Page 93 of Givin' Me Fitz!
I was there to support Sawyer as he heard what his father had to say about the crazy shit that happened the previous night. I was pretty sure my guy and his father were still going to have a lot to talk about, but that would have to be another day. I was only celebrating that my Sawyer was released from jail.
The sun was rising, painting the sky a beautiful purple. I sat on the front porch of Sawyer’s house with a cup of coffee that Celine had made before I got up from Sawyer’s bed.
Keller and Sawyer had been at the clubhouse with the other members of the club all night. I couldn’t imagine what they were talking about, but I wasn’t leaving until Sawyer came home and showed me that he was okay.
“Sawyer is just like his father. They’re hard men to love, Fitz, but if you can tolerate the shitty moods and the times that he’ll put the club ahead of your relationship, I can promise you that you’ll never be loved more.” Celine took a seat beside me. “Do you understand the loyalty they have to that club? Sometimes I wish the whole damn thing would burn down.”
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t had those friendships in my life before, but when I left the Navy, I didn’t carry those friendships with me. In my heart, I believed I had some now that were more meaningful than any I’d had previously.
“Thank you, Celine. I hope you’re right. I love that man—” My voice trembled, keeping me from finishing the sentence.
Celine patted my arm. “That love will be the best gift you can ever receive and the worst curse you’ll ever experience. It won’t let you walk away when your common sense tells you to.”
While I wasn’t exactly sure what she and Keller had gone through, I could see she’d been hurt by Keller in the past. “But you’re still here, Celine.”
Sawyer’s mother reached up to wipe her eyes. “You can’t stop loving them, and love will keep you by their side. That’s the curse.”
Was she warning me to get away from Sawyer now before it was too late? If she was, I wouldn’t heed it. Sawyer was my life.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Sawyer
The executive committee was holding church, and my father, as the past president, was a guest. We’d been at it for hours, dissecting everything that had happened, now and when Dad was the president. Even back to when Grandpa Harry had founded the club.
We were no closer to figuring out what we were going to do about the Scorpions than when we’d sat down at the table. They were coming for us, and we needed to be prepared.
“So, what do you propose we do, Abner?” I was at the end of my patience.
“Willy Roundtree is a puppet. He’s doing the bidding of Brando Carrey while he sits in jail, and with his release not far off, the club needs to instill the fear of hell in them. The first thing I’d suggest, and it’s completely up to the executive committee, is that TJ and his grandfather disappear for right now. TJ will be their target for not throwing the fight as they’d insisted, and they lost an assload of money. They’ll want revenge.”
Much to our surprise, Jim Middleton was being held by the LVPD. One of Fitz’s coworkers knew a cop who was kind enough to tell him that Jim was a suspect in Ricky Marlow’s murder. Of course he hadn’t killed Marlow, but I couldn’t speak up or I’d be sitting in the cell with Jim. I needed to talk to Fitz because I wouldn’t let the old man be punished for something he didn’t do.
“What about you, Dad? Where are you going? Won’t they come after you and Mom?” I’d heard a lot from my father about what was going on behind the scenes while he was negotiating with Ricky Marlow. The calls. The threats against me that I had no idea about, and the idea that Ricky had suggested—and my father approved—the Scorpions should rob the dispensary and that we should file a claim with the insurance company to be compensated for the loss instead of retaliating.
“How did Boyd get involved?” I still wanted to kill that bastard for his part of the robbery.
“He was a fucking snitch. He’d call me about every move you made, bitching and moaning that you were queering up the club and that it wasn’t fun anymore. His whining drove me nuts. When he told me Ricky had a friend in the Scorpions and they were thinking of leaving the Cowboys and joining forces with the Scorpions against the club, I had to step in.
“I tried to talk them out of it, but they’d already talked to some of the Scorpions and were going to do something to show you that you weren’t in charge of the club. That was the plan to rob the dispensary. I said I wouldn’t warn you, and I’d work with them against you. I’m still not sure if some of the less active members are involved.
“You think you’re doing those guys a favor by not requiring them to participate in some of the shit the club does? The reason for being in a club is to be part ofsomething. They don’t feel like they fit in because the club is changing too fast for them. You have to show them that while the membership might look different, it’s still the same brotherhood it was when I ran it.”
I was afraid my teeth were going to break I was grinding them so hard. “What, you think I’m not doing a good job running the club?”
“Look, Sawyer, I stayed out of shit when you and the executive committee decided to get involved with that Torrente kidnapping clusterfuck. I wanted to step in because I knew you were going to make more of an enemy of the Scorpions than just the usual club rivalries. Your mother and Werner Meyer told me to let you handle it because the cops were involved and by me stepping in, it would only make things worse between the clubs and put pressure on you to do shit the way I said instead of doing it your own way. I should have listened to my gut.”
Werner had been the vice president under Grandpa Harry and continued under Dad until they both decided to step down. Werner lived in Arizona at some retirement community, last I’d heard. I’d thought Mom and Dad would have moved there, but they’d chosen San Diego instead. The doctor Mom was seeing in Las Vegas recommended her doctor in San Diego because she’s a specialist in COPD.
“Were you pulling strings behind the scenes as that prick Ricky said?” That was the part that still stung.
Keller held out his arms and glanced around the table. “Did I call any of you and tell you to do shit behind Sawyer’s back?” As much as I hated it, I glanced around the table to see all my brothers shaking their heads. That was a relief.
Car tires crunched the gravel in front of the clubhouse, so I stood from the table and went to the window, peeking through the wooden shutters. It was T-Roy’s ’68 Camaro that had belonged to his father, Gordy, before he and Mae were murdered by the Scorpions. T-Roy’s expression everyday showed there would be no ending to the saga with the Scorpions until his parents were avenged.
He jogged around the front of the car and opened the passenger door. He folded the front seat down and dragged someone out by the rope he had around their booted feet. I hurried to the chapel door and out into the clubhouse. When I opened the front door, I saw who T-Roy was dragging—Boyd Townsend, who was trussed up like a hog on a spit.
“Fuck, that’s gotta hurt,” Hobie said next to me. Boyd’s head was bouncing on the gravel as the rough edges cut into his scalp. It hurt alright—the white rocks were stained with red as T-Roy continued dragging him with Boyd screaming loud enough to wake the dead.
