Old Lady (Iron Disciples Book 2) (2 page)

Then she gave me the letter and walked out to
give me
some privacy.

Dear Morgan,

I am so sorry to have to give this to you. It
means you have now lost both your parents now; what a cruel world you have
grown up in. I don’t know how old you are and I pray you have a family of your
own that can help you deal with the death of your father. No one should have to
bear their pain alone and I hope you aren’t alone.

Your father was the kindest, gentlest man I
have ever known. They say that in every person exists a dark side,   and for
the most part I believe that; except when it comes to your father. Take time to
feel your pain and you will be whole again. Burry it and you will suffer your
whole life.

Try to remember everything that was good
about your father. You were his princess and he loved you dearly. There is
nothing he wouldn’t do for you. They say that all girls look for their father
in the man they marry. I don’t know if you are married or not but I want you to
know the man he was so you know what to search for in a future mate, or what to
expect out of the one you’re with.

You know that your father only has one kidney
but we never told the story of what happened to the other one. He was watching
the news one night when they ran a special story about a young woman with three
kids who desperately needed a new kidney. He knew right then and there that if
he was a match he would donate one of his kidneys. He knew the risks. He knew
that there was a chance he would end up needing dialysis to live. His own
kidney may fail him and he would need a transplant himself to save his life. He
knew the risks and it did not deter him from doing what was right. I asked why
and he
said that his life would not be complete
if he died with two kidneys and was not able to donate one to someone to help
them out.

That is the kind of man your
father was and I pray you find that kind of man in a husband one day. So mourn
your father Morgan. Take whatever time you need, then spend the rest of your
days celebrating his life by becoming the best person you can be.

I love you my dear daughter
and I am so sorry your daddy has passed on. He loved you dearly.

Love,

Mom

Present Day…

“Hey…Gimp, what’s your deal?” Eddie
demands, bringing me back to the present. “You going psycho on us?”

“What?” I ask, still a little dazed by
the sudden memory slash day dream. “No…I’m…here.”

“No fucking shit, you’re here.
I
wanted to tell you earlier,” Eddie continues. “But there never seemed to be the
right time to tell an old lady that I just carved up her man. I’ve replayed
this scene in my head a hundred times imagining the sad lost puppy look on your
face, slumped shoulders and teary face but what was in my head does not do
justice to what I see in front of me now. Thank you for that Morgan…thank you.”

It’s not so much the words he says as the tone of his
voice and his smug attitude that sends me over the edge again. Even with my
walking cast still on my leg I can move pretty damn fast when I’m motivated;
and I’m fucking motivated! My blood literally boils in my veins as I launch
myself across the table at Cade’s brother. I don’t even realize I went for my
knife until it’s in my hand. I dive across the hardwood table and slide right
up to Eddie. The high glossy finish makes me slide twice as faster and farther
and I have a fair amount of momentum built up by the time I crash headlong into
Eddie. I thrust my blade straight towards his gut expecting to get showered
with blood and bile but none of that happens. Instead I end up sorta wedged
between the end of the table and Eddie’s body. My face nearly ends up in his
armpit.

He scrambles backwards and tries to get to his feet and
out of the way and is partially successful. As I fight to get control of the
situation I feel a heavy thud on m right wrist and white hot pain shoots up to
my shoulder. I stifle a cry, bite down on my lip, and continue thrash about.

Strong arms grab me everywhere and suddenly my feet are
up, my head is down, and I’m cartwheeling through the air and on to the floor
and against the wall behind Eddie’s chair. In one great whoosh the air goes out
of my lungs and so does the fight. I struggle to sit up, cradling my arm and
fearing the worst. My fingers are numb so I’m guessing it’s broken. I’ve lost
my knife in the process as well. Two bikers tower over me. They reach down with
unkind hands and roughly yank me to my feet.

Eddie swivels around in his seat to face me with an ugly
smile smeared across his cruel face.

“If you’re finished making a fool of yourself I have
something you’re gonna want.”

As I struggle to catch my breath my heart is still
pounding against my ribs and I can hear the whoosh of blood in my ears. As if
things aren’t bad enough, I’ve got major fucking vertigo! If it wasn’t for the
assholes holding my arms in their vice-like grips I’d be back on the floor and
on my knees right about now. As it is I might just start vomiting on the guys
holding me. That probably won’t help my tenuous position right now so I try to
keep my tummy in check; for now at any rate.

I raise my head and look over to the man sitting at the
head of the table; gavel in hand. I do not believe what I am seeing. What
happened to my man? I know what happened; I’m just not ready to accept it.
Eddie is holding something in his hand and extending it towards me. It’s a
piece of red and white cloth…or paper.

“Come on,” Eddie says. “Take it.”

The two goons holding my arms let go their vice grip on
my arms. I walk over to the table and reach out to take it. He jerks his hand
back just before my fingers can touch it. Since I was stretching out to take
it, it throws me off balance and I fall into the lap of the dude sitting on
Eddie’s left. My hand ends up in the man’s crotch.

“Thanks babe, can I get a kiss with that?”

I yank my hand out of his lap and snatch the paper thing
out of Eddie’s hand and look at it. There’s an address written on it.

“You’ll wanna go there,” he says. “Sorry about the
blood.”

I look at the piece of paper again, then at my hands
which also have blood on them. I have to ask the question that has been eating
me alive ever since I walked in here and saw the wrong brother sitting with the
gavel in hand.

“Is he…dead?” I can barely get the word dead off my
tongue and out of my mouth.

Eddie frowns and pauses for effect. Finally he answers
me. “No…at least he was alive when we left.”

I hobble out of the room as fast as I can hobble. Someday
I’m gonna kill that ugly mother fucker and I’m going to enjoy it!

I hobble my way outside and across the courtyard to where
there are several trucks owned by the club. I know from experience that they
usually leave the keys in the visor. I also know from experience that most if
not all the trucks here are stick shift. I poke my head in the window of the
first two trucks and sure enough, they’re not automatic transmission. Suddenly
it dawns on me. I haven’t seen Stacy around. She could give me a ride. I climb
into the first unlocked truck I can find that has keys in it. I sit down in the
seat, take a deep breath and call Stacy.

“What’s up Morgan?” She asks when she finally answers her
cell phone.

“I need a ride but there’s no fucking way I’m operating a
stick shift with one leg still in a cast.”

“So you’re looking for a chauffeur,” she correctly assumes.
“Where are you at?”

“I’m sitting in a tow truck in the second row and on the
end. You can’t miss me.”

“Be there in five.” She says and hangs up.

Ten minutes later Stacy walks up with Shooter in tow. I
certainly did not expect to see him here. Makes me wonder who his allegiance is
with? I’m guessing he’s jumped ship and now supports Cade’s brother.

“So you’re resorting to car theft now Morgan?” She asks
with a snicker.

There’s something up with her. Right away I notice she is
different. There’s an unfamiliar air about her and I just can’t quite put my
finger on it. It must have something to do with the company she’s been keeping
lately. I never had her pegged as someone into bad boys yet here she is. I
would have figured living with her cousin would have soured her on the whole
biker thing.

“I have to find Cade.” I reply.

“Scoot over then. I’ll take you to find him.”

She turns back to her new man and gives him the longest
goodbye kiss ever before climbing back into the truck. She fires it up, pulls
out, and heads to the gate. I’m pretty sure they’ll let us by, given my new
elevated status in the club. Well…on second thought since my man has been
ousted I may not be looked on very kindly.

We pull up to the main gate that is still being guarded
by two brothers wielding AK-47’s. This may be a problem. I decide to act like
the old lady that I am. Stacy rolls down the window and I lean across and
bellow to the closest guard.

“Open the fuck up!”

“Yes ma’am.” He says, and he actually removes the cross
bar and opens the gate for us.

Eddie must have called him and told him to let me out.
Otherwise the guy wouldn’t have done it, especially because I don’t know him.
As I pull out of the Disciples compound I have a million questions running
through my confused mind. Number one is how can it be that Cade is alive? This
was supposed to be a fight to the death with the victor getting the club. Eddie
certainly got the club, but why did he let his brother live? I’m pretty damn
sure
Cade
wasn’t gonna give Eddie that same courtesy. And what’s the
deal with the Outkasts now? I am almost too afraid to see Cade. I mean, he
could be permanently maimed like I said might happen to him. What if he is
paralyzed now? What if his handsome face is grossly scarred for life? Maybe he
looks like the elephant man’s twin brother. Shit, this is fucking nuts. I just
gotta get there as fast as I can and find out what is really going on. He
better fucking tell me the truth too. None of this half- truth or lie by
omission thing either. After all I’ve been through I deserve to know what the
fuck is going on here.

I am so glad Stacy is here to drive me. No way could I
have found this address; not in my present state of mind at least. My wrist
hurts, my leg hurts, and my fucking heart hurts! Then in the midst of my
self-pity pig wallow in the mud another thought surfaces. Stacy must know
something. After all, she is fucking the…well I guess the
former
Sargent
at Arms…or VP, I’m not sure anymore, but she must have been told something in
the throes of passion, either that or in the afterglow of great sex while
spooning. So I turn to my new best friend and corner her like only a new best
friend can.

“So Stacy, what am I walking into here? He is alive
right?”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“You are fucking Cade’s right hand man; yes or no?”

“That doesn’t mean he spills his guts to me the moment we
get alone.” She says, beginning to get a little miffed.

“So you don’t know what I’m walking into here then? He is
alive right?”

“Honestly Morgan, your guess is as good as mine. Shooter
didn’t say a peep last night I swear or I’d tell you.”

“Fine!”

We lapse back into silence until we’re pulling up to the
address. After we park I open the door to get out when she puts a hand on my
arm.

“Wait a second.” She says.

Then she digs around in her purse until she finds
whatever it is she’s looking for. She holds out what looks to be a
real
suture kit.

“I don’t know how to use this.” I say taking it and
sticking it in my purse.

“You can sew a patch on right?” Stacy asks me. “How much
harder can it be?”

Then she hands me a bottle of what appears to be Vicodin
or a similar type of pain killers.