The Four Stages of Loving Dutch Owen - Debra Kayn Page 0,50

us, and he'll have the package."

Woody looked at the vice president, then walked off. Dutch let his chin fall to his chest. He was going to throw up if he couldn't get a drink soon.

"Here, brother," said Skull.

He cracked his eyelid open and took the bottle offered to him. Putting the whiskey bottle to his lips, he chugged until he had to breathe.

"Still bleeding?" Skull grabbed Dutch's hair and yanked his head up. "I'll grab the kit, and we'll see if the tape will keep it closed for you."

Dutch moved over and righted an overturned chair, sitting his ass down. Cradling his head in the towel, he leaned over and planted his elbows on his knees.

He wasn't willing to throw his life away. Marla Marie was out there alone because of him.

He'd sent her away after watching her waste away while he sat his ass in prison. Every visitation, she lost her spark. It was only a matter of time before the damage he'd caused scarred her for life.

The only option he had, sitting in prison, was to send her away. Let her get a taste of life and rely on her friends, on Rachel.

He should've known she'd fall back on relying on herself.

She left Bellevue and never looked back.

Sitting in a house that only brought pain, Marla Marie took the deed for her childhood home that he'd bought for her. He never planned for her to live there again. Hell, he'd bought the house because he was trying to keep one step ahead of the cops if they investigated a missing child.

He wanted to convince himself that he'd bought it for Marla Marie because he felt like he owed her something from her past since she lost everything, including her mom.

He assumed someone had hired her in Moses Lake because she stayed away from Bellevue.

In six months, she'd called Rachel and Skull once. Fucking once, to tell them she was doing fine. But she wouldn't come back. It was too painful.

He knew her reasons.

It was because of him.

Footsteps echoed in the clubhouse. He raised his head, and Woody approached him, pulling up a chair.

"You can go back on the road. Any communication between the chapters that can't be done over the phone will be through you. Allman will continue carrying the money." Woody motioned for Skull.

His brother-in-law came with the First Aid kit. Adrenaline filled Dutch. His route would take him to Moses Lake. It would take him ten minutes from the pool hall to get to Marla Marie's house.

"When do I start?" he asked, ready to ride.

"We've got the rally on Saturday and Sunday, and you'll need to hit Moses Lake on Monday." Woody studied him. "You'll have to be in Spokane by the following Wednesday, back here by Friday the twenty-first."

That gave him four days to get in shape to ride. Most importantly, it would give him nine days to stay in Moses Lake before he had to leave.

"I'll be ready," he said.

"Keep your head." Woody wouldn't let go of the conversation. "I know you're dealing with shit being back on the outside, but put that all behind you. Keep your ass safe. I'd hate to lose you again."

"Yeah." He'd be ready.

Skull hovered over him, taking the towel from him. "Hold still."

He closed his eyes. Sitting in the chair, letting Skull tape him up, he had a hard time sitting still. He wanted to be on the road. He needed to see Marla Marie.

Five minutes later, Skull finished. "That should do it if you stay down for a while. Don't go jump in the shower yet. Give it a few hours."

The men Woody kicked out earlier trickled back inside, giving Dutch a wide berth. He stood, testing out his head. He'd need to keep his distance from the others until it was time to ride out because if one of them opened their mouth about him robbing the cradle or missing the sweet honey he'd had running around years ago, he'd kill him.

"Good?" asked Skull.

"Yeah." He handed over the bottle. "Tell Rachel I'll stop by the house before I ride out on Sunday."

If he was going to set things right, he needed to have a talk with his sister.

Skull scratched his jaw. "I take it you're going to hunt down my daughter."

"She belongs to me."

"Not anymore."

"Bullshit." He lowered his voice. "I sent her away because it was what she needed."

"What do you think she needs now?"

He reached into his vest pocket, retrieved a cigarette, and popped it