by M. Robinson
“I wouldn’t send a boy to do a man’s work,” Martinez argued, shaking his head.
I didn’t falter. “How can you let this piece of shit into our territory and talk to you like that? If it was anyone else, they'd be layin’ on the goddamn floor bleedin’ out next to Striker!” I interjected not giving a shit anymore.
“Enough, Creed!” Dad snarled.
“No, Jameson, the kid’s right,” Martinez chimed in, bringing our attention back to him. “Where are my manners?” He took a long puff of his cigar, snubbing it out, blowing a ring of smoke in the air. “Let's hear it, son. I dare you to fucking impress me,” he added, gesturing for me to take the lead.
I glanced over at my father and he nodded. Pushing off the wall, I walked to the front of the room, feeling everyone's eyes on me. One pair, in particular, burning a hole right through my body.
I cleared my throat, making my presence known. “These four men.” I pointed to each of them on the wall. “Hunter, Cross, Cruz, and Felix are the men Striker was in alliance with. They’re from San Antonio, traffickin’ women from across the border. Sellin’ them off to the highest bidder. They wanted in our turf, seein’ as though Southport has access to water, easier to transport not only the women but also the drugs and guns. They wanted in on the club’s routes, to catch us with our fuckin’ pants down and our cocks out. Striker was makin’ it easier for them by handin’ them that USB stick. I didn’t know what was on there until this afternoon when Pops and I looked it over. After Striker left, I went in blind. I shoulda called in for backup, but I’d rather commit crimes by my fuckin’ self, only way I know who’s goin’ to fuckin’ snitch on me. Heat fell on me, but I got the USB. A bullet grazed my shoulder as I made a run for it. Didn’t get followed, made sure of it.”
“Unless you put them to ground,” Martinez mimicked in a Southern tone. “You made sure of—”
I threw four grenade clips on the table in front of him. “Two would have done the job, but four is more my style.”
He eyed the clips for a few seconds, then turned his attention back to me. “I personally would have tortured them until they gave up names. Instead, here we are with nothing but grenade clips. Rookie mistake.”
“You givin’ me shit?”
“I’m giving you a lesson, boy.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’ll be sure to remember that. The next time I’m wipin’ my fuckin’ ass.”
“On that note,” Pops chimed in, hitting the gavel down on the table. “Score, Devil’s Rejects four, Sinner’s Rejoice zero. Meetin’ adjourned. Diesel, get one of the other prospects to clean this fuckin’ mess.” He nodded toward Striker. “Time to get fucked up.”
Banter filled the air as everyone stood, and headed out the door, stepping over Striker’s limp body on the way out, like he was just taking a nap. I walked past Martinez, knocking into him like he had done to me earlier. Ignoring the shooting pain in my shoulder once again.
After everyone picked up their guns and headed out, leaving to get ready for the night, including Martinez who more than likely was too good to attend a party with a bunch of biker rednecks, I went and hung out with Luke and Noah to kill the time, mom must have come back sometime during the meeting. The boys were out back playing some ball, while she was in the kitchen with the other old ladies preparing for a night that promised to be nothing but a good fucking time, with booze, drugs, whores, and the occasional causalities.
The club always threw parties after business was taken care of in the meetings. Old ladies usually weren’t allowed to attend, but my father must have made an exception this time, probably trying to play nice with my mother. Making up for the altercation I knew must have happened earlier with Christa. She happened to be nowhere to be found tonight, which was odd since she was on the property all the time. I'm sure my father had something to do with her absence.
On nights when both my parents were at the clubhouse, Luke and Noah would hang out in Dad’s room. Playing video games and staying out of everyone’s way. Neither one of them ever showed any interest in the MC life. After helping Ma get the boys situated in Pops’ room at the back of the clubhouse, I joined some of the members outside for a few drinks. They congratulated me for my contribution to the clubs and brotherhoods well-being, wanting to hear how it all went down.
As the night progressed, people started scattering everywhere, the clubhouse was busting at the seams, inside and out. Everyone shooting the shit and getting fucked up. Colorful lights danced in sync to the music blaring through the speakers, filling the night air with a combination of rock, oldies, and blues.
People playing pool and darts for money. Snorting lines of coke, smoking weed and cigarettes while whores found brother’s cocks to grind on to the beat of the music. I made my rounds, flirting up new girls, gaining potential pussy, all while avoiding the chicks that I already had the pleasure of pissing off.
I walked back inside, sifting through the crowd, going straight to the makeshift bar. Stopping dead in my tracks when I saw them. Wondering when the fuck he rolled back in.
“The fuck?” I said to myself, watching my mother and that motherfucker Martinez at the bar.
Standing too fucking close to each other, talking in an intimate way. I watched from afar, ignoring everyone around me, shocked as shit at what was happening in front of my very own eyes.
“Creed! Fuck, man, you are one badass son of a bitch,” Phoenix greeted, patting me on the back.
I shrugged him off, focusing all my attention back at the fuckery going down before me.
“What the fuck, bro?” he asked, not understanding my sudden swing in mood.
I didn’t pay him any mind, too consumed by Martinez and my mother enjoying themselves like they were on their first goddamn date. My vision tunneled, the music muffled in the background. All I could hear was my heart pounding out of my chest with every second that passed between them. It didn’t matter that she was wearing her cut that read Property of Jameson, letting everyone know who she belonged to.
Including him.
He must have had a death wish coming in here and disrespecting my father, who I hadn’t seen all night. My mother was fucking gorgeous, but she was also taken and not to be fucked with, especially the way he was eyeing her with a predatory regard.
He leaned forward, whispering something in her ear. Her head fell back in laughter, bringing her breasts inches away from his face. Exposing herself through the tight black tank she wore under her cut. His eyes shifted down, and a devilish grin marred his face, it was quick but I caught it.
His words, “Very nice tits, if I remember correctly,” played over and over in my head like a goddamn broken record.
I shook off the thought as my mother swung her long blonde hair to one shoulder, grabbing a piece and twirling it around her finger like she was a fucking school girl, as she continued to speak to him. His attention hanging on every word that fell from her lips as if she was telling him her life story.
When the bastard laughed or smiled, her eyes would light up like a goddamn Christmas tree, the way they used to for my old man. Clinking their bottles together, eyeing each other, more laughter, more touching, more banter. I wanted to look away, I wanted to fuck off and get another drink, but I couldn’t. If it were anybody else’s old lady, I wouldn’t give a flying fuck. But the devil was seducing my mother, and that shit didn’t fly with me.
I saw him reach over to brush a strand of blonde hair away from her face, and it took every ounce of my being not to lose my shit. He let his fingers linger there a little too long, caressing the side of her cheek with the back of his hand. It wasn’t till he leaned in and kissed where his fingers had just been, that made me snap.
Before I realized what I was doing, I rolled up to Stone, who was on the opposite end of the bar. Without any hesitation, I pulled the Glock from the back of his jeans. Cocking the gun, making it over to them in three strides. Aiming the loaded pistol to the side of his pretty boy fucking face
.
“You sorry ass motherfucker,” I drawled out, pressing the gun into his temple.
“Creed!” my mother shrieked, taken back.
Stone came running over. “Creed! Back the fuck down, NOW! You don’t know who you’re fucking messin’ with!” He grabbed ahold of my injured shoulder, trying to turn me so he could grab the pistol.
“Urrrrrgggg! Motherfucker!” I growled out in pain but didn’t falter.
“We need to stop meeting like this, son,” Martinez casually said. Not fazed by the loaded gun to his fucking head.
“I ain’t your fuckin’ son.”
“Creed! Put the gun down, now!” Mom pleaded, reaching for my arm. I roughly pushed her hand away, causing her to stumble.
“You should really listen to your mother, boy. She’s the only smart one in your family.” He winked at her, only fueling my urge to splatter the walls with his fucking brains.
“Honey, listen this is all a huge misunderstandin’.”
I chuckled. “That’s exactly what it looked like, Ma, when his face was in your tits a few minutes ago!” I shouted, causing everyone around us to stop what they’re doing and turn their attention to us.
Phoenix and Diesel came barreling through the crowd, pushing people out of the way to get to me. “Creed, be reasonable, bro. Don’t wanna do this. Prez won’t fuckin’ like it. And Martinez won’t think twice about putting a bullet in your head,” Phoenix gritted out in my ear.
“Have that backward. Who’s holdin’ the gun to whose head?” I taunted not backing down.
“It is not what you think! Now put the gun down, Creed!” Mom ordered again.
“You stickin’ up for this cocky ass motherfucker?”
“He was just keepin’ me company while your father is off doin’ God knows what.”
“I know what, but that’s neither here nor there,” Martinez interrupted, baiting me with a snide smile.
“You got some brass fuckin’ balls, steppin’ in here, fuckin’ around with the Prez’s wife,” I stated through a clenched jaw. Putting more force on his temple.
“Oh, is that what you think is going on here? Believe me, if I was fucking around with her, you’d hear her screaming my goddamn name.”
“You cock suckin’ son of a bitch!” I got up in his face, my finger itching to pull the trigger.
My mother screamed, “That is enough! Jameson!” Hollering at the top of her lungs for my father.
“He isn’t going to hear you, sweetheart. Last I saw, he was riding off into the sunset with a brunette with huge tits on the back of his bike, heading up route sixty.”
“Shut your fuckin’ mouth!” I shoved the gun further into his head, causing him to sway. The look on her face alone caused the adrenaline that had been coursing through my veins to soar high, I couldn’t fucking see straight.
“Have you ever shot a man? Have you had the pleasure of feeling what it’s like to end someone’s existence with a bullet? There is no feeling like it. Do it, son! Pull the fucking trigger! Here, I’ll help you out,” Martinez goaded, grabbing the barrel of the gun, moving it to the middle of his forehead. “Right here. Right here is the sweet spot.”
I stilled my hand, squeezing the trigger ever so slightly.
“Do it! I don’t have all fucking night to die! Come on, Creed! Show everyone in this room that you have the balls to shoot a man point blank like your daddy! Do it! You pussy, pull the fucking trigger!”
“Creed! Don’t do this!” Phoenix pleaded, grabbing ahold of my shoulder.
“Creed! Creed! Creed! Creed!” All I could hear was my name being yelled in the distance. Echoing in my ears, driving me to the point of insanity.
So loud.
So unforgiving.
“Fuck you!” I yelled, my lungs burning from the anger I felt rising. Sweat pooled at my temples, my breathing becoming erratic. “Fuck!” I swiftly jerked my hand a few inches to the right of his face, pulling the fucking trigger.
Martinez didn’t even flinch. The bullet flew past his head through the air, ricocheting off the rusted steel beam behind him, and into who was really yelling my name.
“NO!” My mother’s ear-piercing scream resonated from deep within her lungs, echoing off the warehouse walls and through the room. Her body almost caved to the ground in unbearable pain.
I glanced over at her, narrowing my eyes. Searching deep into her petrified expression. I’d never seen that look on her face before. It immediately had my heart pounding against my ribcage, racing hard.
Her trembling hands covered her mouth. “What did you do?! Creed? What the fuck did you do?!” she bellowed in a quivering tone, shaking her head in fear.
Causing me to inadvertently stumble back as I slowly turned, trying to follow the sight of her horrified glare. My chest heaved, unable to hold back my hammering heart any longer. I could hear the drone in my ears loud and clear. Everything that followed happened in slow motion, like reels from a black and white movie, projecting out in front of me. The sound of the bullet replayed in the background.
I jerked back when the scene came into focus, the image that would forever haunt me for the rest of my sorry excuse of a fucking life.
I shuddered.
The gun fell from my grasp to the floor with a loud thud as all eyes went to the horrid mess before them. Chaos erupted, people running to and from the room one right after the other. Women screaming out in terror, brothers ushering bystanders out, pushing them to the doors, quickly. The music ceased, and the lights came on, only illuminating what I had done.
“Do somethin’! Don’t just stand there!” Ma begged, looking around the room. Black-streaked tears ran down her cheeks, pooling on the floor beneath her.
My world was caving in on me, my walls crumbled down, and the floor felt like it was swallowing me whole. Bile rose in my throat, threatening to exit my body at the sickening display in front of me.
My life as I knew it…
Was over.
Luke's eyes widened as he lost his footing, trying to remain upright. “Cre-ed,” he cautiously breathed out, looking at me with a gaze in his eyes that would forever be etched in my mind.
As if the man standing in front of him wasn’t me, his brother.
As if the man standing in front of him wasn’t his own flesh and blood.
As if the man standing in front of him hadn’t protected and defended him all his life, but instead a stranger…
Who had just shot him in the chest.
FOUR
CREED
I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the antagonizing expression written across my baby brother’s face. As his hands moved down toward his chest, so did my eyes, following the trail of blood that was seeping through his white shirt. He slowly lifted his shaking hand, placing it near his heart. Gasping for air, peering back up at me as blood trickled out of his mouth.
“He-ee-lllp m-eee,” he sputtered, reaching his now blood-soaked hand for me like we were the only two people in the room.
“NOOOOOOOO!!!” Mom fell apart. The terror in her voice ran deep in my being.
A mother’s worst nightmare came to life.
Before I knew what was happening, she was lunging across the room, catching Luke’s limp body as it collapsed to the ground. He was unable to hold himself up any longer.
“JAMESON!” she yelled, calling for my father. “DO SOMETHING, CREED! HELP! NOOOOOO! Please God, NOOOOOO!” she hysterically repeated, trying to stop the bleeding with her shaking hands on Luke's chest. Cradling her baby in her arms, rocking him uncontrollably.
I acted on pure impulse, my body moving on autopilot as I rushed to them, falling to my knees at the last second. Ignoring the instant sting the hard cement brought on. His body started to convulse, more blood spewed out of his trembling lips as he looked up at me with vacant eyes. I placed my hands over my mother’s, trying to help her stop the blood from gushing out. Searching to fin
d where the bullet hit him.
“EVERYONE OUT!” Phoenix ordered. “NOW!”
I heard people scattering around us, like a herd, leaving a path of destruction in their wake.
“Luke! Buddy, you stay with me, goddamn it. Do you hear me?” I demanded with tears sliding down my face onto his broken body, letting my eyes roam over what I had done. Quickly removing my cut, I pulled my t-shirt over my head, balling it up and pushing my ma’s hands out of the way.
I gently laid him on the floor. My eyes blurred with nothing but tears, making it hard to see what I was doing. “Stay with me, Luke. Do you hear me? Stay with me!” I held his face in my hands, blood smearing on his cheeks. “Fight! Fucking fight!”
I ripped his shirt open and found where he had been hit. Discovering the gaping hole right above his heart. Hastily shoving my blood-soaked shirt on his wound.
“Hey! Look at me! I need you to put as much pressure as possible on this, Ma,” I grabbed her hands, placing them back on the wound. She looked up at me with swollen eyes. “Now!”
Stumbling up to my knees, I tore off my belt. Immediately rolling him to his side to wrap the belt around his chest and pulled tight. More blood rolled from the corner of his mouth onto the floor.
“Luke, look at me. Come on! Open your eyes, stay with me.” I slapped his cheeks.
Nothing.
Silence.
I was shaking so fucking bad. My heart thumped in my chest, vibrating throughout my entire core. Every last part of me was dying right along with him. I’d done some shady ass shit, been in some life or death situations, and never been so scared in my fucking life as I pulled Luke in my arms, checking to see if he was still breathing.
Checking to see if he was still alive.
“Creed…” Mom wept, her voice broken and torn. Looking up at me with pleading eyes to save him. “God, please take me instead,” she pleaded over and over.
