“Listen, just stay here with Maddie until this meeting gets over with and then we’ll talk. We’ll figure out someplace for you to go. Can you just do that?”
I nod slowly. What other choice do I have? I have certain death on one side and uncertain, but mostly probable death on the other. I can’t imagine what Maddie went through living like this, in a place where she knew how to duck and cover from gunshots or where she spent her time walking over beer cans and syringes. She doesn’t get the option. I’m lucky. And it is my duty to stay here in this house for her, to make sure she was truly safe.
Cal outstretches his hand, and I take it. He zips up the rest of my dress and hands me my shoes and purse. Like an adult with a child, he smooths out my ponytail, making me presentable for his daughter and public consumption. I’m the teacher again – the demure, sweet little teacher who doesn’t belong in a place like this.
As we walk towards Maddie’s room, I look down the banister to see the men filing in. They’re carrying guns and bats. Each is stopping to check out the damage to the walls and the windows. Maddie’s notebook, the one her father gave to me to look through earlier, is being trampled on by huge boots and some heels.
Cal opens Maddie’s door where she's sitting on the floor still, her drawing pad on her lap. She looks up at me with wide, grinning eyes. It’s like the shooting didn’t happen. She’s already over it. My heart weeps for her some more. Without instruction or prompting, I sit down next to her and pull out some color pencils from her box of art supplies. She rips me a piece of blank paper as I start to draw.
Her father looks over us – his two girls. He kneels down and pats Maddie’s head affectionately. “Miss Springer is gonna sit with you for a while. Jager’s downstairs so we’re gonna have a meeting. You’re cool, right?”
Maddie nods without even looking up. But her shaking hand tells me Cal isn’t seeing the whole picture. Maddie’s not the tough, take it all kind of girl he wants her to be. She’s breaking right here. Suddenly, I’m glad I’m here, locked up like a child with this girl.
“Good girl. Stay here until I come get you. You hear anything, you duck and get under the bed. Don’t answer the door to anyone.” Cal stands, taking one last glance at us before shutting the door.
Maddie returns to her drawings, her eyes fixed on her page. But I can’t bring myself to draw anything. My mind is completely overwhelmed with the idea that this little girl knows to hide under the bed and lock her bedroom door to strangers. What else has Maddie seen? What has her father put her through?
Chapter 11: The Cold Truth
CAL
Jager slams his fist into the table as the room suddenly goes from frantic chatter to absolute silence. This is not the day to goof around or test those in charge. This is the time to come together as Mustangs. United in war, divided by none.
He lowers his voice, forcing everyone from those flanking him from the front to those peons in the back to listen in, “Mustangs, we're under attack. We won't stand for the shit that happened in our own clubhouse. Those Coyotes responsible for destroying our property and damaging our women will be punished.”
The men raise hell with their voices, sending shrieks of agreement and applause into the crowded basement gathering space. I clap my hands slowly, adding to the noise. I’m as angry as every man here, but part of me wants to slow this down and not raise hell until we know exactly what is going on. Between the news about the missing Mustang and my run in with the bumbling supplier, something isn’t right. Why would they attack tonight?
Jager turns to me and motions for me to stand. I approach where he is standing and nod in agreement. As the second in command, I’ve got to take his side on this. No questions ask.
He pats me on the back as he said, “Our Vice Cal was there when it happened. And not only that, he did some recon today. What did you find out, Cal?”
I'd called him on my way back about the things Chris was telling me, but he didn’t seem that interested. It was if he had already discovered it for himself. Bringing me up here to tell the group was odd and totally out of place. Still, I clear my voice and loudly say, “Earlier today, I went to see Chris Taylor, our supplier at the old repair shop. He was acting odd, almost more suspicious of me than anyone else. He hired two young guns to protect them, but they didn’t have any alliance that I could tell.”
“What about the missing kid? What did he say about our brother?”