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He shakes his head at me, or at least I think he is. I’m not sure. My eyes are swollen shut, and everything takes effort.
“You’re no better looking,” I mumble.
“Yeah, well, better than you, that’s for sure,” he laughs. “Wait until you find that girl and she sees you like this. She’s gonna run like a bat out of hell. Then you’re gonna try to crawl back crying.”
The thought of finding Ruby invades my mind now. I have no idea where she went, but at least I have enough money to find her. Sometime in between beatings last night, Prez did confirm that I am walking away with all the money he’d promised, and that he will take care of my mother until she passes.
In the grand scheme of things, I realize the enormity of both of his promises. I wish I could’ve negotiated visits to see my mother, but it all happened so fast, there was no way of asking for anything more.
“Your ride is here, fucker.” Winger alerts me to a car approaching.
Since I can’t move my body or even only turn my head, I wait until whoever is here will make their presence known. Someone’s face suddenly blocks the sun as they’re looking down on me.
“They really did a number on you.”
I squint my eyes, trying to make out who this is. His voice is familiar. I am positive I’ve heard it before.
“It’s Malone.” When he grins at me, I make out the white of his eyes in the darkness of his skin.
I lick my dry lips and try to speak.
“Your teeth are brighter than the fuckin’ sun.”
My voice sounds like I’ve been eating dirt, but he understands what I’m saying and laughs.
Hands touch my arms and legs, and I let out a groan of pain when they lift me on what seems to be stretcher.
“Nice touch with the big van, dude,” Winger praises. “I was wondering how you’d get his big ass out of here.”
The pain is too great for me to comment. It takes forever for them to pick me up and put me in what Winger called a van. I can’t focus on the inside of it, and I don’t care to. I don’t know where they’re taking me, and while I do want to know, the pain in my chest takes my breath away, distracting me for it.
Right before the doors are about to be slammed shut, I hear Winger’s voice.
“Wait a goddamn minute!”
There’s some shuffling around, and before I know it, something is being shoved in my arms.
“For the trip to wherever you’re going, brother,” Winger tells me. His voice sounds emotional.
If I was in better physical shape, I’d hug him. Since I can’t, I blindly reach for his hand and squeeze when I find it.
“Thank you, brother,” I mumble out. “I will never forget you. I will never forget the club,” I promise.
He lets go, and the sound of doors being slammed echoes inside the vehicle. It takes everything in me to lift my head and try to look out the window in a last attempt to see the clubhouse. I am confused when I squint and realize that club members are outside, watching me leave. Some wave, some yell words that I can’t understand, and some just stare. They are all saying goodbye.
I drop my head back down on the stretcher and allow myself to feel vulnerable. As I am leaving the motorcycle club life, I don’t know what awaits me out there. I can only hope that it was not all for nothing.
Ruby
I’ve been sitting in the bedroom that’s now become mine at the house where Devereaux brought me only seventy-two hours ago. I haven’t been able to eat or sleep much, worried about what would happen next. Meanwhile, Devereaux would insist that I needed to be patient.
In opposition to that, it looked like his own patience had run thin. He received a lot of phone calls that he was not happy about. He barked a lot of orders to Malone, and there was mention of someone named Emily. Whoever she was, it sounded like she’d be getting quite the talking to once they were face to face.
I am incredibly tired, but I can’t rest my mind enough so I could sleep. When I close my eyes, all I can picture is my head is Hawk’s face. It soon turns into a mask of death, and I get so scared, my eyes pop open, and I can’t get any rest. Then I start crying until I run out of tears. I end up with a headache. I doze off, but it doesn’t last long. The cycle repeats.
A sudden knock at the door scares the life out of me. It is a lot louder than the usual when they come to ask me if I want to eat anything.
“Miss Santiago, would you please meet me in the living room in five?”
