by Jayne Blue
“There you go! I think it’s perfect.”
Lyric looked down and beamed.
“Perfect, thank you Chaz.”
“I’ll give you a minute to get dressed.” Chaz walked out.
“You want to see it?”
“Of course.” I walked to the side of the table. The tattoo was small, all black, it was a few lines and a few squiggles.
“What is it.”
“It’s a b.”
“What?”
“This how they show what key a piece of music is in. This is the key of b. For Bo.”
Shit. Her first ink was about me.
“It’s beautiful.”
I leaned down, careful not to touch the tatt. I put my lips on the spot just above it and kissed her there.
“You like it?”
“I fucking love it. You look sexy as hell. Let’s get out of here though. I can only be expected to keep my shit together for so long under these conditions.”
I kissed her on the lips. She wound her fingers in my hair.
“Just don’t tell Papus at dinner tomorrow.”
“No fucking way,” she laughed. “Now get me home, I’ve got chicken to paprikash before tomorrow.”
“Remember, no baths for a few days, just showers.”
“Yes, sir.”
She popped off the tattoo table and we made our way back through Woody’s.
Benz, Maddox, and Shep were still there.
“Hey, we’re headed to Digby’s later, if you’re free,” Benz said and looked at Lyric. They were all enjoying this too much I decided.
I looked at Lyric too. She smiled.
“I’m too young for that place, plus the paprikashapalooza.”
“Yep, I’ll catch up with you after I drop her.”
“Let’s see the new ink, Lyric?” Shep suggested.
“No. Hard no. Let’s go.”
I practically dragged Lyric out. I ignored the fact that she and my brother were all laughing hysterically. What was so damn funny?
I drove us through town. The sun had set, it was getting late. Our favorite time in Port Az.
Lyric leaned her head on the back of my shoulder.
I’d been too uptight about sharing her. I knew that. I’d work on that. I’d have to if we were going to survive her going away to college.
In my hustle to get out of Woody’s, I hadn’t really let it sink in. Her ink was about me. That blew me away.
Now it sank in. I’d be with her, a little anyway, when she left.
We got to Wilde Pawn too soon. I liked having her on the back of my bike. Though the way she was going, she’d be riding around on her own before I knew it. She loved the machine and learning all about it.
I cut the engine and she lingered with her head on my shoulder for a second.
“Thanks for taking me today, Bo.” She whispered the words and then climbed off the bike. She came around to face me.
“Thanks for putting me on your hip. No one but me will ever know you have it. Right?”
“Unless I go swimming.” She cocked her head at me.
“Hhmmph.”
“I love you, Bo.”
“I love you too, Wild Girl.”
She tiptoed up and we kissed.
“Remember, 6:30 tomorrow. Dinner with your neighborhood gypsy pawnbroker.”
“I’ll be there. Should I bring something?”
“How about go to the bakery and get some cupcakes or something. Papus loves cupcakes!”
“Anything for Papus.”
I bopped her on her cute nose and she crinkled it. She turned and went inside Wilde Pawn. I watched her get safely in.
Holy shit. I was going to go to dinner with her family tomorrow night? What the fuck? I’d never met a “family” of any chick.
I was sure they’d fucking hate me and want Lyric to move on. But she wanted me to do it. So, I would.
My phone buzzed.
A text from E.Z. lit up the screen.
“Get to my place. Now. Fast.”
* * *
E.Z. had a house. A lot of the older guys did. Someday I’d do the same. Buy something old, fix it up for Lyric.
I shook off the thought. We had a long way to go before we got to a house in the country.
E.Z. always had me park in back; he always had me hide. He was fucking paranoid all the time but maybe it was justified. The Dark Saints had enemies and next to Bear, E.Z. was in charge. Our enemies knew it.
E.Z. was in his kitchen. He had a tumbler of whiskey. And there was duffle bag on his kitchen table. His new Old Lady was probably already in her alcohol-induced sleep.
“What’s up E.Z?”
“You did a piss poor job of fucking hiding the bodies, that’s what’s up.”
“What?”
“I told you to get rid of them. Arnie and what’s it, Dougie. What is this? Your first day?”
“E.Z. I beat the shit out of them. But they were alive.”
E.Z. was livid and it was directed at me.
“I told you to fucking get rid of them. That means the bodies, too. You know this. Why the fuck didn’t you call Dugger? Goddamn it Bo. You are fucked.”
Dugger was the man who we called where there were actual bodies to bury. I had no use for him. What the fuck was E.Z. talking about?
“I ran them out. Broke some bones. How am I fucked?”
I didn’t have the first clue about why E.Z. was so pissed. Other than that he wanted me to kill Dougie and Arnie and I just terrorized them instead?
“Dougie and Arnie’s bodies washed up at the docks.”
“What?”
“Yeah, sea creatures had started in on them but didn’t quite do the job. There’s two bodies and my snitch in the PAPD says it’s those two fuckers.”
“Look, someone else did that shit.”
I racked my brain for who might have done it. But I honestly didn’t know more than that they were two low-level Hawk affiliated pushers.
“Probably a drug deal gone bad. Or some Hawk. It wasn’t fucking me.”
I was not going to take a fall for something I didn’t do. I’d done plenty that I would own up to, but this wasn’t fucking me.
“Maybe, but that’s not what the security video says.”
“Hunh?”
“Your little girlfriend called the cops the other day. They’ve got you fucking with them in her pawn shop. Then outside Cups you’re on traffic cam kicking the shit out of them.”
“That doesn’t mean I killed them.”
“Right, well your juvie record and your association with The Saints means no one is going to believe you after seeing that video.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you’re getting out of Port Az. Now. We had an emergency vote. Bear, me, some of the main officers.”
“What? You voted on my future and I didn’t even get a say?”
“Listen, you’re out of here. The duffle has a dark cell phone, 10k, and keys to the bike I’m hiding in the garage. You can’t drive yours.”
“Where do you want me to go?”
“Head west. We’re going to farm you out to a few clubs. You’ll be freelance enforcer. It’ll be goodwill with other clubs. And it’ll get the heat off you and us.”
“How long?”
“Long as I say, long as it takes.”
My head was spinning. My club had decided. I was going dark for The Dark Saints.
“E.Z., I fucking didn’t kill those assholes.”
“Well you should have, eh? Maybe if you did, they’d be buried better.”
E.Z. put the bag in my arms.
“This is bullshit.”
“This is what the Club needs. You’re still a Dark Saint. This is what it means. Right now you’re bringing major heat to us, to everything we built. Get the fuck out and disappear until we get that heat off.”
“Got it.”
I understood, but I still couldn’t believe this was happening.
&
nbsp; “Your bike’s around back, grab your own pack off yours if you want. Give me your cell.”
“What?”
“You don’t call me, you don’t call the brothers, you don’t call that gash you’ve been fucking who turned in the security video.”
I winced as he said it. Lyric. She hadn’t turned in the video to cops to get me arrested; she’d done it to get Arnie and Dougie arrested.
I put my phone on E.Z.’s table.
“You’re doing it for the club. I’ll work on this end to figure out who killed those two. Now move it! You need to be out of state before they decide to issue a BOLO on your ass.”
I took the bag and walked to the back door.
“Can you have Maddox let Lyric know I had business. Something?”
“Listen up, no reason to fucking tell her anything. She’s half the reason you’re in this mess. But if you have any fucking romantic ideas about getting to her, keep this in mind: if the cops think you killed those two Hawk lowlifes, the Hawks will too. They’ll come after anyone they think can get to you.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, shit. Leave now and don’t look back. And if you love that girl, you won’t lead Hawks right to her.”
“Going.”
“West, and as soon as club out there needs muscle, I’ll let you know.”
I got my shit off my bike and secured it to the bike E.Z. told me to take. He watched from his kitchen window. I saw him light a cigarette.
I was on the run now.
I felt a pain in my chest as I drove into the night and away from Port Az. The farther I got from Lyric, the harder it was to breathe.
But this was the right thing. I was doing this for the club. They’d done everything for me. It was time I did the same thing. If it were best for The Saints that I disappear, I would disappear.
The hell of it was I knew it was best for Lyric too.
The last thing in the fucking world I wanted was for The Hawks to think she was a way to hurt me or The Saints.
She could go to college, get out of Port Az, have her life, and do it without the violence that was my life.
I hated that I couldn’t tell her why I had left.
But the less she knew the better.
She’d hate me now. Probably forever.
But she’d have a forever.
9
Lyric
* * *
“Look, let’s just eat dinner.”
It wasn’t like Bo to be late, but we’d waited almost two hours.
“I’m sorry honey,” mom said to me as she got dinner out of the oven. She gave me a look of sympathy. I hated that. It was no big deal. He’d got cold feet or had to do something for his club. I was pissed, sure, disappointed, yeah, but it was just a dinner. There’d be other chicken on Sundays to sit through.
I looked at my phone for the millionth time. Bo hadn’t responded to a single text or message.
“It’s going to be rubbery, that’s the tragedy,” my Papus said as he shook his head.
“It’s fine,” my mother said. They put the food down on my plate. I tried to keep it light. I tried to bring up things to talk about other than being stood up.
“I looked up rates for the bus to Savannah.”
“Can’t we drive you?” my mom said.
“No, there’s no need.” I smiled. I looked at my plate. A wave of complete, overpowering nausea bubbled up in my throat. I ran from the table to the bathroom and heaved.
What the hell? Shit, one night without Bo and I was sick to my stomach? What an idiot I had turned into. I couldn’t help but worry about him though. He told me that what he had to do for The Saints was dangerous sometimes. What if something had happened?
My mom knocked on the bathroom door.
“Honey, you okay?”
“Yep, fine.”
But I wasn’t fine. Something was wrong. Something had gone bad.
I came out and Papus patted me on the shoulder.
“Here, have some water.”
I took a sip. My mother looked at me with worried eyes. I hated that, but there was something more.
Under her eyes were dark circles. She was tired, she was overworked, and here I was having a stupid drama over one dinner. I felt like shit.
“So, I have an idea for the future of Wilde Pawn.” I was going to tell them some of my grand plans. Even though I knew Papus would never change his store.
Instead of wallowing and making the circles under my mom’s eyes worse, I’d tell them about my dreams, my business ideas, and we’d look ahead to something fun.
I put my phone down. Bo would call me when he was ready.
I wasn’t some clinging, jealous, worrier. I was fine.
Bo would call.
10
Bo – Five Years Later
* * *
I lifted the heal of my boot off his throat.
“Please, please don’t hurt me.” He said it through a partially crushed neck. Impressive.
It was the same begging that always happened. They sent me to deliver freelance pain. The Saints, sometimes the Great Wolves, sometimes the Diablo Bandits, sometimes other clubs. The names didn’t matter. If a club needed extra muscle they called E.Z. from The Dark Saints. And then I was there.
I didn’t wear my patch or my cut. They were stored away in the bike that had become my home. I was a grim reaper sent out when E.Z. thought it would help The Saints to strengthen ties. Or make a buck.
I got in, got out, and got gone. It was the same with my own club and home town. I was in and out of Port Az, when needed, briefly, and never to be seen by anyone but Saints.
“I told you this is your one chance. Skimming from the MC is enough for me to press down and crush your windpipe.”
I let him know what that pressure felt like again. He squirmed, a little. I’d done my job of letting him know he had no fucking chance. So I released the boot again.
“I know. It was stupid. I’m sorry. Tell them I am. Okay? I just needed a little. It will never happen again.”
“I know it won’t.”
I stepped back. For good measure I bent down and lifted him up from the ground a few inches by his collar. I said my next words in a whisper. He needed to know exactly who to be afraid of.
“Diablo Bandits are the wrong people to fuck with, Boosie T.”
I slammed him back down. He rolled over.
I walked back to my bike and looked to see that Boosie T was still licking his wounds. He’d be alright. Maybe he’d learned his lesson? Or maybe he’d do it again and his club would permanently solve the problem. That wasn’t my issue to deal with. I was paid to keep moving.
Boosie T was the same as most of my jobs. People got greedy. People got stupid. Or they got hooked on something that drained their sense and their cash. All of that shit had to be taken care of.
That’s when they called me. I was there to make a very clear point. If I showed up at your door, shit had hit the fan.
I felt my phone vibrate. It was a burner phone. I had a new one every fucking week.
I stayed on the road a little longer. I didn’t fucking want to talk to E.Z. right now. I didn’t want another three-day hitch to some other desert town.
I was feeling tired. There was no way to change what I was, where I was, what I did, but there could be a fucking break.
I needed the same bed for more than one night in a row.
If E.Z. was calling, it was another loan out. I’d be dealing with some other club’s shit. Just like I did with Boosie T, who’d been taking a bit of cash out of the bag he was supposed to collect and give to the Diablo Bandits. The Diablo Bandits wanted that shit to stop. Maybe it would now. Or Boosie T would O.D. all of it. Every encounter I’d had in five years, hardened my heart. I didn’t have much faith in happy endings.
I pulled into the highway rest stop. They all looked the same. I knew them all like the back of my hand.
I looked at my phone. I didn’t recognize the number but I
did recognize the area code.
Port Az, Texas. I fucking missed it. There was no question. I missed my brothers, I missed my little fucking apartment. I missed a lot. But I didn’t think about it. I couldn’t and still do the shit I had to do.
I dialed the number. After one ring a familiar voice picked up. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in forever.
“Mother fucking hell, it’s been a long-time brother.”
It was Maddox.
Shit I rarely talked to anyone from Port Az, other than E.Z., in the entire time I’d been gone. I was more or less cut off. But that was how it had to be. In a way I was glad of it. It meant I was protecting them. It meant they weren’t in danger. But it also meant I was on my own. No one I cared about was in my life in any real way. For their own good.
“Shit, it’s good to hear your voice Maddox.”
“Yeah, well you’re about to see my handsome fucking face.”
“What?”
“Good news. The heat’s off you.”
I had a hard time comprehending exactly what he was saying. I had been underground. I was a lone wolf. I was away from my club so that I didn’t go down for double homicide. I was also out here to be sure The Hawks didn’t think we wanted war. Though sometimes I forgot what the point of any of it was.
I needed Maddox to explain.
“What’s changed?”
“We’ve got some new friends in the right places. There was zero actual evidence against you. And now even the circumstantial shit is gone. Missing. The property room at the PAPD is a mess. And old security video, well, it’s gone. Completely gone.”
“Hmm. We sure about that?”
“Yes. Very sure. I know it’s been a long time but we’re brothers. We want you back here. But only if you’re not going to get arrested. You won’t. That case is cold.”
“Why are you calling me? I mean, does E.Z. know?”
“Shit yeah, we took it to a vote. He’s how I got your number. I forced the fucker to give it up in Church.”
Church, club meetings; it seemed like a lifetime ago that I had sat at the table with the MC.
“I don’t know. I think maybe I’ve been gone too long to come back.”
