Club Scars (26 page)

Crux leaned on the bar and swirled the whiskey in his glass. Around him The Lords of Mayhem clubhouse buzzed with conversation and laughter. Almost the whole crew had showed up at a moment’s notice. Old ladies had ditched dinner plans and they’d all gathered for takeout pizza. It was amazing what a couple of phone calls could do. He wished all of his problems were so easy to solve. He looked up at a nudge. Reaper tilted his head toward the meeting room doors. Shoving off the bar, he snagged the Jameson’s bottle and followed his brothers.

Stuffing the last of a slice in his mouth, Mox closed the doors behind them and took his seat. Several lighters flared as guys lit up and chairs squeaked as they got comfortable. Zeke caught Crux’s eye and nodded.

“I’m getting tired of thanking you shitheads,” Crux muttered.

Laughter rolled through the room.

“At least this time I’m not asking you to put my damn house back together, but Kat needed her sisters tonight and I need your advice,” he continued. “This bullshit with her dad has got to stop. The bully tactics are stressful enough, but now the sick ass is fucking with her head. Today she got flowers delivered to her and the card was made out like they were from her mother.”

Guys shuffled in their chairs, looking at one another with disgusted shakes of their heads. Seeing the confusion on Murphy’s face, Crux sighed.

“When Kat was twelve she woke up to her parents fighting. She went downstairs and her mom had a split lip. I guess things were pretty tense but her mom did what any parent would do and told her that everything was okay and to go back to bed. Kat figures her mother just wanted her safe and away from the asshole. So the next morning Kat gets up and her mom is gone. Merrick’s story was that Kassandra left in the middle of the night. Kat is sure the asshole killed her. No one has heard from Kassandra Merrick since that night. Kat tried getting the police to investigate but she was a kid and when she pushed the issue her father had her locked up in a loony bin.”

“Jesus,” Murphy muttered.

Crux nodded, “Yeah, I can’t help wonder what he was doing while a little girl was raped and tortured.”

Murphy opened his mouth but Zeke waved him off.

“Now’s not the time for a religious discussion. Ginny said this really messed Kat up.”

“I guess she told you you’re paying for a window, huh?” Crux asked with a humorless smile. He sighed at Zeke’s answering nod. “You might have a better idea than I do how bad it was. Kat tried like hell to gloss it over with me.”

“Ginny said Kat was shaking violently and pretty out of it when she got there. She was with it enough that she was worried about Cam, but I guess the best way to put it is she just wasn’t functioning,” Zeke said, keeping his gaze on his cigar as he rolled it around the rim of the ashtray. “She was smart enough to call for help.”

Crux ground his teeth. “She’s not crazy.”

Zeke’s head jerked up. “No one said she is, brother. There’s no question Kat’s under a lot of stress right now and women deal with shit differently than men. We look for something to hit and they internalize until they can’t handle it anymore. A little meltdown doesn’t mean she’s crazy.”

“If it did they’d have locked Ma up a long time ago,” Rhys said, drawing chuckles around the table.

“What the fuck do I do? If I kill the miserable fuck I risk never seeing my kid grow up. If I don’t—” Crux said tossing his hands in the air in frustration.

A heavy silence fell over the table, each man pondering what they would do.

“I’ll do it.”

Everyone stared at Reaper. He shrugged.

“What?” he asked. “Who would suspect me? It’s not like asking Sambo to start a fire.”

There were a few groans at the familiar jab and Sambo flicked his Zippo at the cuff of Reaper’s shirt.

“It makes sense. Who’s a better shot than Reap?” Taz said, lighting another cigarette.

“This isn’t a shooting competition at a rally,” Murphy said, disbelief clear on his face. “If they can show prior calculation that’s aggravated murder in the state of Ohio and that means life at best. The brother of our governor is a death sentence.”

“I know you’re a cop, but the bad guys don’t always get caught,” Reaper said slowly like he was instructing a child.

“And sometimes they do,” Murphy snapped back. Rubbing his hands over his battered features, he shook his head. “Far be it for me to be the moral compass around here. You all have more experience with this incestuous bastard than I do, but I’m just wondering if we might want to try talking to him before we blow his damn head off.”

Crux’s fists clenched until they ached. He wanted to beat the fuck out of the stocky Boston boy.

“Tell you what stubby, when it’s your damn wife’s daddy that raped her and stuck her in a nut farm then you can go have a heart-to-heart with him,” Reaper sneered.

“It’s not your wife either and yet you’re willing to blow his damn head off!”

“You’re damn right I am because that’s what you do for a brother. If you don’t get that then maybe you don’t belong at this table.”

Murphy lunged to his feet, his hand dropping to his hip. Reaper uncoiled from his chair and others surged forward but Zeke beat them to it. Catching Murphy by the throat their president slammed him against the wall.

“Don’t you even think of pulling a weapon at that table,” he said, his hard stare pinning Murphy as much as his hand.

Realization washed over Murphy’s face and Zeke let him fall to his feet. Color darkened the smaller man’s cheeks and his voice was sheepish.

“Sorry. It was instinct.”

“You didn’t have a problem looking at things outside the box when we were in the Marines and I know you haven’t always toed the line behind the badge. You need to learn to dial the cop back a little and listen like a brother,” Zeke said, his voice low and serious.

“If you aren’t comfortable with what’s being discussed here tonight then maybe you should step away,” Bowie added.

Murphy’s eyes narrowed and swept the table. “Are you kicking me out?”

“I’m saying that if you have any doubt you can live with the decisions being made here tonight, that maybe it would be best if you went home.”

“You know me. If the team makes a decision I will stand with it.”

“I know you well, brother, but unfortunately not everyone here does.”

Sloughing a hand down his face Murphy searched the table. Crux let his rage and distrust show when the man’s eyes landed on his own.

“I owe you an apology. I swear it was instinct. I had no intention of drawing on you,” he said stretching a hand out to Reaper.

Reaper’s eyes flickered to Crux. Rolling a shoulder in a negligent shrug Crux left the ball in his court.

“We’re cool on that,” Reaper said, accepting the hand shake but making his reservations clear.

“I haven’t known a lot of you long but I know that those I served with will tell you that I take brotherhood seriously. If I sometimes bring a different outlook to the table it’s because I want to be sure that all avenues are exhausted in keeping this club and the family whole. No one here wants Cam to grow up without his daddy, or uncles, beside him,” Murphy said softly. “That said, I will stand with my brothers in what needs to be done.”

Boots and chairs shuffled as Murphy took his seat again. Everyone looked at Zeke as he dropped into the chair at the head of the table.

“Sending a goon to offer money and veiled threats isn’t really against the law. Since it hasn’t been Merrick himself, a restraining order would do little good. One thing that worries me is that I still don’t have a clear picture of what he wants. Does he really just want a place in Cam’s life? Even that arrogant ass has to know that’s pretty farfetched. Is he hoping to lure Kat back after all these years?”

“That isn’t happening,” Crux growled. “Neither of them.”

Zeke nodded. “Kat knows him better than we do. What does she think?”

“She’s confused. If he wants an heir, why not make one. Why come after Kat now? She still doesn’t understand why he gave up fifteen years ago. It was out of character. Kat wrote it off then that Merrick was afraid of me, but I don’t buy that. He’s too confident in his superiority to consider I might be a real threat. I’m a roadblock at best. So why not remove the block? Listening to Kat he was completely obsessed with her mother. How he could love a woman like that and yet torture her for his sadistic pleasure is beyond me.”

“Obsessed is the key word there. There is a big difference between obsession and love. John Merrick wants to own people the same as possessions,” Zeke said. “He thrives on control.”

“Toss in sadistic and it’s a Molotov cocktail,” Sambo said rolling his Zippo over his knuckles.

“So he kills Kat’s mother in a rage, or bedroom games gone bad, whatever, and then turns his fixation on Kat who’s just a kid,” Taz said, his face screwing up in disgust and confusion. “Kat’s right. If he’s as obsessed as you’re saying, why did he back off?” 

“As scary looking as Crux’s mug is, I have to agree that’s not it,” Eddie said, flashing a grin at Crux.

“Something Kat knows maybe?” Rhys offered.

“They don’t consider her a credible witness,” Mox argued.

“Maybe she got too old for him or he didn’t want Crux’s sloppy seconds.”

Crux kicked Taz under the table, his heavy boot drawing a pained grimace from his brother.

“I really don’t give a rat’s ass why he decided to leave her alone. It’s his renewed interest that is pissing me off and threatening Kat’s sanity.”

“Where’s the body?”

“I haven’t killed the asshole yet,” Crux said looking at Tech funny.

“Not Merrick’s. Where did he bury his wife? Maybe that’s what Kat knows and doesn’t even realize it.”

“The old asylum where they sent Kat has a cemetery on the grounds. She has always believed that he disposed of the body there.”

“Would he have access to it?”

“The Merrick family contributed generously to the efforts to keep Oakwood open,” Crux said dryly.  

“I didn’t even know they had insane asylums anymore,” Rhys muttered, hunching his shoulders in a shudder.

“They call them mental hospitals now to put a better spin on things,” Tech drawled. “My aunt worked in one in Georgia. Twenty-first century or not, a lot of those people are locked up in there, forgotten by family, and treated like animals. If they weren’t nuts when they went in they’ll make them that way.”

“Kat said they pumped her full of drugs that made her feel like she was going mad and that was the nice shit. Some of the other stuff was just ancient and barbaric. They left her strapped down over night and then wet her bedding down and opened windows so she froze her ass off. She was raped and beaten by her own blood while locked up there.” Crux shook his head and took a deep breath. It tore him up to even think of what she had gone through.   

“The more I hear about this sick fuck the more I want to put a bullet in his skull,” Reaper said.

“It would take some surveillance and planning to make sure it’s clean and doesn’t blow back on us,” Zeke muttered, tapping the ashtray with his cigar.

“Figure out his routine and pick a time and spot where he’s alone and put a long distance plug right between his eyes.”

“How close do you have to be?”

“It depends on the weather, but if I can get inside 1500 yards I’d say,” Reaper said with a shrug. “We’ll have to see what we can get. I can make a 1500 yard shot in my sleep.”

“Remind me not to piss you off,” Eddie said with a low whistle.

“I don’t give warnings.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if his death looked like an accident or part of a robbery or something?” Rhys asked. “There would be less of a motive question that way.”

“There’s a lot more risk in that. That kind of plan would require getting close and then you have the chance of being spotted with the victim or in the area by witnesses or cameras. Robbery saddles you with the added problem of how to dispose of the items and once again increases your chances of making a mistake and being linked to the crime that way,” Zeke explained.

“Listen to the expert,” Taz teased with a wide grin.

“When a crime is too clean we always look at law enforcement,” Zeke said with a shrug. “Do you have the hardware?”  

“I have a couple stashed that can’t be traced,” Reaper said, spinning his cigarette pack.   

“Stashed for just such a situation?” Murphy asked, his tone slightly incredulous.

Reaper nodded with a nonchalant shrug. “Doesn’t everyone?”

Crux wasn’t sure if Reaper’s question or Murphy’s expression was more amusing. He hid a grin behind the shield of his hand as he lit another cigarette.

Murphy muttered under his breath, the word
psychopath
clear enough. If he heard, Reaper didn’t take offense. History and discussion out of the way, the group set to planning. Drawing nicotine deep into his lungs, Crux held his breath for a moment and just let the drug wrap around his tattered nerves. Just talking it over with his brothers had taken a weight off his shoulders.

The motorcycle mobile turned slowly over the top of Cam’s crib. Kat smiled, looking around the nursery in the dim light. She’d chose the décor with an eye toward long term, decorating with pictures and prints of bikes dating from the vintage 1930’s to the current model year. Custom paint jobs and Harley Davidson orange provided pops of color to stimulate their little one. Maybe it wasn’t the cutesy choice most mothers made, but Cam wouldn’t outgrow it in two years either.