Through a Glass, Darkly (Assassins of Youth MC #1) (13 page)

BOOK: Through a Glass, Darkly (Assassins of Youth MC #1)
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“What the fuck is this?” he barked.

“What?” said Allred, out of sight around the corner. “Oh, I asked Mahalia to join us to catalog the products we’re going to be warehousing here. She’s got a great mind for—” Allred’s stupid fake smile was wiped off his face when he watched Gideon stride forward and help me to my feet.

“What happened?” Gideon asked. “Did you fall?”

“Yes, that’s it,” I whispered. “I fell.”

He brushed off my shoulders in a way that was too intimate for two business partners such as we were supposed to be. “You didn’t fall.”

“No,” I whispered, and looked meaningfully at Allred.


As I was saying
.” Allred strode in chuckling. “Mahalia here has all the warehousing software at her fingertips, so now that Parley’s here, let’s move along and make sure everything’s up to par.”

“Do you need help?” Gideon whispered as we walked ever so slowly out of the office.

“Not yet.”

Parley patted Gideon down. The men shook hands as I turned on my laptop. There was a special tall stool where I would sit and enter each new delivery, which shelf and aisle it would be stored on. We already had enough military grade weapons to arm a banana republic, but Allred’s paranoia would require that we keep stockpiling more. Gideon used the dolly to cart out box after wooden box of arms. He looked dashing and sinewy even doing such a mundane thing. My face was hot, and I kept glancing at Allred to see what he knew. Who had snitched that my truck was at the High Dive? I had made sure to park a few doors down from the bar, in front of the bakery, a place I could feasibly be seen going into.

Since Allred wasn’t familiar with some of the makes and models, Gideon would tell me directly what they were. Each glance of his was full of concern and caring. At least, that’s what I wanted to imagine after hearing Allred’s threats toward Vonda. The wheels in my brain were turning at a furious pace.
How can I get out of here? Can I hide in Gideon’s truck? That’s absurd. I can’t leave Vonda to suffer a fate worse than sealing to Orson Ream. When I go, I need to take her.

“Six Izhmash SV-98s,” said Gideon.

When I furrowed my brow, he had to come over and educate me further. Parley and Allred were absorbed in the firing mechanism of an AK-12, aiming it at a row of American-made weapons as though playing a video game.

Gideon said, “I-Z-H-M-A-S-H, Sierra Victor ninety-eight. Listen, what the fuck was that whack-a-mole doing to you in there?”

“It’s all right. I’m protecting my daughter.”

“Mahalia. What’s being done to you is going to be done to your daughter if you don’t take action.”

“But what action can I take? I’m helpless.”

Gideon looked frustrated too, but he said, “No one’s ever truly helpless,” before returning to the truck.

It was then that I heard the rumble of a bike’s pipes approaching. There were only a couple of motorcycles in Cornucopia, it not really being a Cornucopia type of conveyance. And those two were rice rockets, not Harleys, as I could tell this one was.

Gideon had said something about leaving his associates, plural, at the front gates. I hoped to hell he hadn’t dragged that Tim Breakiron guy into this deal with him. Maybe whoever had brought the Larry’s Produce truck to Mesquite had gotten in the gates. No one else seemed to hear the bike, though, until it was fairly close. I could think of no reason why an associate would come to the warehouse at this late juncture in the exchange.

The next moment I caught Gideon’s eye, I pointed outside and uttered “What’s that?” soundlessly.

Gideon caught my meaning and left the dolly at the base of the ramp to go around the side of the truck. The bike’s engine was cut, and whoever it was hit the ground yelling. It only took a few words to realize it
was
that Tim Breakiron idiot because he was yelling,

“This should’ve been
my
fuckin’ deal, man! You cut in like you owned the fucking place and totally took over, and now Papa Ewey is cutting me out of every aspect of this Cornucopia deal like I didn’t even fuckin’ exist!”

“Breakiron! This isn’t the fucking time or place. Why don’t we discuss this back—”

Tim drew a pistol from inside of his cut and pointed it at Gideon. “
No!
I’m sick of being shoved in the background like some little fucking kid! When you came along everything fell to shit! Things were going fine until I was sent on this stupid fucking run with you.”

Gideon held up his hands as though surrendering. He spoke calmly, as though soothing a crazed bomber. I saw that Parley Pipkin had hidden behind the box truck, and Allred seemed to be contemplating which way to go. Either way, it was a definite misfortune that ammo for most of the weapons was down in Aisle 3B. Allred held an unloaded sniper rifle, but the best he could do would be hit Breakiron over the head with it.

Louder than was necessary, Gideon shouted, “Tim. You were sent here fair and square. We both had major fuckups that affected our membership standing. I was making time with Papa Ewey’s old lady, and you were raping Bent Zealots guys.”

Gideon had been slowly moving toward the truck, away from me. Drawing Breakiron’s attention away, I gathered. As for me, I was rooted to the spot. Maybe I reasoned that moving would attract Breakiron’s attention.

Breakiron waved his handgun now. He bawled, “Oh yeah? Well, you’re ten times worse than me, Fortunati! You take all the fucking gun business for yourself. Then you push up on this guy’s—”

Even louder, Gideon roared, “
I’d watch what I was saying if I was you
.”

“This guy’s what?” Boldly, Allred finally made the decision to step into the open. Maybe he was hoping Breakiron would think his weapon was loaded. Maybe he just couldn’t resist the chance for the limelight. “You’re Gideon’s associate, are you not? My deal had nothing to do with your character, sir. I had no clue about this male-raping until just now. You needn’t have forced Gideon to inform us about that by breaking into my compound and accosting us.”

“I’m not here to talk to you!” shrieked Breakiron, his gun still trained on Gideon. “I want to know why I keep getting cut out of everything. Just the gang rape can’t be the reason you were made Prez of this new chapter and not me!”

Gideon, hands still held high, said, “It’s not
just
that, Breakiron. It’s a bunch of things. Why don’t we calmly—”

Breakiron’s arm jerked to the side, and he shot. But not at Gideon. He seemed to be shooting in our, my, Allred’s direction. Gideon made an energetic, swift dive to the side. I didn’t know if I was hit or if the report from the gun just made me jump, but I fell off my stool.

Suddenly I was flat on the ground. Everyone seemed to be. Gideon was only about four feet from me, his eyes connected with mine. Fluidly, in one swift motion, he drew a gun from his boot and shot Breakiron right in the throat.

Someone—I later figured out it was Allred—was shrieking like a maniac. He was on the ground too, so I couldn’t tell who was hit or not. I crawled behind the stool as if it would be any protection. It was just an instinctual move, and I looked my dress all over to see if there was any blood. No. Then who had Breakiron hit?

Gideon was standing now, his long arm holding the pistol at his side. He didn’t seem to feel a threat any longer, and he walked over to Breakiron’s prone body and kicked it. Nothing. That guy was deader than disco. His shades had been knocked askew, displaying his glazed, empty eyes. Briefly, I remembered an old western belief that the last thing a dead man had seen would be imprinted on his irises. I wondered if Breakiron had been shooting at me, Allred, or Gideon. Whose face would be seared into Breakiron’s irises? My heart beat so loudly, everything else sounded muffled. My ears rang from the reports of both guns.

“Praise to thee on highest!” shrieked Allred in a high, squeaky voice. He was sitting up now, the sniper rifle across his lap, as though he’d just used it in a combat environment. “The glory of God surrounds us and protects us like a bubble! It is a
miracle
, I tell you! A miracle! Parley, where are you?”

Gideon immediately squatted by me. Since he was wearing only his leather vest—his cut—over his black wifebeater, it was easy to see he’d been shot in the upper right abdomen, the location of the liver.

“Are you okay?”

“Are you okay?”

“Gideon, you’ve been hit! You need to go to the emergency room.”

Suddenly seeming to hear us, Allred yelled, “He doesn’t need an emergency room! There’s an urgent care just outside of Avalanche.”

I knew that urgent care. It was just a glorified doctor’s office with one MD and one NP, all under the watchful eye of Allred Lee Chiles. I shouted, “No! He needs a
real
emergency room, Dixie Regional in St. George!” I thought of something. “Allred, he was protecting
you
from this crazed gunman! Did you see the look in that whack-a-mole’s eyes? He was gunning right for you!”

That was probably true. I still wasn’t sure if Breakiron had been aiming at Allred or me. He might not have the guts to kill a fellow brother of his, but he was obviously a spineless, violent character who would kill a woman or a business associate.

Allred’s eyes grew even rounder. “I
knew
it! I knew it from the second I heard about that character! He was aiming to take out The Prophet of Cornucopia and become Prophet himself!”

“Well,” said Gideon, “I don’t think that was his—”

“He wanted all the glory for hisself! Well, I’m-a tellin’ him, he ain’t gonna get—”

I shrieked, “He ain’t gonna get
nothing
anymore, Allred, because he’s
dead
! And Gideon will be too if we don’t get him to a
real
hospital!” I shot to my feet, yanking Gideon by the arm. “Come. We’ll go to St. George, to Dixie. Screw this urgent care place. They’re equipped for taking care of nosebleeds and nothing else. I took a boy there once who’d broken his arm and they didn’t even set it properly.”

“Ah, actually.” Gideon tried to stop me. “I’d rather go to urgent care if it’s all right with you. Hospitals are required to report anything they suspect was a result of a crime.”

That stopped me dead in my tracks, too. “Oh.” I wouldn’t want to get Gideon in trouble in any way, shape, or form. I stared dumbly at Allred, still sitting on the floor hugging up his rifle. “I’ll take Gideon to urgent care, then. You and Parley stay here and do what you do best—getting rid of bodies.”

“Let Parley take Gideon,” Allred tried to say.

But I was on top of it. I got my purse from the office and said, “No.
I’m
taking him, Allred. I’ll get Drakelle and we’ll go together.” Drakelle was the sister-wife with the most nursing training on the outside.

“I command you!” bellowed Allred, but we were already out back staggering through the alley.

Gideon was holding his side. It occurred to me to ask, “Do you think the bullet’s still inside you?”

“I think the bullet’s still inside me. You’re going to be hearing some mighty loud screaming, because I don’t think those people have much in the way of anesthesia.”

“Fuck it,” I said, reverting back to “outsider” lingo. I fumbled for my cell phone inside my purse. Gideon’s arm was draped over my shoulder and I pinned it down with one hand. With the other I punched Kimball’s speed dial. She answered right away. “Kimball. I need you to get my truck, get Drakelle, and come around the back of the book bindery. Immediately. There’s been an accident.”

We leaned against the building. A sheen of sweat had broken out on Gideon’s forehead, and his eyes looked more dazed than usual, for such an angelic shade of baby blue.

“Was he aiming at me, or at Allred?” I asked softly. I pressed the back of my hand to his face like a blotting tissue, but really I just wanted to feel him, his face.

“It doesn’t matter. Let’s just let him think it was him I was protecting.”

That answered my question. “I’m not letting you go back to your house. You and Dingo are staying with me. Here, let’s sit down.”

He tried to laugh but wound up coughing in pain instead. “With all those kids? No thanks. Let Dingo earn his full patch by cleaning my bed pan.”

“Look. There’s a guest house behind mine.”

Gideon tried to laugh. That’s when blood started trickling from the corner of his mouth. I did have some tissues in my purse, so I was blotting the blood pointlessly from his chin when Kimball brought my truck around with Drakelle sitting in the back seat. Kimball would have to drive.

“Don’t check out on me, tough guy,” I whispered as I helped him to his feet. “I need you now. I’ll need you forever. Don’t leave me. Don’t ever fucking leave me.”

“I won’t.” He wasn’t trying to laugh now.

CHAPTER TEN

GIDEON

I
must’ve drifted
for a couple of days.

It seemed as though Mahalia’s words lifted me higher and higher. Maybe my fever was spiking so high I thought I could hear her speaking. “You have an origin,” I heard her disembodied voice say gently, soothingly, “a purpose in your life. Your future is out in the galaxy where you are part of something bigger than nature. You long to be whole again, don’t you? You crave a close union with your other half.”

BOOK: Through a Glass, Darkly (Assassins of Youth MC #1)
9.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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