Fabio's Remorse (Hell Raiders MC Book 5) (4 page)

6

Fabi
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Samurai and I reached Stags Leap as dark fell. Everything in the little town had already shut down for the day, but I finally found a roadhouse still open. From the number of cars parked in the poorly lit lot, the whole town must be there. The sign out front proclaimed the place was called Rita's Rattlesnake. Seemed like an interesting name.

I found a spot to park at the edge of the parking lot, where hopefully no one would bother Samurai, and left him locked in the truck with the windows down a little for air. Just about every sort of vehicle imaginable sat in the lot, from a brand new shiny Escalade, to a beat up ATV. And judging by the horseshit on the ground beside a wooden hitch rail not far from the front door, horses were a regular mode of transportation here, too.

The door opened and a couple came out in a wave of noise, laughing and hanging onto each other. I caught the door as it started to close and slipped inside. The smells of beer, cigarette smoke, and food hit like a wall, reminding me lunch had been a long time ago. A live band played at one end, currently rocking Def Leppard's
Pour Some Sugar On Me
to a happy, wall-to-wall crowd.

I found space at the bar, where a cute blonde was slinging drinks like a pro. "Be right with ya, sugar." That southern drawl would have peeled the paint off a HumVee.

Rowdy laughter and catcalls drew my attention to a group of tables along the wall. A dozen or so men gathered there, but the crowd between me and them kept me from getting a good at them. Whatever they carried on about seemed to have the crowd's attention, too.

The bartender came back. "What can I get ya, sugar?"

I ordered a beer. "What's going on over there?"

She glanced toward the tables. "Oh, that's just the Raiders. They're cuttin' up a little tonight. One of them just got out of prison, so they're celebratin'."

"Raiders?"

"Oh, yeah, the Hell Raiders MC. You must be new around these parts." She gave me a dazzling smile.

"Yeah, I'm just passing through." I returned the smile, hoping for more info.

"Oh, sugar, I'm sorry. Ain't nobody just passes through Stags Leap. This place eats strangers." She patted my hand while she passed my beer over. "Now, if you need some comp'ny while you're on the menu, you just holler." She flirted with practiced ease, and had clearly been behind the bar a minute, even though she barely looked old enough to drink herself.

She went back to her patrons, and I sipped my beer and worked my way through the crowd. A busty brunette in a skimpy tank top slipped a filled shot glass between her tits. A tall, thin man wearing a Hell Raiders cut grabbed the glass with his mouth, leaned back and downed the booze. Someone else passed another shot glass to the brunette, and the whole ritual repeated.

Several of the men I'd met in Georgia cheered, and slapped the drinker on the back. After another round, the man half-staggered and mostly fell into a chair. The brunette made her way to another man and pulled him up and offered the shot glass again.

Crank wasn't at the table, so heading back to the bar seemed like a good idea. The band had gone on break and the crowd thinned a little, so the pretty bartender smiled and came over immediately. "Need another beer, sugar?"

"Yeah, thanks." I took a good look at the handwritten menu above the liquor bottles behind the bar. Most of the foods listed went well with beer, and made cardiologists grin with glee when they went to the bank. "Let me get the loaded wedges, and an order of wings, too."

"Sure thing, sugar. Table just opened up over there." She nodded over my shoulder. "Why don't you have a seat, and I'll bring it out to you?"

"Thanks." Somehow, I doubted her usual duties included serving food at the tables, especially on a busy night. I grabbed the empty table and sat, trying to decide if I actually wanted to look Crank up.

A Hell Raider had just been released from prison, and what I saw in Georgia told me they weren't exactly white-hats. Criminal, or not, made no difference to me. I was hardly the pot to call the kettle black, considering my own past. But I knew myself, and my capacity for violence, pretty damn well. Another contact with the club could well put me on a path into that lifestyle. Did I want to take that chance?

The bartender interrupted my thoughts when she brought my food. She motioned to the chair opposite me. "I have a few minutes, if you're not waiting for somebody."

"Sure, have a seat."

"I'm Katie, by the way." She sat and twirled a strand of hair around her finger, studying me. "So, where you from?"

"Lots of places, and nowhere, at the moment." I dug into the food, and even offered her some. "Like I said, just passing through."

"You just travel around?" She seemed amused by the idea. "You ain't one of them Nomad bikers, are you?"

I laughed. "No, don't think so. What's that?"

"Well, I don't know, but a few have come through here. They generally meet up with one or two of the Raiders, and go on about their way. But the ones I've seen didn't strike me as very nice people." She lifted one shoulder. "Jus' wanted to make sure."

"I'm not all that nice, but I'm not a biker." Time to change the subject and see if I could get some information. "So, those guys hang around here a lot?" I nodded toward where the Hell Raiders seemed to have quieted down a little.

She shook her head. "Not much. Rita doesn't like them very well, but she doesn't kick them out. The town owes them a lot, including this place."

"The town owes them?"

"Oh, yeah. They keep drugs, and gangs, and all that nonsense out of here. The rest of the country is scared of that, but we're good. We go along pretty much like always, without big town problems coming in." Her eyes lit up a little when she talked about them.

Unless I missed my guess, she had some sort of romanticized idea of these guys as knights in shining armor. Interesting.

She waved to someone at the bar. "Well, time to get back to work. If you're still around at closing, I'll buy you a drink." She winked and headed over to the bar.

I concentrated on eating and getting out of there before closing. She seemed like a perfectly nice girl, but she wasn't Justine, so it didn't matter how nice, I couldn't go there. For about the millionth time since I read that fucking letter for the first time, I gave myself a good cussing.

"Well, lookie what the cat drug in." Crank dropped into the chair Katie had left. "Took you long enough to find your way up here, man."

I pushed my plate away, finished. "Yeah, kinda took the scenic route, I guess."

"We got a big celebration going on out at the clubhouse. Those fuckers over there are getting ready to head that way. You ought to come out and have a few beers with us."

"I don't know, man. Wouldn't want to step on toes, or anything."

He waved my concerns off. "It's an open party. Lots of non-members there." With a half-grin, he nodded toward the bar. "I'd say Katie'll be there before long, too."

"I should probably pass then."

"Shit, man, I saw the way she was flirting."

I shook my head. "Yeah, I didn't miss that, either."

"So, what? You got an ol' lady?"

The question gave me pause. "Yeah, not anymore. She sent me a Dear John while I was deployed." No use hiding the truth.

"Fuck, man. That is low." He tipped his beer toward me. "You know the best cure for that shit, right?"

"What's that?"

"Fuck as many bitches as you can. Get her out of your head." Another guy wearing a Hell Raiders cut passed by, slapping Crank on the shoulder as he went. "Look, I have to head out. Follow us out, and at least drown your sorrows. You still got that big motherfucking dog?"

"Yeah."

"Lots of room out there for a dog to run, rabbits to chase, all that good pooch stuff."

I laughed, despite myself. "Well, I'm sure he could use a good run." I stood. "I need to pay my tab. Meet you outside."

Five minutes later, I pulled out of the parking lot behind a few motorcycles and a couple of SUVs. Several miles into the middle of big, dark nowhere, I spotted what could only be the destination. Silhouettes moved in front of a big bonfire, and several smaller fires winked in the night. Light blazed from a big building to glint off of dozens of vehicles.

The minute I parked, climbed out, and let Samurai out of the truck, a skinny hound came bounding up to greet him. After the required series of sniffs, the two romped off together.

Kellen came over, hand extended. "Good to see you, man. Don't worry, your dog will be safe. Blue don't look like much, but he's smart as hell."

"Good to know. Hope you don't mind, Crank said I should come on out with the rest of the guys." Sudden wariness made me aware of the little .25 tucked into my boot.

Kellen grinned. "Nah, I figured you'd be along sooner or later. Come on, let me show you around." He led on to one of the smaller fires. "Yo, Skates! Somebody I want you to meet, man."

The man from the campground came over, with a grin. "So you found your way, huh? Good to see you, Caleb." He offered a fist bump.

Kellen turned a speculative glance my way. "You holdin' out on me, Fabio?"

Skates laughed. "Nah, man, this is the guy I told you about from the camping area. Told you he might show up sometime." He raised an eyebrow. "Fabio? Thought your name was Caleb."

I felt like crawling under a rock. That fucking name was going to haunt me forever. "It is. I have no idea who this fucker is talking about."

Kellen handed me a beer, and proceeded to tell Skates about the damn name thing. "So, man, sorry to tell you, but while you're here, you're Fabio. Even if you did get a haircut."

From there, I met more Hell Raiders, and more 'bitches' than I could count. And drank my share of beer, too. Every little while, Samurai came along to tuck his muzzle into my hand, just checking in, and then he was off again with his new friend.

When things started to wind down, I grabbed my bedroll and bedded down under my truck. I'd been offered space inside the clubhouse, but I'd grown so accustomed to sleeping outdoors in the past few weeks, I doubted I would get any rest inside, especially not in a strange place. Samurai burrowed into my side, and I was out like a light.

7

Justine

It started out just like always. I knew it was a dream, but I couldn't fight my way free of it. It held me captive, like it did night after night, forcing me to watch while it played out. No matter how many times I watched it all, felt it, I still couldn't change it.

"Are you sure you don't mind finishing up?" Terry, the Youth Pastor hesitated beside his car.

"Of course. Now get Lisa home and comfy." I leaned down and waved goodnight to his very pregnant wife, then went back inside to finish cleaning up after Movie Night. It didn't take long; our fifth and sixth grade group was pretty good about not leaving too much mess. I ran the vacuum, put everything away, and locked up.

Even though the church recently installed new security lighting in the parking lot, a little chill of fear crept up my spine as I hurried to my car. I couldn't help taking a nervous look around the empty lot while I half jogged for my car. Being out after dark always made me nervous, but keeping the kids involved in the church meant I couldn't always give in to my little fears. Still, I should have asked Terry and Lisa to wait just a few more minutes.

On the way home, I stopped to pick up coffee at the little grocery store by the strip mall. I hated going there because rough-looking young men hung around the soda machines in the front all the time. I should have stopped at my regular store earlier, but I'd been running late, and now I had no choice if I wanted coffee in the morning. Everything else closed while I sat on the floor and ate popcorn with two dozen eleven and twelve year olds.

As I rushed inside, the half-dozen thugs sitting on the benches smoking watched me, and the hair raised on the back of my neck. The temptation to ask the male clerk to watch and make sure I made it safely to my car hit hard, but on second thought, he didn't look any more trustworthy than the loiterers.

With my little can of coffee in a bag, I hurried back to my car without making eye contact. I reminded myself to walk strong and steady, eyes on my destination, full of confidence. None of that stopped my hand from shaking while I unlocked the car and got in, locking the doors. Relief made my muscles feel like Jello when I safely drove out of the lot.

Still shaking a little, I turned on the radio to try and fill the creepy silence in my car. It worked, since my favorite song came on and I sang along. When I unlocked my door, the only things on my mind were a hot bath and a good book.

Until a hard band went around my neck with a bruising force, and a hot voice whispered in my ear. "Not one sound, bitch, if you wanna live."

My lungs burned with the need for air and my limbs froze in terror, but I managed to nod. All the self-defense seminar stuff from college flooded through my mind. Do as your attacker says, and survive. Don't let him take you anywhere. Make him see you as human.

A rough shove sent me to the floor, just inside my front door. Before I could get to my knees, burning pain sliced across my scalp as I was jerked to my feet by my hair. My back slammed against the wall as the front door closed and the deadbolt clicked into place. I tried to draw a breath, tried to scream, but he grabbed my hair again and started down the hall.

The man dragged me to my room and tied me to my bed. I laid there in terror for what seemed hours, listening as he tore my home apart. Every once in a while, he came back and asked where the money was. When I didn't have the answer he wanted, he hit me. Hard. Then he would leave for a while, only to come back and ask, and hit, again.

I struggled to pull free, but only managed to tighten the plastic things more around my wrists, until they cut into my skin and drew blood. My hands had long since gone numb, and I figured that was a good thing. My legs were useless, taped together and then to the footboard of the bed, so I couldn't even find a way to kick loose the headboard and get my hands free. All in all, I figured I was lucky. Bruises and scrapes healed. He would leave as soon as he found what he wanted, and I would be okay.

By the time the sky outside my window started growing light, exhaustion pulled at me, and I must have fallen asleep. I woke to my pants being jerked off me. My legs were free, at least, but things had gone from bad to worse. I drew a breath to scream, but a fist slammed against the side of my head. There were two of them.

What they did to me was nothing like what Caleb and I did together. They left me broken, bleeding, like a wounded animal. And they came back. Again and again. I had no idea how much time passed before they finally left for good. I cried until I couldn't cry any more. I would die here, like this, and Caleb would know what happened.

The truth would hurt him more than my death. After a long time, I managed to turn enough to get one hand free. I had to make sure Caleb never found out what they took from us, and I would do it. Eventually, I stumbled to the shower. Then I passed out.

I woke up, same as always, sobbing and drenched in sweat, wracked with pain. I sat up in bed, trying to catch my breath.

Always alert, Sam and Hudson stood by my bed, waiting to see where the threat might come from, or if their human was just crazy again. As soon as I could, I got up and went to the shower. After all this time, I already knew sleep wasn't going to happen again, and the only way I could get the memory of their touch off me was to scald it off.

The water went cold far too soon, and I had to force myself to turn it off and get dressed. For the next hour, I double and triple checked every door and window, making sure no one could get in. It was stupid. I already knew everything was locked, and I knew Sam and Hudson would let me knew if anything seemed out of the ordinary. But I still had to check.

Thirst forced me to pause long enough to make tea. Coffee went off my beverage list that night. The mere smell of it made me ill now. I sat at the table to drink my tea, checking the loads in the gun I kept in my pocket. One after the other, I checked all the others stashed around the house.

A few years ago, if anyone said I would not only own guns, but use them, I would have said they were nuts. Right up until those criminals stole everything that mattered from me, I hated guns and violence. I never intended to become a victim again, though, so I had to make sure. Knowing how to defend myself with deadly force was the only way to prevent someone else from hurting me. I saw first-hand exactly how effective begging and pleading and tears were with a criminal.

The sun peeked over the horizon as I finished putting my rifle up. Sam and Hudson stood, wagging gently, next to the door and waited patiently for their morning walk. With my pistol tucked into the waist of my jeans, I went out with them. They never needed leashes, and always stayed within a few feet of me.

Most people around, family included, probably thought I'd lost my mind when I broke things off with Caleb. Of course, I couldn't tell anyone why. All I could do was try to get on with my existence and maybe hang onto my sanity. The nightmares and fear drove me out of the little home Caleb and I planned to share when he returned. I cancelled the lease and bought an old farmhouse at the edge of town. It needed a lot of work, so I had that to keep my mind off the things that scared me.

I took my dad up on his offer to teach me to shoot a gun. He always insisted a woman should be able to defend herself, and I always refused to believe violence could reach me. Luckily, he never asked questions, just nodded and took me to target practice. Afterward, he seemed pleased when I bought a gun of my own.

But I quickly learned bullets weren't enough to keep the nightmares at bay, and loneliness became my only companion at home. So when a colleague mentioned her Rottweiler had puppies, I decided to get one. She convinced me I needed two, so Sam and Hudson came home with me a few weeks later. For a long time, I spent every spare moment with their training. We still worked to keep them sharp and focused.

The only real bright spot in my existence was work. The special needs kids in my class made it worthwhile to wake up every morning. Without them, I might have given up. In the classroom, I actually felt safe. It became the only place I could actually let my guard down a little. The moment the bell rang and the kids left, I had to leave my haven.

Today was Saturday, and the weekend yawned before me like some kind of pit of damnation. I constantly teetered on the edge, barely holding on, between crushing loneliness and the fear that prevented me from going anywhere unless I absolutely couldn't avoid it. It often made me wish I could actually sleep a little. That, at least, would fill some of the time.

The dogs sniffed around the yard, checking the scents left by the night and doing their business. Inside, the phone rang, and I stepped inside to grab it. "Hello?" I instantly realized my error. I never answered without checking caller ID.

"Well, hey there, Teach. I stopped by your old place looking for you the other night."

My face went numb and my heartbeat thudded in my ears. "Who is this?"

"Aw, I'm hurt you don't remember. Sure, ol' Tony was there that night, too, but I was first. That rattle your memory?" He laughed.

I hung up and threw the phone, hard, then vomited, right there on the porch. What did he want now? He'd already taken everything from me.