The Devil Don't Sleep

by Janine Infante Bosco

  “The garage has served its purpose as an acting clubhouse but lets be honest, we all know it’s taking away from business. Wolf can show you the ledger—”

  “Wolf ain’t here to show shit,” Jack interrupts, running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “He turned in his patch.”

  “Looks like you started a trend, man,” Stryker mumbles, elbowing Pipe.

  “What do you mean Wolf turned in his patch?” Pipe roars, setting his elbows on top of the table as he leans forward.

  “Of all people, I have to explain that to you?” Jack retorts. “Apparently, having his son shot and getting doused in gasoline by a man he considered his brother was too much for him,” he reveals. “He wants out and I can’t say I blame him.”

  “Whoa,” Blackie says, placing the phone on the table.

  “Hey,” Riggs calls.

  “Nico getting shot was not the clubs fault. As for the gasoline thing, he knows how you operate. He knows your head and still, he kept shit from you…from all of us.”

  “That’s irrelevant,” Jack argues.

  “The fuck it is,” Blackie hisses, turning to Linc. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-eight,” Linc replies.

  “He’s known Cain had a son for twenty-eight years, Parrish,” Blackie says, turning back to Jack. “Never once did he give any of us any inclination of that.”

  “What would that have changed?” Jack counters.

  “Who knows, maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything but, maybe, we could’ve put together Yankovich’s motive sooner had we known.”

  “Wolf didn’t know about Cain and Yankovich until a couple of days before it all imploded,” Jack argues.

  “You know that for a fact?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “What the fuck is this Blackie?” Jack shouts.

  “As the man who is first to put himself in front of a bullet for you and the man who leads in your absence, I’m asking you how you know that?”

  “You still take your orders from me, Black.”

  “Answer the question, Jack,” Pipe interjects.

  “He says he didn’t know and I fucking believe him,” Jack growls, slamming his hand against the table. “Do I need to remind all you motherfuckers what that man has done for this club? Yeah, he should’ve told us about Linc and he probably should’ve told us sooner about Cain’s connection to Yankovich but, for nearly thirty years that man has devoted his life to this family. Yeah, I said family,” he affirms, leaning over the table. “And you know why I said it? Because that’s exactly what that motherfucker made this club. Now, I dare any of you to tell me otherwise.”

  “I know I’m the last person who should speak right now but, our president is right. Wolf has gone out of his way for everyone sitting at this table. For some, like me, he’s gone above and beyond personally. For others, for everyone with a bottom rocker, he’s done everything to keep this club above water. None of us would be sitting here if he didn’t have faith in the values this club holds,” Linc says.

  “Fact,” Deuce agrees.

  “He’ll be back,” Pipe says, leaning back against his chair as he pins his eyes to Jacks. “Take it from me, this club is embedded in his soul. He needs to ride like he needs to breathe but right now, he needs a break. He needs to find—”

  “He needs to find his fucking heart is what he needs,” Jack interrupts. Lifting a finger, he points to every man at the table, including me. “You all think I’m fucking crazy when I tell you to find yours but those of you who found it, know I’m fucking right. There needs to be a balance and there needs to be something in your life that reigns over the patch. Something that makes life worth living and this ain’t it.”

  “Preach, brother, preach,” Pipe says.

  “Oh, God, why’d you do that?” Riggs says. “He’s going to make us go to church again, and I gotta tell you, I’m not big on the taste of communion wafers.”

  “For fucks sake, someone get this kid off my phone,” Jack mumbles, pushing the phone away.

  “The sooner you let me finish, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “Just say what you got to say,” Blackie tells him.

  “As I was saying, the garage needs to go back to making us money. Our workload with the bus company has doubled since Atlantic Express joined with Camilla Tours. Our contract doesn’t only service New York anymore but Jersey and Pennsylvania as well.”

  “Kids got a point,” Pipe agrees.

  “I bought a bar,” Riggs reveals. “I’ve been renovating it on the down low and it’s ready to go. There is a massive back room we can use for a chapel and two apartments upstairs that I opened up and converted into individual bedrooms. Bas can finally get out of the projects and Needles, I even made a room for your daughter. The bar will be extra income for the club and help us get out of the red.”

  My eyes slice to Jack as he grips the edge of the table and bites the inside of his cheek. The man is either on the verge of a breakdown or he’s plotting Riggs’ death.

  “Before you tell me to go fuck myself, you should probably know I already hired my mother-in-law as the head cook and she’ll have your balls on a platter if you take away her job.”

  “You did this on your own?” Blackie questions.

  “If you’re asking if I laid out the money, yes. I’ve got more than I know what to do with, Black and the club can pay me back after we’re back on our feet.”

  “Well, that explains the restaurant tables,” Cobra says, knocking his knuckles against the grain.

  “It’ll be another legit business for the club and with our cop friend in the dirt, it’ll keep the pigs off our backs. It’s time to bring back the clubhouse parties, man. I’m not saying we fill the joint with hookers and shit but, we used to celebrate when we patched someone in. What do our prospects have to look forward to? Free pickings on Wolf's tomato plants?”

  “If we dig up that fucking garden we’ll have more room on the lot for the buses,” Pipe says, pointing to the parking lot behind me where Wolf put a vegetable garden.

  “Where is this bar?” Jack growls.

  “Well, that’s the only problem…”

  “Riggs so help me God—”

  “It’s in Staten Island but before you blow your top, hear me out—everyone from Brooklyn migrates to the island anyway. No one is going to care if our rockers read one borough and we congregate in another. Besides, Blackie already lives in Staten Island, Pipe and Layla just closed on a house there too. The rest of us will have to get an EZ Pass.”

  “I’m going to kill this fucking kid,” Jack mutters, rubbing his hands over his face.

  “You’re going to thank me before you kill me, I promise. Look, I gotta go. You’ll see, this will be good for the club. In the meantime, I’m going to plan a Grand Opening. Every fucking person from Bay Street to Tottenville is going to know the Satan’s Knights are moving in and they’re all going to want to party with us.”

  “Because we’re just a barrel of fun,” Stryker deadpans.

  “Speak for yourself buddy,” Deuce argues.

  “We’re going to need to discuss this further,” Jack warns.

  “Sure thing Daddy-O,” Riggs replies.

  “Hang up on him.”

  Reaching for the phone, Blackie ends the call and we all turn to Jack.

  “Fuck, I’m exhausted,” he grunts. Drawing in a deep breath, he grabs a toothpick from his pocket and slips it between his lips. “Moving on from that fucking clown,” he starts, turning his attention towards me. “It’s time for you to fill us in on what the fuck is going on with your dead brother and why you’re looking after his woman and kid.”

  With all the comradery going on, I almost forgot I was fucked.

  “I gotta tell you, man, she’s fucking hot. Tell me you tapped that before your brother and you’ll be my hero,” Deuce says.

  “Of course he tapped that,” Pipe mutters, shoving a hand toward me. “It�
�s written all over his face.”

  “That true?” Jack questions.

  “Yeah,” I mutter reluctantly. “Long time ago, Mac and I were together.”

  “You let your brother steal your woman?” Cobra asks incredulously.

  “I’m with Cobra on this one,” Blackie says.

  I thought I could get away with giving them a watered-down version of the twisted cocktail that was me and Mac’s story but one glance around the table and I know that won’t suffice. These motherfuckers want blood or nothing at all.

  “That ain’t what this is about. Mac and I are over.”

  “Okay,” Jack says, eyeing the rest of the guys. “So, why don’t you tell us what it is about then?”

  “Like I told you before I left, I got a call that my brother was murdered and that Mac and Ryder were in trouble. Call me a fool or call me a sucker but that was enough to send me packing. When I got to the clubhouse Junior’s blood was still caked to the walls, and the club was on high alert. There was no sign of Ryder or Mac, there was only my mother and a half empty bottle of whiskey. She knew I wasn’t there to offer my condolences. In fact, she revealed it was her idea to use Mac as bait to get me to Kentucky. You see, she and Mac got bad blood dating back to when she and I were together. She knows I’ll always come running for Mac.”

  “What about the kid?” Pipe asks.

  “Knowing your ex-girl is in your brother’s bed is one thing, knowing he knocked her up is another. I imagine the kid is a hard pill to swallow.”

  “It is,” I admit, meeting his gaze. “But he’s innocent in all this and when push comes to shove, he’s my nephew. I won’t let anything happen to him either.”

  “He’s a cute kid,” Jack comments. “Called me Sir.”

  “He’s a great kid,” I agree. “It sucks I let my pride stand in the way from knowing him,” I reveal. “You know he doesn’t call me Uncle Bas? He met you today and when we left he said goodbye, Uncle Jack,” I say, looking down at my hands. “That’s my fault.”

  “You can fix that,” Jack says.

  The question is do I want to fix it.

  “So, let me see if I got this right,” Pipe says. “Your mother calls to tell you your brother is dead and Mac is in danger. I’m guessing his death is the reason they’re here?”

  “Junior was fucking around with the cartel. I don’t got the whole story, all I know is he killed the daughter of some drug lord. In return, they killed him. According to Milly that’s not enough and she claims the cartel won’t be satisfied until Mac and Ryder are dead too.”

  “An eye for an eye,” Blackie mutters.

  “Do you know anything about these guys?”

  “No, and I haven’t had a chance to do any digging. I wasn’t equipped to take on Mac, much less her son. I don’t know what the fuck to do with them.”

  “Well, you knew enough to take them here,” Stryker comments.

  “Oh, because this place is like Mr. Roger’s neighborhood,” Deuce mutters sarcastically.

  Ignoring him, I turn to Jack.

  “Considering I’m here and all the intel is probably in Kentucky, I don’t know how long it’s going to take to figure this shit out and nail the cartel. In the meantime, I can’t take them back to my apartment. That’s the last place any kid should call home. Mac is already breathing down my neck, asking me if she needs to enroll the kid in school or get a job and I’m here wondering where the fuck they’re going to sleep tonight.”

  “Look, it ain’t much and it needs a good cleaning, but you can stay at my old house,” Pipe suggests. “I haven’t been there since I trashed the joint after Oksana’s death,” he adds. “There might be a family of stray cats living there—”

  “We cleaned it out after you took off for the woods,” Blackie supplies. “Got rid of everything in the kitchen and packed the rest of Oksana’s things. I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do with her stuff so, I rented a storage unit off Bay Parkway.”

  “I appreciate that,” Pipe says before glancing back at me. “It just needs a little TLC, and it's yours.”

  “I can send Ally in,” Deuce offers. “The girl is bored as fuck since we ran out of walls to hang shit on. I’m afraid she’s going to hang a fucking picture frame from my cock if she doesn’t have something else to decorate.”

  “Whoa,” I object, holding up my hand. “Decorate?”

  “You heard the man, he said the house needs some love…Ally will give it love and make it homey.”

  “She does have a knack for decorating,” Cobra agrees. “However, you should probably warn him about the throw pillows.”

  “Oh, man, you have no idea. I suffocate every time I sit on the couch,” Deuce mutters.

  My forehead breaks out with beads of sweat as they go back and forth, discussing all the ways Ally is going to make a home for me, Mac and Ryder.

  “If you bitches are done talking about linens, maybe you can find your dicks, so we can get back to business,” Jack growls.

  Cobra and Deuce stop talking as Pipe leans back and unlatches the key ring from the belt loop of his jeans. Tossing the key onto the table, he flicks it toward me.

  “Take it.”

  “It’ll only be Mac and Ryder staying there,” I clarify. More so for myself than for them. “I’m going to be going back to my apartment.”

  “You just told us their lives are in danger and your plan is to leave them alone at Pipe’s?” Linc questions.

  “I was hoping the club would provide protection,” I reply, looking back at Jack. “I’m not asking you guys to get involved in this mess. I know the last thing any of you need is a bunch of drug lords sniffing around your territory but while I work on eliminating the threat against Mac and Ryder, I was hoping you’d throw a couple of prospects on them.”

  Crossing his arms against his chest, he leans back and fixes me with a stare.

  “You know what I’m going to ask next,” he says.

  I sure fucking do. He’s going to ask me the question I’ve dreaded since I crossed the Kentucky border.

  “You putting a claim on Mac and Ryder?”

  “If that’s what it takes for the club to back me,” I reply.

  Jack laughs.

  “The club is going to back you regardless, son,” he says, uncrossing his arms. Placing his elbows on the table, he leans forward. “It’s the rest of this world that needs to know they’re off limits, that they’re under the protection of the Satan’s Knights. You want me to put a prospect on them because you’re a pussy who's afraid of getting attached to a woman you still love and a kid you share blood with. I’ll give you the prospect but you ain’t running after a fucking cartel without your brothers behind you. Any business of yours is business of this club. Now, we don’t know what we’re dealing with and as usual, we’re riding blind. If this winds up being bigger than us and we start calling in favors, every charter is going to ask who these two belong to and you’re going to tell them, they belong to you. They are yours which makes them ours.”

  I could argue and refuse their help, turn my back on the club and go rogue but, the only people who will suffer is Mac and Ryder. Like it or not, I need them. I also need to bite the bullet and say the words my heart never forgot.

  “Mac and Ryder are mine,” I rasp. “My property and my responsibility. That being said, I would appreciate the support of my club in keeping them mine.”

  “You got it,” Jack says immediately. “Now, was that so hard?”

  He has no fucking idea.

  No idea at all.

  “We’re going to need to gather any and all intel available regarding Juniors dealings over the last few years,” he announces, pointing a finger at Cobra. “Call the bounty hunter and see if he can get anything on this motherfucker. Deuce, run by Riggs’ house after here and fill him in on the situation. Maybe the crazy bastard can stop his party planning services and find some shit floating in cyberspace.”

  “I’m on it,” Deuce replies.

  �
��Who is the president of the charter back home?”

  “I rather we do this without any help from them,” I tell him. “I’m not sure who to trust over there and the president is shady as fuck. It don’t help any that he’s married to my mother. While that bitch will do anything to protect Ryder, she’ll also serve Mac to the enemy on a silver platter if given the opportunity.”

  “Fine,” Jack says, scratching his jaw. “What about Mac?”

  “What about her?”

  “Well, seeing as she’s got his kid, she had to get close to Junior. Did you ask her what she knows about his dealings with the cartel?”

  “No,” I growl. “I’ve been too preoccupied keeping her quiet to take advantage of what she might know,” I admit.

  “She’s all we got right now,” Jack reminds me.

  “Why have you been keeping her quiet?” Blackie asks.

  “I don’t want to hear her excuses for her decisions.”

  “Those excuses might be exactly what we need to keep her and the kid alive,” Blackie points out.

  Claiming them was a hard hit, hearing her side of our story would be a blow I’m not sure I can withstand. Still, he’s right. If anyone can shed a little light on this shit storm, it’s the girl who stands in the center of it.

  “Black’s right. Get them situated at Pipe’s house and I’ll put a prospect on them but, you're going to have to grab your balls and stop avoiding the inevitable,” he commands, reaching for the mallet. “Is there anything else?”

  “There’s one more thing,” Blackie says, pinning him with a hard stare. “What happened with the doctor?”

  “This ain’t the time nor the fucking place,” Jack fires back, slamming the mallet down. Releasing it, he sends it rolling down the middle of the table before he hastily pushes back his chair and rises to his full height.

  “Church is adjourned,” he spats.

  “Good,” Blackie says, standing himself. “Then you can tell us, your family, what happened with the fucking doctor.”

  “You’re overstepping. Any other man would’ve caught a bullet by now.”

  “What’s the problem, Parrish?” Pipe questions. “You never held your illness back before.”

  “Lacey says the Lithium isn’t working anymore,” Blackie reveals to the room.