Falling For Crazy (Moroad Motorcycle Club) (25 page)

She swallowed and nodded.

His gaze went to her lips. His chest expanded. He pivoted and walked away. She followed him two steps wanting to bring him back and stopped. Her vision narrowed and dimmed until she could only focus on his vest in the long hallway.

"Jacko?" she called.

He stopped and refused to turn around and face her.

She pried her tongue off the roof of her mouth and moistened her lips. Her upper body ached. She needed him close, his breath against her face. "I
was
in."

His back stiffened, and he strode to the doors, pushing his way outside. She curled into herself and squeezed her eyes closed, gasping for breath. If he loved her the way she needed to be loved, he would've never walked away.

"Miss O'Harris?" A soft voice spoke beside her.

Amy pushed herself to her feet and lifted her chin. "Yes?"

"I'd like to apologize. I was the one who let Jacko in to say his goodbyes. I went against procedure and if you'd like to fill out a grievance—"

"No. I'd like Jacko put back on the list of approved visitors for my sister." She faced the nurse and sniffed, gaining control of herself. "But, I'll warn you. If I ever find out you let someone not on the list inside this institution again, I will come after your job and remove my sister. Her safety is my biggest concern. I hope I don't have to repeat myself."

Carla shook her head. "No, ma'am."

Amy walked into Sarah's room and shut the door. Her sister remained in the same spot perched on the side of the bed. She sat beside Sarah, put her arm around her sister's slim body, and leaned shoulder to shoulder.

They'd sat in the same position their whole life. When they watched a horror movie late at night. The day they found out her mom had a heart attack and died. The first time a boy broke up with Sarah in the eighth grade at her first after-school dance. Even when Amy lost the Federal Junior Miss Pageant when she was ten years old to Rochelle Gates, it was her sister who came and sat beside her and called Rochelle a big bitch to her face in her honor.

"I guess you know what's been happening since I saw you yesterday." Amy sighed. "My heart hurts. I love him, and he's crazy enough to believe he's doing me a favor by walking out of our lives."

She waited, hoping and praying Sarah would give her advice and tell her what to do. No words of wisdom came.

"I don't know what to do, sis," she whispered.

The sister she knew would never return. It only took her a day of looking into Sarah's eyes to realize her soul was missing. There was no recognition. Sarah looked like herself, but her eyes were dead. There was nothing behind them. She'd tried and tried to bring out a reaction, a shift in her gaze, a flutter of emotions.

She had to face the future.

Sarah was gone.

Jacko was gone.

She held in her cry, so not to frighten her sister. How did everyone expect her to go on when it felt like she was dying?

"W
hat the fuck is wrong with Jacko?

"He ain't talking."

"He's going to tear the whole house apart."

"Maybe killing Flores and Quijada finally done him in."

The last of the carpet came off the floor in a broken, rotten chunk, sending minuscule fibers floating in the air. Jacko threw the remnant behind him. He'd listened to Bear, Johnson, Gunner, and Stache bullshit for the last two hours while they half-assed helped him gut out the house. He wanted peace and quiet.

"Someone's going to throw his ass in a psych ward one of these days," said Gunner.

Jacko charged, tackling Gunner to the ground. He pulled back his arm and punched him in the face. The contact radiated up his arm, energizing him.

Gunner rolled Jacko over, scrambling to his feet. Jacko followed him up, landing another punch. Gunner retaliated with a fist in Jacko's eye. He grunted at the impact. Adrenaline pushed him forward, both arms swinging.

Blow for blow, they exchanged punches. Jacko kicked out, sweeping his foot behind Gunner's knee, taking him back to the dirty plywood floor. He gripped Gunner's thick neck with his hand.

One.

Two.

Three, solid hits and Gunner still continued to fight for the upper hand. Jacko squeezed Gunner's throat. The muscles under his fingers constricted, struggling for breath.

"Let him go, man." Bear pulled on Jacko's arm. "You kill him, Prez will tear your patch off for murdering his vice president."

Gunner snuck in another punch, clipping Jacko jaw and splitting his lip. He spit on the floor and pushed himself off Gunner, deflecting the swinging leg trying to put him back on the floor. Breathing heavy, he ran his forearm across his mouth, wiping the gushing blood from his lip across his face.

Johnson planted his hands on Jacko's chest and pushed him to the other side of the room. Jacko remained silent, drawing air into his screaming lungs.

"One of these days, motherfucker, I'm not going to hold back when you attack." Gunner's eye already swollen shut, he slurred his words through two inflated lips.

Jacko fingered his cheekbone. His pulse beat in his face. He laughed, the sound painful to his ears. He probably looked as bad as Gunner.

"What the hell is going on in your head?" Bear stood in front of him, blocking Gunner from his view.

Jacko rolled to his tiptoes and back on the heels of his boots. "I need to get the house cleaned up."

"That's what we were doing until you decided to throw down with Gunner." Bear exhaled loudly. "I think you need to call it a day. Since you're staying in Merk's old travel trailer at Cam's place, we can all head over and sit around the fire. We'll drink our problems away."

He shook his head. "You guys take off. I'll finish up the rest myself and head back in a while."

Gunner walked out the door followed by Johnson and Stache. Bear stayed behind and placed his hand on Jacko's shoulder.

The personal contact too much to handle tonight, he shrugged Bear off and stepped away. "Go on. I'll be riding out of here in a couple of hours."

"You sure, man?" Bear frowned, eyeing Jacko's face. "He split your lip wide open. You might want Lola to put a couple stitches in it."

He ran his tongue over the slice on his lower lip and licked at the blood flowing down his chin. "I'll live."

The motorcycles outside roared to life. Bear hesitated. "Hate leaving you like this, brother."

"Life is fucked up, Bear. There's only one way to see the silver lining in the clouds." He pulled a baggie of weed from his vest pocket. "In a few minutes, I'm not going to care if you're here or not. I'm going to enjoy a toke, do a little work, and sleep like a fucking baby tonight."

"That's what I want to hear." Bear broke out in a grin. "Call if you need anything."

"Will do. Will do. Will do." Jacko laughed, pulling out a joint he'd made earlier in the day. "Now get your ass out of here and make sure Gunner don't dump his bike because he can't see through his black eye."

A minute after the house was quiet again, Jacko stepped over to the nearest wall and sank to his ass on the floor. He let his head fall back and groaned. He was getting too damn old and beaten to fight the way he used to do. The spent energy refused to calm him, and the adrenaline rush only put him in a funk.

He took out his lighter, lit the joint and inhaled, holding the smoke in his lungs until his body tingled and the pain numbed. Four hits later, the voices in his head quieted to a low murmur.

It had been five days since he ran into Amy at the institute, and he missed her like hell.

Meese watched over Amy at night at the motel, and he had the Moroad women stopping by at different times of the day to check in on her. According to Lola, Amy refused to talk to them about him or her sister and claimed she was doing okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

He hated that she moved on with her life. He hated that she looked for a job every spare moment she had away from the institute. He hated that she visited Sarah every fucking day for hours at a time, and he couldn't join her. He hated that she lived at the motel surrounded by his MC brothers.

He hated her for letting him leave without fighting or stopping him.

T
he Moroad women sat on the picnic tables swatting gnats away from the leftover food in front of them. A Nazareth song played from a pair of homemade speakers holding a keg. Every few minutes, one of the men would shout out their opinion about whatever Cam talked quietly about during the meeting, and the women would turn their heads, check to make sure a fight hadn't broken out and go back to chatting with each other.

Amy sat at the end of the picnic table highly aware of her surroundings and disconnected from the bond the others shared within the club. In two weeks, she'd find somewhere else to live. The Mining Supply Company hired her full-time for her old job of doing inventory and ordering material for the silver mines worldwide. All she needed to do was wait for her first paycheck, and she'd use every cent to rent a cheap apartment in town. If she couldn't find a place, she'd go to the Inn and rent a room until she saved enough money.

"How was Jeremy when you visited him in prison, Christina?" Lola poured Fireball in her apple cider.

Amy pulled herself out of her plans and focused on the conversation. Now that she knew Jacko wasn't in prison, she understood everyone's concern over Jeremy being locked up. He was a good kid, and he'd never had to deal with the stress of being incarcerated.

Christina shrugged. "He
says
he's okay, but he had bruises on his face, and his knuckles were swollen when I got to see him this time. Cam said to ignore the obvious injuries, but that's all I see when I close my eyes. He looked so young and old at the same time."

"He'll be okay." Lola paused. "The other members have all done time, again and again, and most of them make it back out."

"Except, Half-rack." Katie stuck out her lower lip. "And, Jacko. He never was the same as when he went in."

Amy's chest tightened. None of these women knew the real Jacko. There was more to him than the crazy things he'd picked up along the way during his incarcerations. Underneath the laughter, the erratic movements, periods where he zoned out or left completely, he was a man who deeply loved and would die to protect those important to him.

"There's been a lot of Moroad members who never came out of prison. The list of deceased is as long as the active members' list." Christina expelled her breath. "Cam acts as if he's gone on vacation."

"Okay, girls." Lola stood. "Let's change the subject and get this food wrapped up and put in the fridge before the bugs get any worse."

Amy went through the movements of helping the others, her mind on Jacko. She'd overheard he was staying in a travel trailer on Cam's property, but in the three weeks since he'd left, he hadn't come to any of the parties at the motel or attended any of the meetings. While tonight's gathering was the first she'd attended since Jacko left, she'd kept vigil behind the curtain in the motel room to watch for him.

On her second trip back from the kitchen, Amy's step faltered. The hair at the back of her neck tickled and she searched the area. Something was different.

The men still surrounded the fire, except the circle grew tighter. Voices lowered. Faces no longer peered at Cam with interest, but concern. The seriousness after a laidback evening warned her that the change in the bikers had to do with her leaving for the kitchen and giving them time to talk about Jacko.

No one ever said a word about why he never attended the meetings or how he was doing. Did they even care? What if he'd done something stupid and got himself in trouble? What if he was wrong, and Los Li had more connections than he originally thought and more gang members decided to pay him back for killing Sarah's killers?

She walked over to the group. Conversation halted on her arrival.

"Meeting is almost over, Amy. Give us a few more minutes." Cam pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

She looked at each of the men. Most of them avoided her gaze. Cam and Bear seemed to grow bigger, wider, and scarier as if they'd resort to violence if she refused to follow their president's instructions to leave. She stubbornly held her ground and refused to let them intimidate her.

She was tired of being scared and letting others frighten her. Jacko had made her world safe and protected Sarah. Repudiating what Jacko had done for her would be stupid on her part.

She folded her arms. "Where is he?"

"Who?" Bear lifted his brow, his facial expression hidden in his full, bushy beard.

"Jacko." She stepped toward Cam. "Is he staying at your house?"

Cam shook his head. "Nope."

She turned to Bear. "Tell me where he is."

"Can't do that, honey. Jacko's orders." Bear's beard moved, an obvious sign he'd rolled his lips. "He needs a break from life, and the club is giving him the time he needs to get a grip."

"Are you serious?" She clamped her teeth to keep from screaming at them. They were no better than Jacko's parents leaving him when he needed someone in his corner the most. "That's the way you treat him?"

"Watch your mouth, woman," Cam muttered.

"No." A wild, crazed, absolutely insane possessive need to get to Jacko flooded her. "Tell me where he is or I swear I'll kill every single one of you who won't tell me where the fuck I can find him."

The men stared in shock and then amusement. Disgusted, she turned around and hurried to her motel room. They'd learn not to treat Jacko like he was crazy.

An arm wrapped around her waist and her feet left the ground. "Hold up."

She kicked out at Bear's legs behind her and scratched his bare arm. "Let me go."

"Not until you tell me what the fuck you're doing spouting off at the president and running around half-cocked," said Bear.

Her body slumped against his arm, and he put her on the ground. She turned and faced him. "You don't know Jacko. Everyone lets him do his own thing, never questioning what's really going on. You think he's insane, and he's not. He might have some odd habits, but he has them for reasons you and I could never imagine."