Page 81 of Traitor

He released my arm and threw up his hands in frustration. “You can’t run away every time something goes wrong, Lauren. I can’t be the only one who fights for us.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat as the first tear jumped the gun and ran from my eye. “I wanted to stay,” I croaked. “I wanted to work things out, but this text—Mike, you can’t come back from that. You can’t talk your way out of it. And the sad thing is that I convinced myself that you were telling the truth; I knew that I couldn’t hold her death against you because you swore to me that you had nothing to do with it.”

I left him standing on the landing as I dragged the empty suitcase down the stairs, letting it jar my body as it hit each step. I wasn’t just leaving behind a house this time; I was leaving behind a life. My feet faltered, begging me to turn around and run back to him. And as I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I almost did.

There was the large dining room table that David had made as a housewarming gift for Mike; a table that I envisioned sitting at, surrounded by little faces that were a perfect mix of the two of us.

My brain urged me toward the door, even as my heart begged to stop. I stepped out onto the porch, refusing to look at the swing where we sat and talked in the evenings. A swing that I imagined us sitting on when we were gray and old.

I glanced into the rearview mirror as I reached the end of the dirt driveway and just like the whisper of a breath against a flame, watched my dreams as they were extinguished into darkness.

Chapter Ten

May 2016

“Get the fuck out of my way,” I growled as I shouldered past a couple of prospects on guard duty at the front of the clubhouse.

They eyed me and reached for their weapons.

“Do it and I’ll fucking end both of you. I need Comedian right the fuck now!”

The two of them hesitated with their hands on their hips, until the younger one decided to speak up. “Uh, he ain’t here. Club business. If you want to stop by later—”

I grabbed the patch-free kutte and yanked him toward me, keeping my voice low. “I don’t want to stop by later. I want to know where he is and don’t give me that club business bullshit.”

The door swung open and I instinctively reached for my throwaway.

“Mike? What the hell’s going on?” Torch looked me over carefully before calling the prospects off and ushering me inside.

“You shouldn’t have kids on watch duty, Torch. Not with everything that’s going on.”

He patted my back and led me toward the common room. “Sure, Mikey. I’ll have Pres get right on that. But first, can you tell me why the fuck you’re here?”

I almost sat down on the leather couch until I remembered where I was and what usually went down on it before making the decision to keep standing. “Yeah, I’m looking for my old man. Did you know he paid Lauren a visit when she still lived with you?”

He shook his head with a look of horror on his face. “He showed up there? Why?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. You had no idea?”

Torch suddenly looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, having this conversation. “Well, I mean I knew that Grey stopped by, but I don’t remember Comedian ever showing his face. Believe me, I would’ve kept Lauren safe.”

I laughed. “That’s a good one, Torchy. Kind of like how you kept her safe from my father? I want to know why he showed up there and I want to know who the fuck is texting her about Monica. God, I need blow.”

He closed his eyes before shaking his head. “No. I’ll help you find Comedian, but you gotta do it clean and sober, kid. I can’t be around that shit.”

“I don’t have time for this. We’re in the middle of a fucking outlaw biker clubhouse, where are the sluts and the drugs? Goddammit!” I left Torch in my wake as I stormed through the clubhouse, opening door after door, in need of a fix.

I got to the door marked President and threw it open into Grey’s chest. He stopped the motion with his arm before taking in my appearance. “Jesus, son, you look like shit. What the fuck happened to you?”

I searched his office before answering. “I need blow. And answers. Mainly the blow though.”

He led me over to the couch in the corner and when I hesitated, he let out a booming laugh. “Sit down, Mikey. Ain’t no one here dumb enough to fuck on my couch. Now, tell me what the hell is going on with you.”

I sank down onto the black leather. “Lauren left. Probably forever this time. She got a text from a restricted number telling her to ask me about the night Monica died and the text I received from you. Said I was nothing more than a good soldier who followed orders.”

Grey’s face remained the same, but he began cracking his knuckles, a sure sign that he wasn’t thrilled with the development. “So, whoever sent the original text most likely sent this one. But, why? Why now?”

I shrugged. “Beats me, old man. Listen, I hate to cut this short, but I need some blow and to find my piece of shit father. Can you help with that?”

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