Page 24 of Chrome Poppies

***

LEVI

Riding for hours did nothing for my injury, and I washed back the two 800 milligram pain killers with a glass of whiskey. I was a baby when it came to pain and Bear was no help; he was too busy on the phone with his old lady and kids. Did I envy his perfect marriage and family? Hell no. He was pathetic, and this lifestyle made him a fucking, preachy pussy.

I pulled my legs onto the bed, crying out from the surge of pain that shot to the back of my skull. No sooner had I become comfortable, my phone pinged, and I knew it would continue if I didn’t tend to it. I reached over, nearly dropping the phone and cursed at Bear when I caught it.

It was a text that made my night and I fist bumped the air. ‘Weatherly Vineyard - address: 1234 Thompson Avenue 12345. We should be there tomorrow, as will the package you’re waiting to be delivered.’

Even though, my informant’s text made my night, I was pissed that this was the first I heard from him in the last couple of days while we’ve been on this fucking goose chase. I could give him a reprieve and not punish him, but he was a lousy informant; especially for one who was going to be paid another $25,000 when the job was done.

“Bear. I got the address of our destination.” My comment fell on deaf ears, but Bear’s conversation with his toddler son didn’t. It was annoying and tempted me to smash the phone over his head. “BEAR!” I yelled.

“What?” He snapped back, resting the phone on his shoulder.

I waved the phone and responded with the same cutting tone, “We’ve got the address where Grimes is taking the kid.”

Bear pursed his lips and shook his head. He couldn’t care less and continued with his annoying call in the hall. My men weren’t taking this mission seriously and as I always said, if I wanted shit done right—I’d just do it all myself. Honestly, it didn’t matter who did what in this club, I would take the credit, anyway.

TWENTY-ONE

JENSEN

The Next Day

Plans to see the gigantic trees, as Emilie called them, were thwarted when Ezekiel pointed out the consequences of taking too many side trips. When I mentioned to Emilie we weren’t seeing the gigantic trees, she was indifferent about it. She was eight years old and I somehow believe a child her age couldn’t care less about seeing a forest. Nor would they appreciate the calming effects nature offers. The only thing that calmed her was the video game that hypnotized her.

During breakfast she was quiet, almost withdrawn. Emilie didn’t give me eye contact at all and concentrated on her pancake breakfast too intently.

I leaned across the table and whispered, “Emilie, is something bothering you?”

She didn’t answer me right away and moved my hand to get to her large glass of chocolate milk to wash down the mouthful of food. “My daddy did this all the time. He’d make promises and always break them. We were apposed to go to Disneyland and instead he took us to see some stupid rock called Yemity.”

I nearly choked on my eggs. Though she butchered the name, I knew she was talking about Yosemite. But her story wasn’t done. “Ozzy ruined the whole day when he took off and the forest ranger had to help look for him. That boy got a whoopin’ fierce and cried all the way home.”

It disheartened me to think Ozzy Senior was such an abusive man when he seemed so congenial, mostly. Of course, he was. A man will put on another face when his buddies are present—or his killer. “Emilie. It is better for you to remember the good times with your father and not concentrate on the hatred you seem to have for him.”

Emilie shrugged and glared at me, “There were never good times with Daddy. And all I can think of his how his stupid ass—I mean stupid butt—got my momma, sister and brother killed.” She grabbed her bunny and slid out of the booth, running for the exit.

Cursing aloud, I tossed a twenty-dollar bill on the table and chased after her, only to see her talking to one of the Chrome Poppies, Braeden Collins. Immediately, I armed myself, aiming the gun at his head. “You get away from her right now, you traitorous son of a bitch.”

Braeden held his hands up in the air to surrender. “Grimes - look. I’m not here for Levi or to hurt the kid. Some weirdo named Ezekiel sent me to you.”

I put the gun away and rolled my eyes to the sky, having no clue that Ezekiel and Franklin were going to intervene on this mission. It didn’t upset me, but it would have been nice if they let me know ahead of time. “Emilie, get over to the bike, I need to talk to Braeden.”

Emilie moved toward me and looked up, “You be nice to him, Jensen. Mr. Braeden seems like a nice guy.”

I smirked at her gentle demand and did notice Braeden wasn’t wearing the CP issued vest. “I gather you were kicked out or left the Chrome Poppies on your own accord.” I circled my finger around his upper torso. “You’re not wearing the vest.”

“I couldn’t stomach being a part of a group who is hell bent on murdering a child because of what her father did.” I nodded, never diverting my attention from his gaze. His eyes were locked with mine the entire time and never once shifted. He was telling me the truth. “Jensen, Levi and the rest of the guys were close to Napa Valley last night. However, they ran into a problem when someone discovered Levi’s tire was slashed.”

The laughter that escaped my mouth couldn’t be helped, and I sensed Franklin was the saboteur. “It’s Sunday, so I doubt any tire store would be open. This just bought us more time. But why are you here?”

“I told you, man. Ezekiel sent me as a reinforcement.”

I sighed heavily and rested my hands on my hips, “Thank you Ezekiel for having no faith that I can get Emilie to her relatives safely.”

Braeden arched a brow and his mouth gaped open, responding with a simple, “Huh?”

---