Vindication: A Motorcycle Club Romance (37 page)

~
NINETEEN ~

Noah

This would be the last time I sat around this
conference table—or any table—with these men, and I knew that now in my heart.
On the far side, away from Quinn and I, sat the three I had thought were my
brothers. Or in the case of Duke, at least an ally with a mutual goal I could
count on to protect the band when things got dark.

But I was wrong about all of them.
And now they would pay for it.

Gavin stood at the head of the table
near the windows. The day outside was fitting for my mood: completely
gray-black with swirling violent skies keeping out the light. As Gavin fumbled
with the TV display and the DVD I had given him, I watched the skies churn and
ignored everyone in the room. Unlike previous meetings, the feeling of having
Duke so close just slid by me like water off a duck’s back now. This was over,
and I had the victory. He didn’t have any power over me anymore.

The pain in my heart came from a
different place now. The spot that held my band was beginning its mourning
period, something it was well practiced at, even if this one would be the
toughest. But the deep, bright place that Laurel had burrowed into didn’t have
the same kind of experience with darkness, and every beat sent fresh waves of
ache through my muscles. And that pain was greater than anything Duke could
have ever done to me.

After a moment, Gavin got the
equipment working. Before he played the DVD, he turned to the assembled table.
“As you all know, Noah’s asked us here today because he has something important
related to his case to show us, and he wanted us to be the first. Noah, do you
want to say anything before we get this going?”

I shook my head, and didn’t move my
gaze from the window. “Just play the damn thing.”

Gavin didn’t reply, only followed my
instructions. The men stared at the looped video from a front-row attendee.
They watched the soon-to-be-dead man creep his way past the security guards,
whose attentions were focused on the crowd per their job instructions, watching
for surfers or anybody potentially getting crushed by the mob. They were used
to photographers moving behind their backs in the pit all the time. As mad as I
wanted to be at them, the video only made it apparent that it was a tragic
mistake, a perfect storm of bad timing.

The man crawled up onto the stage,
and that was when fans in the front row started pointing. One of the security
guards finally turned and saw him, but would never move fast enough to catch
him. The fan doing the recording had a perfect angle when he got to his feet
and began to advance on Quinn, who was shredding with his eyes closed up
against his amp during a solo.

In the man’s hand, a five-inch blade
glinted under the stage lights like a Roman candle, clear as day. Everyone in
the room started muttering to themselves.

“I
told
you motherfuckers!”
yelled Quinn immediately at the men across the table. “I
told
you Noah
didn’t bullshit about that knife!”

Gavin stood, staring at the TV with
his jaw hanging open, completely shocked. “This is a fuckin’ miracle.”

Jeff and Ash both had hollow, pale
looks on their faces, like they’d been caught telling a massive lie. Duke just
stared at the TV as the video looped again, his face a still sheet of quiet
anger and some other emotion I couldn’t quite place. Maybe he wasn’t a complete
monster—maybe part of him was just now realizing how he’d thrown a good man
overboard.

“We have to get this to the DA and
the press immediately!” said Gavin. He put a finger to the Bluetooth headset on
his ear, connected to his assistant in her office. “Shelly, can you get—”

“No, wait,” I said, raising a hand.
“Just wait, please.”

Gavin froze. “Standby please.” He
clicked the receiver off. “What are we waiting for?”

“We can get this to the DA, but do it
quietly. I don’t want the press to find out yet.”

Both Quinn and Gavin stared at me
with wide, questioning eyes. “Noah, why? This is going to fix everything! The band!”
said Quinn.

“Fuck this band,” I said with a
laugh, and pointed over to the three on the other side of the table. “I don’t
trust these assholes as far as I can throw them. I’m not gonna make music with
a bunch of cowardly fucks who can’t even stand by their brothers. We can make
something new, Quinn. I just wanted to see the looks on their faces when they
realized the truth. Figured I earned it.”

Ash and Jeff leaned around Duke to
exchange glances with each other. Jeff tried to sputter at me, “Noah, we… look,
we’re sorry. We were just trying to look out for ourselves and our families.”

“Yeah, and what the fuck was I
doing?” said Noah. “What about
my
life? My family?”

“
What
family?” muttered Ash,
bitterly.

That one actually stung. I looked him
in the eyes and said, “Fuck you, Ash.”

With nothing left to keep him here,
Ash flipped me the bird and got up out of his chair. He yelled at Gavin that
his lawyer would be in touch and stomped out of the room. A few moments later,
Jeff got up with far less drama, a pathetic stoop to his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Noah. I should have stood
by you,” said Jeff as he patted the top of the chair at the head of the table.
I couldn’t look at him, but he didn’t wait for it, or for a reply. He gave an
awkward wave to Quinn and Gavin and left the room.

I was surprised Duke was the last to
go, allowing himself to be outnumbered in the room. He typically stuck to
situations where he had the advantage. But the video seemed to have thrown him
off his game just a bit.

None of us had anything to say to
him. Quinn just stared, arms crossed, glaring. Convinced the air in the room
wasn’t one of violence, Gavin turned back and watched the loop again and again,
shaking his head in amazement every time the shot of the knife appeared.

Finally Duke pushed his chair back
from the table and rose to his feet. He watched the video loop one more time
and started for the door.

“Cat got your tongue, dickwad?” said
Quinn to his back.

Duke stopped. He turned his head just
a little bit. “I’m glad you’re not going to prison, Hardy.” Nothing in his
voice was malicious or sarcastic. It was just that dark, southern drawl that
belonged to him on the nights in the bus, in the middle of nowhere, when he
finally had his guard down and was just a dude that loved playing guitar.

I let him sweat for a moment before I
said, “Thanks.”

Duke left the room. It was the last
time we would ever speak to each other.

“Seriously though, Noah,” said Gavin
as he switched off the TV, finally satisfied. “What is your plan, here? I’m
having trouble wrapping my head around why we don’t email this video to every
major media outlet right fucking now.”

“Because I’ve already got plans for
getting it to the press; I just need you guys to chill and let me get it
finished.”

“Noah,” said Gavin, worried. “What is
this plan? You should really let me take a look, I don’t want anything to
happen that might—”

“That might what, Gavin? Fuck up the
band’s future?” I laughed. It actually felt like a real laugh, for the first
time in a while. The bitterness in my heart could never outweigh the feeling of
freedom from knowing the truth was out. “Cut Up Angels had a great run, but
we’re done. You don’t need to protect us anymore.”

“You’re all still my clients, and you
two are my friends. I’ve protected you since you were kids. I’m not about to
stop now,” he said with a shake of his head.

“The other guys can do their own
interviews and fight me if they really want to, once it’s all out. I don’t
care. They can’t stop me now. And you can protect whatever it is Quinn and I
decide to do next… after a serious fucking vacation.”

“Oh, good God,” said Quinn with an
exasperated sigh. “I didn’t even think of that… Fuck, I’m taking the old lady
to Maui.”

That made me smile. I leaned over and
patted Quinn on the shoulder and gave him a big smile. For the first time in
weeks, his eyes were clear and bright. “Thanks for sticking by me, bro.”

“Don’t get all fucking mushy with
me,” said Quinn with a laugh. “We established this a long time ago, man: where
you battle, I battle.”

“Just tell me I have the trust of
both of you about this,” I said, glancing at each of them in turn. “Trust me
you’ll let me get this out my way and be okay with it.”

Quinn and Gavin looked at each other,
and then back at me, each of them nodding. “We trust you,” said Quinn.

“And you know we have your back if
you wind up needing it,” added Gavin. “I’ll get this to the DA within the hour
and tell them to keep quiet about it.”

Another wave of relief washed over me
and I smiled at them. “Thanks, guys. I need that strength today.”

“Why, what is it you’re going to do?”
Quinn asked as I got up from my chair.

With a sigh, I said, “Maybe the
dumbest thing I’ve ever done. But I won’t be able to live with myself if I
don’t.”

~
TWENTY ~

Laurel

Another episode in the day-long marathon of
Seinfeld
came on and made me realize I was running late. After I got off the phone with
Domino, I told Steve we were ready to get home, and he could not get on the
airport’s website fast enough. Every day we had been in Seattle, his bitching
about missing New York had grown exponentially. And now, every ten minutes he
was texting me, asking me if I was getting packed, and every time I answered
“yes, God!”

As I looked over the clothes still
strewn on the bed, I realized maybe I should have been a little less snarky
with Steve this time. And maybe a few other times. And maybe that Steve was
right about me being horrible to fly with.

Hell, that was nothing a few mimosas
couldn’t fix. I saw my phone on the nightstand light up with a message and
ignored it, instead pulling up my suitcase onto the bed to begin packing in
earnest.

The trip had been so chaotic that I
hadn’t even kept track of what needed to be washed, so everything got stuffed
with equal disregard into the square black bag as efficiently as possible. As I
threw in garment after garment, my hand grabbed one that still felt unfamiliar.
It was Noah’s heavy, soft sweatshirt—the one he’d gotten on The Rising End’s
first tour ever, and kept safe and close since. The one he’d gifted me that day
on the beach.

It was all I had left of him. It was
strange to acknowledge how quickly everything had happened, despite how deeply
I could still feel him in my bones. I wished I had left something of mine with
him, something he could see now and remember me by. But something like that
might just cause him pain, and that was the last thing I wanted.

Seeing his sweatshirt caused me pain.
But it was nothing like the bolt of agony that overcame me when I put the soft
thing up to my face and inhaled Noah’s scent mixed with wetness and earth. I
hadn’t been around him in days, and yet the scent was so strong, so
recognizable, that I collapsed into sobs on the edge of the hotel bed, because
it felt like he was in the room with me. I wept into Noah’s sweatshirt until I
didn’t have any tears left, and my eyes were swollen and tender.

Slowly, I tried to compose myself. I
stuffed the borrowed top into the suitcase with a bit of anger and got up. But
I only made it a few steps before my hands were back, pulling the sweatshirt
out again and yanking it over my head. Warmth rushed over my body, and Noah’s
scent was all around me now. I didn’t care if it hurt.

Out of the corner of my eye, the
screen of my phone lit up again. It was a call this time. I slid over and,
expecting Steve, was surprised instead to see Domino’s face looking back at me.

“What’s up?” I answered with only the
slightest sniffles.

“Was I right to assume you are
running late for your flight?” she said with a smile in her voice.

“I, uh…” My brain was too fogged from
crying to even come up with a quick white lie.

Domino just laughed. “I’ve told you
before, fate puts together pieces in ways you wouldn’t expect. Today, my girl,
your seemingly rebellious aversion to being on time has worked in your favor,
so find some god to thank.”

“Who
is
this?” I asked, only
half-kidding. “You congratulating me for being irresponsible has made me feel
like I missed a cut scene, here. What’s going on?”

“Are you ready for this?”

“Ready for
what?
”

I could practically see Domino
squirming in her seat like she always did when she got excited. She could never
hide her passion. “I just got off the phone with Gavin Jones.”

“Gavin Jo…” My memory kicked in
before I could finish my question. My heart stopped beating for a moment.

“Gavin Jones, manager of Cut Up
Angels. He asked to speak to me personally.”

Legs heavy and shaking, I sat down on
the bed. All I could think was Noah had told Gavin what I was, and Gavin, ever
the guard dog he was for Noah and the boys, was calling Domino to chew me to
bits and blacklist me from ever working in the industry again. But I couldn’t
reconcile that theory with how happy and excited Domino sounded. Would she
really be so thrilled to have me gone?

“W-What did he want?” I asked.

“Noah Hardy has requested us to
conduct his first interview to the press about the festival. He says he has
developments that the public hasn’t heard, and he wants us to be the ones to
present it to them—exclusively. Every single fucking news outlet that wants to
talk about Noah Hardy is going to be running your byline.”

Time stopped. The breath in my chest
was all I could hear. “He… he
what?”

“Specifically, Laurel, Noah Hardy has
asked to speak to
you.
And only you. Those were the conditions of his
interview.”

Heart racing, Domino’s words were
difficult to wrap my head around. “This is a joke, right? Noah wants to talk to
me—wants to give me an interview?”

“If you’re still in town to take it.
He wants to give it today.”

“Yes, I’m still in town,” I said. “I…
I’ll do it. Of course I’ll do it.”

“Of course you’ll do it,” she
repeated, “I don’t remember offering you a choice. You ready to write down
these instructions?”