Princess
Page 12
We can drop the majority of our ammo before heading back, so that’s not the issue unless we’re hauling something with us. Regardless, I’m not about to enter Mexico without packing some serious heat. I know a few brothers who’ve come to do a pickup and have wound up in a ditch, never seeing their home soil.
The cartel doesn’t appreciate bikers on their turf who don’t belong in their pockets. I’ve struggled too long to finally break away from pieces of shits like them, to be forced back under someone’s thumb. Any of their minions or twisted pigs come at me, I’m shooting or scalping their asses, fuck the dumb shit.
Bethany plops down on the couch, pulling my phone out from the cushion beside her.
“Oh, my Gawd! I’ve been looking for that all freaking day.” Hurrying toward her she hands it over, and I plug it in right away.
“I was beginning to think you were tied up and duct taped somewhere. Who goes three days without charging their phone?”
Setting it on the bar top, I impatiently wait until I can fire the screen on.
“I told you, Viking had me a little occupied. The phone wasn’t on my radar when he was around.”
“Then you lost it when you came home and ditched your shit all over the apartment like normal, yeah, but you didn’t think to check the couch or behind the throw pillows?”
“You know I never sit on that couch; I checked the chair.” The phone beeps with voicemails and text messages that I’ve missed. Once it’s finished catching up and updating, I pull the notification bar down. “You called and texted me one hundred and fifty-seven times?”
“I told you! Duct tape!”
“You watch way too many movies if your mind automatically thinks that I’m being held against my will.”
“Can you blame me? The last time I heard from you was Thursday when you were off to meet Viking at the bar. That’s the same place where you were attacked and is always full of rebel bikers.”
“Rebel bikers?” Laughing, I glance up to find her glaring.
Suppressing my smile, I try to make peace with my best friend. Who only knows what else was thinking up in that crazy mind of hers. “Okay, okay, I can understand your concern. I would have been as well if it were you.”
“Exactly. Thank you.”
“So what have you been up to then?”
“Well, I may have freaked out and stopped over at your mom’s last night.”
“Are you fucking with me right now?”
“No. I’m sorry! I wanted her to get your dad in case one of his bikers took off with you.”
“Oh my God. I can’t believe this. She’s probably flipping out, calling in old favors.” Scrolling through my missed texts, I scan for her number. She knows I hate talking on the phone a lot so she would have texted first.
“She didn’t answer the door, so I never got to speak to her.”
“Thank God. Never do that again. Unless I’m missing for like a week, then ask if she’s seen me.”
My eyes find one recent message marked ‘Home.’
Home: Hey honey, just checking on my Princess. It’s been too long, please come and visit. I miss you. I’m sorry that Dad answered the phone and upset you. We need to talk. Love you more- Mom
Reading her words, I can’t stop from tearing up; it’s like I can hear her saying them. Damn it. I miss her.
She was my freaking best friend growing up, not just my mom, but my everything. That’s why this mission was so important, and I’ve done absolutely nothing but blow it. I needed to fuck a couple of asshole bikers and rub it into my father just enough that he would back off. I figured he’d be disgusted with me screwing his brothers that he’d leave mom alone for good.
I wonder if he’s still at her house.
It doesn’t matter anymore, at least not really. The mission’s dead and over with. I found Viking, or well, he found me, I suppose. I don’t even hate bikers anymore. This entire time I’ve been blaming them all for my father’s faults. I don’t want my dad hurting her anymore, but maybe Bethany’s right and I need to back off. My mom’s dealt with him for like thirty years or so.
I thought bikers were all bad, but they’re not all selfish like my father. Viking’s brothers seem nice and loyal. At the bar, they made sure I was safe and comfortable when he wasn’t around.
Then yesterday we ate at the picnic table with Spider and Scot. Both guys were polite and funny the entire time. I enjoyed myself to where I was hoping we’d see them again. It was the total opposite of how I’d always thought bikers acted and treated people.
Was my mom lying? No, I can’t go there. Dad seriously hurt her. I remember the days she’d lie in bed all day, face puffy from crying because he hadn’t been home to see her, or he suddenly cut off contact. She never even went on a date with anyone else; I don’t get it how she didn’t eventually move on. The crazy thing is she’s feistier than I am and she lets him treat her like this.
I remember one time we had to go up to my dad’s old club. I think I was like eight years old. Anyhow, some woman kissed my dad in front of my mom. He pushed the lady away, but it didn’t stop my mom. I remember my brother flying out of the car toward them and when I looked over my mom was straddling the woman just wailing on her. Once they were able to pull her off the lady, she slapped my dad in front of his brothers and then cried hysterically the entire drive home.
That time she stayed in her room for four days, only coming out to feed us until she felt better. No, she’s not lying; I remember too much shit that happened. He’s still the fuck up who screwed our family away.
I should call Brently this week. He needs to get the hell out of there and remember why we stayed away from Dad in the first place. I wonder if he’s been to see Mom. That could be why she wants to talk and for me to visit. Dad probably left again, and she’s going through her motions, alone.
“Yoo-hoo?” Bethany calls and I glance up, not paying attention to whatever she’d been saying. “Was the text that bad?”
A tear falls, my fingers swiping it away quickly. “Oh no, not at all. It’s my mom; she wants me to come over.”
“Are you going to?”
“Probably, let me call her really quickly. Do you mind?”
“Of course not; you know I love your mom.”
Backing out of her message, Viking’s name is next.
“Shit,” I mutter with my gaze trained on his message.
“What happened? You haven’t even dialed.”
“No, yeah, I know. I was shitting because Viking had to leave town but doesn’t know when he’ll be back. He thinks a few days.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“Nope, bikers don’t tell you that stuff.”
“What the hell? He could have a wife and kids shacked up somewhere, and you’d never know.”
“No, he doesn’t,” I defend automatically.
“How would you know? Think about it Princess.”
“I have and well…When he was sleeping, I went through his phone and wallet.” When I don’t turn my back to her quick enough, I see her mouth drop open at my confession.
“You’re so sneaky. Does he know? Do you think he’d actually have evidence on him?”
Grabbing an apple from the bowl using up a large portion of the counter, I take a hefty bite, starving with all the extracurricular activities I’ve been doing lately and face her again. “Fuck no, he doesn’t know. He’d probably spank me until I couldn’t sit down or something if he did; besides, this isn’t CSI detective work or anything.”
Her eyes light up at me implying he spanks, and I continue, “And yes, he would have something. I googled his home address. It was some little town in South Carolina. When I google mapped that shit and did a street view, it was an empty lot. It was literally grass and a mailbox.”
“Geez, no wonder your phone died.”
“Well yeah, plus I did reverse lookup on every phone number he had listed, which wasn’t many, like fifteen.”
“The next
boyfriend I get, I’m calling you. How did I not know about this sneaky side of you? The one time we tried going out of your mom’s house at night, you were so freaking noisy, she met us out back with a damn shotgun.”
At that memory, I burst out laughing. Bethany eventually copies me, both of us giggling until my stomach starts to hurt.
“Oh God, I forgot about that! You were so scared I thought you were going to pee!”
“Yeah, pretty sure I did pee a little.”
Laughter overtakes again, remembering her face and shriek when my mom scared the shit out of us, just waiting. It was like she’d already known it was going to happen and wanted to make sure we were so terrified, we’d never try it again. It definitely worked. We didn’t attempt to sneak out from my house again—ever.
Once I’m able to catch my breath again, Bethany excuses herself to go to the bathroom, which ensures a few more chuckles, and then I bite the bullet and dial my mom.
I swear it feels like it rings for five minutes until the line’s finally picked up.
“Yeah?”
Fuck. It’s my dad.
VIKING
Exterminator handed over a nice chunk of cheddar at the border and was able to get us through without an inspection. I’m thankful, but where the hell did he come up with that cash? We haven’t been paid in a while unless someone else gave him some paper up front for this run that’s magically appeared out of thin air.
We ride for a while longer, eventually stopping in a small town called Calle De Norte. I haven’t a clue what it means; I’m not Mexican. I’m gonna guess it’s something North since we’re fairly close to the United States, though.
Ex checks us in, coming out of the office with four room keys. “Bunk together.” He grumbles, handing them out.
Ruger always eager for a job, speaks up, “Are we riding more tomorrow?”
“You saw that Compound we passed resting up on that hill about ten miles back?”
We all nod, paying attention.
“Well get some rest, ‘cause behind that wall is men loaded with heat, not excited to see us.”
He ends his explanation, unlocking his hotel room door. He opens it wide then comes back to roll his bike inside the room with him.
Nightmare shakes his head in Ex’s wake, disappointed most likely because Exterminator’s been cutting him out lately. They’re usually boys and all that, as much as two fuckers who never speak can be anyhow. Now Night’s left out in the cold with us other fuckers when it comes to information it looks like.
A worn out sigh leaves Sinner as he glances at Saint. “Want to lock the bikes up and head down to that bar we passed? We might find us a feisty senorita to share.”
“I want some Mexican snatch and some tequila, but it’ll have to wait ‘til tomorrow. I’m goin’ to rub my cock in the shower and pass out.”
Sinner nods, fist bumping us as him and Saint trek to their room. Realistically they’ll probably end up jacking each other’s cocks off, but whatever floats their fucking boat I suppose.
Spider grins, “Not knocking on the old man, but I’m so glad I don’t have to bunk with Scot tonight. He snores so damn loud and sleeps with his hairy ass hanging out.”
Ruger and I both chuckle used to sharing a room.
“I need something to drink,” Ruger announces, and Spider agrees.
“You two share then, I’m headed in now.”
“Cool.” Ruger nods and I pound Spider’s knuckles, wheeling my bike into my room.
Nice. No sharing tonight. I don’t mind bunking up, but privacy is even better.
Taking a quick, hot shower, I worry about getting the initial layer of road grime off and decide I’ll do a better scrub in the morning. The main thing I’m wanting is sleep. My body is sore, and my ass is chapped from sweating all fucking day long, thanks to Ex’s asshole move making us ride during the hottest part of the day. This run better be worth it with the vague answers and bullshit we’re going through for it.
Lying down on top of the hard, cheap mattress I’m betting is full of shredded cardboard, I power my phone back on. I’ve learned being a Nomad and always on the road to keep it turned off when we’re on a ride. Saves my battery, since I never know when I’ll be able to plug it in.
The first thing that pops up is a message from my Cinderella, sent about four hours ago.
254-200-8699: No worries. I’ll pick up some extra shifts to stay busy. Ride safe, and see you in a week or so. XO –P
Good girl. I can’t help but think as I read it.
She may be Ol’ Lady material after all.
The next morning…
“I got some grub.” Spider walks in as I’m pulling my boots on.
“From where?”
“The front desk told me about a little trailer down the way where you walk up to the window, just like a food truck.” He chuckles, sitting on the opposite, still made-up bed.
“It’s probably ground up cat,” I remark, staring at the brown bag skeptically.
“You guys are so fucked up. First with Saint and Sinner talking about feisty senoritas and tequila and now with you saying these people are cooking cats.”
“Nope, we’re all just telling it like it is. Mexico has good, cheap tequila; of course, they want that shit. I may even take a bottle or two back with me, depending on the haul. They want Mexican snatch because they always want pussy wherever the fuck we go. As far as the food goes, did you see any fucking cats or dogs when we rolled through town?”
He thinks about it and remains quiet, proving my point.
“Exactly, now get your dick out of your ass and chill. You act like we’re trying to fuck your mom or something. We’re bikers, harden the fuck up.”
He’s the newest one to our group. I don’t mind his company, but sometimes you can tell he’s not like the rest of us.
“On the plus side, the food’s only scrambled eggs in a tortilla. I watched them make it all.”
“Thank fuck; I’m starving. How much did you get me?”
Digging through the bag he comes back with four wrapped burritos, they’re thin, so I won’t get full, but it’ll work until later.
“Appreciate it.”
“How’s that app working?” he asks, ignoring my gratitude, like we all do to each other.
“It’s on point. I’ve been tracking her every day she’s not with me.”
“I got an alert from your phone in the middle of the night, Saturday. She was clicking on each of your phone numbers and then I got a notification of her searching the numbers on her own phone’s internet.”
“It’s freaky how you know all that shit. Did you block the internet searches?”
“I redirected them to random places you’d use, like a bike shop, a few Oath Keepers main club house numbers—that sort of thing.”
“Good. I don’t need her finding out my mom’s info, thinking she’ll be Suzy Homemaker and give her a call or something.” I especially don’t want her calling any of my old contacts. They’re drug dealers and killers, not the type of people I want to know her name, even if they are friendlies.
“Nothing to worry about, you know I have your back.”
Nightmare enters the room, not knocking as well. We’re used to being in each other’s space. “Ex is ready.”
“Ex? You want to fill us in?” I ask and Nightmare sighs.
“No clue. I know as much shit as you. He’s shut me out. Whatever this is, it’s important to him.”
“That’s all I needed to know.”
Spider wads up his trash, tossing it in the miniature bin and makes his way outside.
Nightmare turns to me, “He good?”
“Yeah, he’s fine, starting to adjust.”
“Bet. He’s too smart with numbers and computers not to have him with us.” His voice grows quiet as he finishes, “I figured out that’s how Ex got money to pass through the border; he had Spider transfer rich fucks cash into a fake account.”
“Serious?”
Nodding, I stand and roll my bike back outside, next to my brothers. We wait on Ex for a few minutes; eventually, he walks out as well pushing his bike and coming to stand with us.
“Here’s the deal.” He gazes over each of us. “This isn’t a regular run. We’re not here on drugs. Well, we are, but only if we find some, do we bring it back.”
Sinner cocks his head to the side. “Then why we wasting our time?”
“We’re not.” Exterminator meets his stare. “We were hired by an undercover cop—a very rich cop—who’s tied to the Russian Mafia. He’s been searching for one woman in particular over the past months and got wind she was in that Compound we passed yesterday. He’s paying us a fuck ton of money to obtain her.”
Nightmare interrupts, “So you didn’t have Spider steal money from a bank? Why didn’t you tell us about this sooner?”
Spider coughs when he hears Night’s conclusion and Ex growls angrily, “Fuck no, how well do you know me?”
Night cocks his eyebrow, and if either one’s temper raises a notch, we’re liable to be pulling them apart, or one would be setting the other on fire. They both have a fire and dumpster fetish.
“I didn’t say anything sooner because the cop swears these people hear everything. He thinks that once he gets close to finding her, that whoever is keeping her moves her again.”
“So we could be heading into a shit storm and not even come out with this bitch?” I mumble.
“Yeah, but we get paid either way.”
And everything’s right in the world for me again, knowing this is a paid job. Just wish he would have given us a heads-up sooner, especially communicating with a fucking cop. He better be careful. If one of the brothers thinks he’s turned snitch, he’ll never keep his spot in the club. He’ll probably be strung up somewhere with a cord wrapped around his throat. We don’t expend our skills on snitches; we just snuff them out as soon as possible to get them removed from the equation.
“We’ll leave here and enter from the southeast corner. Satellite shows the least amount of guards and people in that area at all times. I have a general description of the female, but no one’s seen her since she was a girl I guess. She’s supposed to be a tall Russian woman, thin and she used to be blonde. They don’t know if her hair will be changed, what language she’ll speak, nothing. She’ll most likely be one of the servants or maids. Let me know if you see one that looks Russian.”