Clear (Storm's Soldiers MC Book 3) Page 4

  “Are you?”

  “You know I’m not.”

  “I don’t know.” I heard her sigh. “I’m not mad Vaughn. In my mind, I can get that you need to be there for now. I’d just rather not see you till it’s over.”

  “And after?”

  The hole in my stomach widened as the line filled with only the sound of her breaths. “After…” she said. “After we’ll see where we are. I think I’ll be ok.”

  I swallowed. It wasn’t relief, but it wasn’t death either. “I can take that,” I said.

  “Good. Alright, then. I’ll talk to you later.”

  She clicked off. I stared at the phone as the light dimmed off. The night lay cracked open above, all those distant lights out of reach. There was a lot of places left for me to go, but there was nowhere I really wanted to be.

  I thrummed Viper to life and took off on a rambling ride. I roared up the freeway up past downtown, looped around to come back down, then did it again. I might have kept going north, maybe even out of Georgia, but my fucking gas light came on.

  I swore at first, but then checked the exits and started to laugh into the wind. I was smack dab in downtown Atlanta. And I knew just the place to fill up.

  The station lay empty when I rumbled in. Against the pitch black of the projects around, it shone like a lighthouse. The pump where my mom had died was back in service and I pulled up to it. I took a quick glance around and started to fuel.

  There were a couple packs of wild boys, but I met their gazes and made them see I wasn’t easy prey. It struck me that this was a power that Meagan would not have, even though they were her folk.

  In fact, I saw now that she and these boys weren’t that similar at all, once you got under the skin. Just like I wasn’t sure I was with the Soldiers under my colors.

  A scraping noise stuttered up behind me and I spun around. A tiny old black woman with grey hair and a gap toothed grimace stood at my back. She had a walking stick. I almost laughed.

  “Oh,” she said.

  “What?”

  “You ain’t that white boy.”

  “Which white boy?”

  She shook her head and started to head back to the gas station. “The one that keeps swinging ‘round every month or so on a bike like that.”

  Calix. I knew he came here for inspiration, but I couldn’t see what he’d have to do with this old woman.

  “That’s my brother,” I said.

  She creaked around, looked over her glasses at my jacket. “Hmph.”

  “How you know him?”

  “He came in to buy a pack of cigarettes once. I noticed he hadn’t bought gas so I asked him why he was here.”

  “And?”

  “You know the story, boy. You were here when it happened.”

  It took me a couple seconds to realize she was talking about the day my mother was shot. “So what?”

  “I was here that day too. The man that killed your momma shot me first.” She patted her hip and winced. Then she started to toddle back in.

  “I don’t get it,” I yelled at her. “What’d you come out to say?”

  Her body slumped. She swiveled back around. “I told your brother that I felt bad for his momma. You know what he said to me? He said it was too late for apologies. I’m not quick on my feet, but that sat with me, that he thought that I had any need to apologize.”

  Yeah, that sounded like Calix. Hell, that sounded like something I might even say not too long ago.

  “Anyway, you tell your brother then. Tell him I understand why he’s so angry. Tell him I forgive him.” She paused and gathered strength. “And tell him not to show his white ass around here anymore. Got enough trouble.”

  She went back into her store, leaving her words to echo in my head.

  It seemed like the sort of thing I might be hearing from other lips not too long from now.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Meagan

  Saturday dawned way too beautiful to be filled with hate. I lay on my bed trying to be gloomy, but the damn songbirds were whistling just outside my window. They couldn’t wait to greet the morning.

  I wondered how simple a life it must be up in the air, with nothing to worry about than staying safe and finding the next thing to eat. There was no past, no future, heck, no mind to be occupied by any of it.

  All you had to do to find true love was follow the song that sounded the most beautiful. The male bird might reject you, but it wouldn’t keep you on a leash while he sang trash about birds with feathers like yours

  The clock only read 8 AM. I tried to stuff a pillow over my head and go back to sleep, but my shut eyes filled up with images of Vaughn. They weren’t good ones. I remembered the first look I’d had of him, that night many weeks ago. He’d been hard edged and handsome, but there had been no trace of kindness on that face. His blue eyes had turned on me cold as ice, as if I were just another piece of wall to walk past.

  I believed him when he’d said it was an act, but it was an effective mask he could put on. He’d be wearing it today.

  I’d thought I’d feel fine about it if I just brought it up and we talked about it openly. I’d been meaning to call him ever since he left, but then he’d read my mind and called me. There’d been so much fear in his voice, so much doubt. I couldn’t just ask him to leave if it would tear him apart.

  But why hadn’t he read me? Why didn’t he see how truly messed up this whole situation was?

  I twisted my tension out into my blanket. No, if I couldn’t live with this, then I would have spoken up. He’d wanted to stay on course and I hadn’t diverted him. Now I needed to live with that choice.

  I popped out of bed to brush and shower. Soon I had coffee percolating in the maker downstairs. I sat on the porch with a mug of it in sweats, bathing in the earthy aroma.I had nothing for the day - no shift, no real work. I could study. There was never enough time for that, but I didn’t think venturing in my mind was a good idea.

  I flicked through numbers on my phone. There actually wasn’t an awful lot of ‘Vaughn’ in my history. We were either together or we didn’t talk. Today would fall into the latter category. I tried Marissa, cause I knew she lived nearby, but she didn’t pick up. It was a Saturday morning. She’d be on top of some guy probably.

  My next choice was Aubrey. I was just going to text her to ask if she wanted to gather Faith and meet, but I felt like speaking. She picked up, first ring.

  “Hey Meagan.”

  “Hey, honey. I didn’t wake you up right?”

  “No, no, I was already starting to get ready.”

  My mood dipped. “Oh you got plans?”

  “No, I mean I decided that I’d meet up with you after all.”

  I didn’t remember arranging anything. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what the hell, I’m close to downtown anyway, right? Why not join you and see what this rally is all about?”

  “The rally?” Oh, no. “I’m not going to that. I was just messing around.”

  “You’re not going?”

  “Yeah, no. I’m not.”

  “What the hell, Meg?” She groaned like a disappointed tiger. “You got me looking into this stuff. I’m curious now.”

  “What, you’re a white supremacist?”

  “Yeah, you know me, just looking for a reason. Ugh, no, I’m in psych. These people are interesting psychologically.”

  “Dumb, you mean.”

  “Whatever. In any case, I’m going. Please come? It’s gonna be so awkward if I’m standing there listening to that stuff without a certified black friend next to me.”

  “No, Aubrey, I don’t wanna hear that junk.”

  “Oh come on, you know they’re harmless. It’s like that crazy guy holding up signs on campus.”

  I had a panicked vision of her eyes roaming across a line of hard eyed bikers and landing on Vaughn’s face. He wouldn’t recognize her, but I doubted she’d forgotten him.

  “It’s gonna be boring, Aubrey. Just p
ointless sermons and stuff.”

  “Yeah, so there’s no big deal right? Well, either way, I’m going. Please let me know if you’re going to change your mind. Also, please change your mind.”

  I let out a nervous laugh. “Fine, but don’t hold out.”

  “K. Love ya.”

  The line clicked off. This was my fault. I’d invited this madness into my life. All of it, really, but this in particular. I paced on my creaking porch, rapping my fingers along the coffee cup and trying to picture a way Aubrey would pass over Vaughn. Maybe he would be hard to tell apart from his club. A bunch of buzzcut white guys in the same outfit and the same thousand yard stares? Yeah, maybe.

  The coffee was exactly the wrong move. It churned in my stomach and boiled up all types of conversations that awaited me when we next met. Aubrey was going there to psychoanalyze people, but I must be the more interesting subject. Knowingly dating a racist? Or even a guy who wasn’t sure if he was racist? Oh god, what if she invited Faith too? What a mess that would be. This thing between me and Vaughn would contaminate the rest of my life.

  I was starting to sweat and shiver. I reached for the door handle to go back inside, but stopped myself from opening. My issues didn’t disappear at the doorstep. I’d be even more alone inside.

  I itched my head uselessly. God, why had Vaughn put me in this situation?

  The world around me seemed to slow. A dizzying wave of clarity washed over me and I gripped the doorknob to stay up. Everything seemed more real. The wooden grains of the door stood out, the sounds of my soft little neighborhood chirped out crisp.

  And I knew. I knew exactly what it was that bothered me about the whole situation.

  I was turning Vaughn into another Rico. He hadn’t hit me, sure. Heck, I think he even loved me. But he was forcing me to hide his secret. He was out there putting on a show, proving to his family and club that he was who they thought he was, leaving me to be embarrassed for him. I was the dam holding his faults away from the world.

  Why should I? Was it my fault that I got beaten? Was it my fault I fell for a white nationalist? I’d held Rico’s crimes in for so long as if it was shame on my part, and they had eaten at me and reduced me to nothing.

  I wasn’t going to hold in Vaughn’s flaws. Let people know the kind of guy I was dating. If it seemed so messed up, then maybe it was.

  Maybe I’d have to deal with it as cleanly as I’d dealt with it before.

  I texted Aubrey: Fine, I’m coming.

  She buzzed back right away: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  I rushed in, set aside the coffee and got dressed to go out. As I was pulling over my sweater, static stinging me, another thought struck me. I grabbed my phone and dialed another number.

  “Hello?” Darryl said, grumbling.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

  “You wake up. It’s barely…9? Huh, why you calling so early?”

  “I’m in trouble.”

  I could almost hear him jolt to his feet. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Not literal trouble. But I could use you as an escort.”

  “Escort to where?”

  “Ummm, a white supremacist rally?”

  “What?!”

  “I know someone who’s going to be there.”

  “I…oh, really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That bitch ass motherfucker.”

  “Maybe.”

  I gave him the time and details. He agreed to meet in the park. This would only be the second time he was seeing Vaughn, but if it was destined to be the last, then I wanted Darryl to be around to help me see things straight.

  I finished getting ready and paused in the foyer, checking to see if I’d forgotten anything. After all, this was my first white nationalist rally - I couldn’t be too prepared. Nope, I was dressed proper. I had my brother and my friend on their way for company. I had a commitment to see things clearly.

  Good to go.

  The drive downtown stretched out forever. Finding parking was rough. Was this rally really that big? Then I remembered it was also just a nice Saturday morning.

  I texted with Darryl and Faith as I crossed Centennial Park. The place was vast and kind of desolate in the winter, but today it blossomed with life. The line to the Coca Cola museum in the middle was bustling.

  Everywhere I looked I saw people of all colors smiling and bustling and sometimes yelling at each other. Even the sidewalk water fountains were on. Little kids in puffy jackets walked up as close as they dared, squealing and running off once they got their first touch of ice chill water.

  I wanted to just sit on one of the stone benches around the fountains and watch them, they were so damn cute. But on the green further away, I could see a raised platform facing the center street. I could see police barriers and cars forming a line. A row of gleaming black and silver bikes leaned in on each other out on the road. A crowd swarmed around the stage.

  I drew towards it. Someone came running my way, but it took me a second to even notice that it was Aubrey.

  “Meagan!” she yelled, wrapping around me.

  “What’s got you so excited?” I asked.

  “This rally,” she said, her blond little head just bouncing with excitement. “It’s so fucking messed up!”

  Psychologists did love messed up brains more than normal ones. Still, I squeezed her hand. I was happy to have her. We walked towards the podium and crowd. They’d set up not far off from the CNN building. Good planning, I had to admit.

  I couldn’t see who was on stage as we came up the back, but speakers were booming someone’s muffled voice. I could barely make out words in his mumble. Hitler, this guy was not. As we came around the back board, I saw the crowd. A sizable throng of mixed faces swelled in the back. They were barred off by metal partitions interspersed with a few uniformed officers who had their back to the stage.

  Behind that, was a line of bikers. There were about two dozen of them and they were just as I had imagined: shaved, wearing mirrored shades and faces wrinkled with rage. They all had on that same jacket with the logo that Vaughn wore.

  These were his brothers. I didn’t see him, but I didn’t look too hard.

  Past the bikers was a much smaller crowd, but these were silent white faces, all turned up at an old man speaking on stage. He had on a tweed jacket, khakis and glasses, but I saw the resemblance immediately. This was Vaughn’s dad. A few other white people sat on chairs further back on the dais.

  I returned to the biker line for the sight I most feared. Before I could find it, I was tackled by another hug.

  “Hey, girl,” Darryl’s voice poured over. “Thanks so much for the invite.”

  He peeled off and I looked up at this earnest hard-edged face. It wore a smile. “Thanks for coming,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”

  “Oh, no, this is great,” he said. “Best comedy show I’ve been to in years. They just got a new fan.”

  Aubrey jutted her hand in between us. “Hey,” she said. “I’m Aubrey, Meagan’s friend from school.”

  “Pleasure,” Darryl said, giving a firm shake before turning back to the stage.

  Aubrey’s saucer eyes were still on him though. I’d seen that look before.

  “He’s not into white girls,” I whispered into her ear.

  “I see,” she said. “That’s just gonna make this more fun.”

  I rolled my eyes. This was turning into quite the day for introductions.

  The speakers rattled with applause somewhere behind us. The crowd started to boo and I came back to what I was doing here. I looked at the Vaughn’s father on stage. He seemed calm against the rage aimed at him

  “White brothers and sisters,” he said. “These words may be hard to hear. Places like this fortress of lies behind me and other news stations have buried the truth for decades. They have tried to make you forget the beauty of what we can be. Look around you and ask who forged this glorious city.”

  “Slaves, you prick!” someone
yelled at him. It wasn’t exactly true. Atlanta had burned as part of the Civil War, but the crowd started to cheer.

  “Oh shit,” Darryl said. I could almost hear him tense up.

  “You see him?”

  I got on my tiptoes and followed his gaze, but it wasn’t anywhere near the barricade line. My heart stopped. It was Rico. He was dressed in green scrubs, and was watching the stage, but somehow he must have sensed me, because he turned and smiled.

  “Oh, I see him.” Darryl started plunging through the crowd like the tip of a sword.

  “Darryl, no.” I wrapped my arms around one his massive ones and dug my heels to the dirt. It was enough to catch his attention. Darryl growled over his shoulder.

  “I ain’t gonna hit him, but I’ve got words.”

  “Forget it. Leave him. He’s not bothering me anymore. Just let it be.”

  “The past’s injustices do not warrant the present impurification of our nation,” Vaughn’s father went on. “We must restore our glory. We can restore our glory by coming together as a white race. A white family, once more.”

  I crinkled my eyes at the stage. Vaughn’s father’s face didn’t scream glory or revolution, but whispered sadness. The truth dawned in my head. This guy was a fan of history, but not the country’s. He was talking about his own. The white family was the one he’d lost when his wife had been murdered.

  Suddenly he wasn’t a professor of hate, but a grieving old man on stage, unable to leave the moment his life had been fractured. Were all his followers in the crowd stuck in their own minor tragedies? I’d been there. I’d found my way out. These people hadn’t.

  Aubrey was scribbling notes frantically into her tablet. She might see something more, but it was enough for me.

  “Hey, that your boy there?” Darryl asked.

  I followed his outstretched arm and saw his finger squashing Vaughn’s lean rugged face out at the furthest end of the biker line. He wasn’t facing out at the crowd, but staring down, not quite at the grass. His brow lay wrinkled and I knew he was seeing something in his own mind.

  His mother? Me? The truth of his father’s words? Or the sadness of them?