Filthy F*ckers: The Complete Series Box Set

by Hildreth, Scott

  “I’m with ya on that.”

  Tank was in his late twenties by my guess, and had spent ten years in the military, all of which was in combat. He was average height, and way above average size, hence the name Tank. His head – still sporting a military crew cut – seemed to sit on top of his muscular shoulders, and he didn’t have the “V” shape that most men sought. He was simply big. And muscular.

  One of his massive biceps was adorned with the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor, and the other was tattooed with what I suspected was his unit number, and several names.

  I assumed the names were of Marines lost in combat, but didn’t ask.

  “Soon as your done finger fucking those fries, we’ll go check on that job,” I said. “See if my guy’s done with it or not.”

  “How many jobs you do at once?” he asked.

  “Depends. Sometimes one, sometimes five or six. Right now, Cholo’s keeping me pretty busy with a few, and I’ve got a couple others that I’m doing. Need as many as I can, though. Got a kid on the way and all.”

  “That chick move in yet?”

  “Nope. We’re moving her this weekend.”

  “Need any help?”

  “We got it covered.”

  “I’m serious.” He flexed his bicep. “I love liftin’ heavy shit.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  I’d always said you could tell who your real friends were by who showed up on moving day, and the fact he offered made me feel good about him being a solid dude.

  He grabbed another fistful of fries, and bit the tips off half of them in one bite. “If you decide you need some help, I’m serious. Just give me a holler.”

  “Will do.”

  “My Ol’ Lady left me when I was in Afghanistan. I don’t know, when I see a fucker like you settling down with some chick, it gives me hope.”

  “Fucker like me.” I chuckled. “What the fuck’s that mean, prospect?”

  “No disrespect, but you’re a fucking asshole,” he said.

  I laughed. “No argument from me on that.”

  As he finished devouring his fries, I considered what he’d said about being ditched by his Ol’ Lady while he was at war. I normally didn’t feel sorry for anyone, but I began to feel sorry for him to go through such a loss while he was fighting for his country’s freedom.

  “Suck’s about your Ol’ lady,” I said. “Leaving like that.”

  “Standard Operating Procedure for wives of Marines,” he said. “Seems they all do it, eventually.”

  I shook my head. “Damned shame.”

  “I want a woman who I can trust. Tough, considering I don’t trust anyone.”

  “You trust me?” I cocked an eyebrow, and waited for his response.

  He finished his handful of fries and then shook his head. “Nope. Haven’t given me a reason to yet. If you want to gain my trust, you’ll have to earn it. Suppose the same goes for you, right?”

  I pursed my lips and nodded. He was slowly earning my respect. In time, I was sure trust would follow.

  “C’mon,” I said. “Let’s beat feet.”

  “Sorry, Boss. I got to hit the head and drop a deuce. Be back post haste. Those greasy fries are goin’ right through me.”

  “I don’t need all the gory details about you taking a shit, prospect. Hurry the fuck up.”

  While he was taking a dump, I sent Sandy a text message and asked how her day was going. It seemed strange caring about someone other than Eddie, P-Nut or myself, but it wasn’t something I had to tell myself to do, which led me to believe I naturally cared about her, the baby, or both.

  She responded with an emoji of some sort that I wasn’t able to discern, as her iPhone and my Android didn’t communicate well with each other when it came to smiley faces and other like-minded shit.

  I grinned, pocketed my phone, and checked my watch. We’d been in the restaurant for almost an hour, which was a long time for me to sit in one place during the day. When I was about to get up and leave, Tank came out of the bathroom.

  “Take my advice, you’ll wanna use the women’s restroom if you gotta go.”

  I stood and shook my head. “I’m good. Let’s roll.”

  We walked outside, and no more than reached the parking lot, when Tank spotted someone leaning over my bike. Before I had a chance to say anything, he took off in a dead run toward the guy.

  “Hey, motherfucker, what are you doing?” he shouted.

  The guy, who was leaned over the gas tank, stood and turned to face him. His face did little to hide the fact he’d been caught fucking with something he knew he surely shouldn’t have been.

  Knowing that the man hadn’t done any damage, I paused to see just how Tank would handle the situation.

  “I was just--” the man stammered.

  Tank stepped in front of him, partially blocking my view. “Just what?”

  “I was, uhh--”

  Tank punched him in the gut, then kicked his legs out from underneath him. The man fell to the asphalt at Tank’s feet.

  “When a motherfucker takes too long to answer,” Tank said as he kicked the man. “That’s when you can tell a lie’s coming.”

  He kicked the guy in the gut a few more times, and he immediately covered his head with his arms, hoping to protect his face from any boot damage.

  Tank shoved his heel against the man’s hip, rolled him onto his back, and then pressed his boot to the man’s throat.

  “Don’t ever fuck with a man’s bike. Don’t look at it, breathe on it, take pictures of it, and you damned sure better not touch it.”

  “O-okay.”

  Tank lifted his foot. “Get the fuck outta here.”

  The man rose to his feet, looked at me, and then turned and ran behind the adjoining restaurant.

  Tank turned toward me. “Fucking shit head.”

  I chuckled and then shook my head. “Fifteen years of riding, and that’s the first time anyone’s ever got near my shit.”

  “Burns my ass when a man fucks with my sled.”

  “Apparently.”

  “Sorry I jumped him. Shoulda let you handle it, but that’s just how I roll.”

  I slapped him on the back. “You did good, prospect.”

  He didn’t know it, but he just earned a few points toward gaining my trust, and a few at earning a little more respect.

  Hell, at the rate he was going, he’d be running with P-Nut and me in a few years.

  “I’ll take that help moving Sandy if it still stands,” I said.

  He turned toward me and nodded once. “Might keep me out of trouble.”

  “Plan on it, then.”

  I always wanted a little brother to harass, and realized Tank just might be able to fill those shoes.

  With Sandy moving in, the pregnancy going without a hitch, Eddie healthy and happy, and Tank to harass, my life was looking up.

  Or, so I thought.

  Chapter One Hundred Forty

  Sandy

  Cholo, Lex, and Tank had just left, leaving P-Nut, Eddie, Smokey and me at standing in the living room looking at a stack or cardboard boxes. I’d minimized my belongings to personal effects and a few pieces of furniture that Smokey and I agreed would be well-suited for his home.

  Correction.

  Our home.

  “Relax.” Smokey waved his arm toward the couch. “Nut and I will get those boxes taken to the bedroom.”

  “I can get them, they’re mine. And, they’re not heavy.”

  “Gotta respect a bitch that’ll carry her own boxes,” P-Nut said.

  Bitch?

  “She ain’t picking up shit, she’s pregnant. “Smokey glared at him. “An, you need to watch it, Nut.”

  “Watch what? The compliments?”

  “Calling her a bitch.”

  Thank you.

  P-Nut shrugged one shoulder. “Didn’t call her a bitch.”

  “You said, gotta respect a bitch that’ll carry her own boxes.”

  “Yep, sure
did.”

  “And, I’m saying you need to watch it.”

  “Big difference between saying what I said and calling someone a bitch.”

  Eager to hear his explanation, my head swiveled back and forth between P-Nut and Smokey.

  Smokey put his hands on his hips and sighed. “You just called her a bitch.”

  “Listen carefully,” P-Nut said. “Gotta respect a bitch that’ll carry her own boxes. That, my friend, is giving a bitch much needed respect. Hey, bitch, get away from my bike. That, my friend, is calling a bitch a bitch.”

  Smokey narrowed his eyes and stared back at him. “I don’t see the difference.”

  Eddie glanced at me, grinned, and rolled her eyes.

  I smiled back at her, then flopped down on the loveseat and waited for the conclusion of the argument.

  P-Nut shook his head and then turned toward the kitchen. “You’re simple-minded, that’s why you ain’t seein’ it, Smoke. The difference is there.”

  “Where you going?” I asked.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Getting’ a beer.”

  Smokey cleared his throat. “I’m not done with this.”

  “Nothing more to talk about,” P-Nut said. “No harm no foul.”

  While P-Nut got a beer from the fridge, Smokey turned toward me. “Do you like being called a bitch?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t…it…I…” I widened my eyes and grinned falsely. “It’s…I’m okay. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  His lips thinned and he glanced down at the floor. After exhaling through his nose, he looked up. “Do. You. Like. Being. Called. A. Bitch?”

  Oh, wow.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  Smokey turned toward the kitchen and tilted his head back. “You offended her, Nut.”

  “Sorry, Sandy.”

  “Bullshit,” Smokey said. “Come in here and say it. Doesn’t count if you’re not looking at her. Apology from the kitchen while you’re sipping a beer doesn’t count.”

  “Who the fuck makes up these rules?” P-Nut complained.

  “No cussing in the house, P-Nut,” Eddie hissed.

  I felt like I’d joined the circus. As the sound of someone chugging beer came closer and closer, I glanced over my shoulder.

  “Didn’t mean to offend you,” P-Nut said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “But I wasn’t calling you a bitch in the bitch context, I was calling you a bitch in the affectionate context. Like when people say, that’s my bitch. Or, you’re my bitch. In the right context, anything can be said.”

  “That’s okay, it makes sense now that you’ve explained it.”

  He tilted his bottle of beer toward Smokey. “I knew you’d understand. He’s hard-headed, and he gets mad really easy about dumb shi--” He paused and looked at Eddie. “Dumb stuff.”

  “I’m standing right here, Nut. I can hear you.”

  “It was all true, Smoke. You’re a hot-head. I’d say it to your face. Hell, I just did.”

  Smokey waved his hand toward P-Nut and then sat down in the chair in the corner of the room. He looked at Eddie.

  Dressed in cut-off jean shorts, Chucks, and a burnout tee, she looked adorable.

  “When’s Dick get here?” Smokey asked.

  Eddie glared at him and let out an exhaustive sigh. “Richard.”

  He kicked his feet onto the ottoman. “When?”

  She shoved her hands in the pockets of her shorts. “7:00-ish.”

  “Tonight’s the night?” P-Nut asked.

  Smokey nodded. “First potential date.”

  “Oh, wow.” I looked at Eddie. “Tonight?”

  She grinned and nodded. “He’s got to come talk to dad first.”

  “That

  “That’s exciting,” I said.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Not really.”

  “Want some help with your makeup or anything?”

  She smiled. “Sure.”

  “I wouldn’t go too far,” Smokey said. “They might not be going anywhere.”

  “Dad!”

  “If he’s a shit-head, he’s not taking you out of this house.”

  “He’s not.”

  “According to you.”

  “He’s on the honor roll.”

  “Nerds can be shit-heads,” Smokey said with a laugh.

  “You’re impossible,” Eddie huffed.

  “I’m a realist.”

  “Can I stay,” P-Nut asked. “Just to watch.”

  “Sure,” Smokey said.

  “No,” Eddie blurted at the same time.

  P-Nut shrugged and flopped down on the couch. “Sorry, Ed.”

  “You guys better be nice to him.”

  “I’m always nice,” P-Nut said. “Your dad’s the hot-head.”

  “Depends on which context you’re talking about,” Smokey said, his tone thick with sarcasm.

  I glanced at the clock.

  5:30.

  I looked at Eddie and then stood. “Want to start getting ready?”

  “What about these boxes?” P-Nut asked jokingly.

  I looked at Smokey, winked, and then turned toward P-Nut. “Gotta respect a bitch like me who’ll make a prick like you carry her boxes to the bedroom.”

  He sat up and blinked a few times. “Did you just call me a prick?”

  I nodded. “Not a prick, prick. But a prick in the not so much a prick sense. I meant prick in an affectionate way. You know, anything can be said if it’s done in the right context.”

  “One point for Sandy, zero for the Nut,” Smokey said.

  As I walked toward Eddie, she turned toward her room.

  “He keeps track of everything,” she whispered as I stepped to her side. “And he forgets nothing.”

  “I’ll remember that,” I said.

  “We’re going to have to be conservative on the makeup,” she said as we walked into her bedroom. “Or dad will flip out.”

  “I know a few tricks.”

  “I wish I knew a trick to make him let me go out with Richard. I’m afraid he’s going to be a jerk.”

  “Maybe he’ll surprise you.”

  “I doubt it,” she said.

  I on the other hand, reserved hope.

  Because so far, Smokey had surprised the shit out of me.

  Chapter One Hundred Forty-One

  Smokey

  When the doorbell rang, I felt sick. It wasn’t the kind of sick that a pill or medicine could fix, either. It was fear of the inevitable. Probably the same feeling those sentenced to hang got as they were led to the gallows.

  “You want me to get that?”

  I swallowed heavily and nodded.

  P-Nut pulled the door open.

  “Mr. Wallace?”

  “Nope. Not Mr. anything.” P-Nut stepped to the side. “Get your ass in here and have a seat, son.”

  Sandy was sitting on the loveseat reading a book, and Eddie was cowering in her bedroom, ashamed of what might happen.

  Richard walked in, paused at the edge of the loveseat, and nodded slightly. “Mr. Wallace?”

  By my guess, he was six foot tall. His slight build made him seem taller, but when standing beside P-Nut, their height wasn’t measurable different. His hair was dark, and kind of all over the place, but a neat mess.

  Dressed in khakis, loafers, and a plaid button-down short-sleeved shirt, he looked like a dork.

  I stood and extended my hand. “Nice to meet you, Richard. Have a seat.”

  He sat at the end of the loveseat, turned toward me, and smiled. “I’d like to ask your permission, Sir. I’d like to take your daughter on a date.”

  P-Nut posted himself up behind the loveseat with his arms crossed, and his eyes fixed on the back of Richard’s head.

  “How long have you been driving, Richard?” I asked.

  He crossed his legs. “Almost two years.”

  “How long, legally? By yourself?”

  His shoulders slumped slightly. “Two months.”

  “You’re ba
rely eighteen years old?”

  “I turned eighteen two months ago. Yes, Sir.”

  “Do you live with your parents?”

  “Yes, Sir. I sure do.”

  “Both of them?”

  He grinned and nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  “What does your mother do for a living?”

  “She doesn’t work. She looks after my youngest brother, mostly. He’s four.”

  “And, your father?”

  He looked embarrassed. “He’s the finance manager for BMW in La Jolla.”

  “Do you drive a BMW?”

  His eyes fell to the floor. “No, it’s a Mini Cooper.”

  “Made by BMW, aren’t they?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  “If I let you take her on a date, what are your plans?”

  “Short term?”

  “For the night, Richard.” I said, my tone a little harsher than I wanted it to be. “What will you do from the time you leave here, until the time you return?”

  “We were going to try and see a movie, if possible.”

  “That’s a bad idea, Richard.”

  Sandy, who had spent the entire time listening, but acting like she wasn’t, lowered her book and began to outwardly pay attention.

  Richard did little to hide his disappointment. “Why uhhm. Why is it a bad idea?”

  “The movie isn’t a good place to get to know someone. Might be good for a third date, but not the first. Hell, you sit for two hours and stare at the screen, and then when it’s over, you don’t know one single thing about what she likes, doesn’t like, or what her taste in music is. If it were me, I’d take her for a cup of coffee, get to know her, and then take her out to the pier to watch the sunset.”

  He nodded. “Sounds like fun.”

  Sandy grinned, tilted her book toward her face, and appeared to begin reading again.

  I locked eyes with my daughter’s potential date. “Let me explain something to you, Richard.”

  He sat up straight and held my gaze. “Yes, Sir?”

  “I’ve raised that girl since the day she was born. She’s a good girl, and by the grace of God, she’s never been hurt. No broken limbs, no fractures, no operations, nothing. She’s never been hurt by a boy for that matter, either. Until now, her only concern has been her schoolwork. I’m protective of her, Richard.”