by ML Nystrom
The ladies were going over the plans for one of the club’s biggest events. Every year, the club hosted a community Halloween festival and barbecue at their biggest campground, about fifteen miles outside Bryson City. It was one giant party and fundraiser for a local charity. There were craft vendors that set up to sell handmade soaps, candles, knitted items, mountain art, and anything else you might find at a county fair. There weren’t any fair rides, as there was not enough room to set up that much stuff, but there were lots of games for kids and adults set up by local churches.
Betsey’s domain was the bar to be set up in the campground community house at the pavilion. The club donated and cooked the barbecue, and local people brought side dishes and desserts. Everyone was asked to make a donation to the box at the giant covered picnic area where the food would be set up. The money was given to the local children’s home. The highlight of the afternoon was the Dragon’s Tail Run hosted by the club members. Anyone twelve years old and up with parental permission could get on the back of a member’s bike and be invited to “run the tail.” Bikes would be roaring and running most of the day with screaming excited children on the backs. Brick was very careful about who he had doing the runs, as the Tail of the Dragon was not a road to take lightly. Over three hundred twisting curves in an eleven-mile stretch of road between North Carolina and Tennessee, the Tail was a motorcyclist’s wet dream. The Dragon Runners got their name from the famous road, and owned several biker and campground resorts at both ends.
A map of the Tail was on the bar next to the planning list. My eyes widened a bit at the detailed curves and sharp switchbacks. Betsey tapped the map and filled me in on some club history and legend.
“Brick’s grandpa, Old Jesse, was the one who gave him the idea, and his daddy, Jesse Jr., started the club after World War II. Old Jesse was a ‘shine runner way back during them prohibition years and used to run the Tail in his classic Pontiac GTO, carrying moonshine across the state line. That was the best way to get away from the revenuers back then. Legend is he could make a night run on the Tail in less than twenty minutes. That would be some ride!”
Molly chimed in, “Lord, you know it! Taz’s best time is twenty-two minutes on the short run. Takes over an hour and a half on the full run.”
Tambre turned to me and explained. “The short run starts at the campground base and runs just above Deal’s Gap into Tennessee.” She pointed to a deep curve on the map just after the border. “They turn around here where Parson’s Branch road is, and come back. This is the run they do for the kids. Adults who want to do the fun run have to wait, as there is only one for Halloween and it’s long. We have a backup truck follow in case of any trouble.”
“Brick’s daddy, Jesse Jr., still ran ‘shine like Old Jesse, but started running other stuff as well, for other people.” Betsey added with a serious look on her face. She titched her teeth.
“Not a good time,” Tambre noted. “The club was running drugs and guns through the Tail. Making a lot of money, but all the risk was on the brothers, not the ones doing the deals. More than one Dragon Runner left his blood on the Tail. Cutter’s dad was one of them.”
Betsey kept going. I was getting a bit dizzy from trying to take in all the information.
“Brick got tired of seeing his brothers risking their lives bein’ not much more than errand boys. He started investing in other businesses like the resort campgrounds, the garage, this bar, and other ones around the area. He started recruiting members that wanted something cleaner for their families, but would still allow them to make the kind of money they were used to. People who wanted to live clean and ride free.
“It took time, and when Brick made the break, it got ugly. There was blood spilled on both sides, but we got the club out, and got it clean. Not everyone wanted the Dragon Runners to go legit, and there are still some people out there who resent us for gettin’ out of that business. Said we’d gone soft, but I’ll tell you now, my Brick ain’t never been soft. I say it takes a hard man to make hard decisions, and even harder to stick by ‘em. It’s still not completely over, but we’ve moved up and on. We’re in high cotton now, and Brick and I aim to keep it that way.”
Mute came in the door at that moment, heralded by a chorus of “Hey, Mute.” I looked up and then away. We were on a truce. The last personal words between us were him telling me to quit causing trouble and me calling him an asshole. For the last few weeks, our communications were mostly in my head, with an occasional text. He’d ask for coffee, tell me to run out a tab, or take a beer and bottle inventory. Once or twice he texted me to check on Mackie, as the older man’s shaking hand was getting worse.
Mute: Mackie’s on some new pill. Don’t look like it’s helping much. Find out what it is and what it does.
He had texted yesterday afternoon while I was in class. I wanted to humph at his rudeness, but I was very fond of the Army vet and was concerned about his health as well. I’d done some research on the medication, and now went over to move my books, pour Mute his ever-present coffee, and tell him what I’d found out.
“I looked up Mackie’s medication, and it’s pretty powerful stuff,” I said, setting his white mug down with a small thump. The women were back at their plans, all three heads leaning together, talking and taking notes.
I explained the medicine further, wiping the clean bar with a rag and trying not to look at Mute directly.
“In a nutshell, it helps to regulate the flow of dopamine in the brain so he can control his movements better. It’s pretty risky in that there could be periods of time when it works and when it doesn’t. I think that depends on the dosage, which has to be carefully regulated. There are also a lot of side effects, like nausea, confusion, dizziness, dry mouth, abdominal pain. It’s probably not a good idea for him to be drinking at all with this stuff in his system.”
I risked a glance up.
Mute rubbed his hand across his face. He looked tired, which was rare for him. He ignored his full cup and pulled out his phone, tapping the screen rapidly. My phone beeped and I pulled it out.
Mute: He’s in rough shape rite now. The last stuff they had him on tore him up bad. He couldn’t shit for a week and was seeing bugs on the walls. This stuff had him fighting war demons in his head again. He’s finally asleep and should stay that way.
Mute’s concern for the old man touched me, and I melted a little toward him. Behind his badass biker persona, I could see glimpses of a man who was more protector and warrior than tough and untouchable.
“Keep me in the loop and let me know if he needs help,” I said out loud.
Stud came up to Mute, still wearing his glasses perched on the end of his nose and holding a handful of papers. My heart jumped a little when he threw his devastating smile at me. Mute just frowned deeper.
“Hey, Kat. Hitting the books hard, I see.”
I flushed a bit. “Exams coming up. I have to qualify before I can go on the nursing floor.”
“I’m sure you’ll make it. Mute, I need to go over some things with you. Something’s off with the books.” Stud motioned for Mute to join him at his table.
I wiped down the bar, and headed back to where the ladies were making their plans and cackling. Now it was about Halloween costumes.
“Hey, Kat, what are you going to be?” Molly asked. “Gypsy, belly dancer, witch?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it. I doubt I’ll dress up.” I turned to Betsey. “Do I have to?”
Betsey laughed. “Not really, but if you look at the twinkle in Molly’s eye, she’s ‘bout to take you on as a project.”
I wasn’t so sure I wanted Molly to take me on as a project. She dressed nicely for the most part, but was definitely into the biker babe look. Her hair was always teased out, and she wore a lot of leather. Her makeup was tasteful, but a bit on the heavy side. More than I ever wore at one time.
Molly did look excited at the idea of dressing me up. She clapped her hands together. “Oh, this will be great!
I know exactly what you’ll be. Just leave it to me! Betsey, make sure she’s off Friday night so I have enough time to get her sorted.”
Betsey laughed and blew out a pssht as her phone rang. “Don’t you go turning her into some sort of vampire slut! We already got enough of those hanging around, so keep it covered!”
Molly sat up, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know, it is possible to be sexy without being slutty! It’s all attitude. Showing as much skin as you can is slutty. I got something else in mind.” She turned to me, noting my concerned look. “I promise you’ll like it. Just trust me darlin’. Them boys won’t know what hit them!”
This did not make my worried mind easy, but my thoughts were interrupted by Betsey’s sudden yell.
“Are you shittin’ me?” Her voice was loud and tight with anger. “When? How long? Okay. Okay, Perry, thanks. I’m on my way.”
She jabbed the screen with her finger and all but threw the phone across the bar. I noticed that when she was angry or emotional the country in her came out more in her accent, and her profanity level rose significantly.
“That useless, life-sucking bitch!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. She jerked her purse from behind the bar and grabbed her jacket. “That was Perry down at the Sheetz gas station near River Street. Jonelle done left the kids alone again. Shells got off the bus and found Cody playing in the backyard by hisself. They’re locked out of the house. Ain’t got no spare key, and Jonelle ain’t around. No neighbors home neither. Shells knows to go see Perry if’n there’s a problem and she cain’t call her daddy. Imma gonna kill that stupid bitch!”
She jerked on her leather jacket. “Kat, I need a big favor. Brick has a church meeting tonight at the Lair. Stuff having to do with the club and some happenings around town. I need you to run the bar up there for me. It’s gonna go long, so you might be spending the night. Blue’s on a run up to Tennessee for the sheriff, and will come directly home to his kids. He ain’t gonna be at the Lair at all, so you can take his room tonight if you need it.”
I blinked. “What about here?”
“Close it in a half hour and put a sign on the door saying family emergency. Not enough people right now to stay open anyway. I’ll pay you time and a half for tonight. Molly, Tambre, help her out if you can.”
She turned to the back corner and yelled. “Mute! Stud! I gotta get to my grandkids! Kat’s gonna cover for me tonight! Keep an eye on her and keep her safe. Use Blue’s room if she needs it!”
Tambre spoke. “Get going, Betsey. Call me if you need me.”
Mute came up, his expression thunderous, blocking Betsey and gesturing wildly. Betsey held a hand up in front of his face, and yelled at him in her own fury.
“I ain’t got time to deal with you, Mute. My grandkids are someplace they don’t need to be. Get over yourself and take care of business! I gotta go!”
With that she left, her fingers dialing her phone with sharp jabs. Mute turned his burning gaze on me.
“What the fuck have you done now?!” I heard in my head.
I knew I hadn’t done anything to warrant his fury, and was torn between putting my own hand up angrily in his face or trying to shrink into the floor. I was leaning more toward the floor thing.
“Damn that skanky bitch!” Molly declared. She looked at me. “I’m on duty tonight at the station, but I’ll stay as long as I can. Tambre, you’re watching your grandkids tonight, right? Can you stay for a bit at the Lair after? At least until church is done? Probably not. You may have to solo for a bit tonight, Kat, and it’s bound to be a doozy. Betsey wasn’t kidding about you staying the night up there as the meeting’s gonna go real long and the drinking after will keep on until tomorrow morning. Best to stay safe instead of crashing your car because you’re too tired to see the road. If you don’t feel right, Mute and Stud will be there after the church meeting and you can always hide in Blue’s old room. No one will bother you there.”
Stud had finished getting the papers in order, stacked, and back in a rolling briefcase. I would have laughed at the sight of a leather-clad biker in reading glasses with a fancy office briefcase if I wasn’t so stunned at having to go to the Lair in a few hours.
“She can stay in my room. It’s farther away from the main room, and has a double lock,” he stated calmly, and winked at me.
My eyes widened a bit. The idea that I would need a double lock was just a bit intimidating. “I won’t stay all night. If I’m too tired, I’ll find a ride and just go home at some point when I’m not needed.”
Stud took the glasses off his face and looked at me, ignoring the hostile vibes coming from Mute. “Betsey’s right in that it’s gonna go long tonight. Let’s play it by ear. I’ve got an extra toothbrush, and you can use one of my tees to sleep in if you want it. If you really want to go home later, I’ll take you.”
Mute practically roared in my head, stomping around the bar, shaking his hands and head. It was abundantly clear he wanted me nowhere near the Lair. Why, I didn’t know, but now was not the time to argue.
Molly clapped her hands together again. “Right. Let’s get the bar sorted and closed. We can clean up tomorrow and resume the barbecue planning then.”
Mute felt like the scowl on his face had become permanent. He was more frustrated than angry, but he knew that lately he looked perpetually furious at the world. It’s not Kat’s fault this is happening, he told himself. Betsey’s gotta take care of her grandkids since that shit-for-brains mom of theirs can’t get her head outta her ass!
Still, the thought of Kat at the Lair filled him with a simmering rage. Just because Betsey didn’t allow drugs at the clubhouse didn’t mean the members drank tea, ate little cookies, and talked about the weather or stock market! It was still a rough place, too rough for someone like Kat. The men got loud, drunk, and horny. The women did the same. A lot of drinking and plenty of random sex happened. It wasn’t unusual to see a member getting a blow job from a club woman in public—most of the time that shit went to a back room or a cabin—but tonight the Lair would be full with visiting chapter members for a full church meeting with Brick, and the bunnies would be busy all night keeping everyone happy. Stud was concerned about the accounts. Meth dealers had been spotted in Bryson City, and there were rumors about the drug pipeline starting up again. Too much shit was going down. Kat was going to be in the middle of one of the rowdiest party nights the club would have this year, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Goddamn! he silently yelled as he left the bar to head to the Lair. The look in her eyes earlier when she was explaining Mackie’s medicines showed how much she cared about the old man. He’d felt an urge to reach across the bar, pull her to him, and kiss her. All that sweet in her had to taste good, and he wanted some of it. Wanted it bad, but it wasn’t for him.
Mute jammed a hand over his face again. He was tired from his shift at the bar last night, helping Mackie through his nightmares during the day, and fighting his feelings for Kat. He was facing another long night with club business and watching Kat’s back among the strangers that would be there tonight. He had to stay strong and sure, but damned if something wouldn’t break soon.
Chapter 6
The Lair was not what I expected. It was more like one of the campground resorts the club owned. At the end of the steep drive was what could only be described as a log cabin lodge in a cleared flat area on the top of the hill. A lit gravel pathway was off to one side, blending into the woods and circling back. A bunch of one-room camping cabins were visible from the path, each with a different name burned into the door. The lodge was two stories high, had a wraparound porch complete with several swings on the lower half, and a full deck on the upper. Behind the lodge was a huge deck surrounding a large in-ground pool now covered for the winter. Several storage buildings were off to the other side, as well as another building that was clearly a working garage. Tucked back further into the woods was more of the compound, but it was getting hard to see in the dark.
/> I rode with Molly to the Lair for two reasons. One, because parking was a problem, and two, because I didn’t think my car could have made it up the hill. As pretty as it was, the Lair was like a fortress. Hard to get to, and once the heavy gate was locked, it would render the compound impenetrable.
As I walked into the lodge, I realized my expectations were way off. I was thinking it would be full of torn-up mismatched furniture, sticky floors, stale cigarette smoke, and the like. Instead it was rustic, charming, and clean. Very clean for a live-in clubhouse.
Molly gave me a quick tour. The main front room was a catch-all that spanned both floors, the second floor appearing more as a landing loft with a private apartment on one side and private rooms on the other. One of those was the conference room where the club officers and their guests would hold their biker church meetings. The other apartment side was the private residence and bedrooms for Brick and Betsey. The main room had wooden frame couches with Native American printed cushions. Homemade rectangular coffee tables covered in permanent sweat rings from so many beer bottles and glasses sat in front of the couches. Several big flat-screen TVs were mounted on the walls around the massive room; one in the side extension that held a pool table and a foosball table, and another in the bar area in the other side extension. The bar was smaller than the one at the River’s Edge, but better stocked with higher-grade booze. There was a collection of neon beer lights glowing on the walls, and a couple of deer heads mounted. The one in the bar area sported a red cap, sunglasses, and had a cigarette dangling from its mouth.
A number of members were already at the Lair, hanging out, shooting pool, playing video games. Some of them I’d met briefly, others I did not know at all. Donna was there, as well as Nikki and a few other women I’d seen around the bar but hadn’t met. Everyone could be identified by either their cut, or lack of one. Those men not wearing a Dragon Runners cut were called hangarounds, and were hoping to prospect into the club. But just because you got a chance to attend a private party at the Lair didn’t mean you automatically got to prospect. That was by invitation only, and Brick was very particular about who he let into this inner sanctum. I felt out of place, like a fish trying to swim in desert sand. I could tell this would be a long night, and my best bet was to become invisible and stay that way.