Jinx: Kings of Carnage MC

by Chelsea Camaron

  Chrome is not his real name. It’s a street name of sorts. I know who the Rail Wreckers are. And well, it’s not good. While I’ve encountered the Freedom Riders, the Rail Wreckers, the Metal Monsters, and a few others. Gangs, cults, whatever anyone wants to call it, I’ve been around the battle for the rails.

  The Freedom Riders are more of a West Coast group, while the Metal Monsters are found chasing the border of the United States and Canada up North. Rail Wreckers tend to tag and stick to the South.

  “Where are we?” I ask Chrome trying to sort out what I need to do next. It’s obvious Katie doesn’t want to go home so the plan to head West is out.

  “Georgia,” he tells me with a smirk, “Sweet as a peach, all the goodies we got right here.”

  Well, I didn’t anticipate being here. Making it this far East isn’t a bad thing. Maybe I can make my way down to Florida. If I can find a place to settle, get a job that pays cash and actually have a life … well, I can hope.

  “Atlanta? Savannah?” I ask trying to play over the things I remember form Geography all those years ago.

  “Uprising technically, but we ain’t far from Atlanta. You gonna catch out already?”

  I nod. “I gotta get to my sister,” I lie. One thing I know is you never let these people think you’re alone. The thought of someone potentially looking out for me prevents the thought that I’m disposable.

  “Is she as pretty as you?” he flirts and my stomach rolls.

  “Prettier,” I reply stepping away. “Well, I’ll be on my way.”

  “No,” Chrome says. “Stay, eat. We have some food. We’ve got some blow.”

  I nod and decide I need to appease the man for now. Eventually he will let me off the hook and I can make my way to Atlanta.

  With a plan beginning in my mind, I get comfortable. At least for the next few hours I can keep an eye on Katie and who knows, maybe she will decide to come with me.

  Having a few crackers from Chrome, I sit down while Caleb keeps Katie glued to his side and the others ramble on about their lives or the voices in their heads.

  The sun sets and I notice a light in the distance. “I’m going for a walk,” I announce really just needing to find my escape.

  Deciding that sleeping in the woods is safer for me than staying here, I sling my backpack on my back and begin to head to the light I see through the woods. While I don’t know what is on the other side of the woods, I do know if I can find a road, I can certainly find my way to the city.

  I don’t make it out of the train yard before I hear the conductor moving out to the trains. Quickly, I move to a single boxcar sitting on the back tracks. It’s locked as I make my approach so I just slide under the car and hide against the wheels. With the woods on the other side of the tracks, if I need to make a quick escape to the trees I can, otherwise, I’ll at least have shelter for the night. Getting comfortable I don’t go to sleep since I’m not sure if the Rail Wreckers are looking for me to return or not.

  When I was a little girl, my mom taught me about the bible. God made Eve to be a helper to Adam. God didn’t make man to be alone, she explained. My entire life I was raised to be the helpmate to a man. Our culture groomed all females to know that every breath we take is to serve a higher purpose. To be born a female is to be born subservient in my culture. I was born as a gift to my future husband from God.

  And I was to be presented at fourteen.

  I was born as a gift to my sister’s husband. Her fifty-seven-year-old husband who is also our father’s brother. I was born and groomed to become my uncle’s seventh wife.

  The power in the number seven, I was the wife to gift him a multitude of children. Our offspring were to be the prophets.

  As soon as Amara learned of his plan to take me as his wife, she warned me. Without her help, I would be nothing more than a sex slave and a brood mare. I begged Amara to come with me and our original plan was for her to leave with me. Only she found out just weeks before my planned departure that God blessed her with a child. Pregnant and on the run, she wasn’t willing to hold me back.

  My niece was born healthy and as happy as a baby can be since ignorance is bliss. I didn’t realize I was born to a cult until I escaped.

  Now, I see.

  I see a lot of things I never would have noticed before. Like the scars on the face of the man who introduced himself as Drifter is on meth, as is the girl in their group known as Twig. Watching Caleb he’s twitching and hooked too, even if Katie doesn’t see it yet.

  Drugs can provide an escape from the woes in life, but it’s always only temporary. That knowledge is what has prevented me from ever trying them in the first place. I can spot a user though.

  The thing is drugs make people unpredictable. It’s a different level of danger. Which is why I wish I had more space between me and the others. However, traveling in a strange place at night isn’t smart. So keeping my wits about me, I have settled in where they won’t think to find me.

  One thing about people living like me, very few actually use the undercarriage of the cars. This is something I use to my benefit.

  I’ll stay put and doze until morning.

  Tomorrow is a new day and I’ll face what is to come alone … as usual.

  Good thing I long ago adjusted.

  Five

  Jinx

  “You can observe a lot by watching.” Yogi Berra – This is one hundred percent fact, Jinx

  The dawn of a new day has me hitting the road early. I need to be there for his discharge. Pops was in good spirits last night when I called to check on him, so I’m hopeful today’s transition back to the nursing home will go okay. I stopped staying with him at the hospital because he says it’s degrading. Now, when they have to transport him in like this, I call and make sure I’m there when he transitions back to the facility.

  Growing up I never thought about when the time would come and my parents would need help. I guess I somehow figured they would be fine. After all they both are stronger than anyone I know. The reaper doesn’t discriminate by gender, age, race, or how much money is in the bank. When he comes for you, it’s a done deal. Mom died and Pops has been adamant about not being a burden to me. Even though I don’t see him as a burden in any way, he made this choice to have a nurse wipe his ass as he puts it, than his grown son. While I don’t desire to ever wipe any man’s ass if Pops needed me to I would. After the shit I put him through back in Hawaii, he never once turned his back on me so I won’t turn mine on him.

  I do my part to make sure he never feels alone since he never once let me be alone in life. I can’t imagine what it’s like for him to be lost in the past while living in the present. That’s how I assume his head works with the dementia.

  I leave Uprising heading through Atlanta when I make a small pitstop at a shop in Little Five Points. My phone keeps ringing over and over therefore, I stop earlier than I planned. This kind of shit tests my patience. I could get one of those helmets with the shit that will let me talk and answer on it, but I like my half-shell lid just fine. What I don’t like is any distraction from the freedom of the ride. Most of the Kings have all updated to the Bluetooth shit on their bikes. I just can’t do it.

  I live for the ride.

  The open road without distraction.

  Hell, I don’t even have a radio on my Harley. There is no better sound to my ears than that distinct tick in a Harley Davidson engine. Feeling my phone vibrate over and over, someone obviously needs something from me. Which is why I’m taking a pitstop in one of the most unique places around Atlanta.

  I’m off to the side of a parking lot when I drop the kickstand, kill the engine, and get off. Removing my helmet, I stretch as I pull out my phone. The annoying machine rings again. In the past shit like this would happen when a tweaker would get my number. Desperate for a fix, they will call over and over. That has been a while back since Bash and I made it our mission to step up the Kings business operations. Now, we supply larger quantities to others wh
o then trickle-down disbursement. Less risk on our end to sell to an undercover cop and more reward in pushing out higher amounts which in turn brings larger profit.

  “Pops,” I answer worried because it’s not like him to blow up my phone like this. I pray they didn’t move him early and he’s in a rough transition. After the gun situation I’m not sure how much more they will put up with from him. While there are other spots I can put him, he likes his nurses most days and he likes the private room, but having activities with other seniors. Overall, he enjoys living out the rest of his days there so I don’t want to upset that.

  “Koa,” he whispers. “I can’t find your mom.”

  He is panic stricken. The desperation in his voice cuts me deep. This is the hard part about his disease. Everything seems muddled in his mind.

  “I’m coming to you, Pops. Can you sit tight for me?”

  “You bringin’ Kal?”

  “Pops, just don’t take off okay?”

  He sighs, “I already tried that because I didn’t want to call and bother you son. I just need to find my Kal, but the nurse said no and put something in my IV. She said it was to settle me, but Koa, I’ll be settled once Kal gets here. It’s not like her to not be with me.” His voice cracks and I know he’s fighting back tears. “I just want to know where my Kal is. She would never leave me in a hospital alone.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “They say I fell. I didn’t fall. Someone pushed me.” He continues rambling. This is another thing that takes getting used to. As quickly as he gets hung up on one topic from the past, he will switch to the present like the two parts of his life are merged.

  I can’t focus on his muttering right now because a person catches my attention.

  Little Five Points is a slurring of activity with traffic, but not like the streets of Atlanta, just in all the normal comings and goings of the melting-pot neighborhood. People are everywhere, but it’s this one woman who stands out to me.

  She’s near the entrance to The Vortex that I happen to be parked near holding a cardboard sign that reads: Job wanted ASAP! Willing to work. No, I’m not a hooker! Clean your car? Yes. Clean your house? Yes. Mow your grass? Sure. Be your date? No.

  Hell, the cardboard in her hands is half her damn size. I shouldn’t find this as amusing as I do. I can’t help but laugh. The woman isn’t dirty, but she’s in such oversized clothes and her hair a disheveled mess on top of her head I can’t help but to laugh. Maybe a desperate man would want to date her, but for me, nope, I’m not even getting a small chub from the tired-mom look she’s rocking.

  A thought hits me as Pops continues to ramble, she’s perfect to clean the clubhouse!

  Okay, so under normal circumstances I would certainly put more effort into my task. Background checks, fingerprints, hell even a drug test would be smart. Only, I’m not sure anyone will stick with this job so why not give this woman a try without wasting time on all the extra? It’s not like we will let her in on club business. She wants to clean not get fucked. It’s perfect.

  “Pops, I gotta go. I’m on my bike. Just sit tight, I’ll be right there.”

  I end the call with him muttering something else about not reaching my mom. He is going full circle today it seems. This is the part I hate. The experts tell me to remind him of her passing. That it’s not good for me to lie and say she’s out buying groceries. Maybe that’s true, maybe it’s exactly what he needs in the moment. I’m not big on lies, so I’ve never told him mom was out doing something, but the thought crosses my mind every single time he’s wound up like this.

  The whole thing kills me more and more inside. I can’t stand to think of him mourning his wife over and over again. That can’t be healthy no matter what the doctors say. Rather than lie to my old man, I either end the conversation like now, or I change the subject.

  Climbing off my bike, I approach the young woman. She’s tiny, but then again, most people are small compared to my massive build. Her face is free of makeup and she has no knockout features. As I get closer, her eyes widen before she swallows back the fear and stands straight up to face me.

  She’s got spirit. I like it.

  “You got a name?” I ask and she nods.

  I’m good at not having conversations. In fact, I’m pretty sure if one of my brothers had to describe me, it would be as the one who is seen and not heard. This woman, well, she’s mastered my own technique very well.

  “You wanna tell me what it is?”

  “Depends on why you’re asking,” she looks to my cut, “Jinx.”

  Oh smartass sass she is full of fire. Another positive in her favor. Even better with the way her sweatshirt is swallowing her entire body I am not even remotely turned on. Having a new woman enter the clubhouse is a challenge since we don’t need another piece of ass to pass around, we need someone who will work.

  “Got a job you might be good at.”

  “Is that so?” She looks down for a minute before lifting her head high once more. “If you’re gonna proposition me for sex, the answer is no. Let’s not waste my time or yours.”

  “Nope, no sex necessary. In fact, I would even be willing to pay you more the longer you don’t have sex with one of the brothers.”

  Her eyebrow raises in question. Only my phone begins to ring again. Lifting it from my holster, I see it’s Pops. I don’t have time to keep at this.

  “Look, I got somewhere to be and you got a sign that says you’re willing to work. I need your name and seein’ as you got mine, I think it’s only fair.”

  She laughs, “yes, because every mother names her son Jinx.”

  I can’t stop the smirk from forming on my lips from her smartass mouth.

  “You want a job, I need your name.”

  “Apple,” she replies without a single hesitation and I full out laugh.

  “You’re givin’ me shit for the name Jinx and your own momma named you Apple.”

  She nods and keeps her eyes straight at my sunglasses. “Yes, I guess I am and that’s my name so is that a problem?”

  “Nope, no problem at all. In fact, I dare to say you might be perfect.”

  She studies me curiously as if it’s all too good to be true or that I’m somehow going to change the nature of our deal. “What’s the job? Because I’m like the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. One bite and it’s your demise so sex is off the table for your own well-being.”

  Yes, this woman is going to be perfect.

  My phone rings again and I don’t have time to question her more.

  “You got a set of wheels?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Alright, I gotta take care of something. If you want the job, it’s cleaning an old fire station.”

  “That’s it? Clean an old building? What’s the catch?”

  She’s smart. I like it. “Well, Apple, if you think you’re up for the challenge to clean up after a bunch of bikers, then we got a clubhouse that could use some attention from someone who will stay sober enough to scrub the toilets rather than just upchuck in them.”

  “And I get paid in cash?”

  “Yes, if you want the job, I’ll be back in an hour to pick you up.”

  She shakes her head. “You can call me a ride share so I know it’s safe.” Yes, this woman is street smart which will be good around the Kings.

  “I’m on a bike, darlin’. Hard to kidnap a woman on a bike when you can shift wrong and crash us both. I’m not big on road-rash, babe. You want the job, I’ll be back to pick you up. If you’re gone when I pass back through, then I’ll have your answer.”

  Rather than wait for her to ask me anything more, I head back to my bike. Pops needs me and I’m still a little ways out with traffic.

  When I get to the hospital I go straight to the Emergency Room since that’s where he’s usually at after a fall. They do the checks to make sure he didn’t break anything or get a concussion before sending him back to the assisted living facility. Since he’s registered to the facility they do
n’t always give him a room. Most of the time he’s here for an overnighter and they can monitor him in here since he doesn’t usually make it a full twenty-four hours in the place.

  I hate hospitals. The smell of the cleaners, antiseptics or whatever, it all puts me off. Fresh air is good for the soul. The waiting room is full of people in different states of distress. There is a man with a towel wrapped around his hand saturated in blood with a woman three seats over holding a toddler close to her chest rocking the child who seems flush with fever. A row over is a teen girl puking into a bag with her father sitting beside her shaking his head.

  Going to the check in desk, I give the receptionist my father’s name. She tells me he’s in bed eleven down past triage. I don’t bother asking anything else as I make my way to through the double doors and back into the flurry of activity in the bed area. Finding bed eleven, I walk in to see Pops sound asleep in the hospital bed.

  He’s much smaller like this. As a kid I remember thinking, my dad is so big he can take on anyone. His brown hair is thinning now but he still keeps it shaped in the military haircut he maintained through all his years in the Army. His face is clean shaven making the wrinkles of time stand out.

  When did he get so old?

  I know I’ve watched him deteriorate, but really taking him in right now, I can’t stop the pain from building inside.

  I was born an orphan. Arthur and Kalini have always been honest with me about my past. Kalini knew my biological mother and used to babysit her when she was small and Kalini was a teen. Kalini was like a big sister to her and when she found herself giving birth in her childhood bedroom, Kalini was the first person she thought of.

  Of course, I was grown before I learned those small details. When Kalini died, my biological mother came to the funeral. Arthur introduced us. I didn’t say much because what was there to say. She left me on a porch. Sure, I had a better life because of that, but still my mother gave me away. She left me without knowing when I’d be found. While Arthur and Kalini gave me everything they had to give, I’ve always been left with this feeling inside like I’m not complete. I can’t explain it, but something isn’t fulfilled even though I want for nothing in life.