Page 44 of Patching Over

“Maybe I don’t need to know this,” I hesitantly murmur, gnawing on my bottom lip.

“Yeah, you do, sweetheart,” he says, using his thumb and finger to pull my lip free from my teeth. “It was early spring, and the club was preparing to have a family day, complete with a cookout along with all the bells and whistles. Me and Ban were two of the oldest kids in the club, and typically, we were tasked with keeping an eye on all of you younger ones. That day, I had a doctor’s appointment for a sports physical, so I wasn’t there with him. Maybe if I had been, the club brothers could’ve found you sooner.”

“Why would you say that?” I ask. “You were a child too, Brick.”

“Because Ban says only one person was in the van and if he was busy knocking Ban out, I could’ve run for help,” he supplies,anguish coating his tone. “I feel as responsible as Banshee does, sweetheart.”

“The only person or persons who are responsible are the ones who chose to be assholes and steal a little girl from her family, then make it look like she was dead to taunt said family,” I angrily retort. “They’rethe assholes, Brick.Notyou,notBanshee, andnotmy parents, hell, not even anyone who was in the club back then. From what you’ve said so far, they scoured the local area looking for me and had the cops involved. I get the impression y’all aren’t too fond of law enforcement so for the club to call them in, y’all left no stone unturned.”

I take a deep breath in order to compose myself while lovingly patting his face.

Once I feel as if I can continue without adding to his angst, I insist, “I don’t remember any of that, which actually sounds like a good thing for my mental well-being, but it kills me inside that you and my brother have harbored this guilt for all of these past years.”

“It was a bad time for the club, sweetheart,” he continues, his voice now somber. “Your parents would go out riding every day tracking down leads, taking backroads, doing whatever they could to see if they could recover your body. Because they were under the impression you were actually dead. Hell, they wouldn’t have a funeral since no body was recovered.”

“What happened then?” I ask, my voice tremulous as I hold back tears thinking of the parents I don’t remember doing everything they can to find me.

I was loved… unconditionally.

Adored.

Cherished.

Those thoughts knit together, weaving together that broken piece of my heart and soul as the realization of what lengths they went to in order to find me courses through my psyche.

Brick

She seems to be taking all of this information I’m tossing at her rather well, although, I’ve felt her tremble a few times. Giving in to my desire to kiss her, I do so, my heart swelling at the love I feel for this woman.

She’s been beaten down but isn’t broken. Just like the phoenix, she’s been steadily rising from the proverbial ashes and glimmering in shades of red and orange instead of dim hues of gray and black.

Breathless, I pull back, happy to see her kiss-swollen lips tipped up in a smile. “So, on that day, while all the old ladies were fixing the side dishes, Ban and the rest of the kids including you, were on the side of the property where we used to have a play area. The brothers had built one of those massive swing set monstrosities, complete with slides, a climbing wall, a teeter-totter, swings of course, and a clubhouse of sorts smack dab in the middle.”

My chest aches and my heart burns as I remember that day and the ones that followed. Her loss affected each and every one of us and caused a black patch to settle into our souls.

Picking up the story from where I stalled, I continue by telling her, “The brothers were in Church during the event, with a few prospects patrolling the grounds, of course, when a white van pulled up near the fence. Ban said he saw them and started yelling for the kids to move toward the back of the play area which was off the kitchen when a scrawny guy jumped the fence and scooped you up. When Ban went after him, he backhanded him in the head, knocking him completely out.”

“Why didn’t any of the other kids go for help?” I ask. “I mean, that’s what I would’ve done under the circumstances. What about the prospects? Where were they?”

“The other kids had gone into the kitchen and were getting snacks from the old ladies and club girls which distracted them enough they didn’t mention what happened outside. Plus, most of them were four or five at most if memory serves. They didn’t realize there was danger because Ban didn’t tell them that, he just simply told them to head inside and that it was time for a snack.”

“Oh, well, that makes sense, but why weren’t the prospects outside overseeing the kids left behind… like me and Banshee?”

“Because believe it or not, they were out and about gathering the shit needed for the cookout at the big box store in town. They came back loaded down with ice, chips, meats, alcohol, beer, soda, juice boxes, and paper products to absolute fucking chaos.”

She nods but doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “Ban came to, and the van was gone so he hightailed it into the clubhouse and went flying into Church. Understand, sweetheart, thatno oneenters those doors unless they’re a patched member or they’ve been previously invited in by one of the men. So, when the door flew open, Ban was suddenly faced with ten brothers’ guns pointed at him. After they realized it wasn’t an enemy charging in, he was able to tell them what happened. RiffRaff decided immediately to get the police involved against my grandfather’s best wishes.”

“Who is your grandfather?”

“Astro. He and his best friend were the ones who initially started the club, but he had turned the gavel over to my pops and was just a patched member at the time when this took place, babe. Your dad also advocated for the cops being involved because as he said, and I quote,the more people looking for you, the better the chance we had of getting you back.”

“So, no family party, huh?” Her voice sounds sad and forlorn.

“The old ladies and prospects cooked everything and kept watch at the clubhouse, trying to keep things calm for the kids, while all the patched brothers and officers hit the streets once the police left. For about a week, at least five brothers were out for twelve hours a day searching for you. They ran in shifts, half staying here and resting while the other half was out and about. Every fucking lead, no matter how sketchy or small, was tracked down and thoroughly investigated. RiffRaff pulled in markers from other clubs, from some of the men the club has been associated with over the years that are quasi-allies, and even from the underground element here in Virginia.”

I feel her breath hitch from where my hand had been smoothly raking up and down her back, so I stop and clutch her closer to me.

When I feel the tension start to ease, I pick the story back up. “They came up empty every single day, sweetheart. Your mom was strong as fuck, she never openly cried after that first day. Instead, she kept shit organized at the clubhouse so the men who were out looking for her baby were well-fed and amply rested. Your dad aged twenty years overnight, I swear, but he never, not once, stopped looking for any trace of you. You have to believe me when I tell you this.”

---