Wild Ride

by Rebecca Avery

  The nagging sensation that she should be doing something… calling him… checking up on him, kept her wide awake for a couple of hours. Unable to stand it a minute more, she turned on the light next to her bed.

  Taking out her cell phone she called his cell phone. It rang and rang and finally went to voicemail. Something was really wrong… the only time he didn’t answer his phone was when he was painting at the shop and there was no way he was still working at this hour… was there? She disconnected the call and immediately dialed his number again. His voicemail picked up a second time.

  Hanging up without leaving a message, her stomach was in knots. She was probably over reacting or being some sort of creeper calling him repeatedly in the middle of the night but the feeling wouldn’t go away. Finally out of desperation she dialed Dickie’s number.

  Dickie had promised to show her how to change the oil in her car and had told her to call him when she was ready to learn real world stuff. She still wasn’t ready but… she didn’t want to bother Lilly or Dana at this hour… so Dickie was her only option. Hopefully he would forgive her if it ended up being nothing.

  “Mmm yea,” a sleepy voice answered.

  “Dickie?” she asked.

  “Yea… who’s this?” he asked.

  “This is Meredith… I’m sorry to call so late but I… I… have you heard from Chuck?” she finally spit out feeling incredibly stupid.

  “No, he was still painting when I left the shop earlier… something wrong?” he asked, sounding more awake.

  “Umm… I’m not sure. This may sound incredibly stupid but he usually calls me… every night… and he didn’t call…” she stammered.

  After a brief pause he said, “Did you have a fight?”

  “No… he was acting all weird when we got back from driving around earlier and other than him calling my mom to tell her he wouldn’t be here tonight… that’s the last I’ve heard from him,” she said, feeling herself tear up. “I tried to call him twice and he’s not answering… and I have this feeling that something’s wrong. I can’t explain it and I didn’t know who else to call. Can you try to call him… please?”

  She could hear him wrestling around as though he were getting up and after some more noises he said, “I’ll do you one better… I’m going to run over there and check on him myself. You go on to sleep and don’t worry… I’ll call if something’s wrong… I promise. If nothing’s wrong you can punish him for making you worry later.”

  “Thanks Dickie… I’d like to apologize in advance for waking you up and sending you on a merry goose chase for… probably nothing… but thanks anyways,” she finished.

  After hanging up the phone with Dickie she felt her entire body relax and was surprised that she had been so physically tense. Within minutes she was asleep.

  Banging upon the front door and the doorbell ringing started Meredith awake the following morning. Looking at her alarm clock she noticed it was late. She hadn’t even heard the boys getting ready for school she’d slept so soundly. Her mother would have left a while ago for work and would be home by lunch time.

  Carla was taking a half day off work to prepare for a cookout they were hosting over the weekend. Meredith cringed at the thought that Josh would be there with his parents.

  Memories of her late night phone call with Dickie sprang to her mind and she got up as quick as she could, donned her prosthetic and threw on some sweat pants. Then she headed downstairs. She had to force herself to slow down as she tried to hurry to the front door.

  She was fully expecting either Chuck or Dickie to be on the other side of the door. She came up short at the skinny man and two larger thugs who stood on the front porch of her house pointing a gun right at her.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I’m fine… really,” Chuck said.

  “Well you look like shit. Don’t think for a second that people won’t notice you’ve just got your ass kicked, regardless of your pretty mug,” Dickie said.

  “I have to do this… I need the hours to make the full twenty five for this week… and I’m this close to finishing the whole test,” he replied, indicating how close with his thumb and index finger.

  Sighing heavily, Dickie only stared at him. “How can I fault you for finishing what you start. You best call that girl as soon as you get done with the test though. She’s something else. Women like that don’t come along often boy… that connection you feel to her is likely the same connection she felt last night that made her call me.”

  “I’ll call her… I promise,” he said. To break things off with her.

  “You know you could have asked me for the money,” Dickie said. “Though paying that little thug is only going to make him keep coming back for more.”

  “If you can pick up my check and drop it off to me at the college I’ll get it cashed and pay him and it’ll be over. I don’t live in south side anymore so I won’t run into him very often and may not need any protection. I’m done with that shit, man. I just want out… I’ve wanted out for years now and somehow…”

  “Well getting a beat down and showing up for your GED test anyways is a good step in that direction,” Dickie said, smacking him on the shoulder. The old man stood up from the couch he’d crashed on for a few hours after scraping him up off the floor.

  Swallowing down a couple of aspirin to help the pounding in his head from the vicious punches it had taken, he grabbed a banana and followed Dickie outside. After locking up his apartment he waved Dickie on and got on his bike. He forced thoughts of Meredith aside as he prepared for the last part of the test.

  He could do this, and when it was done, then he would take some time to contemplate the wonder that was her. How had she known he was in trouble and needed her help?

  It took all his mental energy to finish the test rather than laying his head down or better yet knocking himself out to stop the hammering in his skull. The people around him would periodically stare at him as though they expected him to jump out of his seat and hold the place up. Between the staring and the pounding in his head, the test seemed especially hard and especially long.

  When the exam ended he headed out to the front of the college and could only shake his head at Dickie who was surrounded by hot college girls. He was smiling at them… and giving them his autograph? The man still had it… he was kind of scruffy looking with dark unruly hair that was greying along the sides and blue eyes.

  It didn’t hurt that he was pretty buff for an old guy. That along with the charisma and his natural way with women, he could have them eating out of his hand… if he wanted. Dickie had never been a womanizer, at least in the almost five years he’d known him.

  As he made his way down to the little gathering of ladies all flirting with Dickie, he decided now was as good a time as any to call Meredith. Pulling out his cell phone and powering it on, he noticed he had a voicemail message. He dialed the voicemail service and listened… it had only been left a little while ago.

  “I hope you got that money you owe me Chuckie… I’m thinking your little girlfriend does too. Here, tell Chuck you want him to pay me the money his punk ass owes me,” JC’s voice in the message made his blood run cold.

  The crying he heard in the background was from Meredith and Carla it sounded like. As much as the sound of JC’s voice made his blood chill, the sound of Meredith and Carla crying seemed to instead heat his blood to the point of explosion. JC Combs was a dead man.

  Looking to Dickie, the old man must have seen it on his face and waved the girls off coming over to where he stood. Putting the phone on speaker he replayed the message for Dickie and then said, “Thanks for bringing my check but that dead mother fucker won’t need my money after all.”

  With that he headed toward his bike only to find Dickie’s arm around his neck in the next second, choking off his air supply. Dickie effectively caught both arms in one of his and Chuck’s neck in the other, leaving him incapable of getting loose or even speaking.

  “We are g
oing to do this my way, boy… that little girl is in bad trouble and you going off halfcocked is only going to get yourself killed. Besides… do you even know where he is right now?” Dickie asked.

  After several seconds the rage left and was replaced with calmness that allowed his mind to process the situation. The boys would be home from school in a couple of hours but it was possible that JC had been following him long before yesterday.

  Meredith didn’t work today and would probably have been at home preparing for the cookout that Carla was throwing tomorrow night. Having heard Carla in the background confirmed his thoughts.

  “She has to be at their house,” he finally gasped out.

  Hearing that he was thinking rationally again, Dickie released his hold on him and took a cell phone out of his pocket. He punched in some numbers and waited.

  “Edna, this is Dickie… Chuck and I need a favor. I need you to call Judge Patterson in about ten minutes and tell him that some of the guys from that group Chuck used to hang around with have got his daughter and granddaughter. Tell him that we think that they are still at the Johnson’s house and we are headed there,” he said into the phone.

  After a small pause he said, “Don’t worry… you know I’m not going to let anything happen to him, Meredith or her mama. Chuck’s ready to make a deal with Judge Patterson this time and that old man is going to owe me one after this is over. I expect him to hear the boy out fully in exchange for me ensuring his family is safe.”

  Another small pause, “I always am… but I appreciate your concern,” he finished and hung up the phone.

  Grabbing Chuck’s upper arm in his hand Dickie walked them toward where their bikes were parked side by side. “Follow me to my house… I have to get a couple of things and then we’re going to get Meredith.”

  The old man looked all business… a side of him Chuck had never seen. Dickie was normally a happy go lucky kind of guy. Full of fun and good humor, along with his occasional pearls of wisdom… that was the Dickie he knew.

  The man who walked beside him was leading him as though he were a child. His entire demeanor had changed and a hardened look covered his face making him seem… different… dangerous.

  Though they were similar in size and the old man had a good twenty five years on him, of all the guys at the shop… Dickie was the one he wouldn’t want to scrap with. From time to time they would play fight at the shop, back when the work had been slow.

  It had all been for fun but having grown up on the streets he could tell the difference between someone who was mostly talk and someone who would leave a mark. Dickie could leave a mark if not for his jovial personality.

  Tommy was the first to admit he was more of a lover than a fighter… though he’d probably been in the most fights of any of them… due in part to that philosophy.

  The joke was some angry husband was going to be the death of Tommy… but he had somehow managed to always hold his own. Thank God Dana came along and his prowling days were behind him.

  Bobby was the biggest and strongest of the bunch and was kind of scary looking at times but he was normally like a quiet giant. As long as you didn’t piss him off you were fine. When you did piss him off… he was pretty brutal… but he fought with anger.

  In all the years he’d known him… he’d only seen Bobby really pissed once… the night Lilly had been held hostage. Now he could understand the ass whipping Bobby had unleashed on that man.

  Dickie wasn’t brutal, he was calculated… every hit seemed to count. Even Bobby appeared to respect the old man’s abilities and didn’t mess with him. He had obviously taken some martial arts training in his younger years or something.

  Dickie had taught him some defensive moves but even so, if not for his heavier frame and build… he wouldn’t have stood a chance against the old man.

  After driving their bikes to Dickie’s house Chuck could only stand and watch as the man took charge. First Dickie called and left a message with Lilly that something had come up and they would try and be back to the shop later. Then he went to his room and closed the door for several minutes.

  Dickie’s house was very bare… the only pictures on the wall were a couple that Chuck had painted himself… both of which were old motorcycles. Dickie’s furniture was old and outdated but his house always smelled like food.

  He enjoyed cooking too though it was mostly done out of necessity. Dickie would cook for no apparent reason but prepared weird fancy crap no one was willing to actually eat. Except Italian… he made great Italian dishes.

  After a few short minutes Dickie came out of his room and looked at him as he headed to the door. “Let’s go,” he said. “I’m going to park down the street from her place so point the house out before we approach. Don’t worry about me, just go up to the house and knock so they think you are alone.”

  Soon enough they were on their way to Meredith’s house with him leading the way. He realized that by Dickie taking charge he somehow didn’t feel so alone in this whole mess anymore.

  He almost felt guilty that he hadn’t said anything to Dickie before things got so bad. Everyone at the shop seemed to be in each other’s business and Chuck listened and helped where he could but never really shared too much about himself.

  Until today… this morning… listening to Dickie rave about how great he thought Meredith was, how sharp her instincts were and now trying to make sure he was safe. It hadn’t dawned on him. Dickie cared about him.

  All the guys cared about him as much as he cared about them. It was a foreign idea that someone would actually return his affection… but they did. Meredith did too and he’d shut her out as well.

  If he had told her what was going on… she was smart enough to keep herself safe. She’d been unaware though… and that was his fault.

  If something happened to her… or Dickie… because he couldn’t bring himself to admit to anyone just how fucked up his life was… he’d never forgive himself.

  After pointing out a good spot for Dickie to pull over, he waited for the old man to park and get off of his bike and then pointed out Meredith’s house. Without a word Dickie took off through a side yard headed in that direction. When he could no longer see Dickie, he headed further down the street to their house.

  Carla’s car was parked in the driveway and he hadn’t noticed any other vehicles on the drive in that looked out of place for the neighborhood. The house was almost too quiet. His own house had been pretty quiet last night though and he’d let his guard down thinking he was safe… that wouldn’t happen again.

  Going up to the front door he knocked… Carla had long ago told him not to bother knocking, to just come on in. However, if JC and his crew were there he didn’t want to give away just how important the people in this house had become to him.

  God willing this would be the last time he had to deal with this. He had no weapons but he was willing to do whatever it took to get Meredith and Carla out. He just hoped JC didn’t kill him in front of Carla and Meredith. They’d been through enough.

  After several minutes the door opened a crack and Carla’s face appeared in the doorway. He could tell she’d been crying as her eyes were puffy. Upon seeing him she again burst into tears and was hauled backwards then shoved to the ground. He busted through the door hitting someone behind it in the face. He went to where Carla was on the floor.

  “Are you ok?” he asked, “God I’m so sorry…”

  He crouched down and she put her hand to his cheek and nodded yes. Then he felt the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head.

  “Glad you could make it for community service time… Chuck,” JC said.

  “I got your money… tie them up and let’s get out of here… go get a drink or something,” Chuck offered.

  “I don’t think so… you owe interest now for the extra time and effort I had to expend to catch up to your dumbass,” JC said. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I help myself to a little something from mommy dearest, since, unlike yourse
lf, I don’t do one legged bitches. However, my boys here might want a little sample of that…”

  A noise sounded from down the hall and suddenly Dickie appeared with one of JC’s thugs in a hold much like he’d found himself in earlier at the college campus. The difference was this man was still holding a gun but it was pointed at his own head. Dickie’s free hand was covering the man’s hand, holding it and the gun in place.

  The man who was standing behind him holding a gun to his head straightened and shot at Dickie… who lowered the man’s hand and forced him to shoot back catching the guy in the middle of his chest.

  “Hey!” JC yelled at seeing the man fall and realizing he was on his own. “Calm down man… let’s talk.”

  “Do you want to live?” Dickie asked the man he was holding on to who looked about to pass out. The man could barely nod his head yes.

  “Then shoot him,” Dickie said, taking the man’s hand and pointing the gun at JC.

  The man hesitated for a brief second then another shot rang out and JC fell to the ground writhing and crying. Carla scrambled up and ran through another hallway yelling for Meredith.

  “Move,” Dickie told the man and guided him over to where JC lay on the floor. “Finish him.”

  The man again hesitated and then suddenly shot the gun and after a few seconds JC lay quiet within an arms distance from the first man. He could not believe what he was seeing… Dickie was like some sort of Rambo.

  “Throw the weapon down on three,” Dickie told the man he still held and then counted. The man did exactly as he was told.

  “Run and hide… or stay and die? The choice is yours but if Chuck or I ever see you again… you will end up right alongside your friends here. Make your choice… now… but Chuck is done with your little club… has been for a while so you best make sure the rest of the kids on the playground know that,” Dickie said to the man.

  Moving slowly to the front door and opening it up, Dickie pushed the man out so forcefully he nearly ended up on his face.

  The guy regained his footing and took off running as though the hounds of hell were chasing him. Dickie shut and locked the front door and turned to him.