Through A Glass, Darkly (The Assassins of Youth MC #1)(63)
“How’d you know he had a cheese grater?” someone asked.
Wishbone said, “Because Breakiron took his bag. He was pissed there was only a cheese grater. But he ate the M&Ms.”
Those details seemed to lend color and credence to Wishbone’s story. Anything that backed up my actions was fine with me.
Papa Ewey wanted to know, “Who’s this gash you’re in love with?”
“No gash, Papa. My old lady. I busted her out of that joint. Her and her daughter are living with me now, along with my Prospect. We’re busting at the seams in that house. I’d like to add to the agenda a discussion of using funds to purchase another house that can be used for money laundering as well as saving other poor innocent women and girls who are being forced to marry dirty old men at an alarming rate. I can contribute my own funds from the sale of my house here in Bullhead.”
Papa Ewey nodded. “We can add that to the agenda for next chapel, but a few of us have to go to the Lions Club now.” We were huge Lions Club supporters. They let us use their hall for larger functions our clubhouse couldn’t handle, and in return, we offered protection. I wanted to set up similar scenarios in Avalanche. “Where’s Sledgehammer going to go when you sell your house?”
“That’ll be part of next chapel’s agenda. I aim to take Sledgehammer and Yosemite Sam here with me, if you approve.”
Papa Ewey didn’t seem surprised. He even offered one of his current Prospects, but I said I was plumb full up on those. The meeting adjourned and an enormous load was lifted from my shoulders. Everyone seemed to agree that Breakiron wasn’t the sort of spokesman we wanted for our club. I’d been dreading explaining what happened to him for so long. Now I had to thrash it back to Avalanche to be with my old lady. Papa even gave me a PROPERTY OF patch to give Mahalia, but I thought it was too soon for that. I took the patch, but wondered when I’d give it to her. She might never be ready to be anyone’s property after what she’d been through.
Yosemite Sam wanted to come back with me immediately, but I told him to stay. I didn’t really have any room for him yet, what with being chock full of Morbots and other brothers. I did give him a key to my house and ask if he’d contact a Bullhead City realtor we knew who owed us a favor, and walk him through my house. I didn’t have the f*cking time to put my own house on the market.
I don’t remember when exactly I started feeling uneasy as I drove back to Avalanche. I started riding faster and faster once I passed St. George, risking getting a Fast Riding Award and getting my first ticket in the state of Utah. Dingo rode faster to keep up with me, too. Contrary to popular belief, outlaw bikers don’t haul ass down the highways, tearing it up. In fact, we want to stay within the law even more than regular riding clubs, to avoid unwanted scrutiny. But that day, I just let worries take control.
I was about out of my mind by the time I thrashed it past the High Dive. Dingo was probably wondering what news I’d received to make me drive that way. Seeing Mahalia’s truck in my driveway didn’t calm me one shred. Harleys belonging to Sledgehammer and Dust Bunny were both there. As I parked, I checked my phone. No calls or texts, so logically nothing was wrong. I still felt uneasy. A few long-stemmed dyed carnations were scattered on the stoop. They seemed a strange symbol for something terrible.
I took the front steps two at a time. Sledgehammer met me halfway down the inner foyer stairs, hand held out in a calming gesture.
“Now, we don’t know for sure, but—”
“Where’s Mahalia?” I barked, shoving on past him.
Dust Bunny stood in a group with Kimball, Vonda, and the other kids. I made a beeline for Vonda. She’d been crying, and ran into my arms.
“What the f*ck!” I shouted. “What happened?”
“Mom never came to get me at school,” Vonda sobbed, “so I had to wait for Dust Bunny to get off work at the mine.”
“Oh, hell…” I knew it was over then. Mahalia had been taken by those f*cking polygs. And how would I find out where?
Dust Bunny picked up the story. “When we got back here, the door was wide open—”
“They didn’t even bother covering it up!” declared Sledgehammer.
“—and those flowers were on the ground. We figured they lured her to open the door by posing as a flower delivery guy—”
“—and she’d open it, thinking they were from you—” choked out Vonda.
“—and they, well, took her.” Dust Bunny finished on a pathetic, weak note.
Sledgehammer literally stepped in, looking wider than he was tall. He was puffed with anger and frustration, I could tell. “I rode all over hell looking for a f*cking flower delivery truck. We didn’t want to call you, to interrupt your sit-down at the mother club table.”
Dust Bunny added, “And why bug you when you’re way down there?”
I guessed they’d done the right thing. Hell, I was there now, and I still couldn’t do a damned thing about it. Sledgehammer had done what I would have probably done. All to no avail.
I handed Vonda over to Dingo—she liked and seemed to trust him. As I dialed my cell, I stomped down the steps to look at the offending flowers. I wanted to f*cking stamp on them, but they might be our only evidence, for whatever good that was.
“Carradine. This is Gideon Fortunati.”