“Fuckin’ obvious,” Tempest states. “For one, he was born out of incest, and they could easily have been caught out on the lie. For two? Well, he’s re… umph!” He bends over to recover from Freak’s hand in his stomach. Once he can breathe again, he continues, “He’s special, and Doc might be embarrassed.”
“No prize for you,” Bullseye states. His jaw clenches. “Just think about the benefits of someone who wouldn’t be missed, who might just be a non-verbal kid who couldn’t spill the beans on anything that might be done to him.”
It takes me a second, but then I’m out of my chair, leaning over my president’s desk. “He wants to fuckin’ sell him.”
Bullseye points his finger at me. “Game, set, and fuckin’ match. Sit down, Short, I ain’t the person you should be taking it out on.”
But I can’t sit down, I’m too riled up. “There’s fuckin’ more, isn’t there?”
He nods, and his mouth works as if he’s trying to get a bad taste out of it. “Doc’s man-to-man talk meant he took for grantedthat I was of the same cut as the fuckin’ assholes in the MDMC. He didn’t come right out and say it, but I sure picked up he had an unnatural interest in Trip, and how he could provide a payday.”
Freak exhales loudly. “Sounds like we rescued the kid in time.”We did?I think that was all down to me.
Saint holds up his hand. “Hang on. Was that what the hot chocolate was all about? Doc wasn’t going to abuse him himself, but drug him so he could be taken?”
“Now you win the soft toy.” Bullseye looks approvingly at his VP. “Seems Bronwyn got him out of there just in time.” He pauses, then adds, “Or not.”
“Or not?” I slam my fist on his desk. “What are you fuckin’ talking about?”
In an emotionless tone, Prez carries on, “There’s the ultimatum Doc gave us, remember? Find the boy, return him to him, or he’ll withdraw all his services from us.”
I see red. I turn and smash my hand through the wall, uncaring that I draw blood. “You seriously considering that?” I ask, my eyes flaring, fists ready to take down my prez.
For that, I get a glare that would turn a lesser man than me into stone. “What kind of a man do you think I am?” he barks.
“Makes sense, Trip’s just a commodity to him. He didn’t give a damn about the kid when we were at the house, Prez,” Tempest reminds him. “Couldn’t get him out of his sight quick enough. There’s no fuckin’ love there.”
“He doesn’t want Bronwyn to interfere.” Thoughtfully, I give Prez as steely a gaze as he gave me and am rewarded with a dip of his head. “That’s why he hurt her. He hoped she’d run. He’s got no intention of letting her go back.”
Tempest growls as if he’s catching on. Freak’s eyes narrow.
But it’s Saint who completes my thoughts. “Bronwyn is the only person who knows the truth, and who could question why Trip was no longer around.”
Bullseye claps his hands. “That’s what I was thinking.”
“So why didn’t you just start with that?”
Bullseye glares at me again. “Because I thought my idea might have been batshit crazy. I know I’m supposed to be omnipotent and all that, but I don’t have the monopoly on logical thinking. Saint, Tempest, Freak, you’re my officers, and I wanted your opinions. And you, Short, because you’re the closest to the girl…” He pauses. “And if you want to know the rest of my thoughts, I think Bronwyn could well be in danger.”
I purse my lips. It’s not that I disagree with him, but I’m not sure how.
He answers my unspoken question. “How’s she expected to move away? Doc’s supporting her studies. Another year and she could have been applying for jobs that would take her out of state, no eyebrows raised when she left her family situation.”
“So why didn’t he wait?” Saint asks, but replies to himself, “Because someone’s putting pressure on him.”
What Prez is suggesting is that Bronwyn’s life is threatened. “Doc’s a perverted asshole, but I can’t see him taking Bronwyn out, not personally.”
“But he might contract out her demise,” Freak inputs, his tone enough to send shivers down any sensible man’s spine.
“If he’s in deep with the Mojave Devils, they wouldn’t hesitate at murder.” I should know, I was one they’d already attempted to kill. Only an empty tobacco pouch saved me.
Prez nods slowly. “We might be wrong, there might be an innocent explanation, but a bad smell often means something is rotting.” He scrubs his face with his hands. “I might be wrong linking the Mojave Devils with him, but if not them, there are other players who play the same trafficking game. Thereare coincidences, but there’s also a lot of things that add up. Which is why I’m inclined to agree with Short’s proposal to put Bronwyn and the kid under our protection. And there’s no way under the club laws that we can do that – unless she could pay for our services, which she quite obviously can’t – other than Short claiming her and Trip as his ol’ lady and son.”
Saint looks at me, then at Prez thoughtfully. “Would still need to be a full club vote.”
“If they hear all the facts, then I don’t think anyone would have a problem with it,” I state, still chilled at the thought of someone permanently removing Bronwyn from the picture.
“Facts?” Bullseye chuckles. “A mismatch of information we’ve patched together, and we don’t even know if it’s in the right order.” He sighs. “But I’m of the mind that it’s the less risky route to let the members in on our assumptions. I’d rather be wrong than right and not have done anything to prevent it. And if we’re barking up the wrong tree, then Short…” The grin he gives me is more chilling than any of the other expressions he’s thrown at me this morning. “Short will have been landed with an ol’ lady and kid for no reason.”
Now he’s the one who’s wrong. The idea of snuffing out Bronwyn’s shy smile, taking away her chance to ever know how a real man would act toward her, twists my gut. Equally terrifying is the thought that someone could steal Trip away, and all he’d have to look forward to was a very painful and demeaning future. Just the idea makes me want to vomit and emphasises how much I care what happens to them both.
That I’d never wanted to be tied down with a ball and chain comes so far down the pecking order as to be able to be dismissed out of hand.
Bronwyn’s mine.
I raise my chin and meet Prez’s eyes. “I won’t be landed with a burden. I’d be honoured to give Bronwyn my property patch.”
His fist meets the table. “Then let’s call church and get the formalities sorted. There’s other related shit we need to get a vote on. Who, if anyone, still wants Doc around, and if no one does, how quickly we can get him into the barn and get the fuckin’ truth from the horse’s mouth.”
