Page 25 of Total Carnage
"Vin?" Mama Celeste's voice brought me back, her eyes softening just a touch. "You carry the strength of the old ones. Trust it."
"Strength be damned if I don't know where to swing," I muttered under my breath, already moving, planning. I needed to find Raven and wrap her up in whatever protection I couldmuster. And if fate was coming for her, well, it'd have to get through me first.
“You have a place for me?” Mama Celeste asked. “I’m staying until the raven sees the light.”
“All the rooms are livable now,” Totgut said. He was our first Prospect, brought on by Moab. His first assignment…clean the place up, though Jameson had had enough forethought to make the place inhabitable once he had someone in line. “I’ll show her to a room.” Mama Celeste followed Totgut down the hall and out of view. The others left to their rooms, agreeing to a good night’s rest and reviewing our plan of attack in the morning.
The clubhouse faded to a distant murmur as I shut the door behind me, sealing myself in a room lit by a single flickering bulb. Ignoring the pungent mix of oil and old leather that clung to the air like an unwanted memory, I leaned against the rough wood of the dresser and caught my reflection in the dinged-up mirror. It was just me, staring back with those eyes that had seen too damn much.
But then the glass rippled, like a stone chucked into a still pond, and the face looking back wasn't mine anymore. It twisted and shifted until I was staring into the pale, spectral features of a woman I hadn't seen since I was a kid throwing punches in Arizona alleys.
"Ma?" My voice came out more of a croak, my usual swagger bleeding out onto the cracked tile floor. I grabbed onto the dresser, stabilizing my weakening knees.
Her lips twitched, almost a smile, but there was nothing warm about it. "Vincent," she whispered, voice slicing through the silence like the roar of a bike on an empty highway. It was a sound that raised the hairs on my arms, dredging up long-buried shit I thought I'd buried deep enough to never resurface.
"Is this some kind of sick joke?" I demanded, the tough-guy act slipping back on as easy as my leather cut. But inside, a stormwas brewing, a tangled mess of childhood fears and grown-ass man anger.
She didn't answer, just looked at me with those dead eyes that used to read me bedtime stories, now telling tales of roads I'd yet to travel, paths shadowed by death and danger. I could feel her reaching out from whatever beyond she was stuck in, clawing at the edges of my reality.
"Ma, talk to me. What are you doing here?" The raw edge of desperation in my tone would have pissed me off any other day, but right then, I needed answers like I needed air in my lungs.
“They let me come talk to you, Vincent.”
“Who are they?” I leaned closer to the mirror, raising my hand and pressing it against the glass. Mom’s energy flowed through the memory and touched my soul.
“I don’t know, honey.” She looked down for a moment. “I’m sorry we didn’t have more time, Vincent.” She reached out and touched my hand. “You’ve turned into a good man, Vincent. Momma’s very proud of you.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from that asshole, Momma.” I started to wipe the tears at the corners of my eyes, but Mom stopped me when her hand passed through the mirror. Like she’d done when I was a little boy, she wiped my tears, an act that only made me cry harder.
“Vincent. It’s okay. You’re a good man. You’ve been given a second chance. I begged them to give you a second chance.” She looked back as if someone was waiting for her.
“Don’t go, Mom. Please.”
“I have to, Vincent.” She tilted her head and smiled like she did when I was running around the house batshit crazy as a child. “I love you, son.” She looked back again and nodded. " Vincent, protect..." Her voice was fading, a radio station losing signal, but the message hit hard and clear.
"Protect who? Raven?" I shot back, trying to grab hold of the vanishing thread. But she was receding, her image dissolving like smoke in the wind, leaving me with nothing but the echo of her warning and a cold dread settling in the pit of my stomach.
"Fuck." I slammed my fist against the dresser, not giving a damn about the pain or the splintered wood beneath my skin. This was getting too real, too close to home. And whatever game the universe was playing, it had better be ready for a fight because Vin Reed played for keeps.
The ghost of Ma's voice still echoed in my head as I stumbled back from the mirror, the dim light of the room now just a dull haze around me. My heart was pounding like it wanted to break out and run for cover—hell, I couldn't blame it. The tough-as-nails exterior I wore like armor felt like it had been pierced by something I couldn't even see.
"Shit," I muttered to myself, rubbing at the stubble on my chin as if that could scrub away the unease. Vin Reed didn't do shaken; he did the shaking. But here I was, knees damn near buckling from some spectral message from the afterlife.
I shook my head, trying to clear it of ghosts and warnings. Raven... Protect... What the hell was coming down the pipe this time? I needed air, clarity, and maybe a stiff drink—or ten.
With a last glance at the now-still mirror, I pushed through the door and into the belly of the clubhouse. It was quieter than usual, like the place itself was holding its breath, waiting for something big and bad to roll up on two wheels.
The corridor led me to a small room at the back, tucked away like an afterthought, or a secret. Inside, Moab, Shivs, and Canon were already there like a trio of dark omens. Usually, we'd be shooting the shit or planning the next ride, but tonight, the air was thick with truth and trouble.
"Vin," Moab nodded, his eyes sharp beneath the brim of his cap.
"Boys," I grunted in acknowledgment, my hand instinctively going to the back of my neck, rolling out the tension. "What's this about?"
"Take a seat, brother," Shivs said, gesturing to the empty chair with a hand that told stories of brawls gone by.
I dropped into the chair, the leather creaking under my weight. Canon, always the silent type, just gave me a nod that said more than words ever could. We were brothers, bound by more than just ink and blood oaths, but tonight I could feel something new weaving into that bond.
"Alright, spill it," I said, bracing myself for whatever confession session this was shaping up to be. "And it better be good, 'cause if you hadn't noticed, we've got bigger shit on our plate."
