Stone - Big Girls & Bad Boys

by D. H. Cameron

  “Consider it done,” he said and then headed for the fridge. “Anyone?” Stone asked. We all said yes. We drank for awhile forgetting about the drama. We talked about other things. Bikes, runs, our pasts, whatever. At one point, Ginger suggested we take a powder together. I knew what that meant. She wanted information. Once we were in the bathroom by the offices, she jumped in right away.

  “So, you traded up to a better model, I see,” she said.

  “I guess you’d know,” I replied. I remembered the day I caught her, Rocky and Stone coming out of Rocky’s office. Ginger had had a bit of fun with Stone.

  “I guess I would. Good for you, Maria. Bobby’s a punk. Stone’s a real man,” she told me.

  “I agree, even more so now,” I replied.

  “I won’t...indulge anymore. Stone’s yours and I respect that,” Ginger told me. I smiled.

  “Good. Otherwise I’d have to knock you down and sit on you,” I joked. Ginger laughed.

  “Is it serious?” she wondered.

  “I think so. It hasn’t been that long, not even a week, but I really like Stone. He’s...not what I’m used to,” I said.

  “And that’s a good thing?” Ginger asked.

  “Very good,” I said. She hugged me and then we took care of business before we left. Once we got back, we found that Stone had rearranged the furniture. His leather chair was now next to Rocky’s and Bobby’s was shoved aside out of the circle.

  “I don’t get why you drink that stinky brown beer, but these cigars are pretty good,” Rocky was telling him.

  “Life’s too short to drink bad beer,” Stone replied.

  “That’s what I’m saying. I’ll take my Bud over that motor oil you drink any day,” Rocky said.

  “Fucking old dudes,” Stone joked.

  “Fucking young punks,” Rocky said. They both laughed and took a puff off their dark colored cigars. “Good fucking cigar, though,” Rocky added.

  “Looks like you two are getting along,” Ginger observed.

  “Yeah, my VP and I see eye to eye on a lot of things. I don’t like his taste in brews but otherwise, this dude gets it. He prefers the old ways. He honors the lifestyle,” Rocky said.

  “He told me he was a renaissance man,” I added as I sat on the arm of Stone’s chair and Ginger claimed the seat on the opposite side of Rocky.

  “Renaissance? That’s fancy,” Ginger said and winked at us.

  “I guess I’m old fashioned. I like being a man and I’m not ashamed of it but I don’t have to act like an asshole to prove it. And I like women that aren’t looking to be just like men. I respect the hell out of a woman that isn’t afraid to be a woman. Like I said, I’m old fashioned,” Stone said.

  “I see how some of these young bikers treat their old ladies. Shameful...no offense, Maria,” Rocky said.

  “None taken, Rocky. Bobby is an asshole. I just needed a little prodding to do something about it,” I told him.

  “Good for you. You deserve better than that pinhead,” Rocky told me. This was the family I never had. Rocky was like a father but as Bobby treated me worse, Rocky grew more distant. I guess I knew why. A man didn’t tell another man how to live or how to treat his old lady. Not everything about being old fashioned was good. But Stone was old fashioned with sensibilities that are more modern.

  But things felt as if they were changing. Things were getting back to some kind of normal...better than normal. I felt a sense of optimism I hadn’t before. I wondered where the optimism came from considering the club was falling apart. Still, something told me things could get better. I didn’t see how but I hoped that feeling wasn’t just an illusion. I wanted the Knights to not simply exist but flourish.

  We hung out with Rocky and Ginger for a while but we didn’t stay late. Back at Stone’s house...our house, I guess, we sat out on the back porch. Stone seemed fine with everything but I was pensive. I was worried about him going with Bobby to drop off the guns. The transfer would probably go smooth but it was still risky. I knew why Rocky didn’t want to be involved with stuff like that. It wasn’t that he was getting too old. It was that it was too dangerous, though I might have been projecting.

  Rocky was a biker because he loved motorcycles and loved the life. He wasn’t interested in making money or protecting turf. He just wanted to ride and spend time with the Knights and his old lady, Ginger. That dream was disappearing. The Knights were old school, part of an era that was fading away. That’s what Rocky thought anyway and maybe he was right.

  “What are you thinking about?” I asked Stone.

  “Just looking at the stars, the ones I can see through the glare and smog,” he said. It wasn’t that bad, the smog anyway. The glare from the sprawling city did overwhelm all but the brightest stars, however. “I know you didn’t ask that purely for information. What’s on your mind?” Stone asked me in turn.

  “Is it that obvious?” I wondered.

  “As obvious as the reason. I’ll be fine. I can handle myself. Drop the goods off, get the money and come home. It’s that easy,” he said.

  “I’d like to think so. But what if it’s not?” I asked.

  “Look, if I’ve learned anything it’s that worrying about stuff you can’t control is pointless. I’m going, so that’s settled. You’re on board, right?” he replied.

  “Yeah. The club is my family. You have to make this right, make sure Bobby doesn’t fuck it all up. If it was just you going, I’d feel better. Bobby is a wild card. Who knows what he might do?” I said.

  “I’ll be careful and keep Bobby on a short leash. I promise. I’ll do what’s right for the club and for you and me. I won’t be the hero,” he promised me. I reached over to his deck chair and took his hand. I just held it, not saying anything. I realized suddenly how I felt about Stone. I didn’t just like him. I was falling for him. I should have said so but I couldn’t yet. I needed time.

  “Wanna mess around?” Stone asked, breaking the silence.

  “Just take me to bed and hold me, okay,” I told him. Stone squeezed my hand and rose from his chair. He led me to the bedroom and left me there to undress as he locked up and turned out the lights. I was in bed, naked, when he returned. I watched him undress in the dim light of the bedside lamp. Then Stone clicked that off and joined me.

  I rolled onto my side and he snuggled up behind me. His arms wrapped around me and I sighed at the warmth I felt. I wanted to be here desperately. I wanted Stone with all my heart but I was afraid to say it. We just lay there in the dark and I wondered if Stone was coming to the same conclusions about us that I was. Was he afraid to say how he felt? I doubted it. He would have said it. I wished he would so I could get it off my chest but he didn’t.

  I fell asleep wondering.

  >>O<<

  We arrived at the clubhouse the next evening so Stone, Bobby and the rest of the boys could get this over with. I followed Stone in my car. I had convinced myself this wasn’t a big deal. Drop off a crate, get some money, come back. Easy, right? That was until Stone pulled out what I called a bullet proof vest and he called a plate carrier. Steel plates in a desert tan carrier Stone strapped to his torso. Then he tucked a pistol into the waistband of his jeans. That made me worry.

  “You said it would be okay,” I said as I watched him get ready.

  “It will be. Better to have this stuff and not need it, right?” he replied. I guess but it scared me.

  “You look like you’re going to war. Why do you have that stuff anyway?” I wondered.

  “Zombies,” he joked. I didn’t find that funny.

  “This isn’t a joke,” I said.

  “Sorry. It’s a guy thing. You never know. A man has to be able to defend himself,” Stone said. I accepted that...it was a better explanation than zombies. I just wanted to get past this. I suppose having a bullet proof vest wasn’t going to hurt. I just hoped it was a precaution and that’s all it was. Same with the gun.

  At the shop, Bobby, Dusty and Enrique were similarly outf
itted. Dusty had brought along a van. It looked like the kind of van a guy would troll the local junior high school in. It fit Dusty perfectly. It was decided the Dusty and Bobby would ride in the van while Stone and Enrique would follow on their bikes.

  The Mikes, Little Mike and Big Mike, refused to be a part of Bobby’s plan but they had agreed to follow in Big Mike’s customized 60’s Chevy Impala and wait nearby...just in case. They had two-way radios so they could communicate. You could cut the tension with a knife as Dusty and Bobby loaded the crate into the van. Once it was secured, the boys made ready to leave.

  “Remember, that’s club money, Bobby,” Rocky told him.

  “Sure, Rock,” he replied as he climbed into the van. The Mikes were ready in Big Mike’s car. Enrique waited on his bike. Bobby’s girlfriend was nowhere to be found so Stone was the only man with an old lady to deal with.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” I said.

  “We’ll be back in an hour. I’ll be fine,” he told me and then took my face in his hands and kissed me.

  “Let’s go!” Bobby shouted. I turned and glared at him but Stone turned my face back towards his.

  “Ignore the little prick,” he said and kissed me quickly once more. Then Stone mounted his bike, fired it up and the entire entourage roared off into the night. I watched them go, trying hard not to feel like this would be the last time I saw Stone. It was foolish, I know, but I couldn’t shake the feeling.

  “Come on, Maria. Let’s grab some beers,” Ginger said as she came over to take me inside.

  “Yeah,” was all I said. We went inside, leaving the big roll up door open so we could watch for the boys. It was a nice evening and the cool air felt good.

  “It’ll be fine, Maria,” Rocky told me as he handed me a beer.

  “Thanks, Rocky,” I replied. We tried to make small talk but it didn’t work. We were all worried and anxious. I kept looking at the Harley-Davidson clock on the wall. Time passed so slowly, I’d swear it was broken. Ginger was tapping her fingers on the arm of her leather chair. I was curled up in Stone’s chair trying not to let the negative thoughts consume me.

  “They must be there by now,” Ginger said after a time.

  “I wish we had a radio,” I said.

  “Wouldn’t reach this far anyway,” Rocky said. We went silent again, Ginger’s fingers on the leather the only sound besides the insistent ticking of the clock. Rocky fetched us all another round of beer and patted me on the head as he handed me my bottle. I smiled up at him, grateful for the gesture.

  I was sure every car that approached the garage was them but as it drove by, my excitement died and was replaced with even more anxiety. The thoughts that went through my head when we heard a siren in the distance...I thought I might explode. This was killing me. I kept fighting off the horrible visions in my head. I imagined the Jamaicans were armed to the teeth with no regard for human life. I imagined them gunning all of the Knights down and taking the guns. It was silly but the thoughts kept coming back.

  Then finally, the white van pulled into the parking lot of the garage. Enrique followed on his bike. I expected Stone to appear any moment...but he didn’t. Dusty and Bobby all but fell out of the van. “Where are the others?” Rocky asked as he went to greet them.

  “I don’t know,” Bobby said.

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” Rocky demanded.

  “Things went bad. We got the fuck out of there,” Dusty said.

  “What do you mean things went bad?” I asked as Ginger and I joined Rocky. Bobby and Dusty ignored me.

  “They wanted to inspect the goods. I couldn’t let them do that. Dusty hopped in the van, I grabbed the cash and dived in the back. We drove off with the guns and the money,” Bobby said excitedly.

  “Who cares about the money, you fucking idiots! You left Stone there? What about the Mikes? God dammit,” Rocky exclaimed.

  “I got the fucking money. Jesus, Rock. I’m sure they’re fine,” Bobby said.

  “You stupid asshole!” I shouted and went after Bobby. I managed to hit him once in the face with my fist before Ginger pulled me back. Bobby came back at me but Rocky shoved him backwards.

  “Knock it off. Where’s the last place you saw Stone?” Rocky demanded.

  “I don’t know,” Bobby said, a hint of a smile on his face as he glanced my way. Dusty and Enrique were staring at the ground. Rocky grabbed Bobby by his jacket and almost lifted him off the ground as Ginger fought to keep me from killing the little asshole.

  “Where?” Rocky demanded. I’d never seen him like this and he was imposing. I could only imagine how frightening he would have been as a younger man. Bobby just smiled. Enrique, however, couldn’t stay silent.

  “They shot him. He was right behind me. The Jamaicans were unloading on us as we sped away and Stone went down,” he said. I felt like all the air left my lungs suddenly. I was gasping for breath. I felt like I might die. I was overwhelmed by emotion and fell to my knees, crying. Ginger tried to comfort me but it was useless. Stone was gone. My worst fears had come to pass.

  >>O<<

  The pavement knocked the air from the biker’s lungs. His leather and denim protected his flesh from the rough pavement but not the bones and muscle underneath. The metal plates he wore around his torso kept the bullet from doing any more than knocking him from his bike. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when he tumbled from his bike. He lay in the middle of the street, fighting to remain conscious.

  The van and the other biker disappeared, oblivious to Stone’s condition. His bike was laying on its side a few yards away. Stone attempted to get to his feet, to right his bike and get away. He stumbled, his ankle sending shooting pain up his leg. The Jamaicans had retreated but only to get to their vehicles. They came roaring out of the vacant lot where the deal was supposed to go down. Stone was only a hundred yards away. They would finish him off before going after the others.

  Stone tried again to reach his bike, ignoring the pain in his ankle. He grabbed the handlebars and tried to lift the big chopper but as he did, the night was illuminated by headlights. Stone turned and a cherry red Impala skid to a stop just mere feet from Stone. Little Mike opened the big door and shouted, “Get in!”

  Stone lunged into the car and even before he was entirely inside, the big muscle car was on the move. Its tires squealed in protest as Big Mike reached over Little Mike and pulled Stone into the car. Stone slammed the door closed and the Impala sped away, Jamaicans in pursuit.

  “We need to lose them,” Stone told his saviors.

  “Working on it,” Big mike replied. He jammed the transmission in fourth gear and floored the gas pedal. “Let’s see if those mother fuckers can do a hundred and ten,” he said as the car hit its stride. The headlights and gunfire disappeared behind the red Impala as it sped away into the night. Soon, the men inside were out of reach. But that respite wouldn’t last long.

  >>O<<

  I just stared at the parking lot as I wept on my knees. Ginger rubbed my back attempting to console me. I wanted to say it. I wanted to tell Stone that...that I was falling in love with him. I didn’t and now he’d never know. I wanted to...I wanted to curl up in a ball and...

  Suddenly, the red Impala careened into the parking lot, its tires skidding to a stop. I looked up and wondered if one of the Mikes might have seen Stone. Hope crept in. Then I saw him. Stone, stepped out of the passenger side of the car. I never moved so fast in my life. I almost knocked him down as I hugged Stone.

  “Ouch!” he exclaimed. I let go and looked him over.

  “Are you hurt? Are you shot?” I asked frantically. Stone rapped his knuckles on the plate carrier.

  “The impact knocked me off my bike. I hurt my leg too,” he said. I hugged him again, with more care this time. I had no more reservations about my feelings.

  “I love you, Stone,” I told him. He stroked my hair and squeezed me tight.

  “I love you too,” he said and then extricated himself fro
m my embrace. “I have some business to take care of,” he told me, kissed my forehead and limped off towards Bobby. Bobby saw him coming and took a few cautious steps backward. But even hobbled as he was, Stone caught up with Bobby.

  “You stupid fuckstick,” Stone shouted and then his fist met Bobby’s jaw. Stone wasn’t a big, burly man and Bobby was broad and muscular. It didn’t matter. Bobby crumpled to the pavement, shook his head and looked up at Stone with fear in his eyes. Dusty tried to hold Stone back but Stone shrugged him off. But when Rocky got between the two, Stone stopped.

  “Later, son,” Rocky told him. Stone nodded and bent over, hands on his knees. I went to him and Rocky quizzed the Mikes as to whether or not they’d been followed. They told him they were sure they hadn’t been.