by Tillie Cole
“Shit!” Tank spat out. “That branch of the Klan are real fucked up. And I mean like real fucked up. Grand Wizard is Johnny Landry. The worst man I’ve ever met; total fascist bastard, as in extreme. He’s serving time right now, but he’s trained his crew well. No loyalty to no one outside of White Power. They get Prez, he’s dead. They’ll peel his skin off his damn bones just for fun. That or they’ll lynch him—it’s their signature. They’re old school.” Tank rubbed a long prominent scar that ran from the back of his shaved skull to the left side of his forehead. “I should know. When I got out of that life, this was their parting gift.”
My mouth dropped open. Tank used to be a Nazi?
Beauty listened to her man with shining eyes as Tank informed the brothers of the Nazis murder preferences. Suddenly, I choked out a small cry, trying to force back the wave of nausea building in my stomach. Immediately, Beauty ran over to me, throwing her arms around my shoulders.
“Shh, Mae. He’ll be good. It’s Styx. Ain’t no one getting that stubborn man to Hades without one hell of fight first. He’s The Hangmen Mute. He’s invincible.”
“FUCK!” Ky screamed.
I froze in Beauty’s arms, my full attention on Ky. He looked me straight in the eye, intense worry in his gaze.
“His cell’s dead.” Ky marched right up to me and planted his hands on my shoulders, his blue eyes imploring. “Where did he go? Think, Mae. Think. Any intel’s good.”
I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. “He just drove off. North, I think, after the truck. It had a sticker on the back, a swas… erm, a-a swas… I cannot remember the name!”
“A swastika?” Ky prompted, desperation haunting his expression.
“Yes, that is what Styx said, a swastika. He said he had to follow them to find their base. He told me to get you to call him immediately so he could give you the location. He said it was his only chance to go get them.”
Ky’s head lowered in disappointment and Tank stepped forward. “Ky, orders? A plan? You’re in charge now.”
Ky dug the heel of his hands into his eyes, groaning out loud. Shaking himself alert, he pointed at the brothers.
“Viking, AK, Flame, Smiler, get on the road. Try and find tracks, signs of Styx, fuck, anything. Call me if you find him. Meet back here in two hours if nothing.” The four men nodded and immediately headed out the door.
“Tank, Bull, get the brothers mobilized, the ones who’ve gone home. Get onto the cops on payroll, face to face. Make the bastards talk. Find out if any of them know where the skinhead fuckers might be hiding out. I’m hitting the road too. Meet back here in two hours. I’m hoping Styx is found before then, then I’m gonna kick his fuckin’ ass myself.”
Ky looked to Letti and Beauty. “You two stay with Mae. Styx’ll appreciate that. She’s probably gonna need y’all.” My stomach sank at his ominous words. Ky left in a hurry. He did not look back.
Ky thinks Styx is going to die.
My knees grew weak as I half collapsed onto the long brown couch. My hand covered my mouth.
“If anyone can take those fuckers out, it’ll be Styx.” Letti tried to be of comfort. It did calm me slightly. She always spoke her true feelings.
Beauty stroked hair from my face. “You okay, honey’?”
A sobering thought hit me hard. “He is going to kill people tonight,” I proclaimed.
Beauty flashed a worried look to Letti, who just shrugged. Beauty gripped my hand. “Mae, it’s the life they’re in. If he don’t kill them, they’ll kill him.”
I sat back, feeling deflated. The harsh reality of how Styx lived hit home… hard. He killed. Styx killed often and in large numbers. I had been taught that to kill a person was a mortal sin; killers go straight to hell. But I knew Styx, that is, the good side. Even knowing he takes lives, I could not bring myself to think ill of him. Lord, I want him… just him.
One fleeting memory of his handsome face made me feel hot and I struggled to sit still. He was so strong and so… raw. He must return to me. He must make me his… in every way. We were fated to be together.
The door behind us crashed open; its wood smacked against the wall with an enormous bang. Propelling me from my dazed state, I saw Rider staggering through to the lounge. He looked distinctly disheveled in his rumpled white shirt and crumpled jeans. Rider rubbed his bruised and swollen jaw. I had never seen him like this before. Not once.
Rider was drinking.
Rider did not drink.
Ever.
Jumping to my feet, I ran over to him and pushed away his hand from his face. I gently lifted his chin and asked, “Rider? Good Lord! Are you okay? What happened to you?”
Rider stared at me for just a moment too long, then gently pushed away my hand. The bleak look in his tired brown eyes cut me in half. “Ask your man.”
“What?” I whispered, my stomach churning. “Styx did this?”
“Yeah, sugar. He knocked me the fuck out after we shared a few words when he came and collected your stuff.”
“Why are you both fighting over me?” I asked brokenly. I covered myself with my arms, suddenly feeling cold. “You are both important to me, so why…?”
Rider regained his composure; then raked back his long hair with his hand, a small disbelieving smile on his lips. “You know why, Mae. You can’t be that blind.”
My eyes widened, reality dawning. “Rider, no!” I reached for his hand. “Please, do not say any more. I cannot hear it.” I fought back the swell of tears in my eyes. “Rider… I am with Styx. You… to me… you are my closest friend. Not…” I trailed off, not wanting to hurt his feelings.
Rider took back his hand and his entire body stilled. “You know what, Mae? Maybe Lois was right. Maybe it would’ve been best if you’d never come here to the Hangmen. Right now, the way I’m feeling, I wish I’d never met you at all.”
I stepped back in horror, unable to believe the words that had fallen from Rider’s lips. I did not believe him capable of being cruel or mean, and it felt like I had been stabbed in the heart. Rider’s words hurt more than a dagger.
“Doc,” Letti warned. “Prez’ll give you more than that damn bruised jaw if he hears you talking to his bitch like that. In fact, keep upsetting Mae, and I’ll tell him myself.”
Brushing past me, Rider ignored Letti and went behind the bar. Pit stepped back, clearly not wanting to get in his way. I frowned. I had not even noticed the prospect had been here all this time. I could not understand why he was not out searching for Styx?
Grabbing a cloth, Rider filled it full of ice with his good hand, then pressed it to his jaw. Rider’s eyes then scanned the room. He frowned and asked of no one in particular, “Where’s everyone?”
Letti walked over to the bar and confronted Rider. “Styx went after the Nazis alone. They’re out looking for him.”
Rider’s face reddened with rage. “Why the fuck wasn’t I called? I should’ve been told. I don’t believe this shit. I’m the fuckin’ Road Captain!”
Letti slammed her fist into his injured shoulder. Rider gritted his teeth and roared out in pain.
“I’m guessing because of that!” Letti replied, a sarcastic tone in her voice. She smiled to herself as she walked back to sit on the couch.
Rider glared at Letti, then Beauty, before looking at me. A flash of guilt followed by pain crossed his brown eyes. Turning to the shelves of liquor at the rear of the long, well-stocked bar, Rider chose a green bottle with an elk on the front. He then staggered back to his room without uttering a single word.
I stared at Rider’s bunched-up back and watched him go, his good hand favoring his injured shoulder.
Beauty linked arms with me. “Let him be, Mae. He’s just in a whole worlda hurt right now. Brother spends ninety percent of his time on his Chopper, out on the road. His shoulder’s keeping him caged here at the compound, and it’s killing him. Seein’ you with Styx, looks like it’s killing him too. But your focus needs to be on Prez. You’re his old lad
y now. Rider’ll sort himself out on his own. Mae, you pull up those big girl breeches and live the life you made for yourself. Styx, he’s Prez of the Hangmen mother chapter. Girl, you need to be the perfect old lady for him.”
Mother chapter? Once again, I had no idea what she meant, but I got that she thought I should be acting stronger than I had been of late.
I could do stronger.
Slowly inhaling a deep breath, I asked, “What do we do now?”
Beauty pulled me back to the couch. I was sandwiched between her and Letti. “We wait,” she replied. “We just sit and wait and pray our men come back in one piece.” Beauty then added, “With their hearts still beating in their chests.”
***
Over two hours passed and one by one the brothers made their return. No Styx. Each time the front door swung open, my stomach muscles tensed to the point of agony. My lungs seemed to stop working and crushing disappointment followed crushing disappointment on seeing every face but that of my man.
The only brother left to arrive was Ky. I felt if anyone could find Styx, it would be him. Ten minutes later, Ky returned, empty handed.
No Styx.
It was at that point my heart finally broke.
Ky had ripped through the entrance like he was being chased by the devil himself. He immediately scanned the lounge, his blue eyes desperately seeking Styx’s face. When Ky realized his best friend was absent, a distraught expression contorted his chiseled visage.
It was obvious. Ky now believed my Styx, my River—his best friend, his brother—was dead.
No one talked; brothers and sisters alike barely moved. A pall of silence hung heavily in the room as each brother contemplated the inevitable. The large Harley Davidson clock above the bar ticked loudly, telling us all that time was running out for Styx. The Hangmen sat on couches and chairs around the room and they all stared at the floor… waiting, just waiting. All any of us could do was wait.
Ky walked toward me and Beauty gave up her seat. She walked across the room to sit on Tank’s lap and she pressed her lips to his as they shared a gentle embrace. I envied Beauty at that moment. I watched her lovingly caress Tank’s cheeks, press her lips against his head. And there was Tank, holding Beauty as if she were the only woman in existence. I realized this is how a couple in love should be with each other. Would I ever get to be like that with Styx? Perhaps… perhaps not.
The brown leather couch sagged as Ky sat down beside me and I picked up my clenched-with-worry hand and gripped it in his; his hand was equally tense.
I lifted my head. Ky looked straight at me and blurted, “I kept you apart.”
Startled by his confession, I could only muster a weak frown. Ky squirmed in his seat, his blue eyes darting around the brothers to check they were not listening, before landing back on me.
“I told him you weren’t right for him. When you arrived. I told him he was selfish for wanting you. Told him you weren’t cut out for this life. Told him to stick with Lois and let you go.” Ky shook his head slowly as if in contrition. “I’ve been such a fuckin’ dick to him.”
“Why?” I swallowed hard, feeling the pain of his betrayal circling in my stomach. “Why would say such a thing?”
“He’s my family, my brother, and I pushed away his one chance at happiness for the sake of the club. Fuck. I railroaded him. He already gets enough shit with his speech. I thought taking on a brainwashed ex-cult bitch weren’t gonna help his rep. Gotta be a certain kinda woman to be with a brother, never mind the fuckin’ Prez. Was convinced you weren’t it. Styx asked Rider to watch out for you… reluctantly.” Ky’s head dropped, chin touching chest, as he stared at the floor.
“I could see it killed him, letting you go.” Ky lifted his hand and my hand to press against his forehead. “He would’ve owned you from the beginning if it weren’t for me. All I can think of is what if he don’t make it? What if he don’t come back? Then, fuck…” He sighed heavily, eying me in sorrow.
“He just got you, after fuckin’ years of waiting. He talked about you all the fuckin’ time, the bitch with the wolf eyes. Even searched for the fence for years. He’d drag me with him. We’d scope the forests all around Austin for hours. He only stopped searching when we went to war with the Mexicans. He’d about given up hope. His old man wouldn’t tell him where the drop site was, no matter how much he asked. Honestly, the places we dumped stiffs changed so much, I don’t think his old man could even remember. Then his old man went to Hades and that was it. Zero chance of finding you. “
My heart ached so much. Styx had been looking for me for years? He had been driven to see me again, to come back to the little broken girl he had briefly met one summer’s night? Dear Lord, I may never ever see him or feel his touch again. I did not feel I could cope with this pain in my heart.
“Mae?” Ky prompted quietly.
I took a deep breath. “You had your reasons for keeping us apart. You are a good friend. I can see he loves you very much.”
Ky’s blue eyes widened as he whispered, “Fuck, bitch! Rip my balls off. Rim my ass. Don’t just forgive this shit. You would’ve been with him all this time if it weren’t for me. Fuck! Lois probably wouldn’t have died either!”
I did not give a response. I could not. I was numb, silently terrified that Styx was dead. Someone else I cared about dead.
The long creak of a floorboard groaned behind us and I glanced over my shoulder to see Rider enter the room. His tired face broadcast confusion as we all sat motionless and in total silence. Then as the realization for our silence dawned, Rider’s face lost all color. It was all he could do to flop down on a barstool. Despite his differences with Styx, Rider seemed genuinely devastated by the apparent news.
As our eyes met, Rider’s expression slowly changed from shock to sympathy, and he mouthed, “I’m sorry.” This only served to rip my heart apart even further. They were both such good men. Both held a special place in my heart.
The clock ticked slowly, very slowly.
After fifty endless minutes of waiting, the mood in the lounge changed from that of vain hope to one of resolved certainty.
Ky reluctantly released my hand, my fingers feeling numb from holding his so tightly. Ky stood, the Hangmen, Beauty, Letti, and I watched him with bated breath. Tiff and Jules hovered in the cover of the doorway, eavesdropping on their lover.
“Brothers,” he began with a quiet, strained voice. “I—” Ky’s voice cut off as a distant growl of an engine sounded outside. Ky’s eyes sought mine before he sprinted for the exit. There was such a clamber of bodies jumping to their feet. The brothers were like a herd of buffaloes as they stampeded for the door.
Much to my great annoyance, my legs could not move no matter how much I willed them to. Beauty grabbed my hand, pulling me from my seat. That was all it took; my muscles jump-started, my mind hopeful and I sprinted out of the door and across the yard to the compound’s closed metal gate.
A single headlight approached and my heart jumped to my throat. I closed my eyes and prayed, Dear Lord, please let this be Styx. Please let this be Styx.
The roar of the engine grew louder and my eyes snapped open. Under the glare of the compound’s lights, a bike came into view. The rider? It was too dark to make out who…
No… I could hardly believe my eyes.
Styx!
Gripping the gate, cold metal beneath my palms, my heart beat faster as the bike revved down. Oh no, something was wrong. Styx’s movements were all wrong. Balance! He was slowly losing control of his bike.
“Open the fuckin’ gate!” Ky screamed at Pit. Pit ran to the gate’s lever and slammed it down. The heavy contraption made clunking noises, signifying movement, only to shudder to a stop.
“For fuck’s sake!” Ky called out and squeezed through the small opening between the fence and the gate. Pit ripped off the gate’s electrical panel and began fiddling with the wires, trying to fix the problem. Just in time, Ky grabbed Styx as he fell off his bike, no longer
able to precisely balance its heavy weight.
He appeared to be badly injured.
Before Styx collapsed completely, Ky wrapped his large arms around Styx’s chest. Styx’s eyes were glazed and unfocused. Leaning heavily on Ky, Styx whispered something. I could not hear what was said, but Ky nodded in my direction. Styx’s head lifted up, searching my way, then his beautiful large hazel eyes fixed on me.
Shrugging off Ky’s aid, Styx began limping toward me, blood drenching his clothes, cuts and slashes marring his face, and his dark hair was almost black with blood. He looked like he had been mauled by a pack of lions. Every inch of his body seemed to be bleeding, soiled or injured.
The brothers were silent as they watched their president weakened. Flame literally growled beside me, AK and Viking restraining him by his arms. From what, I was not sure.
I ran along the bars of the gate, heading for the small gap, but Styx aimed for where I had been standing and he slumped to the ground. With great difficulty, Styx tried to remain upright. He used the steel bars of the gate to bolster his waning strength and, kneeling on the tarmac opposite my man, I pressed my chest against the bars, grasping his face in my outstretched hands. Styx, my Styx, badly injured but still oh so beautiful: large hazel eyes, perfect nose, sharp stern features, and his rough, unshaven cheeks. He was so beautiful… so strong. And he desperately needed me.
“Styx,” I whispered as our foreheads touched. A sigh of relief slipped from his cut lips. Drawing back a little, his bloodied finger ran softly down my cheek. I did not care that the wet blood now staining my face probably did not belong to him. At this precious moment in time, I did not care what he had done to those men, even if he had killed them. I lost part of my soul to darkness as these thoughts strayed across my mind. Because if Styx was damned to hell, so was I. I would follow him into the fire.
Styx’s swollen lips parted. He was trying to speak. Suddenly, his eyes widened as if he had just realized there was crowd of brothers right behind me. Styx’s hazel eyes blinked and twitched furiously, and his Adam’s apple bounced up and down. He swallowed rapidly, desperately trying to loosen his throat and I saw his jaw stiffen, tension mounting in his lost expression.