Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Rigs

Having Mattie at the clubhouse all day has been wonderful and seeing how dedicated she is to finding those kids warms my heart. Nothing seems to slow her down. It’s pretty awe inspiring to watch her in action, and I can’t seem to take my eyes off her. She told me that when she got diagnosed with MS in her mid-twenties, she thought her life was over. She hadn’t known much about the condition then, and I guess getting a diagnosis like that out of the blue would throw anyone off track. It’s the relapsing-remitting type which means she has flare-ups and then returns to baseline, unlike Siege’s mom who has the progressive form of the condition. She’s on a bunch of meds to control the symptoms and she said as long as she takes good care of herself, then other than when she’s having a flare-up, she does okay.

Tonight we stay up late organizing the last of her files, I’m tempted to tell her to take it easy but then I remember what she’d said about people trying to look after her or treat her like an invalid. She’s a grown woman, if she’s tired then she’ll tell me. When we’re finally done, we have a stack of thirteen pictures. Mattie spreads them out on the table between us. I lean over and look into their innocent faces. Of the missing children in the files, these are the ones we might have enough information on to actually locate.

“What do you think we should focus on finding first? Mattie asks.

I rub my chin as I think over her question. “Can we arrange them in order of the dates they went missing.”

“Yes,” she responds eagerly. “I wrote basic information on each child on the back of their picture.”

I watch as she flips each of the photos over to check the dates they went missing and then organizes them all in a line down the center of the table. “This is Jennifer Williams. She went missing little over six years ago.”

I listen as she goes down the line telling me each child’s name and the date they went missing. Placing her finger on the edge of the last photograph, she says, “This is Evan White. He went missing from state care seven months ago.”

When I bend over to look at the picture, I see right away there’s something different about him. He’s much older than the other kids. All the rest look to be between five and ten years old, Evan is clearly a teen. Mattie had said earlier that she’d been trying to find the kids who’d been gone the longest, while I can see why she did that I wonder if we can try it a different way.

“I think we should start with the last kid that went missing. It might be easier to pick up the trail of someone who just recently went missing.”

She nods thoughtfully, “I guess I couldn’t stop thinking about those poor kids who’ve been gone for years. Every extra day must seem like a lifetime. But you’re right, maybe starting with the most recent might give us a lead.”

I push his photo toward her, “Tell me everything you know about Evan.”

She picks up Evan’s picture and begins reading information from the back. “Evan White is fourteen years old. As you can see from his photo he has black hair, brown eyes, and a slight build.” After a thoughtful pause, she says, “I don’t remember this kid, his case supervisor was Margo Cummings, she’s retired now. His last foster placement failed. The foster parents reported they could no longer handle him, because of his aggression and moodiness”.

“Poor kid, you think he was acting out because of something that happened in the home or before he got there?”

She shrugs, and I can see she looks tired.

“I think we’ve gotten a lot done in one day. It’s getting late and you’ve got work early in the morning, so maybe we should call it a night. While you’re at work tomorrow I’ll read through the case information you’ve accumulated on Evan and see if I can come up with any ideas. If you’re up to working on this some more tomorrow evening, we can pick up where we left off.” I know I had resolved not to fuss over her, but this had nothing to do with her MS. We really had done a lot of work and had been on the go since breakfast.

Mattie stretches her arms above her head and yawns. “I didn’t realize how tired I was getting until you mentioned calling it a night.”

I scoop up the pictures and lock them away in the filing cabinet. We head to my suite, making small talk along the way. Despite her tiredness, Mattie is absurdly impressed with our building, saying it’s much bigger on the inside than it looked from the outside.

“That’s because we have a full basement plus a sizable attic that’s been converted into living accommodation. When Claw first found this building, it was a disused fire station. The part where the vehicles were kept became our auto repair garage, which was initially the main business we had. There were obviously some rooms for the on-shift firefighters, so it didn’t take much work to turn them into self-contained suites. Over the years we built into the attic space and the basement, plus an extension for the bar area.”

“Are you the only one who lives here full time?” Mattie asks.

“The only patched in brother, Dutch lived here until a few months ago, now he’s with Joy. Over the years other brothers have stayed here on and off. But now it’s just me and the prospects.”

“If you don’t mind me asking how many brothers are in the Savage Legion? There always seems to be people coming and going whenever I’ve been here.”

“Our club was splintered a few years ago. We lost about half our members at that time, some were killed, and some joined the Hellfire Hounds MC. As it stands now, eighteen patched members including myself and nine prospects.”

I unlock my suite and hold the door open for Mattie.

“I don’t know if I mentioned this during lunch, but you have a very nice apartment. The aesthetic it’s very clean and uncluttered,” Mattie comments as she sits down on the sofa in my main room.

I sit in my favorite armchair across from her and look around the room trying to see it with her eyes. “I’m not the kind of man who has a lot of sentimental attachment to possessions other than books. My attachments are to this club and the people in my life that I care about. How about yourself, Miss Mattie, do you collect anything in particular?”

“Not really. My apartment is too small to hoard a bunch of useless items. I’ve always been more focused on my job and as the hours are often long, home is more the place I sleep.”

“Surely, you have some small pleasures in life?” I ask curiously.

“I like to dine out occasionally, catch a movie or play, sometimes go swimming, and before I realized kids were going missing in our area, I used to enjoy trivia night at our local pub. Cleo and I used to go every week. It was our guilty pleasure I guess you could say. What about yourself, Rigs? Do you have hobbies outside the club?”

“I’m a man of simple pleasures, I enjoy riding my motorcycle on long road trips, checking out the scenery and reading, particularly books on spirituality and philosophy.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever known a biker minister,” Mattie states quietly.

“Like I said before, I don’t consider myself a minister or even a believer in organized religion these days. I still believe, but…” I trail off wondering whether she wants to hear the full story of how I turned my back on the church. I guess she doesn’t, so I steer the topic away. “I am a state licensed wedding officiant though so I can perform marriages and such. But here, when my club brothers come to me with their problems, I don’t respond from a place of religious teachings so much as from a place of compassion. I just walk them through the steps of finding a solution to life’s problems they can live with. I want them to be able to be proud of the man they see in the mirror every morning.”

‘If you don’t mind me asking, what made you turn away from organized religion. What happened? Actually, forget that, how did you get into it in the first place?”

Mattie’s questions brings back all the disillusionment I felt as a chaplain in the Marines. But as she’s asking, I decide to answer her question as honestly as possible. “I told you how Claw took me under his wing after my mother died. At the time I had no other family and was living in a group home. I was out of control then, fourteen years old and already acting out. You want to know how I met Claw? I actually tried to steal his Harley.” I laugh thinking back to how stupid I was then, I didn’t even know how to ride, but I thought I could try and sell it to someone. “Anyway, rather than kick my butt which is what I deserved, he decided to make it his personal mission to get me straightened out. Between him and the minister at my church, within a few years I could ride like a pro, and also, I’d decided on my future. So, I went to theology college and eventually became a Marine chaplain.”

“What about the MC, you said that you’d formed it with Siege’s dad, was this before or after you became a minister?” Mattie asks, I realize she’s actually interested in learning about me.

“Claw had a strong sense of community—he also knew there were many men he served with who lost their way once they were discharged. The military gives you a sense of belonging and it was on a ride one day when he was on leave, that he told me about his dreams of starting a motorcycle club. Something he could focus on when he left the military. At the time he was in his early thirties and had young kids—Siege and his sister. He had a year left before he could leave, and he’d decided that he didn’t want to be a career soldier, so I guess that’s when the Savage Legion MC was born. He served with Tank and Dutch and all four of us banded together.”

“What did Claw think about you becoming a chaplain? I don’t mean to make assumptions but that doesn’t seem like something that would mesh well with a biker lifestyle.”

“We’re not a one percent club, some bikers are outlaws, but the Legion was started as a way to help those in need. Rudderless teens like me, or jaded veterans. Anyone who craved family and brotherhood. He knew that my faith was important to me, and he saw that it helped.”

Talking about those early times makes me anxious as hell. I get up and walk across the room to pour myself a whiskey. “You want one?”

Mattie nods in agreement. Handing her the drink, she thanks me, and I begin pacing as I continue my life story.

“I actually enjoyed working as a chaplain, but things happened that got me disillusioned.” I pause, my mind going back to those days.

“Did something in particular happen or was it a slow realization that it wasn’t the career path for you?”

“I quickly came to realize what the soldiers I worked with needed was kindness and compassion, rather than pretty words about God’s love. A Marine who’s just seen his buddies killed by enemy fire, or had his legs blown off by an IED doesn’t want to hear that it’s all part of God’s plan for them.”

Mattie takes a mouthful of her whiskey and nods in understanding.

“There was one incident that was the decider. It’s what got me dishonorably discharged from the military and struck off as a minister.” I sit back down in my armchair and take a sip of my drink to ready myself.

“One night on base, this Marine asked if he could speak with me in private. He had something he wanted to get off his chest. I’m guessing he thought I was a priest or something and whatever he said was like a confession. He told me he’d been sleeping with his cousin who lived with his family, and he was worried about it. I know it’s legal in some states, but he was from Texas where it’s illegal. So I started giving him advice, saying he has to do what he thinks is right. Then he starts saying how it was all her fault, how she was coming onto him, walking around half-naked. I was about to tell him that women have the right to dress how they want, but then he looks at me and says, ‘if she’s like that now, then how’s she gonna be once she’s in high school?’  She was only thirteen, for God’s sake! I lost it and started punching the fucker, I was still punching him when the Marine Corps Military Police pulled me off him.”

I stop talking and look at Mattie, her eyes are wide, “What happened?”

I summarize the rest of the story, “I got thrown into the cells, he ended up in an ICU for months. I was discharged from the military and my ministerial license was stripped. I escaped criminal charges, because no judge is going to convict a man for beating a pedophile bastard to a bloody pulp.”

“What happened to the Marine?” Mattie asks.

“He’s doing twenty years, so as far as I’m concerned it was worth it.”

“That’s quite a story of self-discovery and determination. You should consider writing a book about your life from teenage tearaway to respected minister.”

I snort a laugh, “And then to middle-aged tearaway. I’m not entirely certain my hard-won lessons would be all that interesting to anyone else. They would likely see me as a washed up has-been who turned my back on God’s teachings.” Taking another sip of my drink, I take a moment to organize my thoughts. “What about you Miss Mattie? Are you part of one of the local flocks?”

She starts shaking her head almost before I finished asking the question. I guess I’ve hit a sore spot. “No way. I try to be a decent person, but I have never felt a need to incorporate organized religion into my life. My parents went to church and took me with them when I was a child. I wouldn’t call them devout by any stretch of the imagination. It was more that they went to church because that’s what they were taught to do themselves growing up. When I was a teenager, I started filling my weekends with friends, study groups and swimming. I decided to stop attending church with them when I was a teenager, and they didn’t bug me about it. After that I just really never gave it any more thought.”

“Working as a supervisor for Child Protective Services have you learned to be suspicious of religious leaders?”

“No, not particularly. We don’t see an increased level of predation among members of the clergy. It happens in exactly the same percentages as the general population. It’s just more shocking because you expect better of religious leaders. I am continually disappointed that many churches rug sweep problems instead of reporting them to the authorities.”

“I think we hold people like that to a higher standard, and so we should. People in a position of authority—be they religious figures, law enforcement officers, military commanders and other people that are supposed to be operating in roles of protectors. They all signed up and swore an oath to protect people from predators and evildoers. So, when it’s them who are the perpetrators, it’s an unforgivable breach of trust.”

“I suppose there’s a dark side when it comes to supporting people in need. That’s always been the hardest part for me, learning things I never wanted to know about how depraved people can be to one another. Sometimes I wish I could take a pill and forget it, but that’s part of the job that we can never turn away from.”

A short silence spins out between the two of us and I wonder how our conversation turned so dark. It seems tactless to change the subject, but I feel like I should say something to lighten the mood because neither of us wants to fall asleep with this on our mind.

“Do you still like to swim? If so, maybe that’s something we can do as a stress reliever.”

“I do still enjoy a good swim and it’s something that my physical therapist recommends. Though with the stress of the past few months and the search for these missing kids I haven’t swum in a while. Nothing else matters to me right now.”

“I agree that should be our top priority. However, if we don’t take care of ourselves, we’ll eventually burn out and not be much use to anyone else. I try to go swimming three times a week, while riding is my favorite way to relax, hunching over the handlebars and hugging tight curves can sometimes play havoc on my back and it’s a great way to unwind. One of our club brothers has a private pool and he’s generous enough to allow us to use it whenever we like.”

“I would definitely love to join you some day.”

“Well, if you’re not too tired after you finish at the office tomorrow, maybe I can pick you up from work, and we could get in a swim before diving into this case?”

Mattie nods her agreement, “It would be nice to start with a clear head. I’ve looked at those files so many times and just couldn’t manage to piece together any clues. At this point I’m willing to give anything a try.”

“That’s great. Did you pack a swimsuit? If not, I can get one of the prospects to buy one tomorrow.”

Mattie laughs, “It really is like a spa break. No, I didn’t pack one so if they could do that it would be great. I’ll sort out the cash tomorrow morning.”

“No need Miss Mattie, I told you the Savage Legion Spa Retreat is all inclusive, we’ll provide anything you need. I can put it in the storage compartment on my bike when I pick you back up in the afternoon.”

“I’ve never ridden on the back of a bike before.”

I realize in my excitement I’ve totally forgotten about her disability. Could she hold on okay, and what about her crutches? “If you’d rather not chance it, I can grab one of our club vans like we used earlier today to haul all your stuff to the clubhouse.”

Mattie looks pensive. “I’m always up for trying something new, I’m not needing the forearm crutches at the moment, I brought them with me just in case—I think I should be okay on a bike.”

“I’ll take it slow and if you don’t feel safe when I drive you to work in the morning, I can always bring one of the vans to pick you up.”

“That sounds fair,” then she raises an eyebrow at me. “So are you still thinking of romancing it up with me, or was that a fleeting thought?”

I can’t keep the smile off my face. “Maybe this is all part of my plan. I think right now I’m in the more-interested-than-ever category.”

“I’m sorry about all the panicking over breakfast. I just wasn’t expecting that particular curveball.”

I decide to give this beautiful woman fair warning of what she’s getting herself into by giving me a chance. “I want you to know that although I might not technically be considered a good man, I’ll always be good to you.”

“That’s pretty cryptic, Rigs. You want to explain that in a little better detail?”

I drain the rest of my drink from my glass and get to my feet. “Perhaps when we know each other a little better I can tell you all my deepest darkest secrets. But right now, we’re not there yet, so I think I’ll hang on to my privacy a little longer.”

Mattie rises to her feet as well. “I get the feeling that you’re a complex man. I like your personality, but I think every human being has a dark side. It all comes down to how often you feed it. I intentionally don’t feed mine to keep the darkness at bay. I suggest you do the same thing because in our line of work, that darkness that’s always lurking on the edges of our consciousness can easily swallow us whole if we turn our back on it for just a minute.”

Shock roils through my gut because she’s not wrong. There have been many times over the years when I believed the darkness around me was seeping into my very core. “I’ll remember that, Miss Mattie. Are you ready to go to bed?”

“I am. But if you’re giving me your bed, where does that leave you?’

I gesture to the sofa she had been sitting on. “It’s comfortable enough that you shouldn’t worry about taking my bed.”

“Maybe we could trade off? She suggests.

“Or you could let me treat you like the guest of honor you are and sleep in the damn bed,” I laugh.

She smiles up at me. “Alright. If you change your mind about trading it off, let me know.”

When she heads to my room, pride surges in my chest that this beautiful woman who hadn’t rejected my advances out of hand, would now be snuggling up in my bed. I had changed up the sheets and made my room as nice as possible for her stay because I might be a rough old biker, but I wasn’t a total slob.

I sit on my sofa and stare at the half empty glass Mattie had drunk from. A slight smudge of her lipstick stained the rim. I smile at the thought of having more intimate conversations with her.

She had asked about my life and seemed genuinely interested in me. Most women just wanted to ride my cock and be done with it. Though from this moment forward, I would be saving it for Mattie. It didn’t matter if it took years for her to warm up to me, I’d wait. Mattie is my one. I can feel it all the way down to my bones.