Page 29 of Karma

“Yeah? With the guys who help right wrongs and give people a new chance at life?”

That’s how she had described the MC Zane had once belonged to. It’s what gave me the idea of asking her to introduce us.

“Yeah, him and Rogue, the president of Rogue Angels MC used to be best friends once upon a time. Before Zane became Unholy, that is,” she says. “But they seem to be patching things up lately.”

“You think you could put us in touch?” I ask.

She stops tattooing and gives me a questioning look. “Sure. Why?”

“I’ve been thinking I want to stop living the nomad life and put down roots somewhere,” I tell her. “I heard that Rogue Angels can make that happen.”

“But you’re a fugitive, right?”

I hate that word more than anything. She starts drawing on my skin again, speaking like what she said is just a by the way sort of thing. Not the bane of my entire existence.

“More like a wanted person, since they never caught me so I could run and become an actual fugitive. But yeah, basically.”

“Rogue Angels could help prove your innocence,” she says. “That’s what they do.”

I barely manage not to snort. “Problem is, I’m guilty as sin. But so’s Zane and they’re making it possible for him to live a normal life, right?”

Some of this she told me, some of it I heard from others on the streets. It all culminated in my grand plan to try and give all us Forsaken Outlaws new, legit identities that would make it possible for us to settle down somewhere. If we wanted to. Which I very much do.

“Zane did kill a priest, after all. And was convicted of it, right?” I add. “Now he’s living in LA under the protection of Rogue Angels MC.”

She turns off the needle again and gives me a very deep, sad and searching look. “I don’t know, Karma. As far as I know, Rogue and them are in the business of catching criminals, notshielding them. But I can set up a meet for you. Once they accept me.”

“Or I could just find Zane and ask him. We used to ride together for a while.”

I try to sound non-fazed by it. A difficult feat, because here’s another of my heart’s dreams turning to ash, getting picked up by the wind, flying into my eyes and making them sting and water.

“He might be able to help you, sure. A friendless life on the run is no fun,” she says and starts working again. “I’m sure Zane knows this very well. I know I do.”

“I have friends,” I mutter and then let the silence drag.

Sometime later, she announces she’s done and lets me have a look at her creation. As I expected, it’s even more breathtaking than the drawing. And I have no hope of stopping the tears from rolling down my cheeks as I relive all the greatest moments I spent with Reaper, which are now forever etched into my skin. Never to be real again.

“We can start the cabin one tomorrow,” she says.

“Let’s do it now,” I whisper hoarsely. “Unless you’re too tired.”

“I’m not,” she says, smiling at me. “I just thought you might be wiped out.”

“I’m not.”

She grins at me then starts prepping again. I lay back, staring directly at the bright light she has trained on my stomach, willing it to burn away my tears.

I need the good image of the cabin to chase away the black grief brought by the one she just finished. And I need to accept that I might never have a life where I don’t have to constantly look over my shoulder and live in fear that I’ll lose the ones I love the most.

Dreaming and wishing is for the ones who are truly free. Not for us who only pretend to be.

14

Scorpio

Riding usually re-centers me. I guess it must be in my blood, since every guy in my family—at least on my father’s side—has been a biker going back to when they invented the first motorcycle. If Honey’s stories are to be believed, anyway. But fact is, I knew how to ride from the moment I sat on my first bike—one of the two Joker and I stole from a couple of bikers too tweaked out on meth to do more than grunt in annoyance. Joker had more problems with getting the hang of it. Had trouble going in a straight line, had trouble not toppling… we actually had to ditch his bike and steal one for him from someone else later, once he finally learned to ride. In the meantime, he had to ride bitch on mine for a while. It’s a story I like to tell whenever he starts taking himself too seriously. Or when I just want to annoy him.

But not even remembering that is putting my mind right. Of course, the pockets of stand-still traffic I keep hitting on my way to see Stone Dogs MC on Joker’s orders isn’t helping either.

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