“We came to make sure you got the message about your club surrendering,” I tell him, pulling a chair around for Nora to sit in. “Spark and Jasper signed off on the agreement just a few minutes ago. None of you can be within a hundred miles of Sons territory. For you, that begins the minute you’re released from the hospital.”
“That fuckin’ little ingrate. Coal would be rolling over in his grave if he knew.”
“My brother didn’t have a choice,” Nora says out loud.
“Sure he did. When are you gonna learn that everything is a choice, girl? Don’t you worry. I’ll fix his little red wagon when I get out of here.”
I snort a laugh. “That’s assumin’ you make it outta here alive.”
“Are you fuckin’ threatenin’ a man on dialysis, Rager?” He bares his teeth, and for a second there’s a hint of his old menace on full display, but it feels like he’s just going through the motions.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I say. “Lookin’ at you, I don’t have to do a thing. Lookin’ at you right now, a full recovery doesn’t seem remotely possible.”
He wheezes something that might’ve been a laugh once. “Don’t bet the farm on that, Rager. I’m a fighter.”
Nora speaks up, her voice pained. “My father thought he was a fighter too. And look where that got him.”
“Calm the fuck down, girl. Your old man died the way he always wanted, on his feet and fightin’ for his club.”
Nora gasps and before she can respond, he shifts his attention to me. “You owe me, Rager.”
“Is that so? What the fuck for, old man?”
“Yeah, since you seem intent on keepin’ the girl, you owe me a quarter million dollars. That’s exactly what I paid for her.” Each word comes out in a pained tone. “I fronted Coal’s buy-in with the cartel for that girl. Three years I waited. I paid, fair and square, and you took her from me.” His eyes cut to Nora and there’s a flash of desire so strong I can practically taste it. It’s buried deep but still there. “Somebody owes me what I’m out, so you’d best get your head around the idea of paying me my due.”
I step forward to stand in front of Nora, so he can’t see her. Then I lean down so I can look him in his tired, sick eyes. “Let me explain somethin’ to you, you ignorant fuck. You bought a woman off a dead man when she was never his to sell. Engaging in human trafficking is a crime. That’s not something I would ever participate in. You risked a quarter of a million dollars of your own money because you believed that you couldpurchase a fuckin’ human being. You bet all your hard-earned cash and lost. That ain’t nobody’s fault but your own.”
I straighten back up. “Just because you’re the kind of depraved fuck who traffics women, don’t for one second think that I’m the kind who does the same. We’re nothing alike, you and me. I’d burn in the fiery pits of hell before I did something that fucked up.”
He opens his mouth to speak and then shuts it again, twice.
Then Nora speaks up. “I want to tell you one more thing before we leave here today.” She’s had a chance to recover, and her voice sounds steady and clear. “I never disliked you, Stripe. That’s the part you don’t get. You weren’t a monster to me growing up. You were just another brother at my father’s club, one more man in a cut. I didn’t run from you because of who you were.” She leans forward a little. “I ran because I didn’t want to be forced into marriage, not with you or any other man. Rejecting the arranged marriage was not the same as rejecting you as a person. It was just that I wanted an opportunity to choose for myself. I don’t know why that was so hard for you and my father to understand.”
I’m watching his face while she explains what she came to say. She’s trying to make him see that she wanted to fall in love on her own, not be in a marriage her father arranged. He doesn’t get that though.
“A lot of women would be proud that a man was willing to pay that kind of money for them. It means they’re beautiful, high value and good wife material,” he wheezes out.
Nora glances helplessly at me. “Maybe club girls would be flattered because that’s how most of them think. They’re very transactional.”
That’s when I realize exactly how fucked Stripe is in the fucking head. He’s clearly spent his entire life in a one percent club that has its own view of women. Beneath all the trafficking, I can see he really wanted Nora, not just because she was the club president’s daughter. On some level, this cold-hearted bastard fell for her but didn’t have enough social skills to court her properly, so he resorted to purchasing her.
“We could have been happy together, Nora,” he pushes out, his breath ragged. And for just a second the mean, bitter expression drops off his face entirely. What’s left is just a sick, tired older brother who’s exhausted from fighting for her all this time. “I’d have treated you right, made sure you had all the pretty things women like.”
“No,” Nora says, her voice gentle. Taking a step closer to his bed, she adds, “Treating me right doesn’t excuse owning me, Stripe. Women don’t want to be owned. You’re good enough just the way you are. You don’t have to buy a woman to get one. That’s what I wanted you to know.”
He turns his head away and closes his eyes. I think it’s his way of completely checking out of the conversation. Nora comes to her feet and when she glances at me, I put my hand at the small of her back, and we start walking out of the room.
She stops at the door and looks back at him one last time. His eyes are still closed. The fight’s drained out of him and he’s just lying there struggling to breathe. He looks very much like just another old man hooked up to life support.
I watch my old lady look at the man that’s haunted her since her father promised her to him. Three nights ago, he looked like the kind of bastard who could take on the world. Now he just looks old, tired, and broken. For the first time since I’d met him, I couldn’t see the predator anymore. Just another man who’d gambled everything on the wrong thing and lost.
She finally says, “Goodbye, Stripe.”
He doesn’t open his eyes. “Goodbye, girlie. I hope you have a good life with the Rager.” There’s something truly gut-wrenching about the tone of his voice.
We walk out into the hall. The second the door closes behind us, I ask, “That was fuckin’ intense. Are you okay, darlin’?”
“Yeah,” she says, sounding surprised. “I think I really am okay.” She slides her hand into mine. “Stripe really doesn’t understand, does he? None of them do.”
