Broken Page 2

  At least I had the good sense to pull over the second time I got it running so at least I’m not blocking the street. I decide to call my best friend and get her to give me a ride home. As I’m fishing around for my phone it suddenly hits me. I was nearly killed! People were shooting into my car and…

  My brain just seizes up and I can’t finish the thought. I wind up sitting in my car shaking, shuddering and crying my eyes out. I’m glad no one is around right now to see me blubbering with snot running out of my nose. I don’t know how other people handle getting shot at but it’s definitely not for me. No freaking way could I ever be a cop.

  I wait until my crying jag has run its course and my eyes are a little less puffy and red, and then I call Alexandra Morgan, my best friend in the world. According to my mother, I’ve known Alex since we were in daycare. She didn’t know any English so no one would talk to her. As the story goes, I just walked up to her and handed her my favorite toy and we’ve been fast friends ever since. Alex is a new police recruit with the Whispering Pines PD and is in the academy going through their program right now. The program is something like 16 or 18 weeks long and it’s tough. During the weekend she studies from sun up to far after sundown. I know because I’ve been helping her with test questions.

  When Alex first told me about wanting to become a deputy I was horrified! My experience with city cops was bad enough to nearly turn me into a criminal purely as an act of defiance and rebellion. But I trust my best friend, and if there is anyone who can actually become a cop and not let it go to her head it’s her. But I’ll be on the lookout for any behavior that looks like that of my ex-boyfriend. She’s probably home studying right now, but if she’s feeling the need for a short break I could use her help and advice. I don’t want to have to go to the police station and tell the cops there what happened and why my car is full of bullet holes. I’m not in trouble of course, but to willingly put myself back into the lion’s den? That’s a desperate move. Alex will know what to do; she always does. While I’m brash and prone to action without thinking, she sometimes is too far in the opposite direction and that has caused problems with her in the academy. Being a cop means you have to think fast and make split second decisions. She’s not one to make hasty choices but she’s learning. Who knows, maybe her tendency to over think things will keep her out of trouble one day.

  I dial her number and cross my fingers and toes. If she’s deep into studying she may not pick up, even for me. I’m just about to hang up when she finally answers.

  “Hi Jen,” she says as I’m about to disconnect the call.

  “Oh my god, I’m so glad you picked up.” I nearly shout into my phone.

  “Let me guess, Officer Brown is stalking you again.” She replies.

  “Probably but that’s not why I called. My car’s broke down on the corner of Olympic and Broadway. It just conked out.”

  “What? You’re kidding. You barely just bought that thing. How could it have broken down?”

  “Um…it had help actually.”

  “Help? What do you mean help? What are you not telling me Jen?”

  “My gas tank is leaking out and so is my oil thingy. Oil pan I guess it’s called.”

  Yeah, I’m pretty ignorant when it comes to cars. I have a bright red 2014 Ford Mustang that I bought four months ago and I absolutely love it! Now I have a bullet riddled 2014 bright red Mustang that’s missing half the front windshield and the entire driver’s side front window. What a mess.

  “How can the gas tank of a brand new car be leaking? You sure it’s gas and not a puddle of something else that was there when you parked?”

  “Oh I’m positive. My car ran out of gas just now and the tank was a quarter full before.”

  “You’re not telling me something Jen.” She accuses.

  “Just come and get me will you please?” I plead.

  “Of course I’ll get you. Right after you tell me what’s going on.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Do I sound like I am? You just interrupted me taking a practice test and you want me to drive all the way across town to get you when you could probably jog there faster or even call a cab; but no, you call me and interrupt my studying so I have a right to know what’s going on.”

  She’s right of course, I really should tell her first so she can decide if she really wants to get involved; so I tell her.

  “My car ran out of gas because there’s bullet holes where the tank is located.”

  Suddenly her voice jumps about ten octaves. “What? Are you freaking kidding me? Was it your bastard ex-boyfriend? Did he try to kill you Jenna? Oh my god, stay right there and don’t move I’m on my way. Wait. You’re safe, right? Did you get shot? Are you okay?”

  “Simmer down Alex, I’m fine. Well. I got some cuts from glass but I didn’t get shot or anything like that.”

  “Alright I’m coming right now so just sit tight. I’ll be there in…in fifteen minutes. Are you sure you’re safe?”

  “I’m fine…I’m fine. Just come and get me before the cops come sniffing around here.”

  “Alright I’m coming. Bye.”

  I hang up and pocket my phone. I need to decide what to say if the cops do come by. I guess I’ll just have to tell the truth. It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong. I just don’t want to end up in the station being questioned no matter what the reason. Somehow they’d figure out a way to keep me there for hours on end just because they can.

  Ten minutes later I spot Alex’s Honda CRV coming down the road. She pulls to a stop behind my car and jumps out almost before her car stops moving. She runs up and throws her arms around me.

  “Oh my god I can’t believe you’re alive! Look at your car! Full of bullets! What the hell happened Jenna?”

  She immediately begins playing mother hen with her makeshift trauma kit she has taken to carrying in her car ever since beginning training at the academy. While I regale her with the tale of my woes she sits me down in the back of her Honda and begins swabbing my tiny cuts with alcohol wipes. I try not to wince but the cuts already stung bad enough before she began messing with them.

  “Are you sure the Death Crusaders are back in town?” She asks for the third time.

  “Are you kidding me? I’ll never forget that patch they wear on their backs. I saw them clearly as they passed Starbucks. I was sitting there looking out the window when they came cruising by. You can’t miss them.”

  “So who was shooting at you? The Death Crusaders?”

  “No one was shooting at me. I just happened to drive right through an ongoing battle. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts I didn’t see a thing until I was getting shot at.”

  “So how’d you get out of there?”

  “Well that’s the amazing part. I was like just sitting there stunned and terrified when my door opens and this biker guy just shoves me into the passenger seat and drives off like a mad man. But soon as we’re out of the line of fire he just parks, gets out, and leaves without a word.”

  “No way!”

  “I’m totally serious! He just jumped in and drove me to safety then left. It was crazy.”

  “Wow…you know what this all means right?” She asks me.

  “No…what does it mean?”

  “There’s gonna be a huge biker war, that’s what it means. The Devil’s Advocates and the Sleazebags are going to be protecting their turf against the Death Crusaders and I’m sure that’s what you stumbled across. Did you see who the other club was?”

  “I didn’t even see the Death Crusaders until one of them practically carjacked me.” I reply.

  “Well I’m sure Deputy Jones will be talking about it during morning briefing tomorrow. It’s gonna be war Jenna. No way in hell are Devil’s Advocates going to give up their territory to the Crusaders and neither are the Sleazebags. Sounds like you just drove through the Crusaders version of the Shock and Awe.”

  “Yeah, but that alone isn’t going to frighten off the Advocates. I
should know. I dated one a couple years ago.”

  “Yeah I’m trying to forget that phase of your life.”

  “And you dated my ex’s best friend, Officer Tatum.”

  “And I’m trying to forget that phase of my life.” Alex replies.

  “Looks like we both have something we’d like to forget.” I reply. “So what should I do about my car? If I take it to a shop but I’m I’ll end up in some room being questioned all night by Mark and his cronies. I’d kinda like to avoid that if you know what I mean.”

  “Let’s get you home and I’ll make a few calls. I actually know someone who’ll keep if off the books. He charges more but it’s all in the name of discretion.”

  “Do it. Whatever it costs do it.”

  Ten minutes later I’m in the bathroom taking a shower while my best friend in the world is saving my ass. I get out of the shower and pause in the mirror. One side of my face mirrors a recent chicken pox outbreak while the other remains untouched by the afternoon’s outbreak of violence. On the right side of my face the skin is still smooth and framed by my silky smooth long brown hair. I’m the a-typical all American girl with brown hair instead of blonde, and brown eyes to match. I stand five feet eight inches tall and have curves in all the right places; but that’s not my problem here. I’m the perfect catch; that is until you see my legs and back. Starting just above both knees is a crisscross of patchwork scars all thanks to my mother’s last boyfriend before I finally had the courage to leave home. My upper back is a patchwork of discolored skin as well from numerous transplants after I was severely burned when my mother’s last fiancée decided to burn the house down with us in it! I had just turned seventeen and I spent most of my senior year in the hospital in agony.

  I don’t mind standing in front of a mirror if I’m looking straight forward. From my thighs up in the front I was spared any burns. Several years ago I actually did some modeling for a couple magazines that wanted to feature less than perfect models. Three other women and I had suffered significant burns and, as I recall, there were two women who had suffered an amputation. One had lost one of her legs just below the knee while in the military in Afghanistan and the other her left arm in the war in Iraq. In fact, for a short time I thought about trying to become a model but I decided there was just too much emphasis on looks and no one really cared about who you were or your story with the exception of the one shoot I did with the amputees. If I remember right, one of the girls ended up with a moderately successful career as a model despite her missing leg. Most of the time she was pictured in such a way that you couldn’t even see that she was missing the appendage. Other times they went to great lengths to airbrush in a new leg for her which I thought was very crass of them and it made me even more grateful that I didn’t choose that career path. Not that my own has been such a stellar rise to stardom. For the last four years I have been working at Mylan Laboratories as a phlebotomist. It’s easy but the pay is not that great so lately I’ve been thinking of going back to school and maybe becoming a nurse or ER tech or something with better pay and that isn’t so damn boring.

  After drying off I put on strategically placed clothing to hide my scars and go out to the living room to see if Alex has been able to get my car situation resolved.

  “So what’s the deal with my car?” I ask her.

  “It’s being towed to my friends shop as we speak. He’ll keep it off the books and it’ll be finished in a few days or so. I asked him to put a rush on it. He’s going to drop a loaner off this afternoon so you won’t end up stranded. How are you feeling anyway? It’s not every day one gets shot at in the middle of the day is it?”

  “Yeah it was pretty freaky. But here’s the strangest part…”

  “Do I really wanna hear this?”

  “Probably not but you’re going to anyway.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s part of your job as best friend. You have to listen to all my rants.”

  “Fine,” She replies. “Spill it.”

  “You remember the first time I saw the Crusaders roll through town right?”

  “Allegedly saw them roll through town.” She replies. “You’re the only one who seems to have seen them. No one else seems to have seen them but yeah I remember, why?”

  “I was nine years old when I saw them and that guy…”

  “Oh my god Jenna now I suppose you’re going to tell me you saw him today, is that it?”

  “That’s exactly it. Well sorta. I was just sitting there in Starbucks when they came riding through. There must have been forty guys but only one made eye contact with me and I swear to god he was the exact same man I saw twenty years ago.”

  “Okay you are aware of the impossibility of that really happening right?”

  “I’m not an idiot.”

  “When it comes to the Death Crusaders and that dude in particular…well you seem to take leave of your senses whenever they’re around.”

  “Look, I realize it wasn’t him. I am sure though that it was his son or nephew or something. I mean, he looked exactly like the guy I saw twenty years earlier. But that’s not the bizarre part of the story.”

  “Let me guess, you two met and got married at city hall and you’re just going home to pack for your honeymoon.”

  “Damn I can’t keep anything from you can I? But seriously, after I drove into their gun battle it was him who rescued me.” I remind her again.

  “I don’t know what to say…”

  “It’s fate Alex. It was fate that I locked eyes with his father when I was nine or ten and it was fate that we, the son and I, saw each other this morning. Then, of all the people who could have helped me, it just happened to be him. I have tinted windows so no way he could have known it was me sitting behind the wheel.”

  “Didn’t your windows get blown out?”

  “Just the side but not my front window. That was still intact. He just couldn’t have known he was coming to my rescue. Bullets were flying from all sides and he just runs up, opens my door and rescues me. The odds of us meeting again like that are astronomical yet we did. Any other day of the week and I wouldn’t have been sitting there at Starbucks drinking coffee. I rarely drink the stuff anymore. It makes me too shaky.”

  “So I gotta know, what’s with you and this biker guy?” She asks. “I thought you were finished with bikers.”

  “I thought I was too but for him, I can make an exception.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know why. It’s like I fell under his spell when I was nine and when I saw him today for the first time in twenty years it’s like no time had passed. He didn’t have a full face helmet on. He just had one of those little caps so I could clearly see his face. He didn’t have on sunglasses and he just got me with those gorgeous piercing blue eyes. It’s like he could see right through me and into my soul. Strange thing is, I kinda felt the same way. I know he’s an outlaw biker but he’s different. He has a good heart and a clean soul. It’s just like it when I saw his dad so long ago. I felt the same things.”

  “Wow so you were like nine and you’re fantasizing about a thirty year old biker?” She teases.

  “That’s not what I meant. I just mean I knew he was this amazing good person. He was everything that all the men in my life, starting with my real father, weren’t. I have no idea if he was married then but I’d bet my life that he wasn’t an abuser. I’m sure he treated his old lady like a queen.”

  “You’re reading an awful lot into a five second glance twenty years ago.”

  “Yeah but when you see the right guy you just know. I realize I was totally infatuated with that guy and I’ve never been successful in getting him out of my head either. And now I see this guy again…well I see a younger version of him and my thoughts are racing. I feel like I’m having some kind of manic episode or something and I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s like I have our whole life mapped out now. We’re going to run into each other soon and we’ll start talking then have dinne
r and that’s how our life together is going to begin.”

  “Yeah you’ve gone over the deep end Jenna. I advise you to never speak to this person or you’re gonna be hopelessly lost.”

  “Too late. I’m already lost. I have to find him Alex. I cannot go for another twenty years with this ache in my soul for him. It’s like every dream I have for my life is second now to finding this guy and starting my life with him.”

  “What happens if he doesn’t share your same…obsession?”

  “He does…and it’s not an obsession. Okay maybe it is a tiny obsession. But I know he felt the connection when our eyes locked. Something sparked and a fire’s been started that’ll never die down.”

  “Wow…” My best friend replies. “I’ve never heard you talk about anyone like this. I hope it works for you.”

  “Me too.”

  “There’s something else you have to consider here.” She says and her expression gets totally serious.

  “What?”

  “This guy of yours, his club is locked in some deadly war right now with at least one biker gang if not all of them now. I can’t see a happy calm reunion in your near future. Sorry kiddo, but someone had to say it.”

  “Yeah…well everyone has their baggage don’t they?”

  “They do. But this guy’s got a whole truck load of it following him around. And I realize you’ve got your issues too, but your baggage isn’t gonna get you killed - his might.

  Chapter Two

  Stampede

  So I’m going to the fights. Mixed martial arts cage fighting has finally come to Whispering Pines and I’m going to support my local lunatic; Marco ‘Bone Crusher’ Alvarez. He’s a homegrown boy that’s probably never set foot outside the Pines except to fight. So that means his experiences outside our small town has been limited to airports. He’s just come off of a national tour with Surge where he has been featured as one of their most promising up and coming fighters. Tonight he’s fighting as the main event and a win here will put him in Crossfire’s sights. Crossfire is the West Coast’s premiere MMA management company. Crossfire’s fighters, even the ones on the bottom rung, make more per fight than the upper echelon Surge fighters. Tonight Bone Crusher’s opponent is some guy who goes by the moniker, Blade. It should be an interesting fight. I’m really not that much into extreme sports like cage fighting or even boxing but Alex loves all things MMA and has made me promise to come with her tonight. So for the sake of our friendship, I find myself surrounded by perfect fake tens. Given the old money in this town it’s no surprise that no one steps out without silicon breasts, calves, newly squared jaws, plastic abs, and veneers. Puts normal people like me at a severe disadvantage.