“Ain’t leavin’ Jackson, got a man to locate with a cell number and would appreciate a little heads up on his whereabouts.”
We continue our stare-fest.
Mocha-chocolate waves the white flag first. “Boxer’s been mumbling the name Jonathan Boothe over and over before he completely passed out. Seems like the name was mighty important to him. Joel and I concur and now remember seeing it on the original will.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Any of that ring a bell to you?” He’s baiting me. Sniffer dog is out.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
“Jonathan Boothe is a name we have in common.” That’s all I am willing to concede at this point. Miss Catherine hasn’t jumped in to announce who I am. Mocha-chocolate hasn’t shot me, so I gather I’m still under the radar for my sins against Whisper and my biological connection.
Why?
Sounds like she didn’t divulge this information to the good doctor, or she would have told this guy already.
Wouldn’t she?
I will take what’s coming to me once she is safe.
I need to get moving. “If you can get your boy onto the cell number I hold for Boothe, I’ll be on my way. Just need a location to get started. He can stop tracking Whisper and Miss Catherine’s phones, because she’s in possession of them, and stay on that one for me. It’s the one solid lead we have at the moment.” Miss Catherine hands over a piece of paper she jotted it down on to the guy, and he starts rattling off the numbers to Joel.
“I’ll be sure to let you know what I find out tonight, Miss Catherine.” She looks like she wants to say something to me and Mocha-chocolate isn’t liking I’m getting all bossy, but I don’t give a fuck. “We can work together to find Whisper.” He’s still eyeing me up.
“What’s your stake in this… with Whisper?” he asks me, his tone deadly serious now. “Before, you were Miss Catherine’s only help, found her on the side of the road. Had your own troubles prior to that meetup and got yourself bashed and shot in the foot.”
So that’s the magical mystery explanation of what went down. Fuck sake, ladies.
“I ain’t buying that explanation. Your enthusiasm for Whisper and her plight isn’t sitting well with me.”
I don’t suppose he’ll believe, ‘Many hands make light work.’ I start to tell him William Dupré is my father, but Miss Catherine starts chattering.
“Because he be makin’ a promise to me to find her and he been keepin’ it.” She’s trying to give me an out, but I don’t need protecting from an old lady.
Far from it. I made my bed.
I can pay my own bills.
I look the big man directly in his eyes. “Because William Dupré is my father and that fucker has hailed shit down on Whisper for a lifetime, as I have just discovered, and here’s the kicker… I shot her in the shoulder.”
A thunderous noise fills the street, and I watch a lion heading my way, still roaring as he aims to fuck with me good and proper.
On an ooph, my body’s slammed into the hard road, and I have to let the guy have his due as he swings punch after punch down on me. I can’t fight him because I would do the same if the roles were reversed.
I would do worse.
Much, much worse.
I feel a tooth dislodge itself, my lip split, and a black eye or two will reveal themselves soon enough.
Nothing I haven’t survived before.
My mind drifts away and I’m the young boy again, weighed down by my father as he hammers me into submission. I used to fight back, kicking and screaming, trying to protect myself, until I learned to take my punishment because I surely deserved what he was windmilling down on my body. No father would do this to their child unless they had done something so bad they needed to be set right. The thing is, I could never work out what that was.
My cheek is smashed to the side, bringing me back into the present, as I lay with my hands at my sides while he gets a few more solid hits in… until he realizes I ain’t fighting him back. This is just a down payment for my past actions toward the sweet and wild girl.
The fucker sure can hit hard.
He yanks me up to my feet, blood pouring out of a gash on the side of my head, blinding me in that eye. I can feel my stitches have opened up on the back of my head. I would assume I look a right fucking mess about now.
Penance can be a painful pill to swallow.
“Enough!” the old lady screeches, and fuck if that doesn’t stop Mocha-chocolate in his tracks as he shoves me back a few steps and I plant my feet, steadying myself. “I know what he gone and done. I be knowin’ from the first night he be in my home. I’m not happy about it, and Whisper knowin’ he be the one who shot her, but she be the one in danger. Let us not be forgettin’ that. He be doin’ wrong, but dem bones of mine be tellin’ me to take a giant leap of faith and trust this man to be doin’ the right thing from here on out.”
What’s with ‘dem bones’ again?
“That’s all he been doin’ since he made his big mistake. He be knowin’ he did wrong. He not even fightin’ you, Ghost. It takes a man who be knowin’ he’s at fault to lay there and let another man pummel him when he be quite capable of layin’ you out with a bullet to the brain. I’ve seen what he been able to do to a man. Whisper be makin’ the judgment call on whether she be forgivin’ him or not. That be what he has to look forward to and be livin’ with.
“I be explainin’ in more detail once we get Boxer and Lincoln seen to. They die because you be takin’ the time to beat up on a man who is beatin’ up on himself enough in his mind over what he gone and done… do you think Whisper be any happier? Do you think bein’ William Dupré’s son been easy on him? Do you think he didn’t get his fair share of William’s insanity rained down upon him?”
Time for the rant to finish; this is getting too close to home base. She’s assuming correctly far too much.
“Miss Catherine, I don’t need you to step up for me. Ghost did what he needed to do. Would have done the same thing if I was in his shoes.” I spit out a bloody tooth. “The good doctor needs to get moving, and I need to find a man and have a talk with him.”
Mocha-chocolate still isn’t finished. “Miss Catherine, you agreeable with Edge going lonesome dove and approaching this man of interest?”
“I am. You be knowin’ full well you got enough on your plate with dem boys.”
Mocha-chocolate wants to ride my ass. He’s snorting like a bull who wants to keep charging, but he knows he’s gotta look after his men and has two ladies to keep safe. He’s done the math, and he’s also got another man in the hospital, and he knows I’m gonna be nobody’s tag-along. I’m not turning tail either.
He paces about because it’s not sitting well with him. He doesn’t like it one bit that the old lady is feeling shit in her boneswhen it comes to me. She has this man’s respect, and she knows it.
I give him my most direct no-bullshit look. “You have my word I’ll keep you in the loop. Sometimes, in a situation like this, it’s all a man has to offer is his word. You take care of Whisper’s family because she will need them. I’ll call for backup when I need it. At the moment, I’m just sniffing around. Whisper’s disappeared, and I aim to get some answers soon. You need to be briefed on what Miss Catherine and I have been up to.”
Fucker is looking for a reason to go another round. I won’t be so accommodating this time around because this round won’t be about me shooting Whisper. This round would be purely letting off steam, and I ain’t nobody’s punching bag.
“I promised Miss Catherine, and I won’t break that. She will fill you in, but whether you like it or not, this has become two motorcycle clubs’ business too. Whisper is missing, and she’s your people, and we’re missing two ladies. One just turned up shot through the back, dead, and the other is still a question mark. Seems like there could be a link.