Page 24 of Sweet Pea

“You forget that I work in the D.A.’s office, which means I’m more than familiar with every criminal organization in the Portland metro area. I know exactly who the Burning Saints are and more importantly how they make their money.”

“How’s that?”

“Protection,” I replied.

Sweet Pea’s dimples were on full display as he grinned. “You’ve got this all figured out, don’t you counselor?”

“No, but someone has to do something.”

“So, what? You’re a blood thirsty vigilante now?”

“You make me sound like I’m hatching an evil plot,” I said standing.

“Well, aren’t you?”

“I’m not the monster. You know all too well exactly what Knight did to Elsie.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sweet Pea’s tone turned more serious and his posture stiffened.

“You were in court. You heard her testimony for yourself,” I replied.

“Of course, I know Knight is a monster, but you’re not. You’re a lawyer. Not a judge or a one-woman jury, and you’re sure as hell not an executioner. Especially if you’re not even willing to do the job yourself.”

“I told you I never said I wanted him dead,” I repeated.

“Then what? You want I should break his legs boss?” He said in a 1940s mobster voice.

“Can you please not joke around about this?”

“I’m as serious as a crowbar to the skull, Callie,” Sweet Pea said rising to his feet. His naked body on glorious display. “Is that what you want me to do to Knight? Take a crowbar and bash his fucking brains in? Or how about I break his kneecaps? It’s your dime after all. What do you want, Callie?”

“I want Knight to pay for what he did. I want justice!” I shouted.

“There’s no justice if you have blood on your hands,” Sweet Pea said, walking to me and pulling me to his chest. He held me as the dam of my emotions broke wide open and I began to sob uncontrollably. It was only at this moment in Sweet Pea’s arms that I’d realized where my anger had driven me. This morning, I was a sworn champion of the law, by mid-day I’d hatched a crazy scheme to have Knight roughed up by a biker, and by the nighttime I was having mind-blowing sex with that same biker. I’d heard of grief making people do crazy things, but I must truly be out of my mind.

“Oh, my God,” I said, wiping my face with my arm. “What am I doing?” I asked pathetically.

“Looks to me like you’re losing your shit, counselor,” Sweet Pea said, his trademark smile returning.

“I’d love to argue your point, but I’m compelled to agree with your assessment of the situation.”

Sweet Pea lifted my chin, his piercing blue eyes meeting mine. “Feel whatever you need to feel, Callie. You’re allowed. A guy I respect a lot once told me, ‘Your feelings belong to you, but your actions belong to the world.’”

“Who was that?” I asked, once again surprised by the words of Sweet Pea, the philosopher poet.

“Someone I think you should meet. A friend of mine named Cowboy. I think he might be able to help you with some of the emotions you’re feeling.”

“How’s that?”

“Cowboy is the president of a club called Bikers for Kids. They’re a charity organization that does a lot of work with kids like Elsie Miller and her family. Children that are abused who need someone to stand up for them. They try to be a voice for the voiceless. I think you’d like them. Cowboy was angry, too, so he decided to do something about it.”

“And you think the two of us should meet?”

“I do. As a matter of fact, a couple of the Saints have been out on a charity run with BFK and should be getting back to town any time. They’re staying at the Sanctuary. Maybe you could stop by tomorrow after church and I could introduce you before they head out of town.”

“Sure,” I said with a yawn, starting to feel the effects of a full-blown adrenaline dump. “But I’m still not sure why.”

“I meant what I said back at Sally Anne’s. There’s a lot about my club you don’t know.”

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