Michail

by P. T. Macias

  That’s the only thing that worries me about leaving to live on my own; it’s my Mama.

  What if he kills her?

  Crappityfuck!

  I hurry out to take the orders, and to help at the bar. Time always goes fast when I’m working, and I’m so grateful because I enjoy talking to the customers and the crew. I smile because I get more tips when I do.

  I help close the restaurant, and a few minutes later, I walk out the back door. It’s late, it’s a little scary, but it’s only a few blocks down the road. I can take an Uber, but I want to save all I can. The bus has stopped running, so walking I go.

  I walk down the street; it’s peaceful as if everyone is doing something else. That makes me happy because the asshats Royal Mambas are nowhere to be seen.

  What a fucking relief.

  I smile a little, walking down the block, confident that it’s all going to be okay tonight. I get closer to the apartment and see the flashing lights.

  Crappityfuck!

  My heart gets heavy, my stomach tightens, and I can’t breathe.

  It’s my Mama, I can feel it.

  I run to get to the apartment to check on my Mama. I get as far as the parking lot only to be stopped by the police.

  “Miss, you’re not allowed to go up,” the officer says, standing in front of the staircase.

  “I need to check if my Mama is okay,” I say, looking at him, tears falling down my face. I look up to see which apartment the police are working.

  I feel my blood drain from my face; I feel dizzy. The officer stretches his arms, grabbing me to steady me.

  “That’s my apartment, please let me check on my Mama,” I say, teary-eyed. I look around, and I see Nestor talking to an officer. He looks scared, pale, and nervous.

  “I’m sorry, but the lady is on her way to the hospital,” the officer says, crossing his arms. He stares at me, deadpan.

  “What are you doing in the apartment,” I ask, looking at the police walk and out. A minute later, I see two officers pulling John that’s in handcuffs. John stares at me, malevolently walking down the stairs.

  “Bitch, your Mama is dead,” John says, laughing. He looks drunk or high, maybe both. I always stayed away from him.

  “What did you do to my Mama,” I yell, trying to walk to him. I want to hit him; I want to do something.

  “Miss, please stay back,” the officer says, grabbing my arm, pulling me back.

  “I need to see my Mama! Which hospital did they take my Mama,” I yell, pulling my arm from his tight grasp?

  The officer looks at me, raising his eyebrow. He looks at the tablet and then gives me the name.

  “South Medical,” the officer says, looking at the crowd.

  “Thanks,” I yell, running out of the parking lot and down the street. I only know that I need to get to my Mama. I stop after a block, out of breath, tears down my face. I pull out my cell phone, and I call an Uber.

  Crappityfuck!

  I need to get to my Mama, and I don’t care if I need to spend money on an Uber. I need to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. I’m so scared, what did that monster do to my Mama?

  I get to the hospital, walking into the ER reception desk. I ask for my Mama, the Nurse looks at me, nodding.

  The Nurse takes my arm, walks me back to the waiting room.

  “Mrs. Pence is in surgery,” the Nurse says.

  “Okay,” I say, taking a seat in the waiting room.

  Hours later, the Nurse takes me to see her. Mama is lying on the bed; she looks lifeless; her face is all swollen; I hardly recognize her through the bruises.

  “Ms. I’m doctor Blackstone. I’m sorry for your loss,” Dr. Blackstone says, standing at the end of the bed.

  My heart stops; I gasp, moving my hand to my mouth. I walk over to Mama, sobbing I take her hand.

  “What were her injuries,” I ask looking at the short middle-aged doctor with a blue bow tie.

  “Mrs. Pence came into the ER with a gunshot in the stomach, plus broken ribs that punctured her lung. The stomach injury was severe, we couldn’t stop the bleeding,” Dr. Blackstone says, in a low tone.

  “Oh my god,” I say, closing my eyes. My heart pounds in my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

  “I’m sorry,” Dr. Blackstone says, walking out of the room.

  I stand next to her looking down at her pale face swollen face

  “No, Mama, don’t leave me,” I shriek sobbing, leaning over her body.

  One

  Michail

  “What’s up motherfucker,” Brett yells, slapping my back. My brother Brett is always loud; his baritone voice booms; therefore, we call him Boom.

  Baron walks into the clubhouse behind Boom, turning to look at the whores walking into the kitchen. He smiles, lifting his chin in greeting. He’s from San Francisco, CA, so we call him Cisco.

  “Hey, Bear, what’s up,” Baron says, standing next to me at the bar, resting his arm on the countertop. The brothers call me Bear because of my beard. I used to wear long, and it was thick. I guess they could call me something worse.

  “Where in the hell were you two motherfuckers hiding? I’ve been looking for you two,” I say, smirking, taking a pull of my beer.

  “Oh yeah, Kade, get me a beer,” Cisco says, smirking looking at the prospect operating the bar.

  We have two prospects working on earning their patch to become part of the MC.

  “Motherfuckers, let’s go to check out the new bitches at the Shameless strip club. Josh just hired two new strippers,” I say, taking a pull of my beer.

  “Fuck, sounds sweet,” Boom says, taking the seat next to me. He slams his fist down, nodding at Kade.

  Kade places a beer bottle in front of the brothers, nodding. He walks away to continue stocking the bar.

  “Yeah, I’m in,” Cisco says, nodding.

  “Me too,” Boom says, looking at the big TV mounted behind the bar’s wall.

  The MC owns the Shameless strip club, Kings bar, King repairs and towing, and Kings Cleaners to are very lucrative, plus we can launder the money.

  Cha-Ching.

  The clubhouse is our haven; we drink at the bar, play pool, we have our own mini-suites, family room, kitchen, dining room, and the Chapel for Church. Yeah, only the patched King brothers can attend Church.

  The Anarchy Kings MC is badass, we’re a one-percenter, yeah, we’re considered an outlaw, but hey, if you’re lucky enough to get in, you’ll have it made.

  The brothers are my family, we take care of our own, and we take care of Redding, and we have each other’s back.

  It’s my life, and I wouldn’t change it for shit.

  The Anarchy Kings Chapter in Redding, California, is the mother chapter. The Anarchy Kings have charters in California, Washington, Oregon, and Nevada. The charters are located in key locations that make the deliveries run smoothly. The amo and drugs allow the brothers to live comfortably.

  We have a total of fifty members, in addition to the nomads and prospects. If we count the brothers at the charters, we have around five thousand brothers.

  Like I said that we’re one-percenters, and it’s not because we’re saints. We do our share of chaos, but we also have a heart of gold, yeah, somewhere.

  I’m still trying to find mine.

  Don’t laugh; it’s in here somewhere.

  I take a drink of the beer looking at Betsy and Twinkie, the club whores playing pool in the far corner of the main room. I watch Twinkie walk over to the small box of twinkies that she has at the back table.

  Yeah, that girl loves to eat those golden twinkies; therefore, we call her Twinkie. It’s fitting, but I can’t believe that she’s so trim and slim. You would think that she would be a big girl with the number of twinkies that she eats.

  Nah, she’s not.

  Yeah, the fallen girls are wearing a short skirt with a cropped tank top that barely covers their breasts, and I mean barely.

  We have several club whores; I call the
m fallen girls; they hang around the clubhouse. They’re working on catching a brother, good luck there because we’re not looking for more than a little pussy.

  The fallen girls usually hang around the clubhouse for two-plus years until they get tired of waiting for a brother to claim them as their old lady.

  Some of the fallen girls want to work it, and that includes prostitution. We don’t force them into prostitution; they just want the money.

  I adjust my pants to relieve the pressure strangling my hard cock.

  Son of a bitch, I’m so damn horny, so I’m thinking of getting my dick wet.

  “Church is in an hour, so I’m going to get me some sweet pussy,” I say, sliding off the stool.

  “Motherfucker, you’re always dipping your cock in the honey,” Boom says, chuckling.

  “Yeah, it’s pure heaven,’ I say, shrugging. I walk down the room towards the two sexy fallen girls.

  “Hey Dolls, do you want to play,” I ask, smiling. I wrap my arm around Betsy’s waist, taking Twinkie’s hand. I pull her closer.

  “Hey Bear, I’m in,” Twinkie says, laughing leaning in to kiss me. I take over the kiss, sliding my arm around her waist.

  “Whatever you want, Bear,” Betsy says, turning in my arm, kissing my neck.

  I pull back, looking at the girls, nodding. I take them to my room to play for a while.

  Two

  Leticia

  It’s been eight weeks since Mama left me all alone. I’m working hard to move on and to change my lifestyle.

  Yeah, of course, I didn’t go to my graduation, nor did I celebrate my birthday. It’s okay, no biggie. I have more important things to think about and do.

  I shall survive.

  I run out of the apartment, down the pathway, and I open the car door. It’s my Mama’s car, and now this cute white Honda is mine. I appreciate it because I now have two jobs, and it helps me to get to work on time.

  I press on the gas pedal because I don’t want to be late. I don’t want the manager, Ron, to have any excuses to get rid of me.

  I pull into the parking lot, turning off the car, I open the door. The parking lot is full, so it’s going to be busy tonight. I jump out, closing the door with my hip. I run to the back door, pulling it open, looking at the clock on the wall.

  Yeah, me!

  The nightlife is always lively, busy, and full of crazy asshats at the Blue Nights bar.

  Yeah, I lied about my age, I gave them a fake ID. My experience from helping the bartender at the La Luna restaurant helped me to get the job. Thanks’ to Lupe, I learned how to bartend.

  Yeah, me.

  What can I say, sometimes you have to do what you have to do.

  It’s a small little lie.

  Right?

  I made it with ten minutes to spare. I walk to the backroom to change into the little itty-bitty skirt and short t-shirt. The good thing is that I’m one of the bartender’s; therefore, I’m behind the bar. Yeah, the asshats can see my ass when I reach or bend to grab the bottles, but it beats walking around the club as a barmaid.

  Crappityfuck!

  I hate working here, but I don’t have a choice. I used up most of my savings for the funeral expenses. It’s my second job, and it’s good money.

  Mom did have some savings, and thank God that John nor Nestor knew about it. She had the money in the bible at the altar where she had the candle burning, Christ, and the Virgin Mary. Mama also had her bank account, car, and apartment in my name.

  But I still had to get the second job to replace the savings I had to spend, plus I work double shifts to get the hell out of here.

  I need to work to survive, to pay the rent, and save. It’s almost time for the rent, and of course, I’m going to pay the rent until I figure out what to do or where to go.

  Nestor is still staying in the apartment, that motherfucker wouldn’t leave, and he had the nerve to attend the funeral.

  I don’t like living with Nestor, but I don’t have much of choice at the moment. I can’t make him leave, and he won’t go on his own.

  There must be something that I can do to get Nestor to move his fucking ass out of the apartment. He doesn’t want to help with the rent, and I don’t trust him.

  I need to think about what I’m going to do. Maybe I should get me a boyfriend that will kick his ass out! But it could backfire on me. You never know with men.

  Crappityfuck!

  The friends from La Luna restaurant also attended Mama’s funeral, which was kind of them.

  The son of a bitch, my stepfather, is in jail, waiting for his court hearing. I pray that he’s convicted for lots of years, rots in there for the rest of his cockroach life.

  I’m always waiting for the other shoe to fall; I’m so scared of Nestor because of the Royal Mambas. I pray that Ralph has moved on, and Nestor will disappear.

  Crappityfuck!

  I walk over to the bar, looking at the other girl, Stacy.

  “Hey, Stacy,” I say, clocking in. I smile at the guy sitting at the bar.

  “Hi Ticia,” Stacy says, her nickname for me.

  I smile at the man in front of me while wiping the bar countertop.

  “Hey, would you like me to get you another beer,” I say, smiling.

  “Sure do, Doll,” the man says, grinning. His eyes roam over my face, going down to stare at my breasts.

  I turn around to get him another beer, ignoring his lustful eyes. I place it on the bar countertop, smiling. I walk over to the new customer, talking and laughing all night.

  Three

  Michail

  “Okay, it’s time for you to leave,” I say, slapping Twinkie’s and Betsy’s bare ass.

  “Right,” Betsy says, scooting off my bed. She looks for her clothes on the floor.

  “Bear, how about tonight,” Twinkie says, pulling on her skirt, looking at me with huge brown eyes.

  “I’m working,” I say, shaking my head, looking at the dress.

  “Oh right,” Twinkie says, pulling on her cropped top, and walking out of my room.

  Fuck!

  Twinkie is a little clingy.

  I shake my head, walking into the bathroom to take a shower forgetting about them. I get ready in a few minutes, and I walk out of my room.

  I look at the main room of the clubhouse, at the brothers at the bar.

  “Hey Bear,” yells Casper pushing away from the bar, walking over to me.

  Casper recently got out of jail after being framed by his own unknown blood brother. That’s totally fuckshit.

  “Howdy,” Hendrix says, the other Enforcer, nodding, taking a pull from his beer bottle. Hendrix is from Texas and has a heavy southern drawl; we call him Tex.

  They’re the MC’s Enforcers, which means that they protect the MC by all means, including extracting information, enforcing the MC’s bylaws, making all the collections, terminating objections, threats and obstacles. They also assist Dominic, the Sergeant At Arms.

  “You motherfuckers ready for Church,” I say, walking over to the bar.

  “Hell yes,” Casper says, slapping my back.

  “Indeed,” Tex says, walking over, we bump fists.

  “Let’s get a seat,” Casper says, walking down the hall, we enter the Chapel.

  I take a seat, rubbing my beard watching the brothers walk into the Chapel for Church. Only patched members can attend Church, and it’s mandatory.

  The Prez walks in and closes the door nodding. He’s part of the older generation in the MC. Stan, our Prez, is James King’s son, the founder of the Anarchy Kings MC.

  The Prez likes to send us on special runs, especially when it’s a run delivering the amo or drug orders.

  “Brothers, let’s get started,” Stan says, slamming the gavel, sitting back in his chair, crossing his arms. He narrows his dark eyes, looking over at the Men of Mayhem, seating around the table, nodding.

  "I need the Men of Mayhem, Cisco, Boom, Bear, Knox, and Ronin to take care of the run for next week's amo de
livery. It’s a big delivery to the Satan’s Warriors MC," Jaxx says, cracking his knuckles, looking around the table.

  We nod, raising our fisted hand in response.

  The Men of Mayhem are one-percenter brothers that will kill to protect the MC. I’m one of the five Men of Mayhem in the Anarchy Kings MC. We’ve proven our fidelity to the MC.

  Yeah, I’m one of the Men of Mayhem, it is essential to note that we kill to protect the MC.

  We’re fuckingtastic because we’re ex-Marines; therefore, we’re so damn good at getting rid of the enemy at home or war, to us, it’s the same damn thing.

  Several of the MC brothers have military training; therefore, we’re lethal.

  “Slink, did you get the intel on that punk gang dealing drugs? The Royal Mambas want to increase their order; we need to make sure that they can pay and are not infringing in our territory,” Stan says, tapping his fingers on the table.

  “Yeah, they’re punks that want to grow, but the Cougars are looking to unite with the Royal Mambas. The Cougars are getting antsy since their punk Spider has been missing. The Royal Mambas have the money in the bank; it’s up to you, Prez,” Slink says, looking at his tablet.

  Slink is our IT genius, an incredible asset to the MC. He can hack into any system, including the government, and FBI without getting caught. Yeah, he’s stealthy and dangerous.

  “Fucktastic, they don’t know that we captured Spider. Bear, I want you to do this run to deliver the goods to the Royal Mambas at the end of this week. I’ll give you the details when I set it up with the Royal Mambas punkster,” Stan says, nodding.

  “Right,” I say, crossing my arms.

  “The new bar, Blue Nights, the bar that we bought from old man Paxson, is now open and up and running under our management. I want you to make time to stop in and check it out. I want a report in two days. I would like to have a brother to manage the current manager Ron,” Stan says, looking around the table.