Mel yanked some stuff from the fridge, slammed the door shut, cracked eggs and started to whip them like they were her mortal enemies. He stood up. There was no way he'd talk to her about anything at the moment. He'd inform her that Edie wasn't coming for dinner later.
-o0o-
Thursday, November 15th
“DAWG!” ELIZA YELLED AS she came running towards him, and he picked her up in a hug. “I missed you at girls' night. Daddy said you were doing club stuff.”
“Yeah,” he agreed and smiled at her. “He did. I’m sorry.”
“Maybe next time?”
“Maybe.” He looked at Eliza, who looked suspicious, and with a sigh he decided it was better to be as honest as possible. Kids usually figured out a lot more than you thought they would. “Edie's angry at me right now.”
“Because you missed girls' night?”
“No,” he chuckled. “I... hurt her.”
“Did you hit her?” She was staring at him.
“No! Jesus, sweetpea, I wouldn't do that.” He put her on the bar counter. He couldn't have his baby girl think he hit Edie. “I hurt her feelings. Do you know what that means?”
“I think so.” She looked at him accusingly with those big blue eyes. “So there wasn't any club business?”
“There was, I had club stuff then.” He figured there wasn't much point with throwing his prez and Edie under the bus for lying to her. “But it might be a while before Edie forgives me, so I don't think she wants me at your girls' nights.”
Eliza looked at him, rubbed her nose with her hand and sniveled a little.
“I wish you were friends again. Did you say sorry?”
She looked at him with her wonderful, big blue eyes that looked just like Edie's. He couldn't help smiling and gave her forehead a kiss.
“I'll do what I can. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“What did you watch?” He asked in an attempt to make her feel better again.
“Beauty and the Beast.”
Ouch! He hoped it hadn’t been too hard on Edie. Or maybe he hoped she’d cared at little least. Jesus fucking christ that woman had him all twisted up.
Later that night he was sitting outside The Rover. He chickened out before she got off work and went home. He stomped around for half an hour before going back outside, but this time he decided to wait outside her place. He’d promised Brick, he knew he had, but... he was worried about her. And when he heard the truck he walked over to the door.
“Edie,” he said when he saw her, and the look on her face when she noticed him made him hate himself even more.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
“I know, but...”
“No. No fucking 'but'. You’re not supposed to be here. You were gonna leave me alone and let me talk to you when I wanted to. If I wanted to. You were not gonna stalk me outside my fucking apartment!”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? Do you even know what you’re supposed to be sorry for? Because I don’t think so.”
He hadn't expected this to hurt this much. His heart was aching in a way he'd never felt. It was hard to breathe. He wasn't sure what he had expected when he came here, but not this. Not her looking at him the way she was—and at the same time he knew he deserved this. Every fucking hateful look she was giving him and every word that came out of her mouth. He deserved it.
“I’m sorry I did that.”
“Again, sorry you did what? Sneaking out the morning after fucking me or fucking me in the first place?”
That pissed him off. He knew that it was a bad idea to lash out at her, but he wasn't gonna stand there and hear her say shit like that.
“I'm sorry about all of it, but that wasn’t fucking. I’ve fucked a lot and I know what fucking is and we did not fuck!”
“Yeah, we did!” She was glaring at him, but it was obvious that she was close to tears. “Might not have been as inventive as you’re used to since I was the only pussy in the bed, but that was fucking.”
He walked up to her, grabbed her face and stared her into the eyes. “That was not fucking and you are not pussy.”
“You could’ve fooled me.” The first tear left her eye and ran down her cheek and hit the side of his hand. “You’re not the first guy who’s fucked me but you’re the first who left me before I even woke up. I’d say that makes me the very definition of pussy.”
“Edie. I’m sorry, I... I took advantage of you and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it like that. But that wasn’t fucking.”
“You’re really presumptuous, aren’t you? Just 'cause you’re the one who got to sneak out of the bed doesn’t mean you’re the only one who was using someone.” Despite the tears running down her cheeks, she sounded furious. “Let go.”
That hurt and he took a deep breath, but didn’t let her go. He wanted to know what the hell she meant by 'using'.
“What?”
“Let go of me, Dawg.”
He let go of her face, but grabbed her wrist instead. “Whatta you mean, using?”
“I needed to feel wanted, feel anything, and let’s be honest, you’re a pretty safe bet when it comes to getting some.”
He stared at her. Somewhere deep inside he knew that this was just female bullshit and about getting even. Making him hurt as well. But that insight didn’t really reach his brain at the moment and he was so pissed he didn’t even know what to say. Edie didn’t shut up, though.
“So no hard feelings about you fucking me and taking advantage of me. It was a mutual thing. We both got what we needed.”
She ripped her wrist out of his grip and ran through the door leading up to her apartment. He stared after her. ‘Mutual thing’ sure, what he'd felt had been mutual, but it wasn’t fucking. What he had felt wasn't something you felt alone and he knew she'd felt it too. This was just her trying to push him away, but he wasn’t gonna go after her right now. He’d give her this, and he needed to get the fuck away from her before he did something stupid. So he got on the bike, but didn't even have a chance to start it before his phone rang. It was Brick.
“We got him. Get to the cottage.”
He didn't even have to ask what it was about. Two weeks earlier they'd gotten info from Bull's old army buddy about the bomb. Like most bombs this had a clear signature and they'd had a solid lead on who the maker was. He'd gone underground and according to their sources it was likely that it had been just a job for him to get money. Either way, he could lead them to the source, and they needed something to show to the cartel and Roberto, and they needed it now.
-o0o-
Brick was waiting for Bull and Mech outside the cottage, and to himself he had to admit that he was almost perversely pleased about what was about to happen.
Roberto was pissed, which meant that the entire cartel was pissed. They didn't want their mules to be noticed, and now the club’s side business – which is how they viewed the strip clubs – had caught the authorities’ attention. They didn't like attention. The also didn't like that The Marauders hadn't, in their words, taken care of the problem. It was a sign of weakness to them, and this would be something to bring to the next discussion.
When the van showed up, he noticed Dawg and Sisco on their bikes behind it. Bear, Bucket, Wolf and Mace were already waiting inside. In other words, the entire club had arrived.
Dawg and Bear opened up the back doors of the van, and seconds later they came walking, dragging a gagged man between them. He held up a hand to indicate that he wanted them to stop in front of him. When they did, he leaned forward until he was face to face with the man who he now knew was Jerome Palmer.
“You and I are going to have a talk. How quick that talk is depends on how helpful you are.”
Jerome nodded and tried to say something behind the tape covering his mouth. When he was dragged through the door and saw what they had waiting for him he started to scream. Dawg and Bear sat him down on a chair and pulled off the tape.
“I di
dn't know!” He immediately screamed, spit spraying in front of him, snot running from his nose and tears filling his eyes. “They didn't say what they were going to use it for.”
Brick took a step back and nodded at Bull who immediately stepped forward, grabbed a pair of pliers and smiled at Jerome. Bull was a huge guy, way more than six feet and wide shoulders. He wasn't the most fit guy, but he looked crazy. Mainly because he was. His hair was trimmed short, his eyes dark blue, and having that guy standing in front of you holding a pair of pliers was scary enough for most people in Greenville to start talking before Bull even opened his mouth. They knew who he was.
“I'm sure you thought they were just going into the mining business,” Bull said snapped a few times with the pliers in front of Jerome's face. “What I'm more interested in, is who they are.”
Jerome's eyes were fixed on the tool in Bull's hand and then he started to shake violently.
“Phoenix Águilas. I did the bomb for the Phoenix Águilas.”
-o0o-
Bull sat down next to Dawg at the clubhouse. He'd gotten a blowjob when they came back from the warehouse and should really go home. To his wife and his kid. He just didn't have the energy to face Angie. And he didn't want to be anywhere near her or his kids when he was this worked up. The blowjob had taken care of some of it, but he was still... wired.
Dawg looked really looked like shit. He was trying to figure out what the main problem was for the kid. Sure, it had been bloody, but he didn't think that was it. He'd looked pretty shit even before they started working on Jerome. Mace and Mech were currently burying Jerome Palmer in the desert. The cops would never find him, and that's the way they wanted it. As long as the cops kept looking for a buried man, the Marauders could look for the Phoenix Águilas in peace.
When Dawg completely ignored the lightly dressed girl pouring him a drink while trying to flirt with him, Bull got it. And he also realized that he owed Bear twenty bucks.
“What are you going to do about it?”
Dawg looked at him in confusion. “What am I going to do about what?”
“Edie.”
“Think I'll give her some more time,” he said with a tired smile. “I talked to her today and... I'll wait a little longer.”
“You pissed her off again. Didn't you?” Bull chuckled.
“Yup.” Dawg emptied his glass. “Sure did.”
“That's a good sign.”
“How the fuck is that a good sign?”
“She gives a shit.” Bull argued with himself for a few seconds and then just went for it. “Debbie stopped arguing when she stopped caring.”
“And Angie?”
That was below the belt and both of them knew it.
“It's not the same. Angie never argued.”
“Sorry,” Dawg said and shook his head.
Brick came bursting out of his office, slammed a glass on the counter, poured whisky into it and emptied it. Filled it up a second time and emptied it again.
“Pissed?” Bull said, and he heard Dawg swallowing a laugh.
“Talked to Roberto,” Brick said and filled the glass again. “He wants us to lay low.”
“Lay low?” Dawg asked.
“No retaliation, nothing. Basically roll over on our back, spread our legs and take it like pussies until he says otherwise.”
“Why? What the fuck would be the purpose of that?”
“They're gonna check on their side to see if the Phoenix Águilas have backers down there. I think it's because they're a Mexican gang. Like every fucking Mexican in the US knows a cartel!”
“Kidding me?” Bull said.
Phoenix Águilas was a gang. Admittedly a Mexican gang, but it was just kids, no way would they have cartel backers; they would've heard about that. They were small time crooks, and until Jerome told them they were the ones who'd ordered the bomb, they'd mostly been a nuisance. They had street hookers, a couple of low class strip clubs and, like all street gangs, wanted in on the pot trade. He also suspected that they might be dabbling in trafficking, but he was less sure about that.
Neither he or Brick had believed Jerome initially, but after the interrogation they knew he was telling the truth. It was Phoenix Águilas, and their leader had paid him in person. There was no doubt it was them, and now the cartel was stopping them from doing what they needed to do.
“What the fuck,” Dawg said with a tired voice and leaned his head on the bar. “They're the ones who nagged like a mom that we needed to take care of business and when we do, they want us to back off.”
“I did point that out.” Brick downed another shot and reached for the bottle again. “More than once.”
“So how the fuck do they think we should keep them off our back?” Bull asked Brick. “What's stopping them from hitting us again?”
“Nada,” Brick said and shrugged.
Bull was actually pretty impressed with how well Brick was restraining himself at the moment.
“And for how long do they want us to 'lay low'?”
Brick shrugged again, still with the same angry, sarcastic smile.
“We're reopening the club to the public on New Year’s Eve, the shop on the 2nd,” Dawg pointed out. “They probably won't hit it again, but even so. Not even talking about what it looks like that we're not doing anything...”
“And that the cops could get to them before us!” Brick interrupted him. “I know that, all of it, and I pointed it out to them as well.”
Brick finally sat down on a chair.
“We're gonna have to inform the other presidents now and not wait until the meet in January. Even if we can't act, we have to at least be on our guard,” Bull said.
He was so pissed. He fucking hated it when the cartel butted in on what should be their own damn business.
“We call the presidents, I'll talk to the cartel again and we put Mech on digging so we're prepared.”
“I'm heading out,” Dawg said and got up. “I've had enough of this fucking day. A word?”
The last part was directed at Brick. He guessed that it had something to do with Edie, and Bull didn't want anymore drama today. He emptied his glass, texted Angie to let her know he'd be home in the afternoon and went to his room to get some sleep.
-o0o-
Saturday, December 22nd
I HADN'T SEEN DAWG since he waited for me outside my place over a month earlier, and I hadn’t asked about him. I’d avoided the clubhouse, and the few times that I'd been there, he hadn’t. Or at least not in the public areas. Brick had called me to tell me that Dawg had told him that he talked to me, and that he'd made damn sure that it was clear to Dawg that he'd take his balls if he tried something like that again.
This time I was bound to run into him; it was the Christmas party, they had one every year just before Christmas to celebrate Brick's birthday. It was to be held in the newly renovated Booty Bank. In short, it was a big thing, and according to Brick there was no fucking way in hell I’d be allowed to miss it. He’d even called my boss to make sure I wasn’t working that day or the day after.
Lanie had made me promise that I’d dress up, and when she four days earlier realized I hadn’t planned on going shopping for the event, she forced me. I ended up with a dress I actually liked. It was a 40’s thing in burgundy with short sleeves and a slim waist. I looked nice in it. She bought shoes to match it. High heels. I did not do well in high heels but they were vintage Mary Janes with a reasonable heel, so I thought it would be okay. Besides, she seemed to be deaf to all my objections. Finally, she'd stared at me.
“I’m sick of you glooming. You’re gonna dress up, look great, feel great and you’re gonna go in there with you head high and a ‘fuck you’ attitude. That clear?”
I could only nod, but I liked her attitude towards this. The next stop was her house, and she forced some earrings and a necklace on me. I didn’t even want to know what they were worth.
And on the evening in question, I walked into the Booty Bank with a tight
knot in my stomach. The first one who picked me up and gave me a hug was Mech. After telling me how fucking great I looked, he shoved me over to Lynn, who was standing next to Angela.
Angela was one of those Old Ladies I hadn’t met much. She'd been at the hog roast, but at the time I didn't fully get who was who, and it had taken me quite some time before I realized that she was actually Bull's wife. I had pegged him for single since... well, he got around. Lanie had made it very clear that it wasn't any of our business and that you never butted in on other relationships. Just another reason for me to stay the fuck away from bikers, as far as I was concerned.
“Oh my!” Lynn smiled. “You look amazing. I bet your sister dressed you up.”
“Is it that obvious?” I said and took the Coke bottle Lynn was handing me. By now, everyone seemed to know I didn't drink.
“You look like class, and few people can dress up like class as well as your sister can.”
“True.”
“You look lovely,” Angela smiled. “And I love your new hair cut.”
“Thank you,” I said and noticed Natalie, Bucket's girlfriend, coming over.
She was glaring at the sweetbutts as she crossed the room. Her, I didn’t like. I’d talked to her twice, and that was more than enough.
“You look nice,” she said to me, but I doubted that she meant it, and taking into account what she was wearing, I considered her disproval as a compliment.
She was wearing a skintight dress, extremely high heels and enough make up to fit into “Priscilla Queen of the Desert”. I didn’t really get her; she didn’t even seem to like Bucket all that much, but she hung around anyway, and treated most other girls, except the Old Ladies, like they were dog shit.
Arrow of Time (Marauders) Page 18
