by Amber Burns
“He was hit over the range that the vest protected. None of the bullets they used were armor piercing,” I supplied.
“Just those two guys,” Tillman was prepared to argue with me, I smirked a little.
“They looked pretty skeezy,” I said. “The likelihood they could afford bullet proof vests or armor piercing rounds is slim. I’m betting the group just started as a bunch of fuckers bored with motorcycles. Kind of like what you assholes did.”
“There’s a little more to it than that,” Wilson grunted and looked down at the notes that he was taking. “I want a big group. At least ten. Van Cleave will be out because he’s going to need time to heal before he can actually ride again.”
“Who all are you thinking to go on this?” I asked, knowing I was going to be part of Wilson’s answer.
As expected, he nodded his head towards me.
“You and Tillman without a doubt.” I glanced at the man beside me and saw his expression go hard. “Martinez, Jefferies, Smith, Jones,” he was writing as he spoke and it was obvious that he was considering some of the people as he was volunteering them for a dangerous ride.
“Leave Redding out of it,” Tillman said with more than a little conviction. “He doesn’t need to be riding out in the heat.”
“He’s got to keep the shop running, he can’t do a ride like this that’s likely to keep us out late and have it open at a decent hour,” Wilson agreed. “Nguyen is new, we can test his worthiness with this,” he seemed to be thinking out loud now. “Hernandez and Coleman are definites, too. Test their worth. Miller is about as bad as you are,” he looked at me. “You got a feel for the guy?”
I shook my head, struggling to think about who he was referring to. I had met Miller a hand few of times throughout the past year.
“I know shit about him,” I admitted.
“You don't really make an effort to get to know us,” Tillman observed. I didn't argue with him, I didn't. I was more of a loner than anything else. When he noticed I didn't look offended he turned to Wilson. “What's the plan to deal with this?” He jerked his thumb in my direction, “Mad dog doesn't want the lifestyle no more.”
“I don't want to die,” I said with a rumble of anger in my gut. “I did your bidding on the regular for years without a care for my own safety. I've been stabbed and shot at enough, more as a free man than as a Marine it seems like.” I took a breath, “It seems like for the first time I've found some value in not running headlong into the pit of things. I don't want to lose all this shit when it just got good for me.”
I watched the surprise bloom on his face, he actually was speechless for a minute before shaking his head.
“So, you want to give all of this up for a woman? What happens when she leaves? What happens when shit ain't good enough for her to stick around?”
Words stuck in my throat, I stared at him because I didn't have the answers to the what ifs.
“You're not going anywhere,” Wilson said at last. “You'll stay here, you'll stay as enforce,” I started to object, but he raised a hand to stop me. “You’ll oversee runs. I want you to get a good feel for Miller, give me your thoughts on him and he can be your second. If he's worthy he can do runs, he’ll deal with outside nuisances like these Crazy Ace fucks. You can stay and deal with keeping prospects in line and making sure everyone follows our rules and laws.”
It felt like he was doing me a favor by cutting me this deal. I cut my hand through my hair, leaning back heavily in the chair, “Why not just let me go?”
“Cuz you just said you didn't want to lose everything,” he pointed out. “You might not realize it, or maybe you do, but when we first met, you had no direction. You were a loaded gun ready to go off, just needed to be pointed at someone. I was happy to oblige you. What we're dealing with here now,” he looked at Tillman as he spoke. “Is something else giving him direction. He's found something worth giving a shit about. Can't really blame him, he's still young. Women have a great way of soothing the savagery that is man,” he shrugged lightly as if we weren't discussing my personal life. “Stepping out completely isn't going to help you. You'll have all your focus and aggression on this woman, smothering her ain't the best-laid plan. Keep your cut, keep your job. Keep your allies. I'm not saying your relationship will fuck up like Ted’s did,” he shot a glare at Tillman. “But we fucking hold each other up. If you're moving into unfamiliar waters, it's not wise to do it without backup.”
“I've never really thought any of you as friends,” I admitted, even though I knew it wasn't the truth. Van Cleave was my friend, if I looked at Wilson hard enough, I knew he was, too.
“That's because you're fucking stupid,” he grunted at me. “We have your back as long as you have ours. The question here is,” he offered me his hand. “Do you want to leave the Boneyard Brotherhood?”
I had doubts now, some thanks to the man that sat beside me. But, Wilson was right. I had been directionless, if I cut this out of my life would I revert to the directionless path I had been on before? I reached out and took his hand.
“No. I want to stay in the Brotherhood.”
“Do this last run for me,” he ripped a sheet of paper from the pad he had been writing on. “Check out these guys, make sure they know what they're going to be doing. Keep a hard eye on Miller, and we'll put into motion what we talked about. Then,” he cleared his throat, “The next time you bring your woman in here you can introduce us and shit.”
“Stop knocking,” Tillman huffed, and he looked frustrated as he spoke. “You are part of the leadership of the Brotherhood. You earned the seat you're in, quit acting like a prospect.”
“I knock on the off chance that you assholes might bring women in here,” I stood and eyed my list. “That's some shit I don't want to see.”
“Don't worry,” Wilson pulled out a cigar from the desk. “Cindy prefers me fucking her on the kitchen counter, she’s not into getting it in the office.”
I didn't try to hide my disgust as I went out the door. I was a mental image I would have preferred to not have.
21
For once I felt lighter, there was no burning between my shoulder blades. There were no knots of anger in my gut. Shit felt like it was shifting into place. Maybe there was something to Wilson’s assessment of me. He had me pegged, and he had given me a direction. Dylan had just given me a reason to unload instead of pulling the trigger. Thinking of her made me want to see her, but I refrained.
While Wilson and Tillman had instilled this new sense of brotherhood in me, they had also planted an insecurity into my head. Was there a chance that I could chase Dylan off? Really this fear wasn't new, I knew it. But there was something to having another person point it out. Things seemed to be good now, but they might not always be. She worked a lot, the only times we were together was when she finished her shift then we either fucking or sleeping. I'm not complaining about the fucking. I just didn't have a clue how to connect emotionally with her. I wanted to, I wanted to do all that I could to keep her interested and with me. I just had to figure out how.
I would, though. I'd figure it out by meeting every one of the assholes that Wilson put on this list. It should be easy enough to do. The only problem is I only knew Martinez. All the rest I had just heard about in passing. So, when I saw Redding sitting at a table with a girl, I didn't hesitate to pull up a chair. They both blinked at me warily, though the girl probably didn't know who I was or what I did.
“I need your help,” I said to him without giving the girl much mind.
“Sure, man,” he straightened and motioned to the girl. “Madi this is Cole. Cole, Madi. He's the enforcer. He makes sure everyone follows the rules.”
“Nice to meet you,” she still looked wary but offered me a nod.
“Don't think about the shit with Jimmy,” he said to her with a slight smirk.
I guess that jab was for the cripple comments.
“Fucker looked like he was on the up and up on the surface. If you had s
aid something to me about your suspicions, then he would have been handled a whole lot sooner.” I gestured to the paper I had in hand before I laid it on the table, “I said I needed your help. You gonna help or not?”
“That would've pissed off Teddy,” he grimaced then shook his head. Yeah, Tillman would be pissed off over the results of what happened to Billings for a while. But no one was at fault for that aside from Billings and Tillman. “What do you need help with?” He turned his attention to the list in between us.
“You are a better people person than I am,” I admitted. “Tell me what you know about these folks.”
I gave the girl a cautious look. She'd been around us long enough, but with how Redding was supposed to be out of the loop on the illegal stuff, I was sure if she knew what we did. I watched as he shifted seat as he read the list, his dark brows down.
“Majority of these are my guys at the shop. I rely a lot on Jones and Hernandez, especially when it's a bad day,” he didn't elaborate, but I could figure out what he meant. “They're good guys. Why are you asking?”
When he looked up at me, there was genuine worry on his face. He thought they were in trouble.
“Wilson volunteered them for some business,” I gave his girl a pointed look before looking back at him, “I want to make sure that they're not going to be a liability like Billings. Plus,” I grimaced. “I don't really know them.”
Understand flickered on his features and he started to play with his beard, looking over the list again.
“Like I said, Hernandez and Jones are two guys that really take care of the shop. Hernandez is a beast with the books, something I'm shit at. I think he was an admin in the chair force, though I could be wrong. He makes sure we get paid and the suppliers, too. Jones does the scheduling, so everyone gets days off. Really all I'm there for is to make sure none screws up the cars or bikes we get in,” he shrugged it off even though I wasn't asking about him. “Jefferies is a decent guy, he has woman troubles and a few kids from what I understand. Smith and Coleman like to ride each other, they're competitive I mean. Miller doesn't really hang around the shop, but I see him at the gym. Nguyen is new,” he tugged at his beard as he considered the list. “Only seen him a handful of times.”
“They here?”
Redding gave the room a look over before nodding towards the bar, “They like to hang out at the bar when they're here.” He looked back at me, “This something I get to go on?”
“No,” I stood and gave him a nod. “No hard feelings, just keeping you out of trouble. Thanks for the help.”
“Uh, no problem,” he looked surprised, and the girl beside him eyed me hard. “You wanna get a beer later?”
“Got work,” I left them to hit the bar, trying to figure out who was who. I kept a hard eye on their cuts, so I didn't embarrass myself. I was used to being known and hadn't cared to know anyone.
Hernandez, Martinez, and Jones were clustered together at the end of the bar. Martinez was in the middle with his phone out, and it was clear they were watching some game. I approached as Martinez and Hernandez cheered, Jones, on the other hand, shook his head and laid down a twenty on the bartop.
Jones noticed me first, his brown eyes widening and he looked notably nervous. This was a reaction I was used to getting. He tapped on the bartop, and the other two men looked up. Hernandez tensed visibly, but Martinez only nodded.
“Hey man,” he set down his phone and offered me a hand. “Good to see you in one piece.”
I took the offered hand and nodded at the other two men, trying to dispel their obvious discomfort.
“Thanks, I need to chat with the three of you.”
“My dues are paid,” Jones said without giving me the opportunity to elaborate on what I need to speak with them about.
Martinez only snickered at him, “It’s about business, but not that kind of business.”
“We’ll be doing a run in the coming days,” I said to them evenly. “We’re going through enemy territory, and we’ll need to make sure that all your bikes are ready for the long run and able to handle the rough ride. We’re clearing the route to restart old business.” I watched as the three of their expressions turned serious as I spoke. Their eyes hardened, and I could see how they listened that they were going to make sure they were ready for the route. “Get ready and expect a confrontation.”
“Time to put assholes in their place?” Hernandez asked.
I nodded.
“It's about damn time,” Jones said looking relieved. “The shop generates a decent amount of revenue, but we’re not making the money we were before the shit went down with Jimmy. Man, if I had known what he was doing I would’ve put my boot in his ass.”
“It’s been done,” I assured him. I gave Martinez’s shoulder a pat, and he looked at me curiously. “We need to get ready for battle, we don’t know what we’re going up against, but we know they’re not shy about shooting first and asking questions later.”
“Did they manage to ask a question?” Martinez asked with a grin.
“They got off a few before we decided they crossed us,” I stepped away. “I’ll be in contact for when it’s time to get ready to ride.”
I spent the rest of my evening mingling with my brothers. It was tiring, but I found that as I drifted through the small crowd of Boneyard cuts that it didn’t make me as uncomfortable as I expected. Wilson was right, these guys had my back. While they were wary of me, I had a reputation of being a standoffish asshole, they didn’t brush me off. They listened to my instruction and asked questions about what we were doing with a seriousness that was appropriate for any man that’s been to war.
It gave me confidence that I hadn’t had before. I thought we’d be ready for a war like this. Crazy Aces didn’t know who or what they had been fucking with.
22
The confidence I had gotten from talking with my brothers seemed to dwindle when it came to the last name on my list. Miller. He was twenty-eight and seemed to be railroading down the path I had, though instead of being found by Wilson he had approached us. While he worked the shop, he wasn’t one to hang out at the club after being patched in. He worked, hit the gym, then home as I was informed by Jones.
“He’s an okay guy,” he shrugged lightly. “I can’t imagine joining a motorcycle club then not hanging out with the guys that you’re there with. If I remember correctly he was patched in last year and you know we did a whole lot of nothing last year outside of running the shop,” he spoke as he scratched at the black hair growing on his jaw. “He makes small talk, and he’ll get a beer with us on occasion, but that’s about it.”
“What’re the chances that he’s a cop?” I asked, just to be sure.
“Nah,” Martinez quipped. They had followed me out to the lot, seeming curious. “If he were a cop it would have come out by now. Not that we’ve done anything to draw the interest of the cops.”
“I hear they do that,” Hernandez had a cigarette on his lip and was toying with this phone. “They plant cops in clubs or look for snitches to bring clubs down.”
“That’s usually only done for big clubs that make bad names for themselves in their communities,” Jones argued. “You’ve watched the documentaries, right? They look for guys that are pushing heavy shit.”
I shrugged, but it was something. I didn’t point out my antisocial behavior, but I took their words seriously.
“Thanks for the help,” I grunted.
I headed out to my bike and prepared to go out looking for the member in question.
“You want us to come with you?” Jones seemed eager to help, and I cast a look back at the other two men. “Yanno, just to have your back?”
This was what the club was about, I didn’t have to go solo. I nodded, and the three of us mounted up to find our anti-social brother. Given the late hour, we found him at the apartment he lived in, spotting the battered black chopper he rode. When we pounded on his door, Hernandez offered up a six pack as a peace offering.
“What's up?” His eyes were narrowed as he looked at each of his, his expression seemed to darken when he took me in. “There trouble?”
There was something about Jones’ description of his character that had me wondering now if the police let us go with the drug charges on Redding and put in a plant.
“Nah,” I decided then that I was going to keep a hard eye on this guy. “We're planning a ride through and wanted you in on it. Can we come in?”
