The Filthy Few (Iron Disciples MC)

by Daniella Tucci

  “Holy shit,” Says gravelly voice. “She’s got the good stuff!”

  “Lemme see. You’re right, this stuff is powerful. You want one?” Cade’s brother asks.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? This shit’s better than pussy! No wonder she hasn’t moved. She’s passed out. Well, maybe not. We both heard a noise a second ago.”

  “For the record,” begins Cade’s brother. “Nothing’s better than pussy, not even Vicodin. And I think she’s still out cold and just rolled over or something.”

  “Shit, we better get out of here then. If your brother is taking care of her it means he’ll probably be back soon. He probably just went to the store to get something. I seriously doubt he’s at a client meeting now.”

  “You’re right. We should split before he shows up. I’m gonna have a hard time explaining what we’re doing in his house.”

  Even after the door has been closed a full five minutes I am still hesitant to get up. Maybe it’s a trap and just one of them left. Maybe the other one is standing here watching me still. I make a big show of slowly waking up and turning over. Gradually I open my eyes, fully prepared to react in total shock if I see someone other than Cade or Stacy looking down at me. Thankfully I am alone!

  SEVEN

  Happy Un-Birthday to You

  I have a dilemma facing me. Do I tell Cade that his brother and some other dude are plotting against him or should I just keep my trap shut and let him find out on his own? I mean, this is his world not mine. Do I really want to get involved? Fuck no! In a couple days I’m gonna be back home and I’ll never see Cade again. Why should I jeopardize my safety and my career over someone I don’t even like? I just gotta keep myself together here for a couple more days and then I’ll go home and it’ll be business as usual.

  This time when I close my eyes I really do fall asleep. I dream about the second worst day of my life; the day when my parents told my brother and me that mom had cancer.

  “Jaime…Morgan? Kids, I want you to turn off the TV and sit down with your dad and me. We have something to talk about.”

  We sit down between our parents and wait for them to ruin our lives. I figured they were getting separated or something. They had been fighting a lot lately. What they told us instead was a million times worse. Dad starts talking first.

  “Kids, as you probably have noticed, your mother has been sick off and on lately.”

  “Yeah,” I say interrupting him. “You said she has this weird virus that takes twice as long to kill. So what, is it going to take even longer to kill?”

  “It’s not a virus honey. Y-your mother…she has cancer.”

  For a couple seconds neither Jaime nor I say a thing. We are so stunned neither of us can respond. Finally Jaime breaks the silence.

  “But you can cure it right?” He pleads. “It’ll just take a while and mom will be really sick but she’ll get well right? Tell me she’s gonna get better!”

  Neither of them says anything for a few seconds which of course makes us even more afraid. Finally dad begins speaking again. Mom seems to have lost her voice. She just looks down in her lap where she is wringing her hands and crying softly.

  “Your mom has a rare form of bone cancer. There is no cure.”

  “Nooooo!” I scream. “Noooo!” It’s all that comes out of me; one long anguished defiant word…no.

  My reaction makes mom even more anguished. Her whole body shakes as deep sobs are ripped from her soul. I don’t deal with the news well. I collapse on the floor screaming into the carpet. I don’t know how my little brother is taking the news, but I can’t be worried about him right now. After a time I am finally able to listen and to talk. I get back up on the couch and give my little brother a sideways glance. He has been crying. He wipes his reddened eyes with an already soaked sleeve.

  “So…there’s medicine she can take to slow it down right? Mom’s still going on our trip right?”

  One look at dad’s face answers my question. I don’t need to hear his words.

  “I don’t think so honey.”

  “But it’s this summer. That’s only four months from now.” I plead.

  “The doctor tells us her disease is progressing very rapidly now.” My dad explains. “She has a month…maybe two at most.”

  This time its dad’s turn to break down. Before that day, I had never seen my dad cry and it scared the hell out of me. He had to be strong for us. We were losing our mom. He couldn’t break down too. What I understand today, I didn’t understand or even think about then. Yes, we were losing out mom, but dad was losing his best friend; his wife. She was the love of his life and she was leaving him too.

  Mom lasted longer than expected. In fact she lasted so long we actually thought that maybe, just maybe she would beat cancer. She didn’t. On the morning of her birthday I discovered she had succumbed to her disease. The medical examiner said she expired sometime during the night. She hadn’t quite made it to her 42nd Birthday. That was the worst day of my life!

  The front door shutting brings me out of my dream. As usual when I dream about that day I wake up feeling like I have been crying all night long; even though I slept for maybe an hour tops. I just feel totally strung out now and the last thing I want is to talk to anyone, especially Cade.

  But I roll over and prop myself up. I have a decision to make here. Do I tell him about his brother’s treachery or not? I know it’s not my business, but if I were in his shoes I’m certain I’d want someone warning me about being betrayed no matter who was doing the betraying. I don’t like the guy, but I can’t sit here and pretend I didn’t hear what I heard and it would be cruel even for me not to tell him so I have to. Actually the one deciding factor is the fact that those idiots swiped my pills. I have to tell him or he’ll accuse me of taking them all and I’ll never be able to get any more. Sadly, that’s the real reason I going to tell him about his brother.

  “Hey uh…Cade!”

  “What’s up babe?” He asks, walking in the room.

  “Babe? What’s up babe?”

  What the fucks up with the babe business. I have half a mind to not tell him now. What’s up babe…for fuck’s sake?

  “What is it?” He asks. “You’ve got that serious look on your face again. What happened Morgan?”

  “You had a visitor while you were out.”

  “Really? Who came by? And how did whoever it was get in? I know I locked the door. Did you actually get up off your ass and answer the door?”

  “No I did not get up off my ass and answer the door. Do I look fucking stupid to you?”

  “I’m sorry, I was just alarmed. I sometimes have to associate with some shady people.”

  “No shit, you?”

  “Just tell me Morgan, who came by to see me?”

  “Well, they weren’t actually here to see you. They must have picked the lock and they were looking for something.”

  Suddenly his handsome face turns dark. His easygoing smile turns down into a menacing look.

  “Who the fuck came by Morgan?” He says in a dark steely voice.

  “I didn’t actually see them but it was your twin brother and some guy who sounded like he gargles with rocks every morning.”

  “Dammit! Did they find what they were looking for?”

  Suddenly he’s pacing the room, his fists clenching and unclenching.

  I didn’t open my eyes. I was pretending to be asleep. They came in and saw me as soon as they got here so they didn’t stick around.”

  “So they didn’t say anything and didn’t find anything then?” He asks.

  “They did talk until the saw me. They were looking for some files about people or something and they were going to make a plan against you.”

  I wish I could remember exactly what they said. I was so scared I just couldn’t concentrate well on what they said.

  “I see…”

  “Oh oh I remember now. They said something about finding out who is on your list and they are making a plan t
o counter anything you do. Something like that. Does that make any sense to you?”

  “Unfortunately yes.”

  “So you know what that was all about then?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I have to ask you something and I want you to be completely honest with me.”

  “Okay.”

  “What would have happened to me if I would not have pretended to be asleep?”

  He has to think for a few seconds, but I think he is not trying to deceive me.

  “It depends on how much they said and how much they think you heard. It may have also depended on what they guessed our relationship was; whether we’re a couple, friends, or just acquaintances.”

  “I see…So what were they talking about?”

  “Office politics,” he says with a smile.

  “Very fucking funny. I don’t peg you for an office kind of guy.”

  “I’m the president of the club and my little brother is the vice president who is not content to be just the vice president. He wants my job and looks like he’ll stop at nothing to get that top position.”

  “I see…”

  “Your brother, he’s how many years older than you?”

  “Oh you’re good, you’re very good; but flattery will get you nowhere.”

  “He’s younger? Wow, in all seriousness, he looks like he’s three or four years older than you.”

  “Well he’s around that much younger than me. But we do get along. Or maybe we only get along because he has no interest in my job so there’s nothing he wants to steal from me.”

  “You really think that?” Cade asks.

  “Fuck no. We are, as we Millennials say, tight.”

  Then he launches this seemingly endless diatribe about motorcycle clubs and his brother’s place in the pecking order and why he needs to be happy where he’s at and that he’s not fit to be in the top slot and blah blah blah… I focus as long as I can but I can only take so drivel; I am human after all.

  “I’m sorry, you lost me.”

  “Uh…okay. Where did I lose you?”

  “Right about when you said, my brother has always said…”

  “Wait…really? That was the first thing out of my mouth.”

  “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that.”

  “You don’t have many friends do you?”

  “I have loads of them.” I retort.

  “Really…so name your best friend.”

  “Juld…dly…” I barely manage to spit out.

  “Julddly? What’s this Julddly’s last name and her cell number?”

  “Mayfiel-. Oh fuck! No, I don’t have a lot of friends. I’m not a friendly person so fucking sue me already!”

  “Yeah…you’re a pretty scary person. It takes guts to be exposed to you day after day.”

  “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

  “Bad…no, it’s just who you are.”

  “Tell me how you earned your Filthy Few patch.” I say, showing my own nerves of steel.

  “Wow…you sure know how to keep the conversation lively.”

  “I bore pretty fucking easily.”

  “I’ll tell you-“

  “But then you’d have to kill me, is that it?”

  “Do you see a lot of movies? Suddenly I get a picture of you every weekend sitting in the dark by yourself watching movie after movie. No, I won’t have to kill you. They only do that in unrealistic movies. What I mean is, once I’ve told the story I can’t un-tell it. And you won’t be able to forget it either. It’ll change you and it’ll change how we relate to one another. Are you sure you want that?”

  No, I’m not sure but I’m sure as hell not gonna say no; not now. I need to know if this guy is a stone cold killer or if it’s something completely different. Cade takes a seat in the recliner and puts his feet up like it’s going to be a very long story. I better get comfortable as well.

  “So…I was about-”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake, who the hell is that?”

  Someone has just walked in the front door. I look down at my watch and right away I know who it is.

  “It’s your cousin. She had to go to an office meeting.”

  With a sigh he gets up and I know the mood has been broken. He’s not going to tell the story with his cousin looming about; even if they are as close as she claims.

  Stacy walks in, takes one look around and guesses it.

  “I’ve interrupted something.” She says. “Shall I go back to the office and come back later?”

  “No, it’s already late. Let’s just finish up so you can get to watching American Idol.”

  I know she likes to watch American Idol so when I can I try to cut her loose in time to watch it.

  By the time Stacy fills me in on everything I missed at the office and helped with a mound of paperwork it’s nearing eight. I’m not a fan of the show but since I’m kind of a captive audience I may as well watch; it’s not like I can do anything else anyway. We have a few glasses of wine and before you know it, it’s nearly eleven and we both have to be ready to work again by 6:30am for the open of the stock market.

  “Look Stacy,” I begin as she’s heading for her bedroom. “I’ve kept you up way late. Why don’t you just wake up at 6:30 tomorrow? I’ll be fine and if I need you I’ll just holler.”

  We both know she’s not going to do that but social niceties dictate that I at least make the offer. Why I have to make it in the first place when she won’t listen anyway is beyond my comprehension. But then, I’m that way with a lot of things. I get so wrapped up in my work and my very narrow life that I fail to see how the rest of the world manages to get by. I had a hard time tonight concentrating on anything and I know I’m going to have a tough time sleeping too. Not only do I not have any pain killers, but I can’t wait to hear his Filthy Few patch story. With nothing to help me sleep I may not get much shut eye before my own alarm wakes me at five.

  EIGHT

  Face Off

  I’m not generally a light sleeper. But tonight, regardless of the fact that I am dead tired, I wake up less than two hours after I finally crashed for the night. Judging from the dim bluish light coming from the kitchen I’m guessing someone is raiding the fridge. A couple minutes later I hear at least two different voices, maybe three. I can’t really tell what they’re saying. They’re loud enough to be heard but no loud enough to be understood. If I could have gotten up without the use of crutches I probably would have done so and checked it out. It’s just too much a pain in the ass so I just lie here and wonder what’s up. Soon after the light goes out and the voices disappear I drift off only to wake up again when I hear the front door opening and closing. It’s still dark out. I glance at my watch; it’s four in the morning. I wonder what was so important that it needed discussing all night long. When my alarm wakes me at 4:45 I feel like I haven’t even slept a wink. This is going to be a long day. I can also feel a shitty mood coming on. I have been all night with not only no pain pills but no aspirin or any other over-the-counter pain relievers either.

  At 5:25am Stacy walks into the living room, takes one look at me and guesses my mood.

  “It’s gonna be another SFB day isn’t it?” She asks.

  SFB is her way of saying shit for breakfast. When I am in a foul mood she says I act like I had [S]hit [F]or [B]reakfast instead of my usual Wheaties.

  “Yeah…it’s gonna be one of those days. My benefactor kept me awake last night with his all night get together. They finally left about an hour ago. Did you not hear them?”

  “No way. I sleep like a rock. Besides I’m used to guys coming in all hours of the night to conduct business. While that is a bummer, you could do worse than my cousin for a benefactor.”

  “True.”

  “Well,” Stacy begins. “You usually have to put out for most bene-. Oh wait, you already did. That makes him your sugar daddy then doesn’t it?

  “Hey,” I protest. “No money has changed hands here.”

  “You sti
ll have a problem with him don’t you?” She asks.

  “Hey you would too if he wasn’t your cousin.”

  “What’s not to like Morgan? He’s handsome, he’s successful, and yet you still have a problem with him. So what is it? In what way is he not the perfect man? He’s smart, well read, and educated and he has his own business.”

  “Builds custom motorcycles I believe.”

  “So?”

  “He’s the president of the Iron Disciples Motorcycle Club.”

  “Even better!”

  “How is that better? He’s a criminal.”

  “It’s an outlaw club yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s a criminal. This town’s full of law abiding outlaw bikers. Many of them had outlaw roots back in the fifties and sixties but today they hold down jobs, are married and have children. It’s not like it used to be Morgan.”

  “He’s got this patch, the Filthy Few. Ever heard of that patch?” I can tell by the look on her face that she knows exactly what that patch means.

  “I think it means that anyone wearing the patch will kill for the club; no questions asked. But that doesn’t mean he has; he is just willing to if that’s what he needs to do to protect his club.”

  “You’re almost right. It means, and this is straight from him, a person earns that patch when he has killed for the club. I Googled it and confronted him and he didn’t deny it. The man’s a killer Stacy.”

  “If you really believe that deep down in your heart you wouldn’t be staying here with him. You’d jump at the chance to leave if another place was offered.”

  “No.”

  “Fine,” she says. “Then you can stay with my sister. She has an extra room.”

  I shake my head.

  After a long pause she says: “See I told you, you really don’t believe he’s a killer. Otherwise you would have taken my offer or taken a room in a nice hotel But I’ll tell you what I’ll do for you. I have a friend who is with Army Intelligence. He swears up and down that he is a human lie detector. He also is skilled at reading people. If you really think my cousin is a killer, my Army friend will know it. But he’s not. I’ve known Cabe all my life. It’s his brother Eddie that’s the killer.”