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Thirty Eight

Thirty-Eight

Ana

T he second I wake up I feel it, there, in the pit of my stomach. A bad feeling. A reason to want this day to end as quickly as possible.

I sit up and reach for my phone, there are already two messages waiting for me. One from Joel: Stay home, Ana. I’ll call you later. And one from Cady: Take the day off, kiddo. I can manage the store on my own for one day. She knows what’s going on, that message makes it obvious.

I get up, grab a quick shower, and get dressed before heading downstairs. Freja’s making eggs and toast and the second she sees me she smiles and pours me a coffee. She knows what’s going on, too, they think I can’t see it. I can read them all like books now, and I don’t know whether that makes me feel safer or not. The whole vibe today is giving off is weird and frightening and it’s not even ten 0’clock.

“Do you want some breakfast?” Freja asks, an uncharacteristic sing-song tone to her voice.

“Just some toast, please.” I think about asking her if she knows exactly what’s going to happen today, and then stop myself. What’s the point? No one’s going to tell me anything. And yet, this time, I know it’s for my own good. They’re getting justice for Mama, and while part of me is glad that’s happening, another part of me is terrified. And as I sit back and look out of the window, onto Freja and Dag’s neat back yard, I feel something else; a mixture of shock and disgust that I’m now someone who’s okay with knowing people are going to die today at the hands of a man I profess to love. At least, I’m assuming that’s what’s going to happen. Are we still talking an eye for an eye here? And I do love him. Joel. I told him I loved him, and I meant it. I just need some time to get my head around everything, again: this new chapter of a life I never envisaged myself living. And suddenly, I’m terrified for a whole other reason.

“Here you go.” Freja places a plate of toast in front of me, and I look down and know that my appetite has disappeared. But I don’t want her to think anything’s wrong, so I quickly butter a couple of slices and grab my coffee.

“Thanks, Freja, but I’m going to take this up to my room if that’s okay?”

“Of course it is… Ana, you are staying home today, aren’t you?”

I just nod and smile and get up from the table, head back upstairs, and close my bedroom door behind me. What’s happening here, it’s bringing everything home to me, how dangerous this world is. And I thought I’d made peace with that, I really did. I thought it was all going to be okay – I thought I was okay because I had Joel, he’s the reason I’m still here. The only reason. I was going to leave, walk away, but then I fell in love, with a man who’s about to do something that once-upon-a-time would’ve appalled me. Mama was right, I did have a romanticized view of these men; this world. The reality is very different, but I’m okay with that, I really am. I’m used to it now. Aren’t I?

I set my plate of rapidly cooling toast down on the dressing table, take a sip of coffee, and walk over to the window. Outside it’s like any other ordinary suburban street. It’s quiet, because the school and work rush are over now, there are just one or two people milling about: a woman across the road is tending to her front yard while talking to a man balancing a baby on his hip. A young couple pass by with their little dog, I’ve spoken to them a couple of times. They’re nice. Friendly. Do they know who Dag and Freja are? The kind of world they belong to?

I close my eyes and rest my forehead against the glass, putting my mug down on the window-ledge. And even though I’ve tried to forget what my dad told me, tried to push it aside because I don’t want anything from him: I don’t want him in my life, but at the same time, hearing that Lars and Lea are okay… Are they really okay, though? Has he really seen them? Really spoken to them? The idea that he’s just telling me this to try and worm his way into my life, that won’t go away.

I open my eyes and sit down on the bed, reaching for my phone, my fingers hovering over Joel’s number, but I know that calling him is a mistake. My head’s full of second thoughts and what ifs and I think I just need to wait and see what happens when this is all over. When the job is done and Mama’s death has been avenged, because that’s happening today. And it’s everything I want…

Joel

“You okay with Skip leaving?” Wade asks as we drag the crate of weapons out of the back room of the workshop.

“Would it matter if I wasn’t?”

Wade prises the lid off with a crowbar, leans back against the crate and crosses his arms. “It’s a bit sudden, that’s all. Has he really thought about this?”

“For longer than you might think,” I say, pulling a semi-automatic out of the crate.

“You’re okay with taking over?”

I look at Wade through narrowed eyes. “You got a problem with me becoming President?”

“No, Jesus, of course not. It’s just that, everything feels like it’s happening at breakneck speed.”

“Tell me about it,” I murmur, throwing the gun back down into the crate. “Let’s get the truck loaded. Come on.”

“Joel?”

I sigh and turn around, hands on hips, I’m not in the fucking mood for questions, not today. “What?”

“Is everything alright? Between you and Skip, I mean.”

“Everything’s fine. But days like these, you never really get used to them. They’re just necessary.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Get one of the prospects to drive over to Dag and Freja’s. Make sure Ana’s at home.”

“Sure. You want me to do it?”

“No. I need you here. Get Kit over there then start loading the truck. I’ll be back in five.”

I head into the clubhouse, stopping by the bar first to down a shot of whiskey. For some reason I need the Dutch courage today. Then I go to the chapel, to find Skip. He’s sitting at the head of the table, head down, a cigarette between his fingers burning its way down as smoke spirals up into the air.

“Hey, Skip.”

He slowly raises his head, sighs, and sits back, the cigarette now dangling from his fingertips. “How’s it going out there?”

“Everyone knows what they’re doing.”

We’re hitting the Hawks in broad daylight, and that’s not how we usually do things, but we’re hoping to catch them off guard. We also know Renard is planning a meeting with them this evening, but rather than kill two birds with one stone – quite literally – we’re going separately. It’s too dangerous to wait until after dark, Renard has men arriving later this afternoon. We need to hit before they get here, I’m not sure we have the manpower to fight his army, even with the back-up we have lying in wait. Kasper, Kai and Wade will lead the men taking care of the Hawks while Skip and I take out Renard and his henchman. We’re hoping there’s just the two of them, we’ve seen no evidence of anyone else going anywhere near the house let alone inside it, we’ve been watching. But, like I said, we have back-up. We’re ready for anything. I’m just hoping it’s a quick inside and out job. A swift, clean operation. And then I’ll have to tell Ana everything…

“You ready for your part?” Skip finally takes a drag of the cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray in front of him. It’s overflowing, and this room smells of stale smoke and beer.

“I’m ready.”

Skip’s eyes lock on mine. “And Ana has no idea we’re taking her father out?”

“None.”

“Good.” He lights up another cigarette. “That bastard doesn’t deserve her.”

I lean back against the wall, sliding my hands into my pockets. “He’s here for Sofia too, Skip. He wants to avenge her death just as much as we do.”

Skip takes a long drag and stares at me, eyes narrowed. “You defending him?”

“Jesus Christ…”

“He’s here for Ana. And he’s here to take us down too, or have you forgotten that?”

“We don’t know if that’s true–”

“Come on, Joel! What the fuck is wrong with you? He blames the Hawks for killing her, but he blames us for her being there in the first place. And we all know the truth, that, ultimately, it’s his fault she was forced to turn to people like us, but he doesn’t see it that way. How the fuck we didn’t work that out in the beginning…” He trails off, his gaze wandering around the room. “I’ve been too distracted, since Sofia. Too fucking distracted.”

“Let’s just get today done, Skip. Then we can all move on.”

He looks at me, and his expression’s softened now. “Is she okay? Ana, I mean. Is she okay?”

“She tells me she is.”

“Do you believe her?”

“She’s been through a lot. I’m not sure she’s adjusted to her new life just yet.”

Skip gets up, starts pacing the floor, taking rapid, successive drags on his cigarette. “Look after her, Joel. And I’m not going to lie, I wish she was coming with me, she doesn’t need any of this shit. But if you promise me you’ll look after her…” When he looks at me there’s a whole lot of hope in his eyes, but we both know I can’t promise her anything. “Take care of her.”

“You know I will.”

“Get her pregnant, give her a reason to stay home and away from this shithole.”

He’s smiling now, his tongue in his cheek, it’s a way of lightening a tense mood that’s been floating around this place since the meeting yesterday, when Skip announced he was leaving: told everyone I was taking over as President. Word’s slowly getting around the other charters too, they need to know who they’ll be dealing with once Skip steps down.

“I’ll do everything in my power to keep her safe, Skip. That I can promise you.”

Skip nods. “I know.” He comes over to me, and we hug like the brothers we are. I’m going to miss him. “It’s a new era,” he says, patting my shoulder. “Make this place better, Joel.”

It’s my turn to nod. “We should make a move.” And we should. Timing is crucial today. We can’t afford to mess up.

“You got everything we need? You got silencers for the guns?”

“Everything’s the car.” We’re not taking bikes. It makes us too conspicuous. Ana’s old house, it’s in the kind of suburban street that doesn’t see too many people of our ilk. Bikers roaring into the cul-de-sac would bring far too much attention. A small, unremarkable hatchback, not so much.

“Good.” He leans over to stub out his cigarette, and heads for the door. “Let’s get this fucking party started.”

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