Redemption_A Defiance Novel Read online

  “It’s a balance,” Aimee said quietly. “They want to protect us. And I’m not saying we don’t need protection—we do. But so do they. It’s a matter of how we do it.”

  “Just like politics—it’s the woman behind the man,” I said.

  Tru nodded. “And there’s nothing wrong with that, especially if it keeps Defiance from looking weak. We can’t change the rest of the world, but if we’re happy here, who cares what the world thinks? So...you and Mathias.”

  “I guess word gets out fast.” I shifted uncomfortably. I’d never had girlfriends or girl talk. My parents preferred to keep our circle tight, and so my main sources of socialization were large parties—where I didn’t have time to get to know anyone—and Charlie and his family. “He’s very secretive.”

  Tru glanced up at me with a wry smile. “They all are, hon. Comes with the territory.”

  Chapter Ten

  Our claim to fame

  Mathias

  After Tru took Jessa to the guesthouse, Bish and I grabbed something to eat. I was due to fight tonight and the field was an hour away. Caspar had told Bish that he wanted us to proceed normally, to not give away anything by being absent.

  It wasn’t as big of a risk for us to leave the compound—Keller knew that taking us wouldn’t get him anywhere with Defiance. But I didn’t like leaving Jessa behind, knowing that Caspar looked at her like she was risking his club’s safety.

  “You going to pull your head out of your ass long enough to fight?” Bish asked, but there was a smile on his face.

  My ass is just fine, thanks.

  “Thanks for the PSA.” Bish raised a hand to get Shelby’s attention. She was one of the waitresses here, but she also helped run the business. The women in Defiance no longer had to hide their strengths, and while it was cool to see, it definitely made the older generation—and some of ours—nervous as hell.

  Caspar had started training all the women in self-defense too, whether they wanted to or not. “We all gotta be able to protect ourselves, our kids, our home,” he’d told us at the last meeting.

  But women still didn’t hold court at church. There were some rules that would take years to move aside, and doing so could put Defiance at risk with the other MCs. Better to keep the women as our secret weapon, I thought, and Tru agreed with that.

  “Next thing you know, women’ll be fighting in the ring,” Bish said.

  I thought you liked strong women?

  “Something to be said for being overpowered in the bedroom. Don’t like it when it’s only about the fight,” Bish clarified and shot me the finger when I signed, Got anyone special in mind?

  Our food came, platters of burgers and fries, a couple of glasses of milk, and we ate in silence, probably thinking about our respective bedrooms.

  Finally, Bish said, “You like her.”

  Yeah. But we both know it’s beyond that.

  Bish believed in signs the way I did, maybe even more so. “I know.”

  Is that a problem?

  “Not for me. But there’s a lot to figure out here, Mathias. Like what we’re doing.”

  We’d been avoiding that topic, because neither of us really knew what we wanted to do. We knew who we were—I played wild to Bish’s peace—but I didn’t believe in hiding who I was. I was wild, although Bish was more violent. We balanced one another out. We’d been best friends since we were eight. Brothers. And that wouldn’t change.

  But now we had a group, a brotherhood. The military one had been temporary, but Defiance was a better bet. A soft place to land—as soft as it got these days.

  And still, we couldn’t settle in.

  We knew Defiance put new bylaws in place for becoming a member of the MC when Caspar took control and abiding by them was better for us. Because even though we’d stayed on to help Caspar take his rightful place at the helm, we didn’t like staying in one place, although hell, we liked it here. Especially now that Caspar was in control and the older generation was still chaffing under his reign. Although there was serious business to attend to, there were more parties too.

  “Food’s good. Lots of weapons. Lots of women to fuck,” Bish would say. Sometimes, I’d point out that he was spending a lot of time with one woman in particular, and he wouldn’t answer me at all.

  And that always meant he was confused about something. And when something confused him that deeply, he wouldn’t discuss it with me until he figured it out for himself.

  We liked Defiance well enough, maybe more than we’d thought. I’d pushed Bish to come here so we could get the fuck out of the military.

  But once you were in, you were in, and the only way out was painful.

  Some said there was never a real way out of an MC, except for death. Neither of us really liked following rules much, but Caspar was a good leader, from what we’d seen so far. Fair. Loyal. Brave as fuck.

  I don’t want to talk about it now.

  “Yeah, me neither.” Bish glanced at the clock on the wall. “Ready to head out?”

  Think I should tell Jessa?

  “That you’re going to fight? No.”

  I never took Bish’s words lightly. I didn’t this time either. But I still went to check on her anyway. I knocked and got no response, so I let myself in to the guesthouse and heard her.

  She was singing. Headphones on, her back to me and I’d bet her eyes were closed. She was that lost in the music, in her song. I listened as her voice filled the room, the notes rising and I swear to fuck they flooded my system, a shattering, beauty of a string of notes.

  Song...soulful. Pained. And she was hiding what she could do. How could hiding that big a part of yourself affect your life or be any good for anyone? Hiding yourself away, you could easily lose who you were forever.

  If she’d ever really known who she was to start with.

  I backed out of the room, out the door and went with Bish to the fight.

  * * *

  Jessa

  After Tru left, I’d grabbed the tapes and the Walkman and tested my voice. I’d barely been able to contain it in the van but I had, only because the guys would’ve thought me the oddest thing ever, singing after nearly being sold like chattel. Or maybe they would’ve thought it normal. I’d almost begun to sing when Mathias and I were playing the guitar, but I’d held back. I wasn’t even sure I could sing anymore.

  But now, alone, with the music in my ears, my throat unclenched enough and I began to whisper-sing the lyrics, like I was testing my voice, my will...my resolve, my strength.

  It was all there. Thanks to Mathias’s gift, I knew I could shut out everything around me and concentrate on how it felt to sing. I didn’t have to hear myself—I could just listen to the music.

  I could simply fall in love. The signs were all there.

  Chapter Eleven

  Headstrong, I’ll take on anyone

  Mathias

  We left Defiance for the open field where the illegal fight ring would gather. We didn’t have to wait for nighttime—because what the hell was the difference—but old habits persisted. I blasted the usual Metallica and Bish let it go this time. I played it before a fight so I could relax and get my head in the game. And since I could still smell Jessa on me, that wasn’t going to be easy.

  We fought outside the Defiance compound because the arenas were bigger and the money better. Defiance fights were fun, but fights in the surrounding towns...those were blood sport. Underground rings tied to crime syndicates and gangs—the MCs were the outsiders there but there were plenty of AWOL military around looking to pull down some serious cash.

  We let Caspar know our comings and goings out of respect. Plus, Keller’s guys were sniffing around the compound and we didn’t want to leave unless Caspar had his whole force here. Once we were gone, there were low-grade CB freque
ncies we made use of to check in with Defiance, but that was only good if we were in the van.

  Now, we parked away from the other cars and bikes. Once we got close to the field, we walked side by side with the crowds of maybe a hundred men heading out toward the open field where more had already gathered. Much like illegal rodeos and the like, these were up fast, paid cash on sight and disappeared without a trace when the law came around.

  These days, the law was too chickenshit to come around, but the danger and the money made the risk substantially higher than before. We hadn’t been well known when we were enlisted because we traveled a lot. Now, we’d hung around the area long enough to garner interest.

  “I don’t like that,” Bish told me now and I had to agree. Better to be a ghost in this world than well known, but I supposed that our being known was inevitable once we’d showed up at the Defiance gates.

  The fact that people knew us meant more money, more problems.

  We had rules—we never fought on the same night. Tonight was my turn and I had a lot of anger to bleed off, which is why Bish spent the ride here trying to talk me out of fighting.

  I knew he was right, that it was never good to fight when you were angry, but I refused to listen. Being stubborn as fuck was a skill I cultivated long and hard and Bish knew it. I wasn’t sure why he still bothered to fight it, except for the fact that that’s what brothers and best friends did.

  “Look who’s here—double trouble,” Randy drawled.

  “Got nothing more original?” Bish asked the man who ran these events in the field. He had tables set up where men would check in and, later, where they’d get paid. There were food trucks but no alcohol allowed here, because the fighting got rough enough without adding that to the mix. And there were no women, because all this testosterone and women wasn’t a great mix. Thankfully, Randy saw it that way, even though I’m sure there were many who disagreed with him.

  “Don’t go insulting the man who pays you,” Randy told him.

  What’s the word?

  Randy leaned in after Bish translated my question. “Keller’s out for blood—so’s the LoV. Word is, both have missing men.”

  “What happened?” Bish asked and Randy shrugged, said, “Fuck if I know. But if they haven’t been seen or heard from in two days, betting they’re not living.”

  Well, that was a fact. I signed in and Bish continued our walk over toward the spotlighted ring where I’d be fighting for the next several hours. We wouldn’t talk about what Randy said until we were in the safety of the van. But the whole thing still made me uneasy. No one had made us—if they had, Keller and the LoV didn’t have the patience for a drawn-out vengeance.

  No, they didn’t know who’d taken out their men but it’s not like there were a lot of guys in the area who could do that.

  LoV, Bish signed discreetly and I glanced into the ring. Sometimes, fate had a funny way of reminding you what was to come. So I’d fight the LoV guy in the ring, and I’d win, and then we’d get out of here before anyone questioned us.

  Because, as we moved along in the crowd, we heard murmurings of various other guys being questioned by both Keller and the LoV. We’d known it was only a matter of time before someone grabbed me and Bish, but we hadn’t had to talk about it to know what story we’d use.

  “Where were you two yesterday morning?” the second in command of the LoV asked roughly when we got within a foot of the ring. He was too damned close to me and I slammed my hands out to push him back. He stumbled and came toward me. I bared my teeth and Bish growled and that stopped him.

  “We don’t answer to you,” Bish said calmly. “We answer to Caspar.”

  Now move the fuck out of my way so I can beat the shit out of your boy, I signed, Bish translated and the LoV fisted his hands by his sides. His kind was used to getting answers—the fact that we wouldn’t give them would show that we didn’t lie about things. In the most ironic way possible, it would help our future credibility.

  I climbed into the low ring that was nothing more than a couple of mats and ropes to keep others from joining in the fight too easily. Men tended to get riled up during these events.

  The guy across from me was probably my age, but he was missing a couple of teeth and he was bigger. I wanted to be anywhere but here.

  I wanted to be with Jessa.

  The fight started as a blur of a thump of gloves, a whistle and audience yells. After I got punched in the face, narrowly avoided an elbow to the throat, I got my head out of my ass and my thoughts off Jessa and on the man in front of me. Which meant he was fucked.

  These were blood fights, which meant the more bloodshed, the higher the amount of money we got.

  Blood dripped from a cut above my eye. I brushed it away impatiently and charged my competitor with my head down like a bull, knocking him flat on his back. I kept punching, mainly because the LoV’s face flashed in front of my eyes and I thought about how good it would be to erase all those assholes completely.

  Bish pulled me off—it was the only reason I didn’t resist. These weren’t fights to the death and I’d come close with this one. It was why, more often than not, I ended up with a ton of cash in my pocket. I was breathing hard, more from the adrenaline coursing through me than anything, and when I looked around, the crowds were a blur.

  “You did it, Mathias. You’re good,” Bish said to me quietly. It took me a good five minutes to come down, to calm down, but when I did, the world returned to its normal, clear balance.

  The fights were happening in earnest around us, with five smaller rings surrounding the large one I’d fought in. There were cheers and boos, and the smell of the fight was unmistakable.

  We were just getting ready to head out and collect our money when Randy approached us.

  “Hey, Bish, we’ve got an opening,” Randy told him, and pointed to one of the empty outer rings.

  Bish froze. It was only for a split second, but I didn’t miss it. The guy he’d be fighting was a big Indian, and he looked a hell of a lot like Bish’s father.

  Too many memories.

  No. If I could sign loudly, that would’ve counted.

  “I want to,” Bish told me.

  Then roll the dice.

  Bish glared at me, then took them out of his pocket. We did this sometimes, the casting of lots. It signified that nothing was random and that the lots, the dice, whatever the tell might be, reveal the true will of the universe.

  The dice came back with a three. My birth month.

  “Bastard,” Bish grunted, but I knew he was grateful. I looked at the big Indian and wondered if life just continued to repeat itself until you learned something. But what else was there for me to learn? I had no regrets that I’d killed Bish’s dad when I was twelve. I’d done it so my dad wouldn’t have to, but most importantly, so Bish wouldn’t have to.

  Most of all, I did it to save my best friend. My brother. Because he would’ve done it—there was enough rage in his eyes that day that I knew it would happen.

  Which is one reason why I fight now. I fight for redemption—redemption for my anger, redemption for everything. Even though I’m not sure I believe in Heaven, I do believe in souls, and mine has a black mark. A black mark for a damned good reason, but I’ve played judge, jury and executioner for someone.

  Sometimes, I felt like I was put here to avenge. Look, I was named after the apostle who took Judas the traitor’s place—and that Mathias beat out a guy named Justus, so I find that really telling.

  So when they say I have no conscience, they’re right. Not when it comes to killing someone who deserves it.

  Someone like Bish’s dad. I fight because he fought his whole life. Because, even though he lived with us, for all intents and purposes, he had to go home to his father at times, so CPS and SS and the rest wouldn’t go postal on him or my fami
ly.

  My family hadn’t cared about that, but Bish had. And every time he went back there, he’d fought for his life. So that’s also why I fight now. So he doesn’t have to ever again, unless he wants to.

  I took the Indian down easily and Bish and I called it a night. I let him drive home.

  “You only let me when you’re worried about me,” Bish pointed out.

  Am I wrong?

  Bish shrugged. “M’okay now.”

  I let him pick the music—this time, it was Cypress Hill’s “Rise Up,” and I knew it was one of his favorites because it was released right before the Chaos. It fit my mood, serving to mellow me out despite the driving beat, because I was slightly punch-drunk and sleepy from the night before, and I found myself talking nonsense to Bish, because I could. Talking about Jessa and the night before and then I signed, What if this is only her trying to live out some fantasy?

  “What, like girls gone wild, Chaos style?”

  Stranger things have happened. She’s like...American royalty, for Christ’s sake.

  “And she slept with you willingly.”

  I feel like...

  I couldn’t finish. But with Bish, I didn’t have to.

  “Like she can fix everything for you,” Bish said quietly. He wasn’t making fun of me. “That’s cool, Mathias. The way it should be.”

  No woman would ever come between us—we were too close for that. You like her?

  “I’ll like her just fine if she makes you happy.” Bish paused. “But you’re worried.”

  Too many unknowns.

  “Sometimes, that’s the best way to live life.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Young Americans

  Jessa

  Tru told me I could stay in the guesthouse we’d hung out in. She said she’d stayed there when she first came back to Defiance, and that it seemed to be a place of good luck. The guesthouse was clean and had lots of candles. And I could see out the windows, thanks to the generator’s lights around the compound.