King's Ransom: South Side Sinners MC

by BT Urruela

  “You sonofabitch!” Dimitri yelled, his fists still coming down with relentless fury. He threw two more commanding blows that dazed Robbie, and then he pulled a KA-BAR from his thigh scabbard and plunged the handle into Robbie’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He leaned in close to Robbie’s ear so he heard him well, and said, “If you even go near her again, I’ll make sure this blade’s turned the right way next time.”

  He returned the blade to his scabbard and stood slowly, pushing off from Robbie, and then he looked down on him as he collected his breath.

  “You were fuckin’ wrong there, Dimitri, goddammit,” Honey Bear yelled from Knuckles’ tight grip. “You got no damn right strikin’ a man who ain’t lookin’!”

  Dimitri looked past HB and Knuckles, and his eyes met Preach’s. They locked on. “He’s not to go near this safe house again, Preach. I mean it. He attacked that woman. Fuck if that’s what I’m gonna let this club come to. My father would be turning over in his grave, Preach.” His face was red, his neck veins bulging right along with his eyes. The anger was palpable. He jabbed a finger at Preach. “Turning over in his fucking grave, and you know it. Not again. Promise me!”

  Preach’s hands were up, trying to settle Dimitri, his tired eyes flitting from Robbie to Dimitri to Honey Bear and back. He nodded his head. “Agreed. Honey Bear, get him out of here.”

  “This pig fucker’s gotta let me go first,” Honey Bear complained, shoving his shoulder back into Knuckles.

  Knuckles slowly released his full nelson grip, and HB shoved off of him, standing. As he collected up his half-conscious friend, he looked to Preach, and then to Dimitri, and he shook his head. “Y’all don’t know the shit you done started here today. You know Robbie can’t let this one go.”

  “He’s gonna have to let it go for now, HB. And you do too,” Preach said sternly. “We have a deal to get done soon, and we need every swingin’ dick we’ve got involved. Now, tell me we keep peace until this shit is said and done.” He put a hand out for Honey Bear, but it went ignored.

  Instead, HB stabilized Robbie, looked at the three others again with his lip reared back. “Two more days, friend. Two more days. Then we see some change around here.” He staggered along with Robbie to the screen door and Knuckles quickly met them there to grab it for them.

  “Fuck off,” Honey Bear grunted over his shoulder. “Don’t need none of your help.”

  Knuckles backed away with his hands up defensively, and Preach approached Dimitri from the side.

  “You think he got the message?” Dimitri asked with a smirk. “That felt good.”

  Preach nodded. “I reckon he did. And I’m not sure we’re gonna like the repercussions.” He hacked a wad of spit to the ground and kicked some dirt over it. The both of them just stood for a moment in silence, watching as the screen door slammed behind Honey Bear and his heavy, semi-conscious crutch.

  “Maybe it’s time we split, Preach,” Dimitri said, and Knuckles nodded in agreement. “Maybe that’s what needs to happen to go back to who we used to be. Who my grandfather envisioned us being. Away from the kind of shit we’ve allowed to happen in that basement, in this club.” He shook his head, frustrated. “This was never his plan for us, Preach. You’ve let this get out of hand. We’ve let this get out of hand.”

  Preach nodded along, understood fully. “I hear ya. But it ain’t always that easy. There wouldn’t be any split without a lot of bloodshed, and you know it. The business, the club house, the patch on our backs, they’ll fight for all of it.”

  Dimitri shrugged, his gaze lost on the overcast sky. “Then maybe it’s time we fight.”

  “It ain’t something we need to think about now. We’ve gotta prepare for this shit with the senator,” Preach said, a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got everybody meeting us at the second house so we can ready ourselves.”

  “What about her?” Dimitri asked, with worried eyes.

  “Keep Trigger and Charlie here.” Preach motioned toward Knuckles. “Knucks, you mind stayin’ too, and Dimitri can fill you in?”

  “Too easy,” Knuckles responded, passing Preach a two-fingered salute.

  “See? Now, come on.” Preach began to walk and waved them on. “This shit is the real deal and we need to start actin’ like it.”

  Dimitri put a hand to Knuckles’ shoulder to stop him, and he looked him in the eyes intently. “Don’t you let anything happen to her, brother.”

  “I would never, man. You know that.” Knuckles patted him on the back and passed him a smile. “I got you.”

  Fifteen

  The day had worn him thin. And for the first time in a long time, he felt as if he could sleep without the aid of substance. His bed beckoned. But first, he needed to feed the desire to check on her and make sure she was okay. He knew she was in good hands, as Charlie and Trigger had agreed to watch her during night shift while he slept upstairs, both of whom he trusted beyond measure. But he was drawn to her still.

  Dimitri met Charlie, who was clutching a book as usual, at the foot of the stairs. His glasses sat ridiculously over his ski mask.

  Dimitri chuckled, taking him in. “You look like an idiot, Charlie.”

  Charlie shrugged. “Gotta read, man. And I can’t read shit without these things.”

  “How she doing?” Dimitri asked, nodding toward the cage. He could see through the dim light of the basement she was curled up in a ball on the cot and sleeping.

  “Been out the past couple of hours,” Charlie said over his shoulder as he led Dimitri toward the cage. “Doc was just here to check on her too. Didn’t even wake her. He put some antibacterial shit on the wound and everything … didn’t move a muscle.”

  Dimitri took her in, feeling the pinch of guilt in his gut.

  “She’s beautiful, huh?” Charlie asked, as if he were reading Dimitri’s mind.

  Dimitri nodded. “Yeah, she is. And I worry about her being locked up, with guys like Robbie in the ranks. Too damn many of them.”

  “You know we’ve got this, right?” Charlie passed a look of reassurance. “We’d never let something like that happen.”

  “I know. I’m just wondering how many guys in this club are thinking the same bad things as Robbie.”

  “We won’t let anything happen, Dimitri. And all this shit will be over soon.” Charlie patted him on the back. “Care if I go grab a burger while you’re down here? I’m fucking starving.”

  “Yeah, go ahead,” Dimitri said. “Grab something for her too, for when she wakes up. Closest place is Honey’s Diner in Sligo. Should still be open.”

  “Sweet. You want anything?”

  Dimitri shook his head, his eyes still on her.

  “All right. Thanks, boss. I’ll be back in a little bit,” Charlie said, and he quickly made his way to the stairs.

  Dimitri grabbed the stool and set it up beside a beam close to the cage. Leaning his back against the pole, he squatted down slowly and sprawled his legs out. He let out a heavy breath and felt, for a moment, as much a prisoner in that place as she was. Felt himself puppeteered by the violence and the wishes of ill men, his father included. He shook his head to force the thought away. Now I sound like her when she’s talking about her parents. Sometimes we truly are just plain stuck. He dug into his pocket for his pack of smokes.

  His groan and the flick of his Zippo filtered through her sleep and pulled her awake. At first, she wasn’t sure if she had just had the most peculiar dream or if … Annalise moved and the pain in her side ripped her into full consciousness. This was no dream. She was stuck in a fucking nightmare. Her eyes flew open as she instinctively reached for her side. Her breath was quick as she found her bearings in the dim light. A few moments passed as the memories of the last twenty-four hours flooded her consciousness, before she saw him sitting there in the shadows, the cigarette smoke dancing around his slumped shoulders.

  “You came back,” she noted quietly, hoping her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. As miserable as this was,
he was the only one who gave her a glimmer of hope.

  “You’re awake.” He grinned wide, and took a drag.

  “Yeah, I’m a real Sleeping Beauty … blood stains and all…” she replied with a little smirk.

  “How’s Sleeping Beauty’s stab wound feeling?”

  “Oh shit … sore …” She looked down, examining the wound as the full realization came back to her. “But tolerable. Your friend did a good job.”

  “Certainly, not my friend. And we had a nice little talk. He knows this place is off-limits to him now. You’re off-limits to him. And we saw your dad today. Everything will be settled in another day or so.” His eyes strayed from her, trailing the concrete floor, and he carried a nervous expression on his face.

  Uneasiness rolled in Anna’s stomach as she looked at him, tried to read him. “You don’t believe that, do you? My father can’t be trusted any more than your friend with the pipe.” She reached out and put her small hand to the bar, almost to comfort him. She swallowed hard. She had already accepted this wasn’t going to turn out well for her. She tried to offer him a small smile.

  “To be honest, I worry about the kind of power your father yields.” He took a deep breath, and then laughed uncomfortably, glancing over at her. “Don’t tell any of them that though. Not that you could. They feel invincible right now. And invincible is dangerous.”

  “Sounds like they are as delusional as my father. He always has to have the upper hand.” Annalise shook her head and forced her mind to stay in the present. She would not let the memories choke her.

  He leaned in toward her, elbows on his knees, and he looked at her intently. “I have a straight question for you, and I need a straight answer. Can you give that to me?”

  “Yes, shoot.” Annalise stared at him, deadpan. She feared his question but for the first time in her lonely life, felt she could actually be honest.

  “Would your father let us kill you or risk your life if his record came out clean on the other end? Would your mother?”

  Annalise struggled for her brave face, the one she gave to the press, but her lower lip began to quiver. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “He would let me die.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “And … my … mother would do whatever he told her to. She would just drink me away. She’s been turning her head for years.” Annalise choked back the sob. She refused to let it out. She placed trembling fingers over her face in a feeble attempt to hide the raw carnage of her true life.

  He let out a heavy breath. “Well, then I think we’re both in a lot of trouble.”

  “If it comes to it, please, will you do it and not let that other monster have me. If it all goes to shit, just please.” She looks up to him with wide, helpless eyes.

  He looked as if he were about to argue with her, but then he hesitated and eventually nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do it. But I don’t think it’ll come to that. If we run into the kind of shit I think we’re in for, I’ll let you out long before anybody gets to you. I won’t let you get caught up in that. These men watching you, they won’t either.”

  “I guess we’re both in a pile of shit. It’s hard to trust you, dressed like a bank robber.” She gave a little laugh. “I like your face a lot more than that mask. It’s like a bad movie.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, you weren’t supposed to see my face. I’m gonna need you to try and forget it. And I do sometimes feel like Steve Buscemi from Fargo in this thing.” He palmed the knit wrapping his face and smiled. “Could always go the ex-Presidents route like Point Break. Definitely better airflow with those masks.”

  “Well, that’s it then. Don’t guess there’s a chainsaw to bust me outta here.” Annalise giggled, even though it sent lightning bolts through her side. She loved that movie. “I’m kidding. I’ll pretend I never saw you.” I will never forget your beautiful face. It’s the one thing I want to hold on to.

  Dimitri motioned to the mask. “So, I take it you don’t mind if I remove this thing then? If we’re agreeing you’ve never seen me after this and all. It’s hot as hell and I hate smoking in it.”

  “Be my guest.” She motioned as grandly as possibly without moving her side.

  He stripped it off, letting out a pleasured sigh as the cool air bathed his skin, and he took a deep drag of his Marlboro. While running a hand through his hair, he tossed the mask to the ground. “I don’t imagine a professional dancer smokes?” he asked, taking a puff.

  Annalise studied his chiseled features. He leaned into the light and let the smoke out in a slow exhale, running thick fingers through his sweat-matted hair, and it damn near took her breath away. She swallowed and looked away gathering herself before answering. “I … I never tried.” Her cheeks flushed crimson. “I never try anything.”

  “That’s good,” he said, exhaling. “It’s a filthy habit.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a matte black flask. “I do have this, if you’d care to try. A little Johnnie Walker never hurt anybody.”

  “What can I call you?” she asked, as he flipped the top open and took a pull from the flask, glug glug glug. “You never told me what your name was, and debt collector sounds … well, quite formal”

  He hesitated first, handing the flask through the bars to her, and he shrugged. “Fuck it. It’s Dimitri,” he said. “You’re gonna have to forget that too though after all this.”

  “I won’t lie, I picked it up when that other guy, the asshole, said it earlier anyway,” she said, smiling faintly as she eyed the metal container cautiously, then considering her current abode, decided it couldn’t hurt. She grabbed the flask and took it to her lips. The metal was still warm from his mouth. What is wrong with me? Am I seriously developing Stockholm Syndrome? Why is it I do hope he makes it out alive? She closed her eyes and took a slow pull, imagining the heat was from him. Her cheeks ignited as much from the embarrassment of her thoughts as from the powerful drink. It burned at first and she winced, but it finished with an intense smoky flavor. Annalise swallowed the stringent liquid and started to hand it back, but then took a longer drink and fought the urge to choke before handing it back.

  She let out a slow breath after swallowing, and held the flask back through the bars for him to take. Their fingers touched, the ridges of his calloused skin grazing across her delicate fingers, sending reverberations of electricity up her arm. She immediately felt a tightening in her core she had never experienced before. A small gasp escaped her lips and she let go slowly

  “Dimitri …” she repeated softly and let it float in the air between them as the burn against her taste buds lessened. She watched him chew pensively on his lower lip. Grasping at a moment of boldness, Annalise leaned toward him, her eyes locking on his. “Dimitri, I promise to forget all of this on the off-chance that I make it out of here alive.”

  “Oh, you’ll make it out of here alive. I’ll make sure of it. Let’s just hope I do too.” He looked at her with a smile, but wore somber eyes along with it, as he took the flask and another stiff drink of his own, before returning it to his pocket. “How’d that drink go for you?” he asked with a slight smile, a cigarette meeting his lips.

  “Warm …” she answered with a half-smile as the liquid radiated to all parts of her body.

  “I always say it’s like a blanket. Love that feeling.” He lit the cigarette and took a drag.

  “Yeah… like a blanket.” She wiped a drop off her lip. It was like talking to an old friend—no fronts, no masks.

  “You were beautiful out there, you know?” He looked as if his own words startled him, eyes wide, and a hand rubbing his bearded chin nervously. The smoke tumbling from his lips.

  “You saw me dance?” She leaned forward, surprised, and yet delighted he watched and thought it was beautiful.

  “Yeah, for a little bit before the, um, before we found you,” he said quietly, and then gulped, hesitating. “You were … something else.”

  “It was my debut performance. It was going to be my finest … and my last.” She let out slowly and turned to th
e darkness.

  “You carry a lot of that sadness on stage with you … in a good way. I think that’s what makes it so beautiful.” He looked away from her, and seemed to be thinking hard by the thick lines in his forehead, then he tossed his cigarette butt to the concrete floor and stepped on it.

  “Dancing is my escape. Well, at least it was. Every ounce of pain and guilt that I could never tell anyone fueled my practice. It’s like a release. The music takes you. Picks you up and transports you, note by note, to another plane. Body and soul, and I was free.”

  “See, and why would you end everything when you have that kind of ability, that kind of escape?” he asked, cocking his head and smirking. “Your escape, it brings joy to people, it expresses something within you to others, and there’s something to be said for that. That’s something not many can do. My escapes, they’re deadly. Alcohol. Drugs. It’s always just looking for the next thing to ease the burdens, whatever I can get my hands on really. With you, you’ve turned the pain into art. You found a way to take what you feel and what you experienced, and express it beautifully, and uniquely. I don’t know why you’d want to end something special like that.”

  “I love dancing. If I could just do that forever, I would. It’s the life that’s waiting when the curtain falls that I just can’t do anymore. I guess I could have turned to other vices like my mother, but I didn’t want to be her any more than I wanted to be me. I can’t begin to ask you to understand.” Annalise sank back onto the old cot, crossing her legs. “You are strong and bold. You can’t know what it’s like to feel like you have no way out. All the beauty in the world can’t fix the darkness on the inside.”

  “I understand more than you know,” Dimitri said, and his eyes roamed the shadows of the basement, his bottom lip slipping between his teeth, and he hung his shoulders. He continued, his eyes still averted. “My dad drank away twenty-three years of his life before he passed. And it’s not a coincidence I’m twenty-three years old right now. My mother, I never knew her. I was raised around this violence and bloodshed and hate, and you had to be strong … and you had to be bold, or what you thought strong and bold were, to survive. It’s all just acting, really. But I’m no less broken than you. I carry the burden of parental expectation too. I was born with my life already laid out in front of me. Top to bottom. A life, more often than not, I never even wanted. Shoes I never wanted to fill.” He stopped himself, his lips pinching tightly together, as if to physically keep his words from continuing to flow. He hesitated for a moment longer, and then he finally added, “I know the pain of feeling like you never had a choice.”