I stumble back towards Maddie’s bed, unsure of what to do. The house is silent now. Not a soul in the house remains. I pull the curtain back from the window to see a few motorcyclists still lingering. They nod to Grandma Bernice as she, as quickly as she could, walks Maddie to her car. They let her escape, but me, I knew would be a nonstarter.
I lay back down, curling up to Maddie’s pillows. It is late. It has to be at least midnight. Normally, I would be in bed with a cup of tea and a stack of papers. Now I am trapped in the worst safehouse in the world waiting for death or salvation. And now I have to think of the long term on top of all that. My mind drifted silently to the world I wanted to go back to as I hold back the tears I long to cry…
“Michelle? Michelle?” I'd fallen asleep and woken up to a commotion. I can hear the voices of men shouting loudly. They were celebrating. Cal tousles me some more, forcing me to roll over to face him, “Come on, get up.”
My eyes struggle to focus, but the dim sunlight from the window forces them alert. I make out his face, the stubble on his chin, the way his eyes lit up wildly. His black shirt is dirty, covered in what looked like mud. It’s caked onto his jeans and boots. His brown hair has pieces of whatever it was matted into the strands.
He looks back at me frustrated. I haven’t moved quickly enough for him. His arms scoop under me and lift me by my knees and shoulders. He carries me down the hallway towards his bedroom, shutting Maddie’s door with his foot. Once in his room, he places me down gently on the bed and begins to remove his clothing.
I scoot back towards the headboard, unsure of what to do. When he takes off his top, I immediately spot the red, bloody marks up his chest, bruising his skin. They mingled with his black tattoos, making it look like some horrible modern art piece on his body. I sit up and lean in towards him, placing a hand on one of the bruises, “What happened to you?”
He withers away from my touch, clearly in pain. These are fresh marks, totally new. Taking a few steps away from me, “Nothing. Just riding stuff.”
“Cal, what happened? That’s not normal riding stuff.” The bruises were in circles concentrated on his chest and stomach. Some looked deeper than the others, but the worst were right on his ribcage. He would've had to crash his bike several times to get marks like those.
He looks back down at me, totally devoid of humor as he commands me, “Don’t ask questions.”
I cross my arms, completely and totally pissed off. I've had my fill of this secret cult gang. “Why the hell not? You lock me up in your daughter’s room for hours only to get a warning that I was gonna die if I stayed with you, and then you come back here covered in bruises and I’m not supposed to ask what happened? How in the world does that make sense? If I'm forced to stay here, I at least want to know what the fuck is going on!”
Cal bursts into a smile as he heads down next to my spot on the bed. He places his two arms on either side of me as he looks into my eyes, “I’ve never heard you cuss before, Miss Springer. I've got to admit that it’s kind of hot.”
I push him off me as he leans in to nuzzle my neck. “Don’t play games with me, Cal! I want to go home or at least get some answers. Are you gonna tell the truth or not?”
He stands up, irritated that I rebuked him. “No. I’m not. The less you know, the safer you are.”
“More like the less I know the more you control me, right? After all, that’s what happened to Maddie’s mom.” He takes a step towards me, his hands turning into fists. “That’s what her mom told me. She said if I stayed here with you, you would turn me into her, or at least what became of her.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” His breathing is hitched, as if it is trapped in his throat.
“No! I don’t!” I shout back to him, “Because you won’t be honest with me, and tell me why the fuck I'm here and what happened tonight!”
“You wanna know what happened, Michelle? You really want to know?” I nod my head at him slowly. I could tell I was about to get some reality check that I maybe didn’t want to hear. “We dug up a dead body – one of our brother’s who was shot and killed by the Coyotes. Then we raided their clubhouse and did the same thing they did to us. But this time we made sure the job was done.”
My mind stopped thinking about the bullets spraying through the drywall and windows. Glass everywhere, my mind screaming. “No…”
“Yeah, Michelle. Because that’s how these things work. An eye for an eye. Blood for blood. We do what we gotta do.” He sounds just as upset as I am. Unlike the guys downstairs clinking bottles and hollering wildly, Cal seems just as affected by this as me. He’s different, at least, he's acting different. Still, he ads, “Those fuckers deserve whatever they get. They killed my girl, Michelle. They killed her, and I’ve wanted to get them back ever since. Now I have my revenge.”
Chapter 13: End Games
MICHELLE