An Eye for an Eye (A Satan’s Angel's M.C.Tale)

An Eye for an Eye

An Eye for an Eye

(A Satan’s Angel MC Tale)

By Six Shooter Sally

Smashwords: Edition

Copyright 2012

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Thank you for taking the time to read my book.

Table Of Contents

Chapter One - No Regrets.

Chapter Two - Broken.

Chapter Three - More of the same.

Chapter Four - Learning the truth.

Chapter Five - John Walker Private Eye.

Chapter Six - Frank Norco

Chapter Seven - Darla's life.

Chapter Eight - A growing bond.

Chapter Nine - Just before all hell broke loose.

Chapter Ten - Welcome to Hell.

Chapter Eleven - Aftermath of a nightmare.

Chapter Twelve - Surprise.

Chapter Thirteen - Out of the mouths of babes

Chapter Fourteen - The other shoe dropped

Chapter Fifteen - Arrested.

Chapter Sixteen - No change.

Chapter Seventeen - One long ass year.

Chapter Eighteen - Truly no regrets.

This story tells us about the personal side of a patch holder’s life as he waits for his fate to be decided. It’s about family, love and loss. Clint Masters was a husband, is a father and son moreover he is a Satan’s Angel. He isn’t merely a business man or a divorcee. It’s not that simple. His active membership in the Satan’s Angel’s Motorcycle Club is about to collide with public and private perception. He understands he will be judged more harshly, painted wrongly with a single brush.

Chapter One: - No Regrets

I’d never been one of those guys that wondered how it felt to kill someone. I mean; I never gave it a thought. Looking back on things now, as I wait for The day to come closer. I have no regrets. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with me or more like what’s right. I guess that’s not for me to say. I know deep down what happened was right. Some cop in a cheap suit asked me once if I ever thought that there was another way to handle the situation. Funny, that made me chuckle. I thought about my answer for a while before I replied, telling him no. For me it’s that simple really. I learned in that moment, that things are much more clear cut then we would like them to be.

It all comes down to choices really. We all have choices and I made mine. There isn’t a single part of me that has ever second guessed my decision. I own it unlike many people in this place who are trying desperately to put the blame elsewhere. That has never been the case for me. I have no problem looking at myself in the mirror. I make no apologies for who I am. I don’t expect anyone to understand and I wouldn’t care if they did. I’m at peace with myself at peace with what happened. I like myself just fine.

The lights went out as they always do at this time of night. It’s hot in here like always on a summer nights. I’ve been here too damn long waiting for my trail. I lay back trying to picture the summer night’s sky. Closing my eyes I try to remember the smells of a summers evening and the sounds that accompany it. The wonderful fragrances of hamburgers sizzling on a hot grill waft past as I remember. I hear children, my children, laughing and splashing. The giggles are shrill and piercing little girls are like that. I smell the jasmine in the air coming from somewhere not too far off. I hear beer cans as they are tossed into the large metal trashcan. Then I listen carefully as the music off in the distance finally reaches my ears. I think its Bob Segar deep and soulful.

I strain my senses wanting more of this night and I picture the arrival of a pineapple upside down cake as it makes its appearance on the picnic table. Mixed in with the music and the laughter and the children’s voices, I hear that familiar roar coming closer. I close my eyes more tightly focusing in on that sound. I can feel it as it comes closer. The sound getting louder with each mile of asphalt it devours. The distant roar has turned into that all too familiar rumble I love hearing. To me it sounds magical, like music, rhythmic and rich. For me it touches something deep inside.

Then there’s a flash or chrome as the hypnotic machine bursts onto the scene joining the party. I’ve imagined this a thousand times yet I can never see the riders face, not that it matters. It could be me or any one of my brothers I suppose. I’ve learned to force myself to sleep even when I don’t feel tired because I know its better for me. It keeps me alert and at the top of my game. I’ve needed that edge here just like I’ve needed my dreams and fantasies. They have kept me sane and humble and true to myself as I wait for tomorrow to finally come.

Tonight however, sleeps just not in the cards as the screams of some tortured soul further down the block make it impossible. I have replayed that night like a movie over and over. I have looked at the situation carefully looking high and low; watching every subtle nuance waiting to see if the outcome could have been different. Now as I watch it playing as if in slow motion. I realize that in doing so I am second guessing myself. Then I tell myself No I’m only trying to reassure myself that I was right. In spite of what anyone else may think or say. I remained true to my personal code; unlike the law today because I believe in justice and an eye for an eye. I believe that and I will protect that belief even if it means losing my life or my freedom. The actions taken were justified no verdict will ever change that in my mind or my heart. It is a fact; simple and true. I have come to realize that given the opportunity I would do it again without hesitation.

Slowly, I roll over onto my side to avoid the harshness of my bunk. I never face the wall not allowing myself to be vulnerable. Especially not at night after all I’m not alone in here. I trust only myself. Even my cellmate of the past year will forever remain suspect. You never know who might want to make a name for themselves in this place. Or maybe make a buck. You can never be certain so I remain cautious especially after dark. At least in this world things are far more cut and dried then on the outside. Infractions are dealt with harshly and justice is swift. Hostilities always boil over and there is always an end result.

I hear the train in the background it sounds off as it approaches the intersection. I. can smell the scent of orange blossoms in the night air. I knew tonight my daughters were with my Mother seeing a movie. I know that later she will take them out for ice cream before they return to her house that has now become their home. My oldest Kimmy she’s seven all girly, pink and frilly. I’d bet she brought along her sparkly Little Mermaid backpack loaded to the top with all her favorite things. She’s like that she holds onto things. She is my oldest and a beautiful child. She is warm, kind and very smart. I fell in love with her the moment she entered the world.

She has a smile that can light up the night. My beautiful little girl was always smiling until he came along. She was only six when it started. The change in her was dramatic. That smile was gone along with the giggly laughter then the silliness it all disappeared. She became quiet, sullen and bad tempered. It broke my heart to see the change in her but I listened to my x-wife, who assured me it was only a phase. I now know it was because she was broken and no one including me knew it back then. I grit my teeth just thinking about it. I want to scream allowing the rage to break through. The knot in my stomach reappears. I begin sweating as the anger wells up inside me once more. I suppose it will never go away because some part of it is directed at me.

My youngest Nicky is four now. She’s still all babyish. My little towhead she’s still cuddly, smelling like the sandbox she loves so much. Nicky is the polar opposite of her big sister. She is a tomboy. She loves dirt, mud pies, trucks and motorcycles. She hates pink, prefers her little jeans to dresses. I remember it was always a fight to get her to dress up which usually resulted in bribery. Thankfully she responded well to that which allowed for the perfect Christmas photos. I have always loved to listen to her talk. Her little voice sounds like music to my ears. I remember holding her in my lap the first time I took her for a ride on my bike the look on her face was priceless.

My x-wife’s name was Darla and I was crazy about her. She was tall and blond the exact opposite of me. She had never been on a motorcycle before and although she was scared at first she learned to enjoy it. We went everywhere together. I was head over heels for the girl. Later we got married and had our two babies. We were happy, life was good or so I thought. We shared the girls with my Mom who lived near us and her folks when they visited from Oregon. During all of that I started my own construction company and was doing fairly well. We were able to buy a nice house and drive nice cars and save a little money too.

I guess I should mention I was a Satan’s Angel when Darla met me. I got my patch before I was old enough to drink. It is something I take very seriously. My brothers became part of my family. We are a close bunch; closer then most. Many of us grew up in the same neighborhoods. We went to school together, played sports together. None of us were the poor kids from the wrong side of the tracks as some reporters like to portray us. No, we all grew up in middle class homes in suburban neighborhoods. Our folks worked hard, some got divorced like my folks but that was about it. I’d never been in any real trouble before of after joining the club; well until now. You see unlike popular belief not everyone that rides a motorcycle is a criminal.

When Darla and I first were together I remember she loved being around my brothers. She loved going to the parties and going on runs; it was part of what made her perfect for me. I guess we’d been together two years before we got married. The truth be told I couldn’t have been happier. I had Darla, my Mom, my brothers and a business