Destroying Beauty (Hell Hounds Motorcycle Club): Vegas Titans Series (21 page)

Maybe it's weird to go back to working at Evergreen, but
I'll go crazy if I just sit at home, and I think of that as my work now. And I
know Holt won't be there, so I won't have to deal with whatever I feel for him.
I'll just do my work, outside, using my hands, with a bunch of guys who don't
know anything's wrong. Sounds like a relief to me.

I close my eyes, but all I can see is Holt's face, ghostly
pale from loss of blood. Bark and Wilkes told me in the few minutes before the
paramedics arrived that I had nothing to fear from them. Fish acted without the
consent of the club, and I had defended myself, and one of their brothers. I
would never have lied to the police for them, though; I did it for Holt.

The more rational part of my brain knows that he could have
gotten me out of this mess earlier, but I keep coming up against the fact that
he took a bullet for me. I can't ignore it, and I can't ignore my feelings for
him. It would be so much more convenient to be able to turn them off and move
on with my life, but my heart doesn't work like that.

I feel like I'm stuck in limbo. I'm furious at Holt, don't
know if I can trust him, don't know what's true and what's not. But I also know
how I feel, deep in my gut, when we're together, and that he would sacrifice
his life for mine. What he said just a few nights ago keeps coming back to me.
God, it feels like I've lived another lifetime since then. He said that he
loved me, that he couldn't live without me. And three days ago, I would have
said the same. But now I don't know how I feel

I'm still mulling everything over when I fall asleep.

I wake up at 7 AM, feeling like I'm emerging from a fog. I
slept for nearly fourteen hours. As I open my eyes, I have the feeling of
suddenly seeing the world through prescription eyeglasses. Everything seems a
little sharper. Not that I knew I wasn't seeing everything clearly before. Maybe
subconsciously I knew that I didn't know the whole truth, and now everything
has clicked into place.

I get out of bed and admire the sunlight streaming in
through my window. I pull my robe on and walk into the kitchen. The herbs look
a little dry from not being watered for a few days. I pour a small glass of
water over them and pluck a small piece of basil. I rub the leaf in my fingers
and breathe in the fresh scent.

After a leisurely breakfast, I get into my work clothes,
stuffing the gloves Holt gave me into the back pocket of my jeans. I grab the
sandwich I packed for lunch and hit the road. The temperature is perfect for an
early spring day—we haven't hit that overwhelming heat of the Vegas desert.

I wave to Dale as I pull into the small office park where
we're working today. He takes charge of the site, assigning us different
duties. It feels a bit strange to be working without Holt, but I still like
having my mind occupied. I spend most of my time on some large planters by the
entrance, packing them with evergreens.

Dale walks over as I'm working, sitting on the base of
cement planter and telling me about the lunch. I roll my eyes at him and
actually manage a grin. I'm safe, and Holt's recuperating, and I'm outside in
the sun. I just need to focus on the simple things.

Dale's cell phone rings and he glances at the number.

"Probably one of my many female admirers," he says
with a wink, and answers. "Hello?" He pauses for a moment. "Oh,
sure. I've heard Holt mention your name….Don't worry I'm on it. We're at the
site now. Everything's under control…Alright, bye now." He turns to me
with raised eyebrows. "That was Holt's friend Wilkes. He didn't seem to
know you'd already called me."

"Weird," I say with a Sphinx-like smile. I bend
back down to my work as a shiver goes down my spine. Even hearing from someone
close to Holt has an effect on me.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Holt

I frown down at my phone. I just spoke to Dale about how
Evergreen's doing, and he assured me that he and Jo are on top of it. I rub the
bridge of my nose. What does that mean? She's not returning my calls, but she
wants to help with my company? I tried not to sound too shocked when he was
telling me, but it was tough. I thought she was done with me…but maybe not.

I toss my phone onto my bed and take a deep breath. There's
still a sharp pain just under my rib. It's only been a week since the surgery,
and I only came home a couple days ago. I'm on painkillers, but I'm trying not
to take them too much because they make my head feel cloudy and it's impossible
to think.

"Ready?" Wilkes asks as he walks into my bedroom.
I nod and supports me under my elbow as I stand up. We walk slowly to the door
and then to one of the last empty spots in my living room, in the old armchair,
set up in the center of the room. The rest of the spots are taken up by my
brothers. It's strange to see them all here. There are going to be repercussions
for my actions with Jo and Fish's death. They gave me some time to recover
before the, well, trial, I suppose. And since I can't really move around, they
all came to me.

"First the good news," Bark begins from his place
of honor in the middle of my couch. "The cops are definitely suspicious of
us, but they don't have any proof that it didn't go down the way you and Jo
said. They've pressed her hard, but she won't budge."

I want to smile, but I hold it in, knowing these proceedings
are serious. Another sign that Jo might not be over me.

"Rich skipped town. He took a big payout from Fish to
make that traffic stop, and when he heard we weren't behind it, he got scared
and left. Probably a smart move."

"Now the bad news. You already know what it is, but for
prosperity…" The rest of my brothers shift, listening with more intensity
now. Some of them know only part of the story from rumors going around the
club. "You were told to get close to Jo, to find out what she knew about
the shooting. But you got too close to her. You lied when you said she couldn't
identify anything about Fish."

"But—" I protest.

"You'll get a turn to defend yourself. And I know it's
not likely that the cops could have used Fish's throat tic to identify him, but
still, you didn't tell me about it. You should have trusted your club to make
the right call. Instead, you were selfish and kept it to yourself. Then, you
ignored a mandatory meeting and many calls from me and other brothers. If you
hadn't, it's possible that things with Fish would've gone down differently.
Maybe he wouldn't be dead. Anyone got anything else to say?" He glances
around.

Fingers leans forward. "I know Fish could be crazy, but
he was still our brother. After you swear an oath to this club, you don't get
to cherry-pick which one of us you'll protect. It's all or nothing."

Bark nods. "Alright, Holt. You say what you wanna
say."

I clear my throat. I'm not used to such a formal setting. In
meetings with the Hounds we usually just spit out what's on our minds, but now
I feel pressure to be articulate. Words have never been my strongest suit, and
the stakes are high.

"I've been a Hound almost ten years now. About a third
of my life. For that time, it was my
whole
life. I've been there for a
lot of you in hard times, just like you've been there for me. When we were at
war with the Death Dealers, I think I did what needed to be done." Christ,
it's hard for me to talk about myself like this. "I'm not gonna sit here
and say there was any love lost between me and Fish. My sight's on the long
life of this club. When the fighting between us and the Dealers was over, I was
glad of it. There's more to us than violence, and that's all that Fish was in
this for. He wanted to start the war right back up again so he'd have a chance
to kill some people. I think if that's all you're here for, head down to the
fucking state penitentiary and sign up to be an executioner." I glance
around the room. My brothers are stone-faced, impossible to read. "Maybe
it'll be hard for some of you to trust me after this. Maybe you don't know if
I'll have your back when it comes down to it. But…but I'm asking you to
remember when you met your old lady, and remember what you would've done for
her. What you'd still do, to protect her."

"Hold up, you're saying Jo's your old lady?" Crank
asks, frowning.

"She was about to be. I don't know now. But she's not
just some sweet butt," I clarify.

"Anything else you wanna add before we talk?" Bark
asks, folding his arms over his chest.

I pause, but I think I've said my piece. Wilkes gets up and
helps me back into my bedroom, then closes the door behind him so my brothers
can deliberate. If I had the energy to pace, I would. They're deciding my
future in there, and it could be bleak. At worst, they might decide to kill me.
Fish's blood for mine. At best…well, there's really no "best" in this
kind of situation.

I pick up my phone again and stare at the empty screen.
There have been so many times over the last week when I wished I could talk to
Jo, touch her.

Talked to Dale. Thank you.
I type out, press send,
waiting to see if she'll respond. I hear the rise and fall of voices from the
living room.

My phone stays blank and I stare out the window at my front
yard. I feel so powerless. Over my body, and my future. If the Hell Hounds kick
me out, I'll have nothing. I don't know how to picture a future without my
club.

Finally, Wilkes opens the door and walks over to me. He
doesn't look me in the eye, and I try not to read anything into it. I know he's
not allowed to tell me anything. He leads me back down to the chair and I sit
with a wince of pain. I need to take another pill.

"No one here likes what's happened over the last couple
months, and I mean that to include Fish's actions. Hell Hounds don't kill
innocents. We might not live by society's laws, but we have to live with
ourselves," Bark says, and looks down at his hands. "Holt, you did at
times act against the club, but the consensus is that Fish got himself into his
own mess. His death came as a result of his own actions. Bottom line, you're
still a Hell Hound. But you're on probation for the next year. No percentage of
the business, no vote in church."

I reel back a bit as the judgment hits me.
Probation for
a year—that's a long time. But it could've been far worse.

"That's fair," I acknowledge. "Thank
you." I look around the room, and receive some nods from my brothers in
turn. Crank walks over to pat me on the back and slaps me a little too hard.
"Fuck," I murmur as I wince, and the room breaks out in laughter.
Everyone's glad to have the whole thing done with. And maybe they won't
acknowledge it, but I think that the general tension is lower now that Fish is
out of the picture. He had the knack of making everyone a little on edge, even
in his best moods.

I stay seated as my brothers mill around me, talking. Only a
couple leave quickly, unhappy with Bark's decision. Wilkes relaxes on the sofa
as the last of them finally wander out and the chorus of bike engines finally
ends.

"Most sided with Bark?" I ask him.

"There were a lot more against Fish than were willing
to say it when he was alive. But actually, we ended up talking about Jo for a
good bit of it."

"Jo?" I ask, frowning. "Why? Bark said…I
mean, she's clear now."

"Oh, yeah, not about that. They were arguing about
whether or not their own old ladies could've made the shot. Drugged up, in the
dark, with a semi like that. If anything, she helped your case. She's fuckin'
bad-ass, man."

"Yeah, well, she won't return my calls."

"I saw her face in the waiting room at the hospital.
Don't worry. She's not done with you yet."

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Jo

I pause to pull off my gloves and yank the elastic out of my
hair. A long tendril has come loose and is sticking to the back of my neck. I
gather every strand and pile it on top of my head. A heat wave hit last week
and the temperature jumped into the high eighties. Come summer, I'll be
ecstatic for eighty-degree weather, but right now it's an unwelcome surprise.