by M. N. Forgy
Addie nods and runs to the counter, pulling the bag open eagerly. I lean against the back of the door, and chew on my fingernails nervously, watching Addie dig the food items out of the bag.
Killing Augustus was a stupid, stupid move. More dangerous than anything I’ve ever done. What the hell was I thinking? Where did the courage and brass come from?
“Hey, look, extra straws to make caterpillars with,” Addie yells excitedly, holding a handful of straws.
My eyes widen, and my mouth parts at the sincere gesture; Bobby thought of my daughter.
***
Walking into work today, my nerves are on edge. I should have called in, but that would look suspicious, I never call in. There is no evidence that I had anything to do with Augustus’s death, no reason for anyone to suspect foul play, but if it had and they did an autopsy, a surge of adrenaline in Augustus’s bloodwork could come back to me. I take a deep breath and climb out of my Jeep. The sky fills with gray clouds and there’s lightning in the distance. I run toward the entry as rain begins to fall against my skin.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Wren,” Nurse Helga yells from the desk.
“Afternoon,” I reply, heading to the dressing room.
I walk in the room and find my locker door dented and yanked open, my stuff scattered all over the floor.
“What the hell?” I whisper, my palms sweating anxiously. Someone broke into my locker and rummaged through everything in it.
“Oh, man, it looks like you have been stolen from,” Nurse Helga gasps from behind me. I turn to face her, my cheeks turning red. I know I wasn’t stolen from. Someone was searching for something, possibly a syringe with my fingerprints on it.
“You want me to call security, babe?” Helga questions. She places her hand on my shoulder making me jump.
“What?” I ask. I was so consumed of what I was looking at I tuned her out. “No, it’s fine,” I reply, grabbing papers and scrubs off the floor.
“All right, well, I came in here to tell you we’re backed up and need you out here quickly,” she explains, walking back to the door.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll be out in a minute,” I mutter, exasperated. I should call Bobby, tell him about the mud prints, and now this, but that will make him tell the club what I did, and I don’t want that. Whoever was here didn’t find what they were looking for obviously. So hopefully, nothing else will occur.
I clean up and splash some cold water on my face, my nerves taking over my entire body. I am a sweaty mess. I wipe the beaded sweat already forming on my forehead and walk out of the dressing room.
“Dr. Wren,” Shane greets, nearly running into me as I exit. His tone is formal and unfriendly.
“Shane,” I respond, tilting my head to the side, curious why he’s acting the way he is. “Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yes, fine,” he remarks, writing on the clipboard in his hands. He gives me a fake smile before walking off. I sigh and let my head fall against the door. With the date we went on, and the way Bobby got into a pissing match with him, I don’t blame Shane for giving me the cold shoulder.
“Shane!” I yell, running down the hall. “Shane, I’m sorry,” I confront, catching up to him. He stops and tucks the clipboard under his arm.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” I continue.
Shane exhales a tired breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Look, Jessica, you are a great doctor and an incredibly talented woman, but you are not available, no matter what you may think. The way that guy was staring at you last night, the way you were looking back at him…” he scoffs. “Do me a favor, the rest of the male population a favor, and tell the next poor son of a bitch who comes your way that you are seeing someone upfront—”
“It’s not a relationship. I mean…Bobby and I…” I struggle to find the words, not sure what we are exactly. Shane huffs, licking his lips as he squints his eyes, glaring at me.
“I’m just going off what I saw last night. Considering how defensive he got right off the bat, I’d say you are taken, whether you choose to see it that way or not,” Shane remarks, shaking his head. “I thought the guy was going to break my neck just by looking at me, Jessica,” Shane complains. I roll my lips onto one another, and look down the hall. I was afraid Bobby might kill Shane too, so what do I even say to that?
“Are you fucking him?” My head snaps in Shane’s direction, my mouth gaped open in shock.
“What?” I ask, my cheeks fuming with heat.
“Are you fucking him? Because you both came back from the bathroom pretty flushed in the face,” Shane states, his tone calm and collected.
“I…” I struggle to answer, nervous at how forward he’s being.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Shane responds, giving a half laugh before turning to walk off. I clench my jaw, my hands squeezing tightly. Anger bubbling to the surface at his crude tone.
“Hey, Shane.” He turns, his smile arrogant.
“I tried to warn you I didn’t want to go on a date with you, that I don’t date pussies. Next time a woman says that to you, you might take the hint,” I smart, my eyes narrow in anger. “And you’re right. That guy probably would have snapped your neck. Alphas like Bobby tend to take out the weaker of the pack.” His face falls, its color turning a ghostly white. I smile before turning and walking off.
11
Bobby
“So he died of a heart attack?” Lip questions, sitting beside me at the chapel’s table. He looks like shit. His eyes are bloodshot with dark bags under them, and his bandage on his arm needs changing.
“Yeah, that’s what Jessica told me,” I explain, interlocking my fingers and resting my hands on the table. I hate not telling the club everything I know; it goes against everything I believe in. But Jessica asked me not to, scared for her safety if someone sided with Augustus under the table. I feel like shit not trusting my brotherhood like I know I should, but if I’m being honest, our club has had some shady motherfuckers waltz up in here in the past.
“Well, that worked out for everyone then,” Bull laughs, lighting a cigarette. I nod and give a tight-lipped smile.
I look over and see Shadow eyeing me suspiciously, one eyebrow raised.
Shit.
I look away and tap my fingers against the tabletop. With Shadow and I growing up together, we know the look and tone of one another when we are bullshitting. He knows I’m bullshitting right now. Hopefully, that VP patch doesn’t give him a big head. There was a time I stood up for him against the club when he and Dani got into some shit. He took a bullet for dating the president’s daughter and I was there by his side. He better have my back now.
“We got some wind that the Howlerz were buying guns from Augustus. I think we’ll take us a little ride,” Bull remarks, eyeing the smoke from his cigarette climbing toward the ceiling. The Howlerz are a small MC here in town. They usually buy guns and sometimes the occasional pot from us, reselling the pot and cutting us in on the payment. As a small club, they pay up front with cash, so we don’t mind them around our territory, ‘til now. Them buying from someone else while on our turf is humiliating. It was different when they used our merchandise and we got a cut, but dealing with someone else, we just get fucked in the end. We lose business and our street credibility with having another MC competing so close to home.
“I’m game,” Lip adds, pulling his pistol from his waistband. I cock my eyebrow at him.
“Got some anger issues there, Lip?” I ask, laughing.
“That asshole Augustus shot me. For what? To deal with these asswipes?” he yells, pointing toward his arm.
“Let’s ride, boys,” Shadow hollers, standing up.
Everyone gets up from their chairs, beginning to leave. I stand up, my chair sticking to the hardwood floor, making me kick it back so it will move.
Just as I reach the doorway, a hand clasps on my shoulder, squeezing with force.
“So what really happened?” Shadow growls in my ear from behi
nd, his voice low making sure nobody can hear him.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I reply, turning my head to look at him fully.
Shadow huffs, knowing I’m lying.
“Try again,” he demands, squeezing my shoulder, trying to intimidate me. I flex my muscles under his grip, dissipating the pain. He is strong; I give him that, but I have been working the weights here lately and can easily take his ass. I reach with my other arm and grab his arm, quickly twist it behind his back, and push him on the table. He starts laughing as I twist his arm harder.
“I get it. I get it,” Shadow yells, his tone of laughter gone. I pull away and run my hand through my hair, watching Shadow closely in case he tries to retaliate.
“I said nothing happened, so nothing happened,” I repeat, my voice serious.
“I think you’re protecting Doc, and I understand that. Just don’t let it get the club in deep shit in the end, brother,” Shadow replies, stretching his arm that I twisted behind his back.
“I had your back when you met Dani, when shit went fucking downhill quick around here. Don’t let that VP patch get to your head, brother,” I confront.
“What the fuck did you say to me?” Shadow’s head wrinkles in anger.
“You heard me. I didn’t know half the shit that was going on between you and Dani, yet I took a damn bullet for it. I love Dani like a sister and would do it all over again, don’t get me wrong. But standing there telling me what is going to happen after everything I’ve done for you, ain’t flying,” I shake my head, my jaw clenched. Shadow’s face softens as he nods.
“You’re right. I just don’t want anyone to get hurt or worse,” he admits.
“They won’t,” I respond.
Shadow walks over to me and slaps my back.
“I got your back, brother.”
I nod and head toward the door, declaring this conversation over.
Rain falls, slapping me in the face as we ride toward the Howlerz. Lip rides past me, coming in behind Shadow and Bull. He better chill out, or he is going to get more than a graze from a bullet. He is out for blood, angry he ran like a bitch from Augustus, but I don’t blame him. He was out numbered and didn’t stand a chance. He was smart running.
We pull up to a little storefront that has the Howlerz logo printed on the glass in brown and white. That is how you know they haven’t been around long. No club with a record would throw their club colors on the front of a building. Not only does it attract law enforcement, but enemies as well.
I back my bike into a parking spot and cut the motor. Thunder erupts in the sky as the rain comes down harder. Bull gets off his bike, puts his helmet on the handlebars, and walks to the front door, opening it and walking in uninvited.
I follow in and shake my head back and forth, throwing off the rain droplets clinging to my hair.
“Well, well, well,” Bull chants, eyeing the shitty-looking club. I’ve seen crack houses in better shape than this place.
There’s a torn-up leather couch sitting in the center of the club, a stripper pole in the corner with a cougar dancing around it, and what I think is supposed to be a bar on the opposite side of the room. It’s small and made of brown tile, with hand built shelves holding cheap whiskey.
“What are you doing here?” one of the men asks, pulling himself off the ripped-up couch. He strides forward, his patch reading Leo as he glares at Bull.
“Where’s Bain?” Bull asks, resting his hand on his gun in his holster. Warning the fucker that if he tries anything, he will not hesitate to shoot him. Bain is the president of this poor establishment, and the one who has to explain his actions of crossing us.
“I don’t know,” Leo snaps, tilting his chin upward defensively.
“Maybe the Howlerz should trade your worthless ass in for a hot maid. This place is a dump,” I insult, kicking a loose floorboard with my boot.
“You insulting our colors, man?” Leo grits, pointing his dirty finger in my direction. The worst thing a brother could do is insult another club's patch, or colors. Did I just do that? Kind of.
“All right now, just find us Bain so we can be on our way,” Bull intervenes, pushing Leo in the chest, causing him to back up.
“What can I do for you, Bull?” I look around Leo and see Bain. He is about a foot shorter than me, with dark hair and one streak of gray sweeping right through the front. But he is buff as shit, and from what I hear, he practices that karate shit.
“I heard you’re doing business with someone else under the table. Is that true?” Bull asks, tilting his head to the side. A cute little blonde girl walks up behind Bain, tying the front of her blouse into a knot. She looks up, brushing her hair from her face and winks seductively at me. I smile and wink back.
“It wasn’t anything personal, Bull. He was just cheaper,” Bain explains, snapping his fingers at some young guy sitting behind the shitty bar. The guy bends down and brings out a dusty beer bottle, opening it with his teeth, and handing it to Bain.
“I thought we had an understanding. You buy from us, cut us in on profit, and you can stay in my territory,” Bull reminds him as he plucks a cigarette from his pack.
“I don’t remember signing anything,” Bain smarts arrogantly. Laughing as if the joke is on us, causing the rest of his men to laugh along with him. I start to laugh along, Bull and Shadow as well. I stop laughing and reach down, grabbing my pistol from its holster, aiming it right at Bain, Shadow and Bull doing the same.
The Howlerz stop laughing immediately, their faces pale.
“What’s wrong? Something not funny?” Bull asks, tilting his head to the side condescendingly, making me laugh.
The blonde woman licks her lips, eyeing me as I aim a weapon at the man she just came out of the back room with.
“Look, man, let’s just sit down and get some shit in writing. That’s all,” Bain remarks, giving a half laugh. A fire rings out, making the blonde jump and scream. The cougar dry humping the pole runs off into one of the doors behind her wailing.
Leo looks down at his leg, blood seeping through his jeans.
“I like to sign in blood,” Shadow clips, aiming his weapon back at Bain.
“You fucking shot me!” Leo shrieks, eyeing his leg like it might fall off.
I aim my gun at another of the men sitting at the bar.
“Should we negotiate terms? Sign some more? ‘Cause I have plenty of bullets,” I laugh.
“No, that’s enough. We won’t go anywhere else. You made your point,” Bain yells, placing his arms up in the air. He is clearly outnumbered; he’s smart to give in so easily.
“Good,” Bull remarks, placing his gun in his holster.
“If only signing the paperwork to a new bike were this easy,” I laugh, placing my gun in my holster.
“Don’t make me come back here,” Bull threatens the Howlerz.
We turn to leave, Shadow eyeing Bain as we exit just to make sure nobody tries to be stupid.
***
Back at the club, we park our bikes and head towards the club house.
“That chick was totally giving you fuck-me eyes,” Lip states, walking next to me.
“Yeah, she was,” Tom Cat laughs, striding up beside me, limping from the road rash on his leg.
“How’s the leg?” I question, ignoring their observation about the woman flirting with me.
“Eh, it’s pretty nasty looking.” Tom looks down at his leg and shrugs.
“I’m surprised you didn’t try and take her home. What’s up with you?” Lip questions, flicking his tongue ring with his tongue, his brows furrowed down in confusion. He’s right. I would have grabbed that blonde and took her with me any other day. Just to piss Bain off.
“Got my mind in other places,” I reply, shrugging.
It’s not a lie. Jessica agreeing to go on this date with me has me fucking nervous as hell.
“Like what?” Lip questions.
“I’m taking Jessica out tonight,” I inform shortly.
I stop and smirk like a schoolboy who’s taking the hot chick to prom, and his buddies just figured it out.
“You are?” Lip laughs, patting me on the back.
“This whole time I thought you were just fucking crazy when telling stories about being with Doc. You were actually telling the truth,” he continues, shaking his head as he rambles.
I scowl at his confession and open the club doors, ending the conversation; otherwise, I might kick his ass for calling me crazy.
My mouth drops open and my eyes widen. The whiskey along the bar is along the floor shattered. The couch is over turned, along with stools and chairs, and the TV above the bar is busted in.
“Shit,” Bull whispers, eyeing the mayhem. Shadow grasps my shoulder and leans in.
“Could this be blowback from what you’re keeping from the club?” Shadow questions. I look around the room; the damage is minimal. Surely, Augustus’s men didn’t do this for a warning of war; it’s not their style.
“I don’t know, man,” I reply, running my hand through my hair anxiously.
12
Bobby
I slide my hand over my cheeks, wondering if I should shave before picking up Jessica. The scruff has grown just a bit past stubble.
“Nah,” I whisper, dropping my hands to my side.
My hands are sweating and my heart is palpating. I’m nervous and think I may throw the fuck up. I comb my hair back with a brush and look in the mirror. “Fuck that,” I whisper, running my hands back and forth messing it up. I look like a tool with combed hair. “Screw it,” I mutter, turning away from the mirror. Feeling warm, I roll my sleeves up to my elbows. I decided to dress up, wearing a black button-up shirt, and blue jeans that don’t have holes in them. This is my idea of dressing nicely. I close my eyes, trying to steady my nerves as I adjust the last cuff on my sleeve. Jessica has come a long way, emotionally and mentally. A darkness that once consumed her, now unveiling its hold and letting that light of hers escape vibrantly. I think this whole ordeal has changed both of us. The connection that I once felt is deeper. When I’m with her, my chest literally fucking constricts to the point of painful from the rush I get, but the feeling is intoxicating. I’m alive. When we’re separated, I don’t feel anything but dysfunctional.
