Page 9 of Savior
CHAPTER ONE
PRESENT DAY - LATE FEBRUARY
DEAN
Happily ever after… That’s what I promised Vanna. Even if I have to kill for it. Those were my words to her. Words to live up to. I took it upon myself to love, honor and protect her, long before she accepted my marriage proposal. And I intend to keep that vow, by any means necessary. Though, I’m not off to a great start.
Her loving smile whenever I catch her eye, however, tells me that she is mercifully, of a different mind. Her ignorance is bliss, for the both of us.
Slamming the gavel down on the walnut sound block resting at the head of our table in the War Room, I close out our weekly meeting.
Viking lingers by my side as the rest of our MC Brothers file out, off to enjoy their Saturday night. I sink back into my seat at the table, feeling the returning weight of responsibility that being President of the Saviors MC, carries with it.
Viper had been doing a great job of it while I was out of commission. I also took a few additional weeks off for Vanna and I. I almost wish he would have reconsidered keeping the gavel for himself. He even reached out to the organizations we used to work with, regarding extractions and the safe houses for the women and children we once stood guard over. Pending new background checks on all of our guys, plus in person interviews, we should be cleared for duty once again, in the relative future.
On top of that, Viper also set the ball in motion for our second Charter, headed up by our Brothers, residing a bit further South of us. He’d make a damn good president. Fuck knows why he doesn’t want it. Why he prefers to have me in this seat. Especially when my mind has been predominantly focused on other things.
Resting the gavel gently down onto the carved oak table, I glance to my right.
“She back yet?” I ask my Sergeant at Arms.
“Nope.” Viking’s sigh is laced with a frustration we both share. “According to your brother, she’s been vacationing since you and Jason discovered that fucked up shrine in Vanna’s old joint a few weeks ago.”
I stroke the stubble of my clenched jaw, staring at the gavel resting in front of me. Lucinda won’t run forever. Not without Maddie. At least she had the decency not to pull her out of school, and left the kid with her father. The fact that Daniel didn’t run off with her and take Maddie, makes me wonder if he even knows what Lucinda tried to pull. If he has any idea that Lucinda’s in bed with Legion… That is, if the handwriting actually is Legion’s. It’s difficult to say for certain, him having only slipped Vanna his number. But those words… The Party’s Here… And the way the lackey said them that night in the cabin. Aaron Hopper. An unfamiliar name from an all too familiar town… Gila Bend, Arizona. I can’t help feeling like it’s all adding up to Fucked.
What I do know, is that Lucinda is afraid of what we may have found in that house. That much I am certain of. It was all over the news for weeks. Not much goes on in our typically safe, quiet little town. So, when a murder occurs, it creates a buzz for a time. Once the murder of Vanna’s former landlord, Richard Blackthorn, was tied back to Jack Nero, shit got a little crazy. Between Jason and my lawyers, we were able to keep the press off our backs about what Vanna and I endured in my mountain cabin. For the most part. It didn’t stop the articles from running. Fortunately, on that front, things have died down these last few weeks.
The local news is on to the next hot topic. The strange rise in crime in our once safe, picturesque, Bermuda County, for one thing. Not quite our little town... yet. Break-ins are beginning to spread across the county map like wild fire. Presumed to be drug related, considering the influx of O.D.’s throughout the hospitals in our region.
The lead story now, is something deserving of their attention. A missing girl from our county. When that news broke, every MC in a two-hundred-mile radius, including us, the Asphalt Knights and the JoCo Jokers, volunteered to take part in the organized search for her. Not a Goddamned trace of her ever turned up. Her devastated parents came into the Twisted Throttle about two weeks ago. We’ve got her “Have you seen me” posters up in the bar. The police are saying she’s a suspected runaway, now. Which could easily be the case, but...
“You gonna talk to your brother about it?” Viking asks, pulling me out of my darkening thoughts.
I scoff at him. That’s answer enough. There’s a whole lot I’m willing to do. Ever asking Daniel for a goddamned fucking thing, ain’t one of them.
“Okay...” Viking leans back in his chair, bringing his hands up to fold his fingers against the back of his braided, blonde, mohawk style ponytail. “Does Vanna know yet?”
“I think it’s best she doesn’t know yet.”
“Now might be a good time to tell her with Lucinda being MIA.” Viking shrugs. “At least you know Vanna can’t go after her. Maybe by the time Lucinda resurfaces, Vanna will have calmed down a bit.”
He actually has a point.
“Fuck me…” I mutter. “She’s gonna be pissed I’ve sat on this for weeks without telling her.” Vanna doesn’t even know about the explicit photos of her that I removed from the house and burned, either.
Viking’s brows lift as he presses his lips together, suppressing what I know is a laugh. “All the shit you’ve done. The shit you’ve seen. The shit you’ve been through… And you’re afraid of a woman.” He jeers at me.
I glower at him for a moment, before I shoot back with, “I can’t wait until some chick comes along and brings you to your fucking knees.”
Viking grimaces. “Don’t hex me, bro.”
Shaking my head, I lean back in the chair, letting my head fall tiredly back as I stare up at the slightly discolored popcorn ceiling of this old building. It really should be repainted. We’ll have to get a couple of prospects on that.
“I know you got shit on your mind. You try to hide it, but I know you too well.” Viking says, after a few moments of blissful quiet. A rare thing in his presence. “What else is going on? This… I don’t know, unbotheredfaçade you’re putting up for everyone else, isn’t fooling me.”
The last thing I am, is unbothered.
“I’m just fucking exhausted.” It isn’t exactly a lie.
