Descend, page 17
His eyes spark. “Chopper left five minutes after you got on the phone with Gary, and since he left me in charge of you, I’d say I’m head and shoulders above every other man in your life. Tell that to your boyfriend when he calls. And don’t leave out the part where I’ll be right here, with my eyes all over you.”
~42~
I thought I was done with puking for the day but Warren brought out the best of what my stomach had to offer. Unlike Matt, Warren didn’t bring me water or even attempt to wipe my face. When I emerged from the bathroom he was kicked back on the couch, scrolling through his phone with the television tuned to a basketball game.
Scouring the cabinets for crackers, I pull a box of saltines from the pantry and dial Beth. “Hey.” I keep her on speaker. “Can you bring me my car? I’ll drop you back off at home later.”
“Sure. Where’d you leave it parked?”
“Um, I don’t really remember. I was hoping you’d seen it?”
“Nope.” She sighs. “I only know where my car is because I don’t have a revolving door of men to chauffeur me around everywhere.”
“Wonder why?” Warren mutters behind me.
I shoot him a glare, glad she didn’t hear him. “You have Arnold. Why don’t you go stay with him tonight?”
She laughs. “And miss you and Matt going at each other like rabbits? You two are sooo loud.”
I lean on the counter. “Sorry about that. Last night was…a much-needed release of tension.”
She adds a purr into her laugh this time. “It sure sounded like you got released. Several times.”
Her words get Warren unglued from the couch. He’s up and slamming the door behind him before I get a chance to flip him off. “Look, I won’t be coming back home tonight so it would be really helpful if you’d go to Arnold’s.”
“Why?” she whines. “What about Matt? Is he going to be here?”
I lean my head back, feeling sick again. “I don’t know, Beth. Right now I’m focused on Samantha’s funeral. Her body is being released and Gary wants to go ahead with the service right away. Have you heard what the plans for Cheryl are?”
“Day after tomorrow.” She huffs. “I told you that already.”
I rub my temples. “It must have slipped my mind. We’ll do Samantha’s two days after Cheryl. That gives the club time to get back in town.”
“They’re gone?”
I bite my lip, I shouldn’t have said anything about the club’s movements. “Some of them took off on a ride this morning, ones that will want to be here to pay respects to Samantha. Especially with Gary being locked up.”
“Sounds like code for them being up to no good. Do you think they went off to kill someone?” She gasps. “Like on a hit?”
“No,” I fire back. “And this isn’t the time to joke about things like that.”
“Who’s joking?”
“Go to Arnold’s,” I order. “And if you find out where I left my car, let me know.”
I head downstairs with no intention of telling Warren where I’m going. In my office, I slide the tallest filing cabinet out of its place and over to the front of the cabinet beside it. Stooping to the face of the safe, I input the code and open the door. The stacks of cash are exactly as I left them, minus the amounts that go into the daily deposits. Only a handful of people have the combination to this safe, and even fewer have the combination for the safe hidden behind this one. I stare at the spot where a shelf pops out to reveal another keypad––one that opens a door to the hidden room. I don’t have the code for it but Gary has always said I’d figure it out if I ever needed to. And I’d only need to if he was dead.
I don’t doubt that Chopper was in the secret safe at some point before he left. I only hope he comes back in one piece. The Leidolf usually do, being that they’re more militaristic than outlaw, but they all have scars and I’ve witnessed more than a few injuries being patched up. I close my eyes and hope Chopper can feel my heart. “Be safe.”
I wipe the tears that come from the heartache of him not even bothering to say goodbye to me, then take two stacks of twenties that are bundled into groups of five hundred and two stacks of hundreds that are bundled into groups of twenty-five hundred. This should cover Samantha’s mom and get a down payment started on the funeral. I’ll grab the rest of what I need later.
Even though I’m sure my car isn’t here, I slip out the back door and check the lot, glad to see that Rick and Randy are still here. “Either of you seen my wheels lately?” They shake their heads and I go back inside to check with the bar staff, only to get the same answer. No one has seen my vehicle.
Bypassing the stool Warren’s sitting on, I go to Freddie. “I need a ride.”
He grins. “I knew you’d coming begging one day.”
I roll my eyes. “Not that kind of ride.”
He chuckles. “You know I’d take you, but I have orders. Big man over there with his crocodile knife has you until Chops gets back.”
“Doesn’t it bother you that a random person shows up in our bar mysteriously wielding the power to have his way? And that he also has a woman-gutting knife on him?”
Warren gets off his stool, fingers circling my wrist. “You might be trying to get your boyfriend killed but I’m not him anymore, sweetheart. You want to leave this bar, you leave with me. You don’t want my ride? Sit anywhere you like and make yourself at home.”
He lets go of me, waiting. I march out the front door. He follows me. “You develop a death wish to go along with your drinking habit?” I keep walking, ignoring him. “Tessa!” He shouts my name. I move faster. His sun-weathered arm snakes around my waist, jerking me to a stop. “I don’t want to be here babysitting you any more than you want me here. I’d rather be at work, making sure my business isn’t being run into the ground, but with dead women falling from the sky, we’ve all lost our right to do what we want.” He lets me go. “You can keep throwing tantrums and fighting me, or you can choose to let me do what I’m supposed to do because you don’t know half of the kind of danger you’re in.”
I move my mouth slowly, so he can hear me annunciate each word. “No. One. Is. Trying. To. Kill. Me.”
His head shakes. “You think killing you is the only bad thing a man can do?”
“No, but it’s the worst.”
The smug exterior he’s wearing falls away and his eyes stare in a way that sends shivers through me. His voice is barely audible. “They can do things that would make you wish you were dead. And all of them will be worse, Tessa.”
I look away, focusing on the bar’s front parking lot. “I’m aware that Montrose doesn’t like me but he would never make a move against me.”
Warren steps close to me and wraps his fingers around my waist when I try to move away. “There’s a power struggle going on. Montrose wants Gary out so he can lead the club into business ventures that keep getting defeated in a vote count because of Gary and those loyal to him. Montrose will absolutely drag Gary’s pride and joy into the center of his war, and if the leverage doesn’t make Gary cave, what Montrose does to you next will.”
I falter, hands gripping Warren’s forearms before I realize I’m holding onto him. I remove my touch and take a steadying breath. “Money motivates people to do stupid things, which makes me wonder how much you think this club war is going to profit you. That’s how you gained entry into the deepest parts of Gary’s life, isn’t it? Me? His greatest weakness used against him.” His fingers loosen and I take a step backward. “What did you do, Warren? Tell him only your love can save me?” I say the words mockingly and anger flashes through his irises.
He grips my elbow and drags me back toward the bar. “We’re not kids stealing pudding cups from the cafeteria anymore, Tessa. This is the big leagues, and two of the biggest dogs in the league are nervous.” He pulls me around to the back parking lot, grip not easing when Rick and Randy see us. Gary really did give Warren authority where I’m concerned.
He shoves me toward a Harley Low Rider, plucking a helmet from the back and handing it to me. My nostrils flare. “You are trying to join the club.”
He straddles the bike, pushing a helmet over his own head and lifting the visor, mouth drawing tight. “I’ve got your car. You’re not getting it back. Now shut your mouth and get on my bike.”
~43~
Warren tries to make me lose my grip on his bike. He gooses the engine, trying to bounce me forward or off. I’m not quite sure if he wants to make me hold onto him or get a concussion. Either way, I know how to squeeze my thighs and balance my body. And the only reason I got onto his bike to begin with is because I have business to take care of.
He goes ahead of me into Norma Kay’s trailer, offering his condolences and walking through the home before taking up a silent vigil near a front window while I ask Norma Kay about her needs. From the looks of her home, she’s become a hoarder since the last time I visited.
I clean up her kitchen and then call the bar, asking for someone to be sent to finish scrubbing the house. After that, I say my goodbyes and slide into place behind Warren. He starts his bike and we drive out of the trailer park, my hands gripping the bike itself. But my stance on not touching him won’t quell the rumors. If Warren had stayed with his bike and kept his helmet on, no one would have known it was him. But he had his mop of dark hair out in view of all the neighbors, and they were all looking, so now they’ll be speculating as to whether or not the old flames are back together. I only hope the rumor doesn’t reach Matt. Not before I have a chance to explain why I’m out with Warren.
At least Warren drives to the funeral home like he actually knows how to handle a bike. Inside the building, he takes a back seat again, not saying anything other than hello to the staff. He’s only here to shadow me, but normally I’m not so aware of my shadow.
Nancy is fairly new to town, the granddaughter of the man who used to run this funeral home. After he died, she took over. “I’ll give you a few minutes alone.” She speaks softly, leaving me to peruse the caskets. I walk slowly through the rows, chest tight with grief. One day someone will have to do this for me, choose my eternal resting box, and if there’s truth to any of Warren’s words, that might happen sooner than I’d like.
Stopping at an antique-white casket with a pale rose inlay, I run my hand over the butterflies carved along the edge. Warren comes up beside me, staring down into the folds of satin fabric. “Sam would like this.”
Tears rim my eyes. “You think so?”
He nods. “Do you remember that time we were up on the cliffs above the river? When Sam showed up buzzed and leaned over the edge trying to take pictures of caterpillars?”
I laugh, sending tears cascading over my cheeks. “There were gobs of them in the trees growing just beneath the ledge. I’d never seen anything like it.”
He smiles. “She kept saying we were all caterpillars, and that one day we’d get our wings.”
Warren saved Samantha that day. He held her tight, let her get her pictures and then pulled her from the edge and stood between her and it as she spun and danced in that late summer sun. School was about to start back for us, my and Warren’s senior year. We spent that night talking about all the flying we would do with those wings once we graduated.
I rest my hand on the butterflies. “Go tell them we choose this one. It’s perfect for Samantha.”
~
Today’s been emotional. I’m drained from crying, from fighting, from not being able to see Matt in person. I just want to eat the bowl of macaroni I microwaved and go to bed. “Matt, I don’t blame you for being upset that I’m not coming home again.” I set the hot macaroni bowl on a dish towel, burning my fingers in the process as I balance the phone between my shoulder and ear. “I swear I’ll make all of this up to you. I already have some ideas about how to celebrate your birthday next week.”
“All I want is for you to be in this relationship with me.”
“I am.” I lean my forehead against the cabinet above the counter where my macaroni is cooling. “I’m being pulled in every direction, Matt. I’m exhausted, confused, and every second I’m not with you, I feel utterly alone.”
He blows out a breath. “I know, babe. I feel the same way. Which is why I want you to come home. I’ve spent more nights in your house without you than I have with you.”
I lift away from the cabinet. “Just keep our bed warm and I’ll be back in it with you soon. And send me pictures of the waffles you’re eating without me, and maybe a few shots of you topless.”
He chuckles. “You’ve got it. I might even rub myself in butter for you.”
Tears run down my face. I haven’t told him I was with Warren today or that Warren is five feet from me right now. Matt wouldn’t be so loving and understanding if he knew. “Now that you’ve given me sweet dreams, I’ll let you go. I love you, Matt.”
“I love you, too. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
Hanging up, I palm the dish towel that’s under my single-serve bowl and walk past the couch. Warren speaks for the first time since we left the funeral home. “You can’t keep dating him. The sooner you break things off, the better. For both of you.”
“Thank you for your concern, but it’s none of your business.”
Slamming Gary’s bedroom door shut, I crawl onto the bed and stab a fork through the macaroni. Warren knocks on the door, opening it without waiting for an invitation. He puts his hands up in truce. “I only want to tell you something.”
“I’ve heard everything I need to hear from you.”
He lowers his hands and leans a shoulder against the doorframe. “I got the city contract because I found out Mayor Smith was shooting porn in the stockroom of the Christian bookstore he owns over in Fayetteville.”
I drop the bowl, unfeeling to the hot macaroni on my legs. “He what?”
Warren picks up the overturned bowl and starts scraping the macaroni back inside. “It’s pretty hard-core stuff. He wears a devil mask and drills this hairdresser chick, yelling about being the son of Satan and asking her how he feels.”
I’m as pale as the macaroni, preferring to eat mine without cheese. Warren’s jaw works. “When the good church elder-turned-mayor started spouting that Bible crap the other day, I wanted to do what you did. But I’ve already played my leverage. I can’t touch him.”
I realize his hands are all over my legs and move away. “What about his family? His poor wife!”
Warren straightens. “She knows. That’s how I found out. She blamed the hairdresser, saying the girl corrupted her husband and well, there’s nothing quite like a scorned hairdresser. The chick came to a party I was at and pulled up the website they sold the videos to, telling everyone she was getting ready to get paid because of the high-profile man under the mask. A few drinks in, I pried a name out of her. Then I talked to a couple of her coworkers and showed them a picture of Mayor’s wife—they confirmed she was the woman who came into their salon calling their fellow hairdresser a Jezebel.”
“And then you blackmailed the mayor?”
He shrugs. “Everything he and that girl did was consensual, even what looked to me like it would be painful for her. She said she liked it. So all Mayor had to do was be honest with the public about who he is. He chose to hide behind his faith and give me a contract to keep my mouth shut. That’s on him.”
“Do I know this girl?”
His head shakes. “Doubtful. She’s from Fayetteville, too. The salon she works for is in the same mall as Mayor’s bookstore, that’s how they met. I guess he thought doing the deeds in a different county wouldn’t leak back to him here, but I like to get around because a man learns a lot from just sitting in corners and listening.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not sitting in my corner. See yourself out. Preferably into oncoming traffic.”
He rolls his eyes, heading back to the door nonetheless. “Give it a rest, Tessa. You’re boring.” He spins around to look at me as he closes the door. “You’re also sloppy. The pig’s influence. Dump him.”
~44~
Despite the chill that surrounds us, Warren and I are managing to argue less. He even made himself scarce when Beth came to drop off clothes for both Cheryl’s service and Samantha’s. I didn’t have to ask him to either. All I had to do was mention she’d be dropping by and I didn’t see him again until well after she was gone. That allowed me to not have to answer her questions or worry about her blabbing to Matt that I’ve been rooming with my ex.
For Cheryl’s funeral, Warren let Matt pick me up, following us on his bike and waiting in the flanks. I never saw him, but I knew he was there from the way the tiny hairs on the back of my neck would stand on end. I imagine that’s when his eyes were on me instead of the crowd. It used to be that way in school anyway. I’d be across a room or sitting on the opposite end of the cafeteria and my skin would prick. I’d look up and there would be Warren, watching me.
Today we’re at Samantha’s repast, and things with Warren aren’t the same as they were at Cheryl’s funeral. Warren is welcome among the crowd. And Chopper is back, keeping himself positioned close to me. He was delayed getting home and didn’t show up until just before Samantha’s funeral started, so I haven’t broached the subject of returning to my own house yet. And now that the funeral is over and we’re all gathered in the bar to have food and tell stories of Sam, the time doesn’t feel right.
It doesn’t feel right to exclude Matt, either. He’s with me, arm curled around me on our side of the booth as Beth sits opposite us. His lips press against my temple, mouth lowering to my ear. “It’s probably inappropriate to say this, but you look beautiful.”
I rest my head against his chest and close my eyes. I’ve missed this. Him. The steady thrum of his heart. “You’re highly inappropriate, but I like it.”
