On Broken Wings Read Free Page B

have said anything, forgive me." She started to turn away.
    "Christine." The command in his voice pulled her eyes back to his. His intensity was undiminished.
    "Do you need some time to be alone?"
    "I don't know...maybe, yes."
    "I can meet you here later if you like."
    "NO!" Several nearby heads turned toward them, gazes lingering before they turned away. "I mean, I'm okay."
    "I don't think so, but you're the judge. Is there anything at all you can think of right now that I could help with?"
    "No, thank you, it's okay. Please, I mean it, really, just stop looking at me that way!"
    His mouth fell halfway open. "I'm sorry." He rose and turned to go.
    "Louis." She could manage no more than a whisper.
    At once his laser-like focus was upon her again. "Yes?"
    "Thank you. Maybe I'll see you later." It had to be forced past the steel bands around her chest.
    Another gentle smile. "Perhaps. Take care." He left.
    Two minutes later she was back in her room, wondering when the courage to leave it would return.
    ***
    "Which one's next?" Hans sprawled across Tiny's dirty sofa at his ease.
    Rollo stood at Tiny's desk. He ran a callused finger down the page of hospital and clinic names. Every general health care institution in the county was listed there. There were fifteen in all. "Onteora General."
    Tiny grunted and continued to stare out his window, most of his thoughts elsewhere. They had been to twelve hospitals over the past three days. None had had special facilities for accident victims. None had admitted to having a patient who'd been in a cycle smackup. None had admitted to having a patient without identification or cash. Tiny was confident of his findings. He had not relied on charm.
    "Where is it?"
    Rollo peered at the fine Yellow Pages print. "Overton Drive." He transferred his attention to a tattered atlas of Onteora County. "Hey, boss, that's just off two-thirty-one!"
    Tiny took notice at that. "Where we lost Tex."
    Hans sat up straight. "Yup! Do we ride?"
    The Butcher chieftain turned from his window and strode to the rusty coat tree by the outside door. "You're Goddamned right we ride." He pulled his jacket around him and zipped it with a quick jerk, heedless of obstructions and broken zipper teeth. "Roust the others."
    Hans jerked himself upright and charged into the main barracks area.
    As the door to Tiny's quarters swung closed, Rollo cleared his throat. "What about the rookie? You gonna leave him here?"
    Tiny turned and saw concern on Rollo's face. "He hasn't been initiated yet."
    His second-in-command scowled. "But you're gonna, right?"
    "No shortcuts, Rollo. We've got a procedure. He isn't a Butcher yet."
    "Boss -- !"
    The biker lord stared hard into his lieutenant's eyes. Rollo didn't flinch. "Get him in here."
    Rollo headed out the back door. He returned seconds later with his new prize.
    Tiny appraised the young biker from head to toe. He looked good: young, maybe twenty-five. Almost as tall as Tiny himself, lean but well-muscled and tough looking, with an easy confidence in his eyes and bearing that was unaffected by the surprise interview with his commander-to-be. The way he cradled his helmet in the crook of his arm suggested a military background. The only discordant note was the luxuriant head of shoulder length red-brown hair.
    "What do you call yourself, rookie?"
    "Rusty."
    "You serious about us, boy?"
    The young biker nodded. "Yes, sir."
    Tiny waved at Rollo, who'd remained by the door.
    "We're about to go on a hit. Rollo thinks we ought to bring you along, show you what the work is like before we initiate you. You like the sound of that?"
    Rusty nodded again. "Yes, sir."
    Tiny strode forward, putting his face within inches of the young man's. "Well, remember this, Rusty: this is my outfit. Butchers do as I say, when I say it. And you'll be the same. If I haul you out of bed at three in the morning and tell you to paint the ceiling, you'll up and do it then and there, even if you're in the middle of a fuck.