by Sarah Sorana
“Where’s Lupe?” Megan asked.
Catalina’s features softened, just a little.
“She’s in the cabin. When all this - “ the pretty Hispanic girl waved her hand - “ started, I told her to lock herself in and hide.”
Jackson nodded. “She’s a smart little girl. She won’t come out for anyone but Catalina, here.”
They all winced as Bill landed a solid blow on Merle.
“What happens if Merle loses?” Megan asked, her voice small.
Jackson shrugged. “He won’t. Not against those two. They’re big, so they’ve never learned to fight. They’re used to winning with the first punch.”
Megan saw what he meant. Merle was tall, and strong, but he had a lean grace, not like those two slabs of muscle.
“What do you think he’ll do?” Jackson asked. The question seemed to be directed at Alex, but the long-haired man’s eyes were fixed on the fight before them.
Alex snorted and raised a precise eyebrow.
Jackson sighed. “I’ll get things started.”
He released Catalina. “Be good, Princess,” he told her, and winked, before walking away.
“Asshole,” Catalina muttered, rubbing her arm where Jackson had held onto her as he marched her over to stand out of the way of the fight. “Better not think he gets to fuck me just because he helped my sister. He’s not the boss of me.”
She was looking at the ground, but her words seemed to be directed at Alex. They were almost a question.
“If he does, it will be a miracle. I’ve never seen that man get it up for a woman, even one as pretty as you.”
The girl, who did look gorgeous even with her hair a mess and her makeup smeared from trying to fight Bill herself, laughed.
“What? Is he some kind of maricon, or just can’t get hard?”
“He has no equipment problems, I can assure you,” Alex said. “He simply has no interest in women.”
Before either Catalina or Megan could say anything, Jackson was back.
“It’ll be ready,” he said. “Fight’s almost over. He’s just toying with them now.”
Megan frowned at the scene. She couldn’t see what the man meant - there was nothing that looked like a game that she could see. Merle was taking punch after punch. One knocked him to the ground, and she gasped, but he was on his feet again before Alex could rest a comforting hand on her arm.
“He’ll be okay,” Alex said. “You might want to go stay with Lupe for this next part, though.”
“Why?” she asked.
Jackson spoke up. “He’ll be kicking them out. I’ve set a couple of old pieces of rebar in the fire. It’s going to get ugly.”
“What do you mean?”
The long-haired man took off his leather jacket, handed it to Alex, and pulled up the sleeve of his t-shirt.
“Don’t mind me,” Alex said, his voice dry and quiet. “I’ll just stand here holding this for you. I’m a human coatrack.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Jackson said, and flashed him a grin.
There was no humor on his face when he looked back at Megan.
“See my ink?” he asked.
She nodded. It was the same design as on the leather jackets or vests that the men around them were wearing.
“You can only wear our ink if you’re part of the club,” he said. “Merle’s kicking them out.”
Megan stared at him.
“You’re going to tattoo over their tattoos?” she asked.
Jackson snorted.
“Some clubs used to skin them off,” he said. “Even full-back riders. We’re a little more civilized than that… but only a little. We put a brand on them, right through the design.”
He traced a line through the tattoo, at an angle.
“Just like that. At least half an inch thick. Makes sure no one can possibly think they’re still in good with us.”
Megan swallowed.
“Merle will do that?” she asked.
Jackson shrugged. “Might have me do one, but, yeah. Merle’ll brand’m.”
The bile rose in her throat.
“I think… I think I’ll stay,” she said.
The men shrugged, and Catalina unconsciously copied them.
Jackson fished an elastic band out of one of the many pockets in his jacket. “Here,” he said, thrusting it at Megan. “I won’t be around to hold your hair if you puke, and Alex is too fuckin’ prissy to do it.”
Megan took the hair tie and absentmindedly started to braid her hair, securing the end of it and looking at Alex.
“He’s still out of sorts because he got sloppy drunk a few nights ago and I dumped him in the shower and went to bed,” Alex explained. His cultured tones were light and casual, but his eyes were hard as he stared at Merle, standing over Bill and the other man.
“Are you getting up, or giving up?” Merle asked. His voice was loud enough to drift back over to where the small group was standing, and they fell silent.
Neither of the men on the ground said anything.
“Giving up,” Merle said, his voice full of disgust. “Bill, Warren, you’re out. Fuck you both.”
Jackson drifted off. Megan noticed that, for all his pretentions of delicacy, Alex shifted his weight and stood firm, eyeing the men closest to him and sizing them up.
“Listen to me,” Merle said, loudly.
No one spoke. Megan had no doubt that every man, every person there was staring at Merle, straining to hear what he said.
She felt a sudden thrill of pride - this man, this powerful leader, he wanted her. She tingled at the thought of his powerful arms wrapped around her.
Merle didn’t repeat himself, but he let the silence stretch on for a few endless seconds.
“We are not rapists. We are not child-fuckers. You smack around a woman, unless she hits you first, you’re in deep shit with me. You touch a little girl, like Bill tried to? You’re out of the fucking club, if you’re lucky. If you’re not, I’ll kill you.”
He spoke simply.
“Any man who disagrees, who wants to challenge my authority - fuckin’ fight me. Do it now.”
No one moved.
Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths, staring at the strong young man, panting in the harsh light, bleeding from a cut over his eye.
“Aw, hell,” someone finally said, loudly. “Merle may be bossy, but he’s telling you motherfuckers not to diddle kids. He’s not saying you can’t smoke crack and ruin your own fucking lives, just try not to ruin a kid’s life. Don’t get fucking bent out of shape about it.”
Alex grinned. “Tom’s always good for the short version,” he said.
Megan saw relief in his eyes. She realized that Alex, Merle, and Jackson were all in their twenties. Bill was at least in his forties, and most of the men who had stood with him, tough as they were, had grey in their hair.
Before she could ask Alex about anything, Jackson walked back into the loose circle. He carried two long sticks of rebar, their ends glowing orange and ominous in the shadows.
“Want me to take care of it, boss?” Jackson drawled.
Merle shook his head and held out one hand. He pressed Bill into the dirt with his boot as he waited for another man to rip his shirt off. When the tattoo was visible, Merle placed the end of the rebar against the other man’s flesh, pressing it firmly as he screamed.
He repeated the process for the other man getting kicked out of the club.
Megan thought that she’d be hearing those screams in her sleep for a while, and was grateful that she wasn’t any closer. She didn’t want to hear the branding, or, worse, smell it.
Merle stepped back.
“Make sure they don’t carry a shred of our stuff out with them,” he said. “And, assholes? I see you back in this town, no one will find your bodies.”
The biker spat on the ground before turning away from the two men who had once been a part of his gang and walked towards the small group waiting for him.
“That was stupid,” Catal
ina said. “Why didn’t you kill them?”
Merle looked at her, saying nothing.
“That’s what Jefe would have done,” she said, and shrugged.
“I’m not Jefe,” he said, flatly. “And the laws are tighter here.”
She shrugged again. “Jefe says letting an enemy walk away means you’ll just have to kill him later, why waste time letting them breathe? Those men are your enemies now.”
The gang leader shrugged. “If I’d killed them right out like that, I’d have had to kill about a quarter of the gang. Not worth it. Just leads to more bloodshed.”
Catalina shrugged, but her strange, bitter smile made Megan think that the other girl disagreed with the man’s assessment.
The Hispanic girl quickly vanished from Megan's mind as Merle said "Come on, let's get out of here."
"Want me to stay back and keep an eye on things?" Jackson asked.
"Frank's got it," Merle said.
Megan looked over. "Which one is Frank?"
"The big guy," Jackson said.
There were a lot of large men in the gang, but one man seemed to loom even in that crowd. He stood over the branded men, arms crossed.
"My brothers," Megan thought she heard him say, "You are suffering from the sin of foolishness."
Megan did a little double-take.
Jackson grinned.
"Yeah, that's Frank," he said. "All religion, all the time."
"The minor detail, of course," Alex murmured, "Is that no one is quite sure which religion the good man espouses."
Megan shrugged. She had no clue what to say to that. Besides, she didn’t really care. All she really wanted to do was throw her arms around Merle and bury her face in his warmth and scent.
She looked at him, though, and she hesitated.
Did she really want to embrace a man who had just branded two men? Even though it was a warm night, she shivered.
“Are you all right?” Merle asked her, placing a hand on her shoulder and looking at her, concern shining from his black eyes.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m fine. Are you… okay?” she finished lamely.
He shrugged.
“Come on,” he said, jerking his head towards the little cabin Catalina shared with her sister. “Let’s go check on Lupe.”
Megan noticed on the short walk that Jackson and Alex placed themselves where they could see the rest of the group. Even though they were chatting vaguely about their plans for the next weekend, she felt that there was something odd about what they were doing.
As an experiment, she slowed down a little and tried to trail after the party.
Jackson matched her pace, staying a few steps behind her.
Bodyguards, she realized.
On the heels of that thought came another… were they protecting her, or keeping her from leaving?
She stopped dead.
Jackson stopped with her and waited as Alex followed Catalina and Merle - now that Bill seemed dealt with, at least for now, the other girl was intent on seeing her sister.
Megan waited for Jackson to say something, order her to follow the others, put a hand on her.
He did nothing.
He simply waited, at his ease.
She turned and headed back towards the parking lot.
The lean man didn’t try to stop her, he simply walked with her. When she sped up, his long legs easily let him match her pace.
She stopped dead again and let the long moments stretch awkwardly.
“What are you doing?” she demanded. Too late, she realized that speaking in that rude, gruff, bossy tone of voice to a man like Jackson might be a terrible idea - but he only grinned at her.
“You’re not an idiot,” he said, voice pleasant and calm. “You saw that there are a lot of angry men around here. Merle hasn’t been in charge very long. Everyone knows he’s sweet on you. One of Bill’s friends might not care about being kicked out of the gang, might just figure that he can get revenge for Bill by hurting you.”
Megan didn’t say anything, but she swallowed, and looked away.
Jackson waited for her to speak again, and then added, his voice quiet, “No one’s keeping you here, Megan.”
She glared.
“Did Merle tell you to follow me around?” she asked.
“He didn’t have to,” Jackson said. “He knows Alex and I have his back. Right now, that means having your back, too.”
Megan nodded, slowly, and yawned. It had been a long, miserable day.
“Now, are you going to pitch a hissy fit and lead me all around the place, or are you going to tell me where you actually wanna go?” Jackson asked.
She blushed a little.
“Where is Merle going to be?” she asked.
“If all goes well, he’ll probably be back at his cabin. If it doesn’t…” Jackson hesitated. “If it doesn’t, I should probably get you and the other girls the hell out of here.”
“Catalina and Lupe?” Megan asked.
Jackson nodded.
“Are there only men here?” Megan asked.
He shook his head.
“Almost as many women live here as men, but they can’t be full patched members, so they steer clear of… stuff like tonight. A few others probably watched from as far as you and Catalina were, but it was hard to see them.”
“Why would they want to stay here, with men like Bill?” Megan asked.
Jackson made an after-you guesture, and they started to stroll as they spoke.
“You think if Bill was getting laid regularly, he’d have risked pissing Merle off by going after Lupe?” Jackson asked. He shook his head again. “Nah, people know better than to fuck with a woman around here. If they don’t scratch your eyes out, the rest of the gang will kick your ass.”
“I’d heard,” Megan began, and blushed. “I’d heard that women in biker gangs, like, had sex with every member.”
He laughed.
“Shit, this isn’t the seventies. I mean, I’m not saying that it’s never, ever, ever happened anywhere, but this isn’t a TV show. We’re really not that interesting. About as many of us are married, or at least pretty paired up, as any other fifty people you’d find on the street.”
“Not that interesting?” Megan asked.
“Nope.”
“So, selling heroin, that’s not interesting? Totally boring?” Megan asked.
Jackson’s mouth twisted, but it wasn’t exactly a smile.
“Pretty boring,” he said. “It’s even more boring if you get caught.”
When he saw her brow knit in confusion, he added, “Pretty much nowhere is as dull as prison. Not much to do but read the same five books and scratch your ass.”
Megan opened her mouth to ask if he’d been to prison, but something about his eyes warned her not to push her luck.
“Anyways, here you are, my lady,” he said, with a touch of silly drama, as he banged on the door of Merle’s cabin.
“Special delivery,” he yelled. “One mouthy girl. Good luck.”
Merle opened the door and glared at Jackson.
“Not half as mouthy as Alex,” he said. “Get your ass outta here.”
Jackson grinned and turned away, flipping Merle off casually over his shoulder as he headed off.
“That motherfucker needs to watch his damn mouth,” Merle grumbled. He stepped back to let Megan in, and shut and locked the door behind her.
Her eyes widened and she took a step back from the him.
“Easy,” he said. He took the key out of the lock and handed it to her. “I’m not locking you in, okay? I’m locking other people out. “
Megan reached out and took the key, the metal still cold.
She put it in the lock and turned it, opening the door, feeling the evening’s breeze on her face.
Merle didn’t move.
She shut and locked the door again, and slipped the key into her pocket.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to Merle.
“Thank you,
” she said, simply.
“What are we going to do with you tonight?” he asked. “Your parents will blow a fucking gasket if you don’t come home.”
“I don’t care,” she said. She did feel a small twinge of guilt.
