by Nella Tyler
Once I arrive at Black’s Deli, I park my bike out front in the bike lane and walk around to the back. I check around for any other bikes that could belong to any of the Deathdealers. I see one bike out back and guess that it probably belongs to Red.
I walk back to the front and inside the place. Inside, a giant red-haired man sits at a table by himself. He waves me over and I pace myself as I make my way to him.
“If this is a trap, I’ll fuck you up,” I tell him.
“Relax, it’s not a trap,” he says.
“Alright,” I say as I take the seat opposite Red. He appears furry and unkempt, but I don’t question his grooming habits. Instead, we get right down to business.
“So, what’s going on?” I ask.
“The Deathdealers have been thrown into disarray ever since your father was put in prison,” he says.
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, it’s insane. Some of the criminals in the club are trying to establish their dominance in the club, but they end up fighting each other. One guy got stabbed last week.”
“Okay. I’m still not sure why you’re telling me all of this,” I say.
“Needless to say, while there are some people who are happy to see your father in prison, there are others that don’t feel the same way. It’s a sort of civil unrest, if you will.”
“Alright.”
“We need some sort of leadership,” he says.
“I don’t understand.”
“We need someone that everyone will follow.”
“Then hold an election like the rest of us,” I instruct him.
“The senior members all said that they would listen to the son of Seth Vinton,” he tells me.
“Yeah, but my father and I aren’t the same person. We’re not even close.”
“They don’t care about that. They claim loyalty to you solely based on the fact that you’re Seth Vinton’s kin.”
“What a mess,” I tell him.
“Yeah, but you can see now why we need you.”
“I’m not getting involved in that shit,” I say without hesitation.
“You should give it some thought.”
“I don’t want any part of the criminal behavior that goes down in the Deathdealers. I thought you knew that.”
“Those guys would follow you to the moon and back,” he says.
“Ever since I first laid eyes on that club, I didn’t want any part of it. Guess what? I still don’t. It was trouble, but my father forced me to become a member against my will. Still, I was always looking for a way out.”
“Now you can shape it to be anything you want it to be,” Red tells me. “I’m not the only one that wants you on the inside.”
“I just don’t see it happening, Red, sorry,” I tell him as I move to get up from the table.
“Please sit, there’s just one more thing,” he remarks.
“Yeah?”
“If we can’t get under your leadership, do you at least think that the Dragons would be willing to call a truce with us?”
“I can’t really speak for them, but I can bring your question to the attention of the president,” I say.
“I just don’t want our rival clubs to have a war because of what your father did to the Fitzgerald family.”
“I can talk to Ronan and let you know what he says.”
He smiles and extends his hand forward. I take it in mine and shake it. He looks happy at our little chat and leaves promptly.
I hop back onto my bike once again scanning the area for any threats. Once I satisfy my curiosity about anyone helping Red, I peel out of Hinton Heights and head back to the Lair.
“Is Ronan here?” I ask in the club to no one in particular.
“He’s on the mission to pick Sasha up from school, but we don’t know how long that’s gonna last,” Jasmine tells me with a suspicious look on her face.
She grins widely and I ask, “Why do you say that?”
“Well you know how Mrs. Fitzgerald feels about Missy, don’t you?”
I nod to say yes and she says, “It’s probably going to be a temporary situation if she ever catches wind of this. The last time I talked to Ronnie, she told him how much she wanted to run Missy over with her car.”
“Should I talk to Trish about changing things up with the schedule?” I ask.
“Yeah, that might prove to be a fantastic idea,” she assures me. “Beer?”
“Sure, why not?”
She slides a beer my way and I crack it open to take a long cool drink. Trish walks in the door and Jasmine slides a beer in front of her.
“Thanks,” Trish tells her.
“What’s up baby doll?” I ask Trish.
She looks up at me brightly and says, “I was just going to ask you the same thing.”
“I got this strange call yesterday. It was Harry from the Deathdealers, but I’m not even sure how he got my number.”
“Yeah? What did he want?” she asks.
“You’re not gonna believe this, but he said that the remaining members of the club all talked and they want me to run the show over there.”
She backs away slightly and asks, “What did you tell him?”
“I told him that I didn’t want to get involved.”
“Did he push the issue?”
“Not really, aside from trying to plead his case. Trust me, it all fell on deaf ears.”
“Is that it?” she asks.
“No, he also asked if we could all call a truce,” I tell her. “He said that there’s been a lot of serious fighting in the club recently. One guy got stabbed.”
“He wants a truce after what they’ve done?” she says with anger building up in her throat.
“It wasn’t them, that was all my father’s doing. Aside from that, I told him that I couldn’t make any decisions on behalf of the Dragons. I said that the only thing I could do was to offer his terms to our president and let him know what he says.”
“You know what I would do?” she asks rhetorically. “I’d go back to him and tell him that under no circumstances could we even consider a truce with them if they don’t clean house first.”
“That’s a great idea. I’m not sure that your dad will go for it, but if Harry and whoever is with him can get rid of the criminal element in the club, it would be worth looking into a truce.”
“Just setup another meeting. I’ll go with you next time to check him out.”
“You got it, babe. Oh and there’s one more thing,” I tell her.
“Yeah?”
“It has come to my attention that your dad is on the list to take Sasha back and forth to school today. Is your mother aware of that?”
Jasmine is lending us her ears even though she tries to play it off like she’s not listening.
“Oh, shit. My mother would have a conniption fit if she knew about this,” she says. “I need to fix this as soon as my dad gets back.”
“Yeah, I was sure you didn’t want any problems between your mom and Missy.”
“My mom would probably clobber Missy, without a doubt,” she tells me.
“Therein lies the problem,” I joke. I look over to Jasmine and she offers me a wink.
“I’m gonna step outside where I can talk to Harry,” I tell her. “You can come if you want to, it’s just too noisy in here for a call.”
She follows me outside as I dial the number.
“Red?” I ask into the phone.
“Yeah?”
“It’s me, Rodney Vinton.”
“Hey Rod, have you reconsidered our offer?”
“No thank you. I’m just calling to set up another meeting so we can discuss any possibility of the truce that you mentioned.”
“How about next Tuesday at two, same place?” he offers.
“Yeah, sounds good. My girlfriend wants to come along, too,” I tell him.
“No problem, I’ll see you then,” he says and I hang up the call.
“What did he say?” Trish asks me.
<
br /> “He said that we could meet up at the same place, next Tuesday at two,” I tell her.
“Alright, I’ll be ready.”
Ronan rides up on his hog and parks it in the front of Dragon’s Lair. He barges inside and gets himself a beer and then heads for his office.
“You should probably wait to talk to him, he doesn’t look like he’s in that good of a mood,” I tell her. “Tread carefully.”
“I can handle my dad,” she tells me in response.
She walks off to his office, knocks and closes the door behind herself. While she’s inside, I begin texting her about how badly I want to see her naked. I am relentless with my messages, hoping that it will lighten her mood while she talks to her domineering father.
Fifteen minutes pass and she exits his office, shutting the door behind herself.
“What happened?” I ask trying not to bust out into laughter.
“I was really distracted there, thank you very much!” she chides me.
“Did you talk to him?”
“Yeah, he said that I’ve got a point and to take him off of the schedule before my mother finds out.”
“Good good, I don’t think anyone wants to see your mother beating the shit out of Missy, no matter how amusing it sounds.”
She gives me a half laugh as it appears that she’s considering the thought.
Before Monday arrives, I already deal with two calls from my father’s attorney. He desperately tries to get me to come to the dark side, but I vow to stay on the side of the law. I continually ask Mr. Greenleaf to cease and desist with the calls, but he relents.
Tuesday is here and I ready Trish for our meeting with Red.
“He’s a pretty harmless dude,” I tell her. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Good,” she says in response.
“Let’s hit it,” I tell her.
We walk out to our bikes and get on them, revving them up for effect.
“You’re going to have to lead the way, I have no idea where this place is,” she tells me.
“Follow me,” I tell her as I put my helmet on.
We zip out onto the dirt roads and through the winding streets to the paved roads. We reach the Hinton Heights sign and make a few turns before we arrive at Black’s Deli.
We park behind the place and I notice the same familiar bike parked out back. We enter the place and Trish is on guard as she’s unsure of what to expect.
“He’s over there, the big guy with the flaming red hair,” I whisper to her before we walk over to him.
“Let’s do this,” she says.
We walk over to Red’s table and sit on the opposite side as him. He puts his menu down and looks at the both of us.
“This is my girlfriend, Trish,” I tell him. To her I say, “Sweetheart, this is Red, also known as Harry Fletcher.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Harry tells her accompanied by a smile. In my head, I knock his glasses off of his face for the flirtation.
“So, let’s get down to business. Trish and I were talking about what you said and she made a lot of sense.”
“What did Trish say?” he asks me as if she’s not sitting here with us.
She pipes up, “I said that it wouldn’t make any sense for us to consider a truce with you guys while you’re going through what you called ‘civil unrest.’ Rodney tells me that there was a stabbing?”
“Two of the older members got into it and one of them stabbed the other,” he states nonchalantly.
“It only makes sense for your club to address the matter beforehand so you can come back to the table as a united front,” I tell him. Trish nods in agreement.
“I guess that does make a lot of sense,” he says with a glimmer of a smile he dedicates to Trish.
“We just don’t want any trouble down the line,” Trish offers.
“Makes perfect sense.”
“We can certainly revisit the issue when the time comes,” I offer. “Just know that nothing’s on the table as long as there is criminal behavior in the club.”
“Understood,” he says. “A lot of the club’s older members are under investigation because of the police attention. Your father’s inner circle is all but gone at this point. They’ve either run for the hills or are staring at their own sentences in jail.”
“Is that right?” I ask.
“Yeah. I guess they’re only loyal to a fault,” he tells us. “It’s good, though. It helps us weed out the bad seeds.”
“Alright, well, we look forward to hearing from you again, Red.”
“It was great meeting you, Trish, and we’ll be in touch,” he tells us.
We part ways as Trish and I walk to the back of the deli to get on our bikes. Before she places her helmet on her head, she asks, “Where to?”
“We should probably head back to the Lair and talk to your dad about this,” I tell her.
“You’re right, let’s go,” she says putting her helmet on and taking off.
We speed off from Black’s Deli to the Dragon’s Lair where I can already see Ronan’s customized motorcycle out front.
We go inside and immediately find Ronan standing at the bar getting another beer.
“Ronan, we need to talk,” I tell him.
“In my office,” he directs us.
Trish and I follow him to his office and she shuts the door behind us once we’re inside.
“What’s this about?” he asks us.
“Last week I was contacted by a guy named Red. He’s part of what’s left of the Deathdealers.”
Ronan’s face reddens at the sound.
“What did he want?” he asks.
“At first, he said that the club is in a disarray and asked me to come and be their leader,” I tell him.
“They wanted you to be their president?” he asks in disbelief.
“Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either,” I tell him.
“What happened next?”
“I told him that I don’t want to get involved. He then suggested a truce.”
“Yeah? What did you tell him?”
“I said that we should discuss it with our president first because I don’t make decisions for the club,” I tell him.
“Yeah?”
“Trish said that he should clean house in his club before we would even think about it. They’ve got a lot of criminal activity still going down.”
“That’s smart. She’s right. We don’t want any hooligans in our club,” he tells us.
“I totally understand that. So we’re waiting to hear back from him again,” I tell him.
“I don’t like us being anywhere near the Deathdealers, but if this guy is on the up and up, then we would consider forging a truce without their criminal elements.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Trish interjects as if she was waiting all day to speak.
“Good, glad we got this all cleared up,” Ronan tells us.
He shakes my hand and shakes Trish’s as we get up to leave his office.
The night turns into daylight and I pick up a newspaper to get a beat on any current events. I’m struck by the headlines of the day. One says: “Trial of the Century involving Samson, Vinton, Cardov & Clayton to begin in TWO WEEKS”. I yawn at the sensationalism of the headline, but secretly feel the need to frame it.
In the accompanying article, Lester Samson is called out for his previous criminal misdeeds. A judge in an older case has come forward to talk to the paper about being on the receiving end of threats by Seth Vinton to cover up Lester’s bad deeds. The judge issues an apology to the Fitzgerald family for not coming forward sooner. I beam as I read through the piece and wonder aloud about who has the kind of balls it would take to threaten a judge.
Chapter Fifteen
Rodney Vinton
Two weeks isn’t a long wait, I think as I sit the newspaper down on the table in front of me. I remember the night vividly, standing in a sea of red and blue lights swarming Boris’ house. Trish and I came to her sister’s res
cue and the reward was in and of itself.
My phone rings; it’s the familiar number of my father’s attorney. I promptly hit ‘ignore’ and feel a twinge of satisfaction.
I dial up Trish’s number, eager to learn of her plans for the day.
“Hello?” she asks from the other end.
“Hey babe,” I tell her. “Just wondering what you’re up to today.”
“I’m just hanging out with Sasha. She’s really worried about the trial. She’s convinced that she will say something wrong.”
“Can I talk to her? It might help to hear from someone who’s not actually family,” I tell her.
“Yeah, sure. It couldn’t hurt,” she says.
After a moment passes, I hear the sound of Sasha’s breath on the other end of the phone.
“Hey, Sasha?” I ask.
“Hi, Rodney. Trish told me you wanted to talk to me?” she asks curiously.
“Yeah,sweetie, Trish told me that you’re having a problem with the trial?”
“Yeah, I just don’t wanna say the wrong thing,” she tells me.
“You are going to do just fine,” I say matter-of-factly. “I have no doubt that you will tell them everything they want to know so that those bad guys don’t hurt anyone else.”
“You really think so?” she asks with this tone of pure innocence.
“I know so, Sasha. All you have to do is tell the court people what you told Trish, me and the cops. If you’re worried about how many people will be there, pretend that you’re just talking to me. You’re going to do great, I promise.”
“Will that work? Pretending to just talk to you?”
“It always does, I know it.”
“Alright,” she says sweetly. “I’ll just look to you when I get scared.”
“That sounds like a great idea, kiddo,” I tell her.
“Thanks, Rodney, I’ll get Trish back for you,” she says, leaving me hanging in silence.
“I don’t know what you said to her, but whatever it was, it made her smile,” Trish tells me.
“I just told her not to worry and that she can pretend I’m the only one in the room, if it helps.”
“Pretty smart,” she says.
“I try,” I say with a twinge of sarcasm.
“I’m gonna head up to the club in a few minutes, want to join me?” she inquires.
