Brick Solid (Voodoo Troops MC Book 1)

by Jewelz Baxter

  “Sly is a photographer. We've worked with him before.” Chelle informed her.

  “Of course we'll be there. And this is Nealy Kinman.”

  “You will go with us, won't you?” She asked Nealy?

  “Oh, um. I don't know,” Nealy squeezed her mat to her chest.

  “Here's my card. Feel free to call or come by if you have any questions. I will put all your insecurities to rest.”

  “Thank you,” she took the card and envelope and dropped them in her bag. “We really should be going inside now”.

  “Yeah,” Venus checked her watch. “It's time for class to start. Come on girls. See ya later Sly.”

  The women waved and crossed the parking lot together.

  “He's really an okay guy. Not creepy like a lot of photographers I've come across,” Venus reassured her as they entered the building.

  * * *

  That same night outside town the Voodoo Troops were hanging at a bar for bike night. Bikes everywhere. Plenty of booze, women, and drugs.

  “Crowd's not what it was last season,” commented Cowboy.

  “Not close. More addicts than bikers now,” agreed Rash.

  “We're here. Girls are willin'. Make the best of it,” King instructed before heading into the bar.

  Cowboy and Rash nodded and turned to the girls standing nearby. Rash said something to them then headed to join Brick in the parking lot.

  Kickstand down, Brick sat to the side with his legs stretched out crossed at the ankles. Arms crossed. He watched a woman approach in boots and tight jean shorts with a top that covered little.

  “Hey there,” she purred as she straddled his legs, standing close. “Want to go dance? Music's not bad.” She smiled and set her hands to her hips while pushing her chest out.

  He didn't reply.

  “I've seen you around. Been to some parties with your club. You're always alone. You got an old lady somewhere?”

  Still he sat. No emotion.

  “You ever smile?”

  “No.”

  She smiled. “You do talk. Want some company?” She leaned closer touching his arms.

  “No.”

  He picked his knees up and pulled his feet back to stand, forcing her to step back. He stood and stepped around her.

  “Brick!”

  He turned to her.

  “You don't talk. You don't party. What do you want from a girl? Do you even fuck?” She yelled at him hands on her hips. Her brows lowered as her head tilted to one side.

  Brick said nothing. He turned back to Cowboy and Rash who now stood next to him.

  “Well?” Cowboy teased.

  “What?” Brick snapped.

  “What do you want from a woman?” He grinned.

  “Not a damn thing.”

  With a huff, the woman stormed back toward the building.

  Cowboy and Rash laughed. “Look, we're gonna stay and keep an eye out with ya.”

  Brick nodded.

  Throughout the evening Brick stayed near his bike parked in the lot near the lake. Rash patrolled the parking lot to the side and the drive. Cowboy kept watch on the porch. King covered the bar inside. Each making sure their merchandise was not mistreated. Each girl going to Brick with the club's cut.

  * * *

  “Why you here?”

  King twisted to see Ron, one of the owners standing next to him. Ron was in his fifties with thinning blond hair. At one time he had been friendly and attractive, lately he had become edgy and unpredictable.

  “Drinkin',” King held up his glass.

  “Don't bullshit me. Your club is here workin' your girls. This is our place and your cuttin' in.”

  “Only taking what we agreed upon.”

  “Ron! Let it go!” A voice behind the bar yelled.

  Ron was unsteady on his feet. He placed his shaking hands on the table where King sat and leaned in. His eyes were wild, pupils dilated, and he appeared jumpy.

  “Back off man, you’re jacked,” King told him and continued drinking while watching the transaction across the room.

  “You're making deals here.” He shoved King's shoulder with both hands. “This is my territory!”

  Donald, the man from behind the bar, approached the table. He and Ron owned the business together. Donald was older with graying hair. Tall and Thin. Easy going. He preferred being active in the business and could usually be found behind the bar working.

  “Ron, let it go. They peddle flesh; you don't. And as long as you’re using you can't deal and profit. You gotta get clean.”

  He shoved Donald and stumbled, “They gotta go!”

  “We've worked with them for years. Not changing tonight,” Donald replied.

  He took Ron by the shoulders and steered him to a room nearby. Talking the distance there. They went in and minutes later Donald came out and locked the door, dropping the key in his pocket.

  “Man, I don't know what to do with him anymore. He's running off business and what business he does bring in isn’t good. Afraid he's gonna get himself killed or OD. Either way, if he doesn't quit he'll be dead.” He shook his head and motioned to the locked door. “That should hold him a while.”

  King kicked a chair out with his foot, and pushed the whiskey bottle toward the empty chair.

  Donald nodded and stepped to the bar grabbed a glass then returned to the table. He poured them both a drink and sat down.

  For half an hour King and Donald sat and discussed life, business, and nothing at all. Muffled sounds came from the locked room for some time before it became silent.

  King cocked an ear toward the door, “He must have passed out.”

  “Probably a good thing,” Donald said as he stood to get back to work. “Later.”

  He was out alright, but not passed out.

  * * *

  Brick stepped out of the trees after relieving himself.

  “Give it to me!” Ron demanded.

  He stood in front of Brick breathing heavily. His clothes disheveled from climbing out the small window near the ceiling and falling to the ground. His feet apart and arms held away from his sides he held a knife in his right hand.

  “Money. That's my money and I want it,” he yelled.

  Brick stood still eyeing the knife. His gun as always was under his cut but there were people scattered everywhere. He wouldn't miss. That didn't concern him. The riot that could follow gun shots did. No need to draw unwanted attention. He chose to fight hand to hand.

  “Hand it over. Or I take it and leave you dead.” He waved the knife with his wrist toward Brick's face motioning with the other hand for Brick to come closer.

  Brick remained still.

  Ron lunged and swung his right hand wildly.

  Brick grabbed him. They wrestled for only seconds before Brick had Ron tackled to the ground. He knocked the knife from his hand.

  Ron stopped struggling and lay there glaring at Brick still above him. “My turf. My money. Clear out.”

  Brick stood and bent to retrieve the knife. He stepped back, eyes still focused on the man on the ground.

  “Go clean up and chill.”

  Clumsily he got to his feet. Breathing heavily, Ron studied Brick a moment before turning back to the building. He had stumbled up the drive when he stopped and reached into his boot.

  Brick waited until Ron was headed to the bar then continued toward his bike. A few feet from his bike he heard a growl erupt. Just as he turned to look, a force knocked Brick back. He stumbled but stayed on his feet. He shoved back and raised the knife he had just taken from Ron.

  Ron was back. His eyes were crazy. He held another knife in his hand. This one longer than the first, jagged on one side, the tip curved. He swung.

  Brick evaded the blow. He continued to stay out of reach hoping to wear him down. They had known each other for years. Otherwise Brick would have already taken care of the threat and moved on.

  Ron was not relenting or tiring. He charged Brick with a scream.

&nb
sp; They wrestled for moments before the knife found a target. With Brick's hand wrapped around Ron's, he drove the knife in to the hilt. He let go.

  Ron stumbled.

  Brick placed his booted foot on Ron's back and pushed.

  His body hit the water's edge with a splash.

  Brick straightened and breathed deeply. Pain shot through his side.

  “Damn brother!” Rash was at his side now. His hand on Brick's shoulder, Cowboy right behind him.

  Brick twisted to survey the crowd. Only a few eyes looked their way curious why they had run across the parking lot.

  “Quick work,” Cowboy praised. “You okay?”

  He nodded.

  “That guy?” Rash nodded toward the lake.

  “Ron.”

  Rash shook his head.

  They all looked to the rippling water, stunned.

  “What the fuck was his problem?”

  “Fucked up.”

  “Damn,” Rash and Cowboy replied in unison.

  They turned from the water. The light from the building shone enough to see the blood.

  “Your cut.”

  Brick pulled his vest back and his shirt up. A gash about six inches long poured blood.

  Rash pulled the bandana from his head and handed to Cowboy. He jogged to his bike and dug in the saddlebag.

  Cowboy pulled his bandana off and placed both of them on the cut. Then wrapped his waist with a bandage from the saddlebag to hold them in place.

  “Gonna need stitches.”

  “I'm fine.”

  Rash ignored him. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed.

  They had a doctor who came to the clubhouse to tend to any problems such as gunshots: things that didn't need to be reported. Stitches they could handle themselves, but it had been awhile since anyone had needed Doc. So at times they called him just to keep him on hand.

  “Yeah,” King answered.

  “Need Doc to meet us at the clubhouse. Brick's cut, needs stitches.”

  “Details.”

  “Not yet.”

  “You stay with the girls. Cowboy and I'll follow him back,” King instructed.

  “Done.”

  “You good to ride?” asked Cowboy.

  “Fine” growled Brick.

  Minutes later they pulled out.

  * * *

  Nealy left work to meet Venus and Chelle at a deli before yoga class. Unfamiliar with the area, she was driving slowly and watching for signs when she heard the gas indicator buzz.

  She looked down. Great. Need gas first. Ahead she saw a familiar sign. She pulled in and stopped at a gas pump. As she punched in her payment information the roar of a motorcycle caught her attention. She watched it pull into the station and stop next to others across the lot.

  There he was. He stood next to his bike. Staring. Behind him four other bikes sat. Bikers stood around them talking.

  The nozzle clicked in her hand breaking her trance. She replaced the nozzle and grabbed her receipt. Hesitantly she looked across the lot again.

  He had not moved.

  She smoothed her hands down her skirt and pushed her hair behind her ears. A deep breath gave her courage to walk toward him never looking away.

  He stood with arms crossed. Eyes on her.

  She stopped just feet from him and smiled.

  He didn't.

  “Hey sweet thing,” Nova stepped around Brick.

  Brick's arm shot out halting Nova and pushing him back.

  “All cool,” Nova raised his hands in surrender.

  Someone else behind him whistled.

  Brick never moved.

  “You’re hurt,” she gasped and looked from the blood stain on his tee to his face as she raised her hand toward it and stepped forward.

  “I'm good,” he said as he lowered his arm and pulled his cut back to cover the spot. The stitches on his side were still healing. He hated being confined in bandages so when the wound seeped it showed.

  Her hand dropped to her side. She bit her lip and nodded.

  “I want to thank you for my tire the other day.” She watched his eyes soften and she stepped forward. “What do I owe you?”

  He shook his head.

  “I'd like to repay you. Is there anything I can do?”

  He bent toward her, “Stay away.”

  Stunned she stood for a moment.

  “I just wanted to let you know you were a life saver. Thank you.” Hiding her hurt she returned to her car.

  “That was cold man,” Mac stepped next to Brick.

  “Honest,” He replied, “don't belong.”

  Chapter Three

  “So,” Edna began as she entered the break room. “Last day of work this week, huh? Lucky you.” She sat next to Nealy opening her lunch bag.

  Nealy and Edna had become friends when she began work here. They both packed lunches daily and ate together in the break room rather than leaving the bank. Edna was thirty-two compared to Nealy’s twenty-eight. Tall, slim, and beautiful, with smooth caramel skin. She had no problem telling it like she saw it and Nealy thought that trait was what she loved so about her. She was honest but not brutal, giving straight advice and expecting the same in return.

  “Yeah, but something is just weird about the whole idea.”

  “Girl, your world turned weird the day you let that biker pay for your car tire and buy you a phone charger to boot. From what I hear, let one get an edge and he thinks he owns you.”

  “You're exaggerating. Besides, I'm not seeing him again. It’s all good.”

  That was a month ago. No one had ever done something like that for her and not expected something in return. She smiled at the memory.

  “Why you going if you don't want to?”

  Nealy shook her head and shrugged. “I had the invitation in my bag the day Mom and I went shopping. It fell out and she saw it. Got so excited I was doing something good I told her I would go.”

  “You really gotta learn the word NO,” Edna emphasized as she opened her water bottle and put to her lips. “You've modeled before. Huh?”

  “A few local things and some catalogs. Not much call for a short model.” She laughed. “Especially with hips like these.” She shook her head and took a bite of her sandwich, “but it was fun and made me feel pretty if only for a while.”

  “Girl. There you go again. Crazy. You’re gorgeous. So tell me the agenda. And you know Monday I will be expecting all the details.”

  Nealy laughed and relayed the information she had. “We meet up tonight at a house where we will be staying. Get acquainted, relax, and prepare for tomorrow. Tomorrow we do photo shoots at the pool and various shots around the house and grounds. Venus says they have makeup artists and stylists to help with the wardrobe changes. An all-day thing. Then Saturday they will have a location picked with props and an auction.”

  “Auction?”

  “Yea, Venus and Chelle both have done it. Said it’s like a fundraiser, but you also make money. A day of getting pictures for a portfolio, some for a calendar, some are sold to publications. I don't know what all. Then end it by helping with some auction. Of what I don’t know. Guess I will find out when we get there. I could use the extra money, but definitely not making this a career. I’m happy right here at the bank.”

  “That’s sweet but you are crazy. Anybody that offers me a job to work occasionally and play a lot I would jump right on that.”

  * * *

  That evening Nealy met Venus and Chelle and followed them to the lake house. Each taking separate cars because, according to Chelle, no one knew where their weekend would end up and more than likely each at separate places. Although this concerned Nealy, she followed the others and trusted their judgment.

  The house was a gorgeous two story near the lake. A large beautifully kept yard surrounded it. A covered patio and pool sat just behind it. Next to the water a volleyball net stood in the sand. The inside was simple but elegant. Upstairs there were six rooms.

 
The girls grouped together and chose rooms and made themselves at home.

  There were ten girls total. Each different, but beautiful. Each from different social backgrounds also. Venus was tall with short dark hair just above her shoulders and Chelle was also tall but with curly hair streaked with blonde, reds and browns. They worked in “various entertainment” opportunities as she had known before today. Whatever that meant she never questioned. One blonde, with bright blue eyes and perfect features was working her way through nursing school with any job she could. One was a single mom taking, according to her, “every opportunity to save up money to benefit her kids.” She was the oldest of the group at thirty but no less stunning than the rest. Another worked in an office during the week but was up for any extra money on the weekends. Nealy had seen her in the bank occasionally, very friendly and outgoing. The others worked for “agencies” she had never heard of but all agreed when the big names offered you a gig, you took it to get noticed. Apparently, Knox Productions was a prominent name.

  That first night was pleasant. They enjoyed a catered dinner. Then relaxed near the pool with drinks and conversation. Everyone became acquainted and enjoyed the quiet before the rush of the next day.

  Friday was a full and rigorous day. It commenced at sunup and didn't end until night fall. Makeup and wardrobe changes were plenty. The wardrobe consisted of closets full of a wide range of items. Each girl picked her own clothes often with the advice of others. Outfits ranged from bathing suites and lingerie, to winter boots and coats. All the seasons were covered in photos in the single day.

  Nealy's day consisted of swimsuit (the most conservative she could find) by the pool, photos in the garden with Venus, and indoor photos shot in the kitchen and living area. Group shots were also done as action photos on the sand and in the water. Along with the posed settings many candid shots were taken throughout the day.

  Saturday morning began with makeup and hair rituals. The girls rummaged through the closets hoping to find that one perfect ensemble to make them stand out. Three of the girls layered their choices as they dressed. The remaining seven donned one costume and stored another in a bag to have on hand. Nealy chose comfort. She decided on a dress and packed it along with her own clothes. Lunch was served then everyone loaded their cars to follow the photographer to their on-site location.