by TylerRose.
“Please say something,” she said when he finished the smoke and crushed it out.
Another moment of dead silence.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said quietly. “You’re right. We can’t afford to be derailed now. Not by something like this. You’ve done nothing that needs forgiving.”
A breath of her relief swept across his chest and he kissed the back of her head.
“That was hard to do, wasn’t it?” he asked.
“Hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life,” she admitted.
“How was your visit with your Grandmother?”
“Wonderful. Thank you for being so pushy. I’m going back on Sunday for an overnight.”
“Okay,” he said with calm acceptance.
Another silence.
“So that’s it?” she asked. “No yelling? No breaking things?”
He smiled in the dark, hand stroking down her bare back.
“Babe, if you are willing to put yourself into that kind of emotional train wreck to make sure I don’t get us into trouble, then I’m gonna pay attention. No yelling. We’re fine. We got this trust thing, remember?”
“Just checkin’.”
He turned, slid down closer. “You need a little of this?” he asked, and began those infinitely tender kisses.
“I’m not mad,” he said after a couple hundred of them. “We’re not breaking up. Go to sleep.”
She did…well, tried. She couldn’t stay asleep, startling awake numerous times in his arms. He was there each time, kissed her forehead and held her closer. She jerked awake about four in the morning, gasping.
“Rick!”
Blinking in the dark, pushing up to her hands on the bed.
“What is it?” Jerome asked, lifting his head.
She couldn’t sleep solid through half a night to save her life.
“A dream. I was trapped on some planet with a guy named Rick and I turned into a white dragon.”
Turning, flopping to the pillow and she was asleep in seconds. Finally she slipped into a deep enough sleep that she didn’t wake until eight.
“Do you remember your dream this morning? The one that woke you up?”
She thought a few seconds, digging for a memory. “No.”
“Okay. Never mind. See you later,” he let it go.
A quick kiss and she ported up to her room to sleep more while he got his day underway.
“Dude, have you seen the news?” Gable asked at the kitchen table.
“No, why?”
“You need to watch the noon news. You’d never believe me if I told you.”
“Way to be cryptic there, bro.”
“Was Tyler with you all night?” Gable asked.
“From the minute she got home. Why?”
“Just checkin’,” Gable said and jogged down to get the video store ready to open.
Starbird was in next. “You seen the news yet?”
“Nooo,” he droned, turning a page. “Whyyy?”
“No reason. Was Tyler with you all night?”
“Yeeeeeess. Whyyy?”
“Alibis are a good thing,” she said brightly.
“Didn’t know I needed one.”
He did decided to go watch Price Is Right and wait for the noon news. Tyler came down about 11:45, coffee in hand, to curl up in the corner of the sofa and wake up. Starbird came in as well, followed closely by Roc. Five minutes before the hour, Gable came up from the store. One minute and Landra Ahr arrived in the social room for a rare appearance.
Channel 11 news.
“A man fell to his death from nowhere last night, landing in the middle of a parking lot on Alexis Road. No planes or helicopters were in the area. Authorities have no idea where he came from. His injuries were so extensive that falling from the thirty foot roof would not have caused them. The coroner’s initial report is that he would have to have fallen from at least five hundred feet. Charles “Honcho” Bradshaw was thirty three years old.”
On to the second news story.
Jerome got up to leave, pausing at the sofa to stroke a finger along her chin. He leaned over to kiss her full on the mouth in front of everyone.
“I’ll be back for supper. I need to go see a guy about a business in need of an owner.”
She only smiled. Landra Ahr went back to work. Gable went back to work scratching his head.
“You did that, didn’t you?” Roc asked Tyler.
“Did what?”
“You teleported him and dropped him.”
“Can you prove that to a jury of my peers?”
“That is still murder, Tyler. There are laws,” Roc said.
“Indeed there are. Laws against harboring extraterrestrials too. Which alarm you wanna raise first?”
Roc chose to leave the room.
“That was harsh, Ty,” Starbird said quietly.
“Some things are not to be questioned,” she replied. “I’ll be back to make supper before work.”
Dressed and ready, she ported to Mickey’s for rehearsal. They would perform one set at 8 pm and another at 11, both being two hours long. Five hundred dollars per set with a radio promotion running on WIOT all day. She would perform the last half hour of the first set and then forty five minutes of the second. Next week they’d play only Saturday because of the Iron Knaves gig. Mickey recommended a band to fill in for any days Piledriver was previously booked. There were a few coming up. The second band would also take Sundays, but only one set for four hundred until they proved themselves.
She was back to make supper, Gable having already mixed and pulled the pasta. The water was nearly ready and so was the grill for making skirt steaks directly on the hot rocks. Fruit chunks tossed over romaine lettuce, garlic bread with coarsely chopped cloves of roasted garlic baked in. Steaks done and cut into portions. Pasta chilled and tossed with Italian salad dressing, green and red peppers and two kinds of cheese. Dinner was on the table half an hour after she got home and she was upstairs getting ready half an hour after that.
Giuseppe was glad to see her. Accustomed to busy Saturday nights, having five hundred people all trying to get in at once was a new experience. He’d already assigned two dinner seatings. Those not wanting to see the band had to be on the family side or be out of the restaurant by 7:30.
“How am I supposed to accommodate so many people?” Giuseppe fretted over the line of people waiting to get in.
“Easy. Fill the room up for the eight o’clock show. Soon as the show is over, everyone out and get the second batch in for the second show. Next week, charge twenty bucks a head just for the band instead of taking our fee out of the food. Split the door with us with a $10 minimum per person food or drink order for the restaurant.”
“Keep talking,” he said when she stopped.
“Well, I would suggest filling the dance floor with tables and having your occupancy adjusted. Another eighty patrons to pay twenty bucks a head plus food and drink minimum.”
“You would sacrifice the dance floor after you and Romey won the contest?” he questioned.
“Absolutely. Gives order to the crowds in front of the stage so they’re not mashed in. A dance floor doesn’t earn money. Tables do.”
“I am liking the way you think, Tyler. You have good business sense.”
“Yes, well, now I have to beg off work next Friday. And the band too. We have a prior commitment. I already have another band to fill in for us, so it’s covered.”
“We?” he repeated.
“Jerome doesn’t know, so please don’t tell him. I sing with Piledriver quite often. I’ll do so here on Saturdays for a few songs each set. I’m billed as Rose.”
“I’ll take thirty percent of the door starting tonight,” he said.
“Leaving seventy percent payable directly to Mickey before they leave at the end of the night,” she put in.
“Agreed.”
They shook hands on the deal and she went to inform Mickey of her negotiations.
“Ei
ght grand twice a night twice a week?” he stared at her.
“I might get eighty percent in a few weeks. I want it to be wildly successful before I nudge.”
He kissed her forehead. “You’re amazing, my girl. Thank you. Come up for your set when we start Dirty Deeds.”
A number of Iron Knaves and Droghers showed up for the second show. Her forty five minutes turned into the full two hours with another half hour beyond.
At 1:30am she left the stage and the concert was over. Civilians filed out, leaving the Knaves and Droghers. Jerome showed up, expecting to take her home.
“Let’s continue our discussion now,” Nails said to her, eyeing Jerome as they gripped hands.
“Dicer, you and Nails both pick ten men,” she said. “Go over to the family side. I’ll be right there. Don’t start without me.”
Both club Presidents pointed and sent their men through the corridor to the already closed and cleaned family side of the restaurant.
“The rest of you go home,” Dicer said to his crew.
Nails nodded the same order to the rest of his, and remained in the doorway with Jerome.
“She’s yours, isn’t she?” he asked.
“Yep.”
Nails stepped closer, eye to eye, and knew which eye to look into. “She is very special to me, Tiberius. If you ever hurt her, I will hurt you.”
“You can have whatever’s left after she drops my ass from ten thousand feet.”
Nails laughed, having known all along that she’d done that. The first time the two men had met was in the hospital after Jerome had lost his eye at the age of fifteen. Nails had introduced him to Chen and kept the boy out of jail with a strict probation agreement and guardianship under the Kung Fu Master.
“It is amazing that she and I have travelled in the same circles but never ran into each other,” Jerome commented, watching her come in with a tray of shot glasses and two bottles of Jack Daniels.
He took the tray from her and started pouring when she asked if he’d fill them up and pass out. Hades watched her but said nothing. She and Jerome had never come face to face because he and Hermes had worked together to prevent it. Several times they almost met, but she had been the blonde and it had been far too early.
She picked up a glass and moved to the center of the area where the men had concentrated. Jerome took the tray around for each man to take a drink.
“I’ve been to a lot of places. In one society, it is tradition for a toast to be spoken at some point during the evening gathering. So…”
She raised her glass high overhead, the full length of her arm. Every arm in the room went up.
“To old friends long dead and new friends just met. For retribution served and glory soon to be earned.”
She drank it down to a chorus of HERE HERE and AMEN! and they drank all at the same time.
“What do you want to know this time?” she asked Nails.
“What day?”
“February 18th, the day after the Welcome supper of the Bikefest,” she replied.
“Do we still have only us?” Dicer asked.
“I don’t know how many men we’ll have,” Jerome said.” The Bikefest is a good an excuse to have a couple dozen other clubs with a couple thousand men staying here all at the same time. I also have it on good authority that there will be an emergency readiness drill happening that day in Monroe, Michigan. If so, then we got trained medical personnel congregated and ready to roll less than half an hour away.”
Heads nodded, appreciating the information.
“What weaponry do you recommend?” Dicer asked.
“Everything nasty you can get your hands on,” she replied without batting an eye. “Foot soldiers are flesh and blood with body armor and not much else for protection. Bullets will do it because they’re used to energy weapons and cannot adapt to simple projectiles. Arrows and darts, crossbows. They’ll all be good. Mechanoids will require armor piercing bullets. Ones that explode would be most helpful. Magnetic concussion grenades would be great.”
“Magnetic concussion grenades?” Tracks scoffed. “Girl, who do you think we are?”
He found himself pressed painfully against the ceiling.
“Okay, no calling my woman ‘girl.’ It makes her cranky,” Jerome said.
“Cranky?” she echoed, looking over her shoulder at him.
“What would you call it?”
“Fuckin’ pissed off at the disrespect.”
“Okay, no calling my woman ‘girl.’ It makes her all pissed off. If you can’t show her respect, you don’t need to be here. This shit’s too important.”
“Agreed,” Nails said. “Please let my man go, Tyler.”
She did. He crashed down to the table and fell off onto the floor with a thump and a groan.
“Next time say ‘put him down.’ You have to be specific,” Jerome said.
“If we are done with the fuckin’ around,” she interrupted. “There must be absolute silence regarding what is coming. You do not talk to anyone. Do not talk in mixed company. The bad man is on a direct path here. He’s not stopping for anything until he gets here. And when he does, it’s going to be Hell on Earth and either we win or we die. It’s for keeps. No time outs. No taksiebacks. No picking up the marbles and going home because home is going to be blown to fuck if we fail. I truly cannot overstate the serious nature of what we are facing. If you’re not man enough for the job, take a trip to Mexico and hope we kill the bad man and his army quickly.”
“The power source this guy wants. Where is it?” Dicer asked.
Jerome held up a palm and produced a sparkling ball of Staff Power. “I have it and I will not be giving it to him. If our government knew about it, they’d want me on a slab for study. So we don’t make friends with Feds.”
“The question has come up,” Dalton began. “Should we expect to be arrested after it’s done? Questioned about what we know?”
“Those who aren’t dead?” Tyler replied. “There will be video footage. We cannot help that. Those identified will be questioned, mostly about the two of us. Masks would be a good thing. No identifying MC colors or badges if you want to keep your anonymity. Personally, I think you’re all big boys and will be proud to say ‘damn right I was there and where the fuck were you?’ So how you deal with questioning and what you choose to wear is your own affair. Just remember it is February. It will be snowing. I suggest goggles for everyone.” She tossed a glance to Jerome. “See you at home.” She ported out.
“Let’s roll.” Two words from Dicer that cleared the place.
Out in the parking lot, Nails hung back to talk with Jerome. Many hands and forearms grasped until they were at their side by side cars. A mat black Torino and a silver falcon.
“Who does she tell you she is?” Nails asked, lighting a joint to share.
“Why? Is she lying to me? You know something I don’t?”
“Just answer me.”
“All she says is that she has to be here to fight Adamantine and this guy on a space station does not want her to be here. All she knows is that she was born and this dude running an intergalactic congress wants her dead and for Earth to be destroyed. You know Thomas Holmes?”
“I do,” Nails admitted. “Rich mother fucker with not enough to do. I called him to keep an eye on her when she ran away to California.”
“You sly dog.”
“I wasn’t going to let my babygirl be unprotected. Is this red head from a future come back?”
“Separate timeline entirely. She jumped from the one she was born in into this one. It’s almost too fantastic to believe, but it’s the truth,” Jerome said. “I can feel it in my bones that every word she says is true. You’re certainly not as skeptical as you might have been. So how much did you know already?”
“Nothing I can tell you about at this point. Please accept that. You gonna be able to to handle this guy? Be straight with me.”
“I have to handle him. I can’t second guess and I canno
t doubt myself. I win or Tyler will take him on herself. I’m not about to let that happen. It’s my fight, not hers.”
“What is her fight in this?” Nails asked.
“Another telepath. He’s in charge of the flying machines. She’s a little too nonchalant about it. Concerns me.”
“She got a death wish?”
“Nah. She worked too hard to be alive. She’s completely discounted Dominion’s ability. Too confident maybe.”
“Tyler too confident? No such thing,” Nails laughed.
“Her detachment worries me too,” Jerome said. “She lets me get physically close. We talk about all kinds of things late at night when neither of us can sleep, which is a lot. But she’s not really letting me in much.”
“Can you blame her? Knowing you all could die?”
“No, I can’t,” Jerome sighed hard.
“Trust me when I say she loves you more than she will admit. I envy you that, my friend.”
“I also see how she looks at Dalton. She does not like him. She does not trust him. Told me so.”
“I know. She warned me. See you around. Give her a good hard one for me,” Nails said.
“I would, but we don’t.”
“Don’t?” Nails said, stopped like it was the strangest thing he’d ever heard.
“She’s a reborn virgin, dude. New lease on life and making different choices.”
Nails chuckled. “No wonder she wouldn’t come home with me. Magnetic concussion grenades, she said?”
“Can you get them?”
“I’ll do some digging and see what I find. You should get home to her.”
“She sleeps in her own room most nights,” Jerome denied.
“I bet you’ll find her in your bed tonight.”
“Why would I?”
“She’s in a bad mood thanks to Tracks. Bad mood sex is fan-fucking-tastic with her. She likes to be subdued,” Nails said.
“Even back then? What, sixteen, seventeen years old?”
“She’s the most obstinate little bitch I ever knew. But work a fist up her ass and she melts like butter. Every time. When she finally accepts a man’s dominance and authority, she doesn’t refuse him anything. Seems that’s you this time around. Lucky fuck.”
