leaving the funeral home. That would have been the smart thing to do. Then I wouldn't be driving while panic chased me.

Finally, I made the turn onto our street. Every light in our house was on, even though it was barely dusk, and a police cruiser sat on the street in the front. My relief turned to full-blown panic.

I parked and bolted from my car, gun already in my hands. "Dad!"

"STOP! Drop the weapon!" The shout froze me in my tracks, but my grip on my gun never wavered. For a split second, I thought about how easy it would. Just hold on to it, squeeze the trigger, and wait for the end to come. Then I blinked and lowered my gun to the ground, useless. I raised my numb hands and waited to be shot.

"Officer, it's our daughter. It's okay." My Dad came out.

The police officer looked from Dad to me, then holstered his own gun. "Just for future reference, Miss Carson, when an officer is on the scene, coming in with your gun drawn is not a good idea."

"I-I'm sorry. I was scared." I turned to my Dad. "What's going on?"

"Come on inside, honey. I'll tell you everything." My fear grew with every step into the house, but Dad wouldn't budge. He stayed silent until we were in the kitchen. "We had a break-in."

The panic tried to surge, but I fought it down. "A break-in?" Someone trying to steal the TV was hardly the same thing, I reasoned with myself.

He nodded. "It doesn't look like they took anything. Your mother and I went for a walk, so we think that's when it happened. She went upstairs a little bit ago to put laundry away and noticed your door open."

"My door?" My heart tried to shatter my ribs.

The cop interrupted. "Miss Carson? Are you aware of anyone that might target you for any reason?"

"T-target me?" It was them. I knew it. I could feel their presence in the house.

"Whoever broke in did some damage in your room." The cop watched me, intent on catching any hint of a lie.

I tried to breathe, but air refused to go into my lungs. "Damage?"

"I'll fill you in on details in a minute. Can you think of anyone with a reason to target you? Have a fight with your boyfriend? Co-worker that pays too much attention? Someone who's asked you out and you refused?"

I shook my head, trying to ignore the way my vision wavered and darkened at the edges. "Nothing like that." No, just a rapist that kept calling me and reminding me what he'd done to me. But I couldn't say that. No one knew. I had to keep it that way.

"It's possible this was random, but in my experience, things like this are usually from someone who knows the victim on some level." The officer continued talking, but I didn't hear any more.

"What kind of damage?" I had to know.

The cop took a deep breath, clearly uncomfortable. "Your undergarments were destroyed, and it seems the perpetrator may have ejaculated on them. Forensics will test everything, and we'll get him."

"Oh my God." The room spun.

"Until we catch him, you might want to take precautions, like not going out alone."

A buzzing sound started in my ears and refused to stop, even when I shook my head. He had been in my room. Masturbated on my panties.

He knew where I lived!

Everything went dark and I felt myself starting to fall.

23

Fabio

Finally, it was over. I drove the kids back to the house, while Crank followed on his bike. If I expected a chance to just chill for a few minutes, I was seriously mistaken. Half the fucking town was parked on the street, waiting for us to show up and let them in. Some church ladies brought in enough food to feed an army, and shit just went downhill from there.

Tyler was already squirming around from so much time being confined, and after Nicole took him up to get changed, he came downstairs looking for trouble. It only took him a couple of minutes to find it.

Someone tossed a pillow off a chair to the floor, and triggered a meltdown of epic proportions. "
Noooo!
My mom maked that!" He screeched like a whole war party of our Kiowa ancestors, and tackled the offender at knee level.

The poor woman, preparing to sit, fell sideways in a tangle, with a very pissed off Tyler sitting on her, raining blows like only a five-year old boy could. Another woman reached to lift him off her, and ended up catching a fist to the nose. Blood spurted and both women screamed.

"Hey, buddy, take it easy now." I caught his fists and dropped to my knees to be sure I had his attention. "What's going on?"

The anger suddenly dissolved into heart-wrenching tears. The little guy just dropped into my arms. "M-m-mommy! Where she goed?" His voice cracked, plaintive like only a little kid's voice can be.

FUCK!
These kids fucking broke my heart. Yeah, the one I thought no longer susceptible to any damn thing. I scooped him to my chest and tried to soothe him. Some bitch tried to take him from me, and I may have growled a little.

"Everybody get the fuck OUT!" I didn't realize how loud the crowd had become until they fell silent, shocked at my outburst.

"Here, he probably needs a nap." A different woman put her hands on Tyler and tried to take him.

I stood. "Back off. What he
needs
is his
mother
! Not a fucking nap or some nasty stale cookie. I can't give him what he needs, but I can give him peace and quiet. Now get the fuck out of here."

They left. None of them had the balls to so much as look in my direction. Pretty sure Crank showed them out, but I didn't give a damn either way. The only thing that mattered was Tyler, and Nicole, and helping them figure out the shit hand life dealt them.

Scooping up the pillow that started World War Three, I sat on the sofa, still cradling Tyler close. His sobs had let up a little, but not enough. For the time being, I let him cry. It might not have been the right thing to do, but I couldn't think of anything better.

After a while, Nicole wandered in. I patted the sofa beside me and raised my arm, and she lost no time tucking herself into my side, and her tears joined Tyler's. We just sat that way for a long time. They eventually stopped crying, and I eventually stopped having allergy issues.

"Fahv-bio?" Tyler sounded sleepy and stuffy, but at least not crying his heart out anymore.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Why Mommy and Daddy goed?"

Aw, fuck. I could deal with just about any question other than that one. "I wish I knew, Tyler. But I do know they didn't want to. They wanted to stay here with you guys, and they love you very much." I paused for a breath. "Sometimes accidents happen, and people die. It's no one's fault. But we still don't like it." Fuck, how could a kid understand something most adults didn't?

"You weavbe us, too?"

I thought about that one. "No, I'll try my very best not to." Fuck, I wished I could promise them that, at least.

A long time later, after they both fell asleep, Crank helped me get Tyler moved to his bed, and I roused Nicole up enough to get her to move. When I came back downstairs, Crank met me in the kitchen with a cold beer.

"Thanks, Brother." Over the years, we've always had each other's backs, but this time felt more important than anything that came before.

He shook his head and downed half his beer. "Pretty intense shit, man."

"Yeah. I just hope I didn't fuck it up too bad." I couldn't shake the sick feeling the other shoe was about to drop.

"Nah, man, you got it. Got to be honest with kids. Everywhere they turn these days, people lying to 'em about some shit or other." He went to the fridge and grabbed us both another beer.

"Yeah, but telling church people to fuck off might not have been the smartest move." I should have found another way to handle that shit.

Crank shook his head. "They were only here to see and be seen, mostly. The ones who really wanted to show their condolences brought food or drinks, and left. They didn't see it as a social occasion."

"You have a point there. Can't stand two-faced bitches like that." My damn beer suddenly went empty.

Crank stretched. "Man, I'm going to hit the rack. You better, too. Long fucking day, and more to come." He grabbed our bottles and tossed them.

"Yeah, I'm worn out." After he went upstairs, I checked around the kitchen to make sure everything was put away. Tomorrow, I would have to go through all the food those people brought, and figure out what to do with it. No way the four of us could eat that much before it spoiled.

But for the time being, I was fucking beat. I had my blankets spread out on the sofa, and my jeans and shirt off before I remembered I hadn't checked the doors. Skulking around my sister's house in my underwear seemed wrong on some level, so I pulled the damn jeans back on.

Good thing I did, though. The back door stood slightly ajar. The thought of a prowler slipping in on my watch raised my hackles, along with protective instincts I hadn't been aware of before. If some bastard came in intending to harm Tyler and Nicole, I would fucking gut him, no questions.

Too tired to examine the ferocity of my feelings for the kids, I dropped my jeans and stretched out, getting all up close and personal with the lumpy sofa. I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, my fucking phone buzzed until I could no longer ignore it.

Only a few people had the number, so I answered without looking to see who it was. "Yeah."

"Fabio?" A female voice, slightly familiar, sounded small and scared.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know who else to call."

Wide awake, I sat up and glanced at the screen to confirm my thought. "Justine, what's wrong?"

"I…Never mind, I shouldn't have bothered you. Good—"

"Wait! Just tell me."

The breath she drew sounded awfully close to a sob. "I shouldn't…"

"Look, I gave you my number. I told you to call if you needed anything. I meant that." Impatience tried to inject itself into my voice, but I shut it down.

Okay, no mistaking the sob this time. "I just…I'm ashamed. And in trouble."

"Where are you?" I fished my jeans off the floor and started pulling them on.

She made an unintelligible sound, then seemed to give up. "In the guest room closet at my parents' house."

"The closet? Is someone in the house?" I could think of no other reason for her to hide like that.

"Not now. There was a break-in today." The half-laugh she gave raised the hair on the back of my neck. "I shouldn't have bothered you with this."

"Key still under the patio stone?" I pulled my boots on.

"Key?"

"Yeah, the one I used to use to sneak into the house with. Remember?"

"I d-don't know."

Well, shit. "If it's not, I'll call you to come down and let me in. Ten minutes, Justine." I ended the call before she could change her mind. The dark stairs slowed me down a little, but I made it to Crank's door, at least.

I knocked and opened it. "Hey, Crank?"

He woke immediately, like always. "Yeah, man, what's up?"

Fuck, how to explain this one? "Uh, I need to go out for a bit. You keep an ear out for the kids?"

He sat up. "Don't give me that shit, man. What's up?"

I sighed and ran my hand over my hair. "I don't have time to explain. An old friend needs some help." The silent promise to tell him the full story would have to do.

"A'ight, man, just leave the door open so I can hear them."

"Thanks, man." I headed back down, and out to my bike. Normally when there were houses around, I made a little effort to stay quiet at night. I didn't have time for that, now, though. I just started the bike and gunned it hard, then rolled out fast.

The good thing about blasting through town in the middle of the night was the nonexistent traffic. The bad thing about blasting through town in the middle of the night was the cops had no other traffic to look at. It took the local law about ten whole seconds to decide I was a threat and turn on the blue lights.

Fuck. I did not have time for this shit. Still, a pursuit would not end well, and I had the kids to think of, not to mention Justine waiting for me. I pulled the fuck over, even if it went against everything in me.

I turned the engine off and waited for the officer to approach.

"Evening, sir. In a bit of a hurry, weren't you?" He came up beside me.

"Sorry, Officer. My friend called and she's upset. I was just in a hurry to get to her." Fucking stupid. I should have been more careful.

"License and registration, please." He didn't seem very sympathetic.

I handed my documents over, and waited while he went back to his car to run them. A moment later, he returned and handed them back. "Thanks."

"Your sister is the one that was killed in the accident the other day? With her husband?"

"Yeah. That's me."

"Sorry for your loss. Slow it down a little, alright? Have a good evening."

I couldn't fucking believe it, but I wasn't about to question the pass. "Thanks, Officer. Have a good night." I pulled away, careful to keep my speed down.

Fuck, riding down the street where Justine's parents lived brought back memories. Too bad I didn't have the time to go through them all. I coasted my bike into their driveway, shut it off, and went in search of the old secret key.