Justice (28 page)

“Yeah, I helped you get out,” Clara shot out.
 

“Bitch, I’m the only reason you’re alive and sitting in that chair. I got your ass out. After everything you did to me, I saved you,” Alexis hissed and Clara kept quiet for once.
 
“I’m done.” Lex threw up her hands and sat down. But then thought better of it and stood back up.
 

“Wait, maybe a little more. Clara is a spoiled, user of a human being. She’s used to getting her way. When she doesn’t, she strikes out. She’ll do and say anything to get what she wants. I can’t stand her, but I don’t think her actions are deserving of death. I don’t want her anywhere near me, but dead is dead. And frankly, taking her life is not worth scarring the soldier who has to shoot her.”
 

Lex sat back down and did a one finger tap off her forehead in Clara’s direction who was staring at her in open contempt. She held two fingers out to indicate this was the second time she’s saved Clara’s life. I’ve got to give it to Lex, she had a way with cutting right to the chase.

“Is there anyone else that will speak for Clara?” Poche asked the crowd.
 

“I will.” A woman from the back stood. She was too skinny and her hair hung in limp locks down her back. There was once beauty there, but a broken look had taken root. What was once a pretty girl was now hidden by dark circles under her eyes and sallow skin.
 

“I can’t say anything about what Clara did before she came here. I can’t even say that Clara is a nice person. She kept to herself. I do know she was regularly chosen by Spider. So was I. I wouldn’t wish Spider on my enemy. He’s the worst of the worst. If you can think of something depraved or sadistic, Spider liked it. I told myself when I heard about Clara that I would at least stand up and tell you this. She has paid for her crimes, like I have paid for mine.” She sat down abruptly and the room fell deathly quiet.
 

“Anyone else?” Poche asked after a moment. No one volunteered. The only thing that broke the silence was the sound of boots on linoleum. I turned in my seat and saw Zach leaving the room.
 

“Thank you for your testimony. We’ll adjourn and have a verdict soon.” Poche and the rest of the judges walked out to decide Clara’s guilt or innocence.
 

We waited for what felt like hours in tense silence. The only thing that marred the quiet was the sound of Clara’s subdued sobbing. I was there to support Lex, but all I could think about was Rebel. Who would speak for him? Would there be girls that stood up and spoke of depravity and sadism? That would kill me. That would kill him, what was I talking about?
 

I heard the creak of a door and the judges filed in. Romeo looked grimmer than ever, if that was possible. Grace was crying. Ryan and Poche were stoic and they remained standing as they looked at Clara. The accused.
 

“Clara Clark Miller, you’ve been accused of attempted murder and endangering your compound. We find you guilty.”
 

The wail that came from her mouth was ear splitting and I tried not to feel for her, but it was impossible. She was a heinous bitch, but I would be evil myself if I took glee in this.
 

“Your crimes have earned you exile. You’ll receive one knife, one change of clothes and three days’ worth of food. You are not allowed in Lakeview, or anywhere near the compound in New Orleans East. If you are spotted near these locations, you will face the penalty of death. Your sentence will be enacted immediately. Graf, please get her a walking pack and escort her to the 17th Street canal bridge.”
 

Clara sobbed.
Exile
. This changed everything.
 

FIFTY-SIX | Hours to Days

The hours bled into each other, hours to minutes, minutes to hours, hours to maybe days. Everything spun and twisted together. No one came to visit me, no one came to talk. The only interaction I had was when I was taken to the bathroom twice a day and when I was brought my meals. I didn’t even know how long it had been. One day, two days? A week? I hadn’t been paying attention. I laid on my cot and stared at the ceiling.
 

I shouldn’t have come back. I should have stayed in that tiny apartment. With her.
 

Deep down I thought my actions would get me some kind of special consideration. I had told them where some of the men were hiding, which would most likely result in their death. I had killed my brothers, men I had grown up around, to prove myself to a group that had deemed themselves righteous. For a girl that hadn’t looked back.
 

 
Someone knocked on the door. I ignored it.
It’s not like I had a choice.

FIFTY-SEVEN | Empty Promises

Alexis was a pain in my ass. She wouldn’t leave me alone. She wouldn’t let me go and hide. She also wouldn’t let me anywhere near the vodka.
 

“We drank it all,” she said as I glared at her.
 

“You’re lying,” I scoffed.
 

“If anyone deserves vodka, it’s me,” she said in her haughty annoying voice.
 

“You did get your boyfriend’s ex exiled, yeah, you deserve it.” I stumbled over the alliteration and she scrunched her nose. “You should be celebrating. Go get the vodka. Let’s celebrate.”
 

“When did you become a lush?”

“Regret is a bitch,” I sighed.

“That’s deep,” she scoffed and threw herself on the cot next to mine.
 

“Don’t you have something to do? Aren’t you supposed to be one of the leaders or something?” I said annoyed at her interruption of my pity party.
 

“My mad leadership skills aren’t really recognized by this bunch of misogynists. I’m okay with that, they have too many meetings. That’s why I’m here. Zach and Blake are up there meeting with Poche and Tammi again. I just want to go home,” she sighed.
 

“You and me both,” I yawned.
 

“So, there’s a reason I’m here.” She sat up on the cot and looked at me.
 

“Oh, I thought you were here to annoy me,” I teased. She threw a pillow at me.
 

“No, contrary to your antisocial ways, I’m actually here to do you a solid.”
 

“Does it include vodka?”

“I don’t like lush Baby,” she pouted.
 

“Whatever, okay, spit it out. What are you doing for me?”

“You know we have another trial in a couple of hours?”

“Yeah, who’s up on the chopping block?”
 

“The leader, Junior, it’s going to be a circus.”
 

“You gotta go to this one?” I asked, thinking about yesterday’s craziness.
 

“No, well, yeah. I could say something, but I have a feeling my interactions with Junior are nothing compared to what he did to other people. My testimony isn’t going to be needed.”
 

“That’s gonna be a horror show,” I shivered.

“It is. They also want to let some of the bikers get the chance to speak for him.” She looked at me intensely.
 

“None of them will speak for him, unless it’s positive.”
 

“Positive, negative, we have to give them the chance to speak. Three have agreed to speak, we don’t know what they will say. They want Rebel to speak, but he won’t even talk to anyone.”
 

“I guess he’s tired of being used,” I said without thinking.

“Is that what you think?”

“What else would you call it? He risked his life, sold out a group of men he’s known since he was a kid, taught these fools how to get electricity up and running and then they have him locked in a box, waiting to be killed.”
 

“I don’t think they’ll kill him,” Lex said, but I could sense the doubt in her voice. There was no way to tell. Blake and Zach could be set on keeping him alive, but Ryan and Poche might be out for blood. And who knows how the civilians will vote. Who knows what people will say during the trial. Maybe he had participated in some of the behavior that was getting these bikers a guilty verdict. I didn’t think so, but you never know.

“Then they’ll exile him. Either way, it’s a death sentence. Wonder if Clara is still kicking?” Lex flinched and I regretted my words. The bitch deserved her fate, but it was still a life. We were still killing people. Living, breathing people. People who weren’t fighting back. This was nasty shit. Was it
justice
? At this point I couldn’t tell. We might call it exile, but it was delaying the inevitable. Clara didn’t have the life-skills to survive in this world. We should have put a bullet in her head, it would have been more humane.
 

“At least with exile they have a fighting chance. They exiled the guy this morning.”

“What were his crimes?”

“The only people that spoke for him were civilian men. He liked to use his fists for emphasis. He was one of the lookouts, so he was never at the base and doesn’t seem to be one of the addicts. You should hear the stories upstairs, half of the men are in withdrawal. Isaiah is giving them low doses of meth to keep them from going into shock.”
 

“Nasty shit,” I cursed.
 

“The trial starts in two hours, can you get Rebel?”

“So you want me to talk him into speaking for Junior?”

“Yes, you have two hours,” she smiled. She thought she was doing me a favor. I had to talk this man into sitting through a trial, one he’ll be forced to take center-stage on tomorrow. I have to ask him to speak for a man he grew up with, to give testimony that would probably aid in ending the man’s life.
 

“I can’t make any promises,” I said curtly.
 

“I know you can’t, Baby, if you only sit there for two hours with him, at least you tried. C’mon.” She stood and held out her hand. “You might want to change though, that outfit is rank.”

FIFTY-EIGHT | Sent in the Big Guns

I couldn’t stew anymore, so I had taken to sporadically jumping up and doing fifty push-ups. It wasn’t making the time any more bearable but at least I wasn’t drowning in self-pity.
 

The door handle jiggled and I shot up. If it was Poche’s lackey, Graf, again, I was going to go off on him. He was one of the soldiers from the National Guard and he was acting as Poche’s personal assistant or something. He had been in here three times on the premise of delivering my food, but he had ulterior motives. I was seriously done with this racket. He wanted me to sit through Junior’s trial, thought it would be helpful if I spoke up about Junior’s leadership. You know, from a person
like me,
it will hit harder. Quicker to kill him off.