“Drag,” I say. My tone says I don’t give a damn, and part of me doesn’t. Still, Drag is a man I respect, a brother I love.
“You want to tell me why I haven’t seen your fucking face around here, Dance. I got to tell you, I’m not happy.”
“Drag, told you when you dropped me off, I’m done.”
“You still got our brand on your sorry ass?”
My hand automatically rubs the back of my shoulder, where the Savage MC tattoo is. It was forged through me, not by the ink, but by the blood and tears my brothers and I shared.
“That’s right, motherfucker. You’re part of us, so you want to tell me why you’re locking us out now, when we need each other?”
Fuck, he’s going where I’m not ready to go. So I throw up some other shit that’s bugging the hell out of me.
“What the fuck do you have Bull and Crush dragging that bitch around for?”
Dragon looks blank for a minute and then his face turns to stone. I’ve seen that look before and usually the person getting it, is about to die. I figure I’m at least safe from that, maybe.
“Watch your mouth. Red is family.”
“You can see how having my brothers claim the bitch that got me in this mess as family might piss me the fuck off, right?”
“Red didn’t do shit motherfucker. You got messy. You want to handle an asshole? You don’t go off, in a town we don’t own, with witnesses around. Dance, you’ve been around, you know how this shit works. You screwed the pooch here. That’s on you. I couldn’t get you out sooner and that shit? That’s on me. Way I see it, Red is the only one here free and clear.
Fuck. He’s right.
He’s not saying anything I don’t already know. It’s not something I want to acknowledge.
“She shouldn’t have…”
“Red was in love with you. For some fucking reason Nicole tells me the woman still is. I don’t get women and this crap, but I do fucking know it makes women do shit they shouldn’t,” Dragon growls, looking away from me to stare out the window. “Nearly got my woman dead. You get lucky enough to get that from a good woman you don’t mock that shit, Dance. You embrace it.”
“I think claiming a woman has made you soft,” I state the truth, ignoring the weird feeling his words send through me.
Love? Me? Fuck a duck.
“Fuck you,” Dragon barks back at me, but at least his face is friendlier.
“Carr…Princess is too young to know what love is, fuck I’m thirty-five and I don’t know what that shit is.”
“Way I figure, women have a better handle on this crap. Red’s just a few years younger than Nicole and I don’t doubt my woman one fucking bit. Now if we’re done with our Dr. Phil moment, we got shit to discuss, first being Red.”
I sit watching him. I’ve got nothing to say to that. I shouldn’t want to know. Anything and everything to do with this club and especially Carrie, has nothing to do with me. It doesn’t bother or affect me in the least. At least that’s what I tell myself. Still, here I am waiting for what he has to tell me.
Shit.
“Your mom asked us to pick up Carrie.”
“No fucking way.”
“Shut up and listen,” Dragon returns. I bite my tongue to keep my retort from coming through. I don’t know if I could take Dragon, we’re pretty evenly matched. I do know he’s my brother; I owe him everything. So, I shut the fuck up…for now.
“When you first…” Dragon pauses and I know he blames himself for everything. It’s not his fault, but there is fuck-all I can say that he’d listen to and I don’t really want to talk about that shit anyway. “When you first got put in the can,” he continues, “Carrie came to see you. Do you remember?”
Fuck yeah, I did. I was pissed at the world, at her for causing this mess, at me for making the mistake, at the way I wanted to hold her and kill her at the same time…at everything. My head stays a fucked up mess. It’s much worse around Carrie. I am NOT telling Dragon that, so I nod my agreement.
“You sent her away, but after that I guess, things started happening.”
“Things?”
“Started small from what I understand. She’d get notes taunting her with things no one should know. There were a couple of breakins. Her shit was tossed, notes left on her car, different kinds of shit.”
My jaw tightens and that uneasy feeling in my gut gets worse.
“And,” I prompt because I know there is more.
“There were accidents. At first it wasn’t recognized. Don’t know why, you would think even being fucking idiots, given the history of the case, that the cops would piece together what was going on. Some sick fuck definitely has it in for the girl.”
“What accidents?” I ask, feeling even more on edge.
“A bus she was riding had a blowout, food poisoning, equipment short circuited at the library where she worked. She was nearly electrocuted. Each time something bigger, something more obvious would happen, until the night of the wreck.”