by London Casey
He moved through the black cloth and went to the back of the old store.
It stunk of dust and must.
Old man Ronnie was on his knees, his hands together as though he were praying. Blood ran down his face and his hands were shaking. He was gasping for breaths as a fat man stood before him, brass knuckles on his hand.
Brody looked to his left and saw a man with a suit standing with his arms crossed. He had thin black hair, a fading hairline that probably pissed him off. He looked at Brody and snapped his fingers.
“What is this?” he asked. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Leave the old man alone,” Brody said.
The man, Michael, started to laugh. “Hey, Tiny, check this out. It’s a leather boy. Thinks he’s all tough. Get the fuck out of here.”
“Please…” Old man Ronnie said.
Tiny threw another fist. The metal knuckles hit Ronnie’s face with a crunch.
Brody stepped forward. He could have pulled his gun right then and ended this shit. But instead he wanted to take on the big guy one on one.
“You hit an old man with brass knuckles?” Brody asked.
“He owes my boss money,” Tiny said. “I do as I’m told.”
“He’s smart,” Michael said. “Unlike you. Whoever the fuck you are. Leather boy. I bet you’re fucking that slut out there.”
Brody turned his head. “Slut? Did you call Ana a slut?”
“What? Oh, come on. Last time we were here… oh, that body…”
Brody saw red. He couldn’t picture sweet and innocent Ana doing anything like that. Worse yet, if she was forced to do anything.
“Tiny, take this fucking piece of shit out,” Michael said. “Then we can continue our business.”
From the corner of his eye, Brody saw Tiny winding up a big fist. The brass would have knocked him out cold if Tiny hit the side of his head. But Brody knew this game. He’d been playing it his entire life. And fuck, he probably invented some of the rules. His eyes may have been looking at Michael, but he knew right where Tiny was, including the fat man’s fist.
Brody crouched down at the last second and looked up to the see the brass knuckled fist hit Michael in the face. The suit and tie asshole went off his feet and crashed into a wall. There was blood everywhere, spraying from his nose, mouth, hell, maybe even his eyes.
Tiny forgot Brody was there and stepped forward. He tripped over Brody and Brody hurried to roll out of the way so the big guy didn’t land on him. When Brody stood a second later, he was the only one doing so. Tiny was crawling toward Michael, looking helpless and scared.
“I’m so sorry,” Tiny said. “Michael…”
Brody offered Tiny a swift kick to the ribs and the fat man started to cough and gag. Brody then went to Michael and grabbed him by his suit jacket and lifted him up. The blood was everywhere. Michael coughed and teeth fell from his mouth.
“Holy fuck,” Brody said. “He got you good.”
“Fuck you,” Michael said. “You’ll be killed.”
Brody slammed Michael’s head off the wall. “I’m talking here. And you’re going to answer my questions or else I’ll kill you. Got that?”
Michael nodded.
“Who are you? Why are you beating the fuck out of old man Ronnie?”
“He owes me five grand,” Michael said. “Gambling. We have a lottery ticket thing going. Real smooth business. But he’s been fucking up lately.”
“He’s an old man,” Brody said. “Can’t find someone younger to fuck with?”
“I’ll get him…” a voice said.
Brody looked down and saw Tiny reaching for his leg.
This guy is a big fucking moron.
Brody swung his left foot, the front of his black boot crushing against Tiny’s mouth. Tiny went down again, now weeping like a big, sad Teddy bear.
“He’s in debt with me,” Michael said. “Age… doesn’t matter…”
“But this town does matter,” Brody said. “You don’t step into Frelen without coming through us.”
“Us…?”
“Back Down Devil, asshole,” Brody said. “This is our town. Our lives to live and protect. Our debts to protect. Our money to spend. You got that, asshole?”
“Fine,” Michael said. “But Ronnie’s been scamming for years…”
“What did you do to his daughter?” Brody asked.
Michael let out a cry. “Nothing. Come on, this hurts. I need a hospital.”
“Look me in the fucking eyes.”
Michael did. His face was a mess of torn up hell. “What?”
“Tell me what you did to her…”
“I made Tiny lift up her shirt last time,” Michael said. “That was it. I just wanted to see, you know? I remember her from ten years ago. She was beautiful then. But now she’s a woman. I just wanted…”
“Did you fuck her?”
“No,” Michael yelled. “I swear.”
Brody gritted his teeth. He remembered sneaking around this back room a few times, hoping to find where old man Ronnie stored the cash for the business. He didn’t want to have to resort to that, but if he could have found just a couple hundred dollars, he and his mother could have fled. They could have had a fucking chance. But there was no money. There was never any money.
Brody backed away from Michael. He stood, shaking, his knees slowly bending.
Brody turned and went to old man Ronnie. He lifted the man up, putting him in a seated position. The old man reached for Brody’s face. His lips were quivering. He was crying.
“Where’s Ana?” he asked.
“She’s okay. She’s out front. Are you okay, old man?”
Ronnie nodded. “I’m fine. I’ve had worse. They were promising things, Brody.”
“What?”
“Things they were going to do to my Ana,” Ronnie said. He started to weep harder. “They were going to do things to her. I wouldn’t have been able to stop them.”
Brody pulled Ronnie close and hugged him. “It’s okay, old man. Nothing’s going to happen now. They won’t be back, I promise you.” Brody closed his eyes and for a second he thought he was going to cry too. “You should have fucking called me. You should have had Ana fucking call me.”
“I didn’t want to bother you with my shit,” Ronnie said. “I just can’t…”
Brody patted Ronnie’s old cheek. “I don’t want to hear it. You do what you have to do. I’m not going to judge you for that. But that woman out there is beautiful. She’s waiting for a life. Give it to her.”
“I’m trying,” Ronnie said. “I didn’t know these guys…”
“Fuck you,” Michael roared. “You grubby piece of shit.”
Brody kissed old man Ronnie’s forehead and then let him go. When he stood, the curtain flew open and in came Lane and Jack. They froze and looked around the room.
“What the fuck?” Lane asked.
“So glad you could join us,” Brody said. “You fucking idiots wonder why you’re not patched in. What did you think was happening back here?”
“We came inside,” Jack said. “Miller sent us… there’s…”
“Shut up,” Brody said. He walked to Tiny and reached down and slid the brass knuckles off his hand. He then walked to Lane and handed the weapon to him. “I need you to do something.”
“What?”
“Get Ronnie to a hospital and get him fixed up,” Brody said. “Make sure Ana is taken care of. If you fucking touch her, I’ll rip your dick off.”
“What about the suit and tie?” Jack asked.
“Keep him alive,” Brody said. “Let him go.” Brody looked back at Michael. “I don’t think he’ll be back in Frelen again. Because if he does come back, I’ll gut him. And anyone he brings.”
Michael put his hands up. “Just let me out of here.”
“There’s one more thing,” Brody said. He pointed to the brass knuckles in Lane’s hand.
“Can I beat him up?” Lane asked, eyes gleaming.
; “No,” Brody said. “That fat piece of shit on the ground was hitting Ronnie with these. Shove this up his ass. Give him a lesson. Make him scream. Make the suit and tie watch. And let Ronnie watch.”
“Are you serious?” Lane asked. “How…”
Brody put a hand to Lane’s shoulder, and a hand to Jack’s. “Both of you, work together. Don’t fuck it up. Or I’ll shove my boots up your ass.” Brody turned and gave a wave to Ronnie. “Stay out of trouble, old man.”
“Thank you,” Ronnie said as he put his hands together and shook them at Brody. “Thank you so much.”
Brody left the back room and found Ana standing near the counter. She had a finger in her hair, twirling it. Her face was flush, her eyes wide.
“It’s okay now,” Brody said.
Ana rushed to him, hugging him. Brody hugged her back. It would be so easy to take her. Fuck, he could bend her right over this counter. Thrust at her. Pump her body full…
“Thank you,” Ana said.
Brody broke the hug. “Do you have headphones and music or something?”
Ana nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. Lock the door behind me and take a break. Sit down and listen to music.”
“What’s happening back there?” Ana asked.
“Teaching lessons, that’s all,” Brody said. He stroked his thumb along Ana’s cheek. “You don’t need to hear it, sweetheart. Just do what I said. Then get the old man to the hospital and get him fixed up.”
Brody smiled and walked to the front door. He didn’t look back because if he did he would have taken Ana. His eyes were focused on his ride. There he stood and waited to hear the door lock. When the thunk sound came, Brody put on his helmet and started his beast. It roared to life and he cruised away from the rundown store.
He realized halfway to the clubhouse that he forgot his smokes on the counter.
Fuck.
four.
Heather sat in a leather chair in a desolate hallway. The one light near the window gently buzzed, flickering in and out of life, waiting to die. It was some kind of symbol for the hospital. So many rooms, so many people. Everyone just waiting to die. Some would die, some wouldn’t. Hell, the same could be said for all the people working in the hospital. Everyone was just waiting to die. Between now and death there was nothing to do but kill time.
These were the days Heather found the job rough. She didn’t regret the job and she didn’t regret her decision to become a nurse. But she wished she could make a phone call and hear someone’s voice to soothe her. Better yet, she wished she could go home, take a long hot shower, and then cuddle up on the couch with someone who would hold her, touch her, whisper things that would calm her. And then love her. Love her so hard… so long… hands everywhere… the need… the want…
Heather closed her eyes. She tried to dig far back in her memory to remember if she and Lyle were ever like that. He had just been the quiet, best dressed guy a college bar one night. And Heather had been celebrating something stupid. It wasn’t her birthday, so that meant something dumb like passing a class or finishing out a semester. Waking up next to Lyle was fun for the first morning… but now years later she wondered just how it had gotten this far.
You know how it got this fucking far. You fucking liar.
Heather hated herself for letting things get out of control.
“Hey, girl, you listening to me?”
Heather jumped and opened her eyes. She looked up as Debbie looked down at her. She was holding coffee. It wasn’t hospital coffee either, but coffee from a corner cafe. Delicious coffee.
“That for me?” Heather asked.
“Yes,” Debbie said.
Heather took the coffee and Debbie plopped down next to her. At the same time, they both took off the lids to the coffee and blew into it. They stared at the blank wall across from them, the silence some kind of blessing.
It wasn’t until they sipped the coffee did Debbie start to talk again.
“That was a mess,” Debbie said. “A fucking mess. Those goddamn biker guys. They’re always causing goddamn trouble in this town.”
“I can’t believe that guy lived through that,” Heather said. “He was burned damn near everywhere.”
“Yeah, well, he’s lucky he had us. Running around like damn fools so he could ride his motorcycle again. And cause trouble. And do whatever else they do over there. Those businesses they have aren’t real. Even the cops know it and they do nothing.” Debbie turned to face Heather. “You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think the cops need those guys.”
“What guys?”
“Back Down Devil,” Debbie whispered. “That’s who they are. The bikers. But I think they’re more than just that. I think they take care of things the cops can’t and won’t. That’s why there’s some kind of understanding.”
“Well, no matter what happens to that man, he’ll have some pretty bad scars,” Heather said. “He was leaning in the car when the bomb went off. He’s lucky the bomb was in the trunk and not in the backseat, or in his hands. He’d be dead then.”
“That would have been bad,” Debbie said.
“Easier on us though,” Heather said with a dry laugh.
Debbie patted Heather’s hand. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. If one of those men died, all hell would break loose in this town. Christ, hell is coming now. Whoever did that to them…”
“Won’t the cops investigate?”
“Like I said, I think the cops need those men more than those men need the cops.” Debbie stood up. “Sorry to interrupt your break here. I talk a lot when I’m tired or stressed.”
“I’m not on a break. My shift is done.”
“Done? Then what the hell are you still doing here?
Heather laughed. “Not sure.”
“Get out of here. Enjoy some freedom for once. Go home and let Kyle take care of you…”
Heather nodded and smiled. Everyone called Lyle by the wrong name. And never once did Heather care enough to correct them. It just didn’t matter enough to her.
“Thanks,” Heather said. “Thanks for the coffee, too.”
“Hey, that was a messy scene before,” Debbie said. “In my years of experience, I’ve learned it’s best not to think about it. Not to dwell on it. Not to keep picturing it all. If you do that, then the job literally never ends. We did good today. The doctors did good today. It wasn’t our fault he got himself blown up. It’s our job to help and that’s what we did.” Debbie paused for a few seconds. “Have a good night, Heather.”
The truth was that Heather wasn’t thinking about the man wrapped up in a hospital bed, covered in burns. She wasn’t thinking about the sight of his face and body, the tattered clothing and char-burned flesh. She wasn’t thinking about the other guys, yelling and cursing, making her feel like a war was going to start right in the emergency room.
She was thinking about going home.
What waited for her there. Lyle and his bullshit. His punishments. It was a definite that Peter called Lyle to complain about the coffee incident.
But fuck him. Right? Fuck him and fuck Lyle. Fuck them all.
Heather walked to the elevators and felt tears building up in her eyes. She hated herself even more for letting this kind of fear get to her. The fear that crippled her and the fear that left her commanded, even when she knew she was strong enough to do something better.
The elevator pinged and the doors opened.
Heather wasn’t able to step forward. Instead, she backed up as three men rushed from the elevator. They were tall and big. The front person looked right at her. His stare sliced right through every emotion Heather knew possible. His shoulders looked a mile wide. His shirt under his leather cut was tight to his body, muscles hard, tight, and seemingly everywhere.
“You work here?” he asked Heather.
“Yes. I’m a nurse. I’m going home.”
“Where is he?”
“Who?”
&nbs
p; The man approached Heather. He pulled at his leather. “Don’t be a smartass, sweetheart. Our brother is here. Hurt. Got blown up.”
“Erik?”
“Yes,” the man said. “Where the fuck is he?”
Heather pointed and gave general directions and the room number.
The man reached out and touched Heather’s shoulder. “Did you see him?”
“I was there, yes.”
“Is it bad?”
“Honestly? Yes.”
“Is he going to die?”
“I don’t think so,” Heather said. “Depends on how much he wants to fight to live. But he’s going to have some scars. It was…”
“Okay,” the man said. “Thanks. Will you be here tomorrow?”
“Me? Yeah. I work here.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you then.”
The man let Heather go and took the lead again.
Heather stood in silence and watched as the three men walked down the hall. On the back of the leather cuts Back Down Devil MC was written. It was pretty obvious who they were and why they were here. But that one guy… the one that touched Heather…
Heather looked at her shoulder and then touched it.
“Wow,” she whispered.
Had she ever seen someone so sexy and brooding before? The way he came at her and the way he looked at her… that was real.
Heather shook herself to wake from some kind of strange biker fantasy and she left the hospital once and for all. The drive home was long and filled with fear. The small ranch house was outside Frelen. There weren’t neighbors and the closest buildings were parts of the town that had been shut down and left to rot in ruin. Heather hated the place so much, but she knew why Lyle chose it. It was the perfect place to hide. To stay away from any fires. And as Lyle put it, a place where nobody could hear Heather scream.
Heather parked her car and climbed out. She looked at the dark house and shivered. In her heart, she wished Lyle wasn’t home. Better yet, she wished that guy from Back Down Devil was here to escort her inside. To make sure Lyle wasn’t…
The porch light turned on and Lyle was standing there. Right on the porch, under the light. He had a cigarette between his lips, the cherry burning when he took breaths. In his other hand was a bottle.
