Leave a Trail (Signal Bend #7)(137)
Before he broke away, she pulled his braid, and he thought he’d just die.
Halfway. He could do the rest. He could. He had to.
X
The 1,642nd Day
Show, Badge, Isaac, and Len sat in the Visitor Center. They only had about forty-five minutes. The place was packed today, and visits were being doled out in increments. Without immediate family as visitors this week, Isaac and Len had been relegated to the bottom of the pile.
They weren’t allowed to meet in a group like this. They never were. Show was on Isaac’s visitation list, not Len’s. Badge was on Len’s, not Isaac’s. And Isaac and Len didn’t always get visitation at the same time.
They’d pulled some strings and greased some palms to make this work. They did the same thing whenever they had serious business and needed Isaac and Len’s input. Still, they had to be discreet.
When Tasha and Lilli were here together, the guards looked the other way, also for some consideration.
But this was men talking business, and the guards were taking a bigger risk, too. So palms had to get very greasy.
Today’s serious business: reestablishing Signal Bend Construction. Legitimate business, not criminal conduct, but the BOP wouldn’t see it that way.
Show was describing the plan. “We got the logistics worked out—a lot of the clubhouse now is vacant space, easily converted. We just need to build out a little, and we can keep the important parts of the clubhouse—the Hall, the Keep, the dorm, weight room, office, kitchen—intact. We don’t need the Room the way we did—that can go over to the business. We’re thinking twenty grand to overhaul the building.”
“And equipment?” Isaac did not see how the plan could work. Signal Bend Construction had barely made its nut in its heyday, and they would need to start almost from scratch to get it up again.
“Got a partner wants in, will front for that.”
“Who’s that?” Len looked as skeptical as Isaac felt.
Badge answered. “June Mariano. Hav’s mom.”
“I know who she is.” Isaac leaned back. “You’re honestly talking about taking money from a widow for this? That’s bullshit.”
“She’s got a sharper head on her than Don would’ve let anybody know. He left her a pile, I guess, and she wants to do right by Hav and his family. It’s an investment, Isaac.” Isaac could see in Show’s eyes that his vote would count no more than any other member’s. That had not always been the case. At first, Show and Isaac had led as the team they’d always been, just with Show taking point. But Show and Badger were the team now, and Show had found the fit of the President’s patch.
Isaac shook his head, and Show’s face darkened.
“This vote is already locked in, Isaac. I want you in on this, both of you. But we don’t need it. There are three more seats filled at the table now. And the Horde at home are in. We all worked this together. I want you part of this plan. But mainly I just want to know how you feel about us keeping the name. SBC was your old man’s company.”
Feeling angry and hurt, Isaac snarled, “I don’t give a rat’s ass about the name. You’ve got my proxy. Do with it what you want.” And he got up and left, ignoring Show calling out his name.
He was halfway back to the cell, still fuming and paying attention to little else than his raging, furious thoughts. He passed a dark inset, where double doors led to a large equipment closet. Normally, of habit, his eyes made a quick check there. But he was lost in a sea of change, suddenly, after so long away, understanding how very much about his home would always now be lost to him. How many changes would have happened and become old news by the time he got back. All the things he was missing, and the ways his people and his home would be unfamiliar because of it.
He was lost, and he didn’t look.
The next thing he new, he was being tackled to the ground, his back screaming at the way it was forced to twist, then a line of hot, new pain fired across his throat, and he felt his chest soaking with thick heat.
From a distance, he heard Len shouting his name. He turned to his back and tried to answer, but nothing came out but a wet gurgle.
The last thing he saw was Len’s frightened face looming over him.
oOo
He came awake and knew four things: one, he was alive; two, he was cuffed to a bed in a public hospital; three, there was no way Lilli wasn’t going to find out about this attack; and four, he wasn’t going to get parole in eighteen months. Because he had to retaliate this time. This was the fifth attempt in four and a half years. They’d almost gotten him this time. They would next time, unless he made a stand. His days of trying to stay off the radar and just get the f*ck home were over. Badger had been right about the constantly turning cycle of violence that came from vengeance. But if they didn’t retaliate, Isaac would be killed. That simple.
About fifteen minutes after he’d woken, a nurse came in and checked on him. She’d asked him how he was feeling, but he couldn’t get more than a weird kind of growl past his sutured throat. A doctor came in and checked on him, described how long he’d been unconscious (eighteen hours), the procedure to sew him back together, how many pints of blood he’d needed (five), and other bullshit he didn’t care about.
They’d have him in the infirmary in two days and probably back in his cell in four. Fine. Whatever.