Filthy F*ckers: The Complete Series Box Set

by Hildreth, Scott

  “Hey, hold on a minute,” he said. “A minute ago. Did you call me a douchebag?”

  “Not like when you called me the B-word, no.” I chuckled. “I inferred it.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “Took you a minute, though, didn’t it?”

  He looked me up and down. “God damn. Do you ever let up?”

  “Rarely. It’s a self-preservation thing.”

  “Because you don’t trust us?”

  “Something like that.”

  He looked at my hands, and then glanced under the table. “You haven’t got a drink yet?”

  “I’m not getting one.”

  “We met at a coffee shop. People drink coffee here.” He outstretched his massive arms. “Look around you.”

  “You picked this place, not me,” I reminded him. “You haven’t been back to your father’s house since you barfed on the floor. If you had, I would have paid you there.”

  “I’ve been back,” he snapped back.

  “Not in my presence,” I said with a laugh.

  He shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”

  “You made a fool of yourself, and you were embarrassed.”

  “I ate too many jalapenos, and then grabbed a sloshing bag of piss. That shit ran down my arm. Nothing embarrassing about that, just gross.”

  “You stopped coming after that, I was just saying--”

  He sat up straight and puffed out his chest. “You’re full of shit.”

  He was full of shit, but I’d give him the benefit of the doubt. It was time to move on. “I don’t waste money on things like coffee. I’d rather eat.”

  He glanced at my car, and then let out a laugh. “Or get your car fixed?”

  “My car’s a long way down the list.”

  “You’re not going to fix that door?”

  “It still gets me where I’m going. And, it never rains this time of year. So, as long as it gets me from home to work, there’s no need to spend money on it.”

  “Interesting concept,” he said. It looked like an original thought entered his head. He raised his extended index finger. “I’ve got a question.”

  “Okay.”

  “How come you never cuss?”

  “I was raised differently. I don’t need to cuss. I get results with wit and charm.”

  “Wit and charm, huh?”

  I nodded. “It works well.”

  “So, you never cuss?”

  “Today, I have no need to. I wouldn’t say never. At some point in time I may need to, and when that time comes, I’ll do it. At least whoever I’m talking to will understand the urgency.”

  “Say fuck, and I’ll buy you a coffee.”

  “No.”

  “C’mon.”

  I was tempted to. Instead, I chuckled. “No.”

  He let out a sigh. “I’ll buy you a coffee, anyway.”

  I shook my head.

  He nodded and then stood. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to sign that sheet of paper. Then, I want to pay you. And then, I want to go.”

  He reached for his wallet. “Let me buy you a drink.”

  I pressed my finger against the piece of paper, pinning it to the table. “Do you promise to sign that after we’re done?”

  “Yep.”

  I conceded, and it felt good. “Okay. Get me something.”

  “What?”

  “Surprise me.”

  He grinned and walked away. A sigh escaped me.

  Being in his presence wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped. He was attractive, and so far, he wasn’t being a dick. It seemed he might be different than I expected. I wondered if his asshole-ish behavior was the product of me wrecking his bike, and of him being in the presence of his equally asshole-ish father.

  He was still a man, but if he wasn’t a dick, it was possible that we could get along while I was employed to care for his father.

  In a few moments, he returned.

  He placed a cup in front of me. “Did you look at the bike?”

  I glanced at the drink. It wasn’t what I expected. A clear ice-filled cup with white liquid at the bottom and brown at the top, I had no idea what it was. “No, I didn’t. I was thinking.”

  He sat down.

  I took a drink. “Oh, wow. That’s good. What is it?”

  “Iced caramel macchiato.”

  I raised the cup as if toasting the subject. “The fact that you can even order something like this supports the air quote statement.”

  “I asked them what girls like.”

  I motioned toward the sheets of paper. “Sign those before you forget our agreement.”

  “You said after we’re done.”

  “Did I?”

  He took a sip of his drink and nodded. “Yep.”

  “Tell me, Samson. Before your hair was long, were you short and skinny?”

  He laughed. “No. It’s just. Shit used to happen. A lot of shit used to happen. Then, I grew it out. And, since it’s been long, nothing really bad has happened. So, it’s kind of like Samson, or a good luck charm, or whatever.”

  “You believe in good luck charms?”

  “I believe in not changing shit if it’s working. Kind of like you and your car.”

  “I see.” I took another drink, and studied him the entire time. “What kind of shit?”

  He scrunched his nose. “Huh?”

  “What kind of shit happened? You said a lot of shit used to happen, and then you grew your hair out. The good luck charm thing, remember?”

  “Club shit.”

  “What’s club shit?”

  “That means it’s not to be discussed.”

  I took another sip. “Not with women?”

  He leaned forward. “Not with anyone.”

  “Like Sons of Anarchy?”

  “You watch that shit?”

  “I’ve seen it a few times, yes,” I lied. I’d seen them all.

  “Kind of like that, but not Hollywood-ized.”

  “What’s Hollywood-ized about it?”

  “We don’t shoot guns from our hips while we’re riding our bikes.”

  “You wait until you come to a stop?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “We try to.”

  “Makes sense. It’d be easier to aim.”

  I took another sip, and then looked at the cup. I’d finished a quarter of it without realizing it. I set it aside and folded my hands together.

  “Pop says you’re a good nurse.”

  I sat up excitedly and then realized I’d done so, but it was too late to fix it. “Did he?”

  “Sure did.”

  “That was nice of him.”

  “He says nice shit from time to time. Ain’t very often, but he does.”

  “I like him,” I said. “A lot. I’ll be glad when he’s better, but it’ll be sad not to see him anymore.”

  “Nothing saying you can’t stop by and see him sometimes.”

  I realized he didn’t know the entire truth about his father’s heart. I forced a smile, and wondered if he could tell the difference. “That’d be nice.”

  We sat there for a moment in awkward silence, and I reached for my drink. After taking a sip of the sweet concoction, I met his blank stare.

  “My father left when I was young. I think being around yours makes me wonder what things would have been like, if, you know. If he hadn’t left.”

  I hadn’t planned on saying it, but somehow it just slipped out. Typically, I didn’t talk about such things, especially with people I really didn’t know or trust. For whatever reason, though, it happened.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Lot of the fellas only have one parent, and I’ve always been kind of glad I’ve got two. Couldn’t imagine it any other way.”

  I smiled and nodded, feeling curiously more empty than before. “Your mother’s nice, too. I met her over the weekend. I know now why he needs someone to care for him seven day a week. She’s pretty fragile.”

  “Yeah, toug
h for her to move him from the recliner to the wheelchair.” He took a sip of his drink. “So, you got a pen?”

  I watched him rake his fingers through his beard as I fumbled blindly for the pen, and wondered what he’d look like without it. At the instant I found it, he kicked his feet onto the chair beside him, locked his hands behind his head, and flexed his biceps.

  Dear. God.

  With my hand still out of his line of sight, I released the pen and dropped it back into my purse.

  “I thought I did, but I don’t. When we’re done, I’ll go inside and ask if they’ve got one I can use.”

  “So, is this your only gig? Watching my pop?”

  “Seven days a week’s pretty much all of them. I’d work more if I could, believe me.”

  He pointed to my purse. “How much you giving me today?”

  I had planned on paying him $1,000, but after taxes were taken out of my first check, I barely had $1,000 left. His having already spent the money to repair the motorcycle made me feel ill.

  “$760. It’s all I can afford right now,” I said. “When I get caught up on a few other things, I might be able to pay a little more.”

  He tilted his head toward the parking lot. “Ever ridden on a bike?”

  I loved riding, and that would never change. Hiding my excitement was impossible. “My old boyfriend had one,” I blurted. “We rode all the time.”

  It came out much easier than I expected. I hoped he didn’t try and pry more from me about the boyfriend, or the relationship.

  “Crotch rocket?”

  “No. It was an old Harley Springer.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  “What happened to him?”

  And, just like that, there I was. Forced with the decision to lie, tell the truth, or change the subject.

  “He moved to Pelican Bay.”

  “To Crescent City, you mean? Where the joint is?”

  “No,” I said. “Pelican bay. He’s an inmate there.”

  His eyes went wide. “He’s in Pelican Bay?”

  “Until he dies.”

  “God dayummmm. Didn’t figure you for being around people like that. What’d he do?”

  “That’s between him and God,” I said. “He’s gone, it’s over. Next subject.”

  His face went sullen. After a moment, he grinned a very shallow grin. “You go for a ride with me?”

  I was surprised he asked. As much as I enjoyed riding on motorcycles, I knew I shouldn’t – and probably wouldn’t – agree to do so with him.

  I looked at my drink. It was empty. I glanced up. “Why?”

  “Just for fun.”

  “A fun ride? They’re like unicorns. They don’t exist. Remember, I used to date a biker. He wasn’t in a club, but he was hard core. No butt, no putt. Ever heard that one?”

  He grinned. “Maybe.”

  “Gas, grass, or ass. Nobody rides for free?”

  He rubbed his beard. “Might have heard that one, too.”

  I glanced at the trash can that was sitting beside the front door, and then at him. I took another sip through the straw and got nothing. I stood. “I’m not sucking your dick.”

  “God damn. Where’d that come from?”

  “You’re not giving me a ride for any other reason than you think it’ll help you get in my pants. But. I can tell you now, that’s not going to happen. Nobody’s losing their pants, pal.”

  I walked to the trash can, tossed in the cup, and returned to the table. “Maybe it’d be best if I just got a pen, and we called it a night. It’s going to be dark soon, anyway.”

  He tossed his head toward the parking lot. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  “I almost forgot. A fun ride.” I knew myself all too well. I shook my head. “Bad idea.”

  “You go for a ride, and I’ll only make you pay two grand for the bike repairs.”

  My eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “Seriously? Why?”

  “I’m getting a deal on the repairs. One of my club brothers is saving me a little money.”

  “$1,500 isn’t a little money,” I said. “You’re serious? Only $2,000?”

  He nodded. “You go for a ride, you’ll only owe me two grand.”

  It seemed too good to be true. A no strings attached ride on a Harley, and I saved $1,500. NSA Harley rides were infrequent, if they were at all. But, there was the paperwork. Still looking for an out, but not looking hard, I gave my last excuse. “I’ll have to change the paperwork.”

  He shrugged. “Change the fuckin’ paperwork, then. Pay me tomorrow.”

  “You understand you’re getting nothing from me? I mean it. You think I was the B-word on the porch that day? You try anything, and I mean anything, and I’ll make you wish you got attacked by a spider monkey.”

  He smiled a dangerous tooth-revealing smile. “It’s just a ride.”

  His teeth were stark white, and I liked that. I tried not to smile. “Got another helmet?”

  “In the saddlebag.”

  I picked up the papers, put them in the envelope, and dropped them in my purse. There was no in between with bikers. My choice to go for a ride was either going to be a really good decision or a really bad one.

  The only way I was going to find out was to get on the bike.

  So, that’s what I did.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Pee Bee

  I stood with my arms folded in front of my chest and glanced around the shop. The fellas were all in attendance and everyone’s eyes were on Crip. I shifted my eyes to the back of Lefty’s kutte and drifted off to thoughts of Tegan’s soft tits against my back.

  Initially, all I wanted to do was cause her to go through the same pain I went through. In my mind, butt-fucking her was the answer. Now, she had me intrigued. Or something.

  She was very forthright about what she thought and how she felt, but on the other hand, was secretive and brief in some of her responses. The missing bits and pieces of information was enough to keep me wondering about who she truly was – and about her past.

  It was the first time I could think of that I wanted to know more about a woman. There was no denying that I wanted to fuck her, but there was more to it than that. For one, her biker ex-boyfriend doing life in Pelican Bay had me intrigued.

  “You fall asleep, Peeb?” Crip asked. The tone of his voice as he said my name brought me out of my daze.

  I rubbed my index finger across my eye and looked up. “Huh?”

  “Having a fucking meeting here, and it looked like you faded off on us. You need a nap? Want a blanket? I think there’s some animal crackers in the cupboard above the grinder. You can go lay down in the wash bay if you want to and nibble your fuckin’ snacks.”

  Everyone laughed. Well, everyone except me.

  Asshole.

  I shook my head. “I’m good.”

  “You find this boring?”

  “Nope.”

  He glared at me. “Think you could pay fucking attention? Is that too much to fucking ask?”

  “I’m paying fuckin’ attention.”

  “To Lefty’s ass, maybe. See if you can stay awake.”

  “Wide awake, Boss.”

  He crossed his arms. “What was I talking about?”

  I waved my hand in his direction. “I’m listening.”

  His glare continued. “What was I talking about?”

  Crip and I were best friends, but often, and especially in front of the entire club, he put me on the spot. Every time he did it, it pissed me off.

  “The Goblins bar fight.”

  “Gremlins,” he said. “And then what?”

  Half of the fellas glanced over their shoulders and looked at me. I felt like I was in kindergarten again, and Crip was Mrs. Kutler.

  I clenched my jaw and locked eyes with him. “You said we should keep an eye out for any of those fuckers wearing new kuttes.”

  “And then what?”

  I shrugged. As far as I could remember, tha
t was it. “That was it. At the first, you talked about the run up to Palm Springs. Before that was finances, and that bores everybody, Boss.”

  “That’s what I thought,” he said. “Pay fucking attention. I’ll back up.”

  He cleared his throat. “As I was saying, the Savages aren’t threatening us, but they are a threat. If you bump into more than two Savages on the road, and you’re alone, keep your head on a swivel. Beat feet to Pete’s bar or back here, they won’t bother following you into either of those places.”

  “After that, Peeb, I said I was going to look over Pete’s surveillance videos and see if there are any good images of those dipshits that were in there the other night. If there is, I’ll print them and bring ‘em in. I’ll post ‘em up on the poker run board. One of ‘em kicked over the Sporty Peeb was riding, so if you recognize any of ‘em, speak up. Next was…”

  He locked eyes with me. I returned a bug-eyed stare.

  “The club needs to grow. We’ll never open our books to prospects, but if you know someone who’d make a good prospect, invite ‘em to a poker run, or to a barbeque. Let ‘em hang around and see how they react. If it looks like they’d make us a good Fucker, and only if they’d live up to our standards, vouch for ‘em. We need size. I want to keep this club as tight knit as it is now, don’t get me wrong. But, I want the southern half of this state to become an FFMC territory.” He looked at each of the men. “One that makes the asshole of any other patch-wearing club member pucker when he rides through here.”

  Half the men raised their clenched fists in agreement. The rest either shouted or hoisted their bottles of beer.

  I wasn’t impressed.

  I liked the club just the way it was. Along with size, came uncertainty. With uncertainty, came risk.

  I didn’t like taking risks.

  “That’s all I’ve got, fellas. Any questions?”

  “Got a cousin in Palm Springs,” Lefty said. “Like to stay up there for a few days. If I ride up and don’t ride back, we still good?”

  “We are now,” Crip said with a nod. “No sense in you riding back here, and then heading right back up there to see your cousin.”

  “Appreciate it.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “Remember any of them Gremlins fuckers names?” Stretch asked.

  “Funny thing. The front of their kuttes didn’t have region, road name, rank, in memory of, nothing. My guess is they were a bunch of wannabes, and that’ll be the last we hear of ‘em.”