Page 68 of Never Wed an Outlaw

I pushed my chair over and stroked his head while Ipoured myself a shot, listening to his heavy breathing. “You've only been with us for a little while, and you've already seen a heap of shit. Fuckin' shame, really.”

The dog pressed his head into my hand, oblivious to the club's many struggles and fuck ups over the past year. Hadn't all been bad, of course. Half the boys were wed off or raising kids. Their stories had happy endings. I started to believe the same slice of heaven might be waiting around the corner for me.

Big mistake. Colossal.

My hand tightened on the little shot glass while I took a second hit from the bottle. This shit only did so much to numb the demon churning in my guts. It wouldn't be truly tamed 'til I brought her back.

I believed she was alive out there somewhere, ignoring the savage voice deep down that said I was wasting my time, and everybody else's, too.

The third shot was about to go down my throat when my door swung open. Bingo jerked up and walked across the room to make room for Firefly.

We'd shared an icy peace the last few months, ever since Hannah up and disappeared. Now, the giant stood over me, looking like a grenade about to go off, flattening his hands on my desk.

“You got something to say, or what?” I asked, looking back with daggers in my eyes.

“I believed you, Cap'n. Listened to every fucked up thing you said in church last week, when you swore up and down you were looking for her, giving it everything you had.”

“Not sure what you're pissed about because I gave you the God's truth. What the fuck do you think I'm doing in here? Pulling my pud while I think about how much I miss her doing it for me?”

The whiskey had hit my system quicker than I believed. Words came out like bee stings on the tongue. Knew I sounded like an asshole, even if there was a bigger one standing in front of me.

Slowly, Firefly reached out, grasped the almost drained bottle, and gripped it in one hand. “I'm gonna give you one chance to tell me how throwing this shit down your gullet at ten o'clock in the morning helps bring my sis home. Half a minute. Go.”

I stood up, tilting my face up, my eyes locked to his like knife on bone. Over in the corner, Bingo whined, sensing the storm about to break open in this little room.

“Whatever the fuck else you've got to say or do to me, just let the dog go. He don't need to be here for this.”

Firefly grunted reluctant agreement as he walked over. He stroked the big grey dog's head 'til he stood up, and slowly ambled out the open door on four furry legs. I watched my big Enforcer cross the room after him, yank the door shut, slamming it so hard on its hinges the whole building shook.

“I gave you thirty seconds, Prez. You haven't said a fuckin' thing, which tells me you've got nothing.”

“Fuck, we oughta add a detective patch to the club ranks for the fine work you just did,” I said, stepping out from behind my desk, getting in his face. “We're missing thesame woman for different reasons, so you deserve an answer that ain't just 'fuck off.' I come in here, morning after morning, looking for the day I see a scrap of paper that has a few answers on it. Every single evening, I go home, staying up 'til I pass out, combing over every file, hoping we missed something. Every fuckin' lead turns to ashes in front of my eyes, and then does it again when I'm stupid enough to double-check. That lead in Michigan last month that went fuckin' nowhere...the Grizzlies prospect who thought he saw her in Idaho...the drunken asshole at the Heel who told us she was right under our noses, two towns over, only to walk in where he said and find a bitch in a wig shooting up in front of her kid...”

My nostrils flared. That last incident a couple weeks ago really pissed me off.

The club called the good cops we knew as soon as we pushed the druggie bitch outta her house and got her kid to safety. Then I personally drove to the Heel, pulled the drunk who'd handed us the faulty tip out back, and put the fear of God into him for boozing so fuckin' much he thought a crank whore looked like my Hannah.

“So, you're giving up, Prez? That what you're saying?” Firefly snorted, shaking his head. “Fuck's sake. You know we're gonna get a hundred more false leads before we take a bite on one that's real. That's how this goes, and I'm doing my damnedest to keep my head straight, keep it clear, double-checking for anything – motherfuckinganything– we might've missed.”

“That's just it – we don't have goddamned time for ahundred more fake leads. She's been missing forsevenfuckin' months!” I pushed past him, hit the wall, and banged both my fists against it.

Seven.I counted them in my head every heartless night, right before I forced myself to blackout.

Some nights, Doctor Jack and Jim helped. Others, I got down on the floor, sweated like a hog, and did so many pushups I hit the floor with my arms half-broke, grinding my teeth angrily 'til I passed the fuck out.

Seven evil months without my Hannah. Seven months of darkness. Seven months shuffling through this life like a disembodied spirit.

“You're making excuses, Cap'n. I want her back just as much as you do,” Firefly said, his grip on the bottle easing. His knuckles weren't pale white anymore. Maybe he'd gotten cold feet about bringing it down on my skull.

“Fuck wanting, Firefly. I'm bringing her back. Maybe you're right about the bottle taking too much away from me. It bleeds time, focus. Hours and days when I could've hit the shit in front of me a few more times, triple checked a few more leads. I hear you, brother, and I'm fuckin' sorry.”

Apologies were supposed to help. This one tasted like ash in my mouth.

I kept my face to the wall, ashamed, wondering how I kept the boot off my own ass. Hated how it took this asshole behind me to admit I had a problem with the sauce cutting into these worthless leads.

“Don't apologize.” Firefly laid a stern hand on myshoulder. “Shape the fuck up, Prez. We just gotta be patient for a little while longer. Joker's touching base with the contacts we've got in Texas and Oklahoma, trying to sniff out anything new.”

“Bullshit,” I said, turning around to face him. Pulling out my pipe, I gave it a light, and motioned to the map behind my desk. The one with all the little rainbow tacks stuck in it, one for every place we thought we heard a rumor that wasn't total bullshit. “That's the trouble with all this, ain't it? Her route doesn't make sense. If anything we heard about her being in the Pacific Northwest was true, why the fuck would she give that up to go down to Texas? With her Sterner Corp ties, she'd be heading for Seattle, trying to get to Alaska, or fuck knows where from there.”

---