by S. Nelson
Riley had asked me why I was coming around suddenly trying to get her to talk to me, and while I gave her a general excuse of her being on my mind lately, it was more than that.
I’d had a dream a month back, one that felt so real, I’d woken up in a cold sweat. I’d been driving along a dirt path when I spotted a group of people up ahead of me, everyone dressed in black and gathered in a circle. I pulled my bike up behind them and nudged my way through the crowd. I remember feeling a gut-wrenching despair, like whatever these people were hiding was meant to destroy me. When I finally busted through, I saw an open coffin. I closed my eyes as I moved toward it, and when I pried my lids open, I saw Riley inside of it, her eyes open and watching me. She wasn’t dead, yet she was. No one around me could see her eyes move as she continued to watch only me. She didn’t say anything, but I felt her calmness, almost like she was telling me she forgave me… for killing her.
It was the oddest dream I’d ever had, and it continued to terrify me. I shuddered even thinking about it in the light of day.
The very next day, I started to concoct some sort of plan to get back into Riley’s life. At first, I told myself that if being friends with her was all that ever occurred, I’d be content with that, but I’d been lying to myself. I would never be truly happy until she was mine.
And if she somehow agreed to be with me again, I’d tell everyone about us, including Stone.
Consequences be damned.
Typing out another text, I hit send that time.
Me: Thanks for cutting my hair
Placing my phone on top of the bar, I didn’t take my eyes off it, waiting impatiently for her to reply, which she did ten minutes later.
Riley: No prob
That was it. I remembered a time she would send me the lengthiest texts, so long I had to hit view all to see everything she wrote. But what did I expect? For her to go on and on, striking up a random conversation with me when I knew she could barely stand to be around me?
The small win was that she texted back and that’s what I focused on.
“Hey.” Jagger sat down next to me, tapping the top of the bar for Trigger to get him a beer. We tried relieving Trigger of his duties one time, not wanting to constantly depend on him to serve us, but it didn’t work out so well. Several of us went overboard, got rip-roaring drunk and drank a hefty amount of the alcohol stored behind the bar. I thought Trigger was going to shoot every one of us. We never helped ourselves again.
“How’s it goin’?” I asked, jerking my chin in his direction.
Jagger was a cool guy, one of the more mellow of the group. It was because of him and his wife, Kena, that most of us kids had learned sign language. From what I’d been told, she’d contracted a viral infection when she was a baby, and it ended up damaging the nerves in her larynx. She could hear just fine but had never spoken a word in her life. She communicated with people through sign language or by text or just writing something down, depending on who she was talking to. Harrison and Evan grew up knowing sign language, so to them, and to us, Kena was, well… just Kena. No one viewed her inability to speak as a hinderance or an inconvenience.
“No complaints.” He took a swig of his beer before turning toward me, resting his arm on the bar. “You okay? You look like you got something on your mind.” I wanted to talk to someone about what was going on with Riley, but I had to keep that shit to myself, for now.
“Just thinkin’ about work. Nothing fun.” My smile fell flat and I prayed he didn’t call me on my bullshit. He didn’t, focusing on his phone more than our conversation. After replying to a text, he took another gulp of his drink and slid the bottle away from him.
“You up to go tonight?” he asked, barely paying me attention before answering another message.
“Yeah. I just wish they’d stop dickin’ around with Linc’s schedule. He wasn’t supposed to fight until tomorrow.”
“I hear ya. It’s why I’m goin’ back and forth with Kena. She has to work late at the restaurant again, Harrison needs a ride for his shift and I gotta meet with Linc soon for a session before the fight.”
When Kena’s father passed away five years ago, she had to take on additional duties in order to help her mom out with their family restaurant. Kena typically took care of the books but also waited tables and cooked when they were short-staffed. Both their boys had part-time jobs there, so that was a help. Besides, if the place lasted, it’d be passed down to them one day.
“Anything I can do?”
“Nah, but thanks.” Jagger typed out another message, tossed his cell on top of the bar and ran his fingers through his dark blond hair. “Never ends,” he mumbled before hopping off his stool and walking away, leaving me alone again to contemplate how to handle the situation with Riley.
17
I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the smell of these places. The combination of smoke, body odor, and mildew filled the air as soon as we walked into the building. Downstairs where the fighters waited was worse. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve said someone relieved themselves in the hallway and I’m not talkin’ about piss.
Holding my shirt over my nose, I walked into the second room on the right.
“It’s not that bad,” Linc said, shaking his head when he saw my half-covered face.
“The fuck it ain’t. It literally smells like shit out there.”
“Rico said they had a busted sewage pipe, that’s why.”
Rico was one of the guys who helped to run the fights, organizing dates and times as well as the opponents. At first glance, he didn’t look like a personable guy. With a shaved head and permanently placed scowl, it was enough to make others think twice before approaching him. He wasn’t a tall guy, standing a couple inches shorter than my six-foot frame, but his presence made up for his lack of height. Maybe it was his surliness. Maybe it was the fact he didn’t say much. Either way, people didn’t fuck with him. Linc had no complaints about him, so in turn, neither did any of us.
“Well, hopefully your next fight is somewhere else.”
“Oh, don’t be a pussy.”
I waved him off and sat in the only chair in the room. I checked my phone for the hundredth time that day, hoping to see a text from Riley, but still there was nothing. Not that I honestly expected her to reach out to me on her own. The only message I’d sent her was the one thanking her for cutting my hair. While I wanted to see her again, I didn’t have a valid excuse. Showing up with Ace at her job that one night was excusable because I hadn’t come alone. Then again when I saw her at her house, I’d come along because her brother had invited me. And lastly, when I showed up at the salon for the second time, I used the excuse I needed a haircut, which hadn’t been a lie.
“You wanna make another wager?” Ace strolled through the door, looking right at me with a grin plastered on his face.
“Hey, I think I should get a cut of that, too,” Linc shouted, saying something to Jagger who just finished wrapping his hands.
“You get enough already.” Turning my attention to Ace, I said, “We’ll discuss the time once we see who he’s fighting.”
“You know I’m gonna win regardless, right?” Linc asked.
“Yeah but depending on who you’re up against will say a lot about how long it’ll take you to win,” Ace replied.
“It’s Boraz,” Jagger chimed in, inspecting Linc’s hands once more before applying Vaseline to his face, focusing on his nose and beneath his eyebrows. If Boraz landed a blow, the substance wouldn’t lessen the pain from the guy’s hit but would help prevent some shots from causing damage to Linc’s face.
“Boraz? I don’t think I’ve seen him before.” I looked to Ace. “You?”
“Nope.”
“He’s a big fucker, but he’s had issues with his left knee, so he shouldn’t be hard to take down, and quickly,” Linc said, looking rather confident, not that this cockiness wasn’t justifiable. He was undefeated, after all.
With the information
I had about Boraz, I should’ve bet Ace a shorter time frame for Linc to win, but I took one look at the size of the guy and wagered ten minutes.
The fight was over in five. Linc focused his attention on Boraz’s bad knee and disabled him sooner than I thought possible.
Ace got me for a hundred, the same amount I’d won from him not long ago.
As Linc was announced as the winner, I saw Brick weaving through the rowdy crowd of spectators. Watching people’s expressions was comical, their eyes widening right before they stepped out of his way. Most of them probably thought he was one of the fighters, and while I’d seen Brick in action before, he preferred not to have to raise his fists.
“What are you doin’ here?” I asked as soon as he walked up next to me. We were getting ready to leave this area when he appeared.
“I didn’t have anything goin’ on, so I thought I’d swing by.” Brick watched as Linc jumped out of the ring, huddled close to Jagger. “It’s over already?”
“Yep,” Ace answered. “And you owe me some money.” His statement was directed at me, of course.
I pulled two fifties from the inside of my cut and slapped them in his hand. “I’m gonna win that back next time.”
“We’ll see,” he said, grinning like he’d won the damn lottery.
“Let’s go.” Jagger walked past us and followed Linc toward the office where he’d pick up his winnings. Everyone scrambled out of our way, and it had everything to do with the cuts we wore, identifying which club we belonged to. From time to time, some drunk asshole would try and start some shit with us, and depending on the circumstance, we either walked away without a second glance or put him in his place. Even though the Knights Corruption wasn’t involved in anything illegal, some folks viewed us as rebels or criminals, the club’s history having something to do with that.
My dad had filled me in on some of what the club went through to become legit. Depending on the topic, he’d give me some of the details or he would skim over the subject altogether. When I asked him if he ever killed anyone, he’d get quiet, then tell me, “We dealt with shit we had to,” never elaborating.
Jagger, Ace, Brick, and I waited in the hallway for Linc to reappear. To pass the short time, Ace figured it would be funny to start in on Brick.
“You ain’t got nothin’ better to do than hang out here? Don’t you have a woman you could entertain instead?” Brick wasn’t a stranger with the ladies, but I hadn’t seen him with anyone in a while. He used to mess around with some of the strippers from both Indulge and Flings, but now when he went to either of those establishments, he kept it all business.
“I was gonna check and see what Chelsea was up to tonight.” His face deadpanned and I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. We all knew Ace was interested in Chelsea and she in him, but they weren’t together.
“What?” Ace barely kept his anger in check, stepping closer to Brick, the vein in his neck starting to thicken. He was a decent-sized guy but nothing compared to Brick. Shit, none of us were, except for Tripp and even he was smaller.
“Why? Do you think I shouldn’t?” Brick cocked his head slightly to the side, his face still expressionless.
“I think it’d be a bad idea.”
“She fuckin’ someone?” If I hadn’t been staring at Brick, I would’ve missed the quick twitch of his upper lip.
Ace’s fists clenched at his sides, and I feared he’d do something stupid if Brick continued, so I stepped in.
Placing my hand on Ace’s shoulder, I leaned in and said, “He’s just messin’ with you. He’s not interested in Chelsea.” I turned my attention to the large man next to us. “Right?”
“Right.” Then a full smirk appeared on Brick’s face, but the realization he wasn’t truly interested in Chelsea barely tamped down Ace’s temper.
“Fuck you, man.” Ace walked away from our group and pulled out his cell, no doubt to get in touch with the woman in question.
“He is too easy.” Brick laughed and leaned against the wall, taking in our surroundings as we continued to wait.
Finally, Linc waltzed out of the office with his bag thrown over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
He walked down the hallway first, followed by Jagger, then Brick, then me, with Ace being last in line. We were almost to the back door when Linc ran smack-dab into someone coming out of the women’s restroom, stopping the rest of us in our tracks. When I peered around the guys in front of me, I saw the girl we encountered at one of Linc’s other fights.
The one who he wanted to help.
The one who was involved with the Reapers.
The one who was now sporting a healing black eye.
She wasn’t alone for long before Griller appeared along with Rock and some of their buddies, glaring at Linc before looking to the rest of us. Last time, I’d been able to talk him down before anything escalated, but there was a different vibe in the air tonight.
Griller seized the girl’s arm and jerked her roughly behind him and toward one of his buddies I hadn’t recognized. I swore they multiplied like cockroaches in that club.
“I told you to get your own pussy.” He breached Linc’s personal space and shoved him so hard he knocked into Jagger, who also took a step back. Had Linc been anticipating the bastard was gonna lay hands on him, I had no doubt he wouldn’t have budged from his spot.
Words were one thing, but when someone laid their hands on one of us, we had to retaliate. Two of their guys rushed forward the second Linc dove at their leader, and before I knew it, people were screaming around us while fists flew everywhere. Everything happened so fast, I barely had time to focus on who I punched before I was on to someone else. Brick stood off to the side seeing as how there were four of them and five of us. Besides, he counted as two men for how large he was, and he would’ve probably killed one of them without meaning to and then we’d really be in some shit.
One of them pulled a gun, but thankfully Jagger saw it and knocked it out of his hand, hitting the guy with a sharp upper cut. Jagger and Linc, being trained fighters, could’ve taken all four of the Reapers, but it wasn’t fair to put it all on them, so Ace and I joined in, finishing them off one by one.
The fight between our clubs lasted less than three minutes, which was plenty of time to do enough damage. Brick shoved one of the bastards who stumbled toward me while ushering the rest of us out of the building.
“Fuck!” Jagger shouted, clutching the side of his head. “Prez is gonna flip out once he finds out what happened.” More expletives flew from his mouth, but I couldn’t understand why he was this upset. We’d been warned not to instigate anything with them, but he had to understand our need to defend ourselves, right?
“We don’t have to mention anything,” Ace said, touching the corner of his lip before wincing. While we’d all held our own, even won the damn fight, in my opinion, we wore the evidence of the scuffle on our faces.
Jagger had a bruise forming high on his cheekbone. Linc was gonna have a shiner on his left eye. Ace’s lip was split. And while my nose wasn’t broken, blood continued to drip from my nostril, staining my white shirt. I was also going to be left with a nasty bruise, the area around my right eye starting to swell.
“There’s no way we can hide this from Marek,” Jagger told us. “We have to prepare a game plan for when they retaliate.”
“Who says they will?” I asked.
Jagger looked dead at me. “Trust me. They will. They’ve been looking for a reason. And it ain’t gonna be pretty.”
I thought he overreacted to the fight, but there were things about the dynamic between our two clubs us younger guys still weren’t privy to, and I didn’t think we ever would be.
One thing was for sure, I wasn’t telling my dad about what happened here tonight.
I’d leave that up to Jagger.
18
Was it possible for someone’s eyes, which were normally blue, to darken to black? Because I swore Prez’s did. I couldn’t remember a time
when I saw him this furious.
As I looked around the room, the older guys had their heads hung low, their shoulders tensing as if they were preparing themselves for something dramatic.
With a worried gaze, I looked to Linc first, who shrugged at me, then to Ace and Brick. None of us seemed to comprehend why the others appeared so downtrodden. Nobody seriously got hurt.
Our leader’s fist connected with the solid wood of the tabletop, the sound reverberating around the room and making most of us flinch.
“What part of keep your distance from the Reapers was lost in fuckin’ translation?” Marek locked eyes on me first, then Ace, Brick, Linc, and finally Jagger. “You of all people know the consequences of what can happen,” he barked. Jagger didn’t say a word; instead, he kept his mouth shut and nodded.
“It was just a fight.” The moment my words flitted through the air I regretted them.
“It’s not just a fight,” Marek shouted. “You have no idea the shit this club has gone through because of them. You don’t know how many times our lives were in danger, how many times one of us was left for dead.” He glanced over at Tripp when he said that. “Fuck! Two of our men from this very charter died because of those bastards.” His reference to Zip and Breck, Cutter’s son, wasn’t lost on any of us.
He punched the table once more, the tension mounting in the room to a suffocating level. “Don’t sit there and tell me it was just a fuckin’ fight. You don’t know anything. When I tell you not to do something… DON’T!”
Everyone else kept their mouths shut, which was something I apparently should’ve done in the first place. I realized now that even though some of what he said confused me, I would never make light of a run-in with the Reapers ever again, no matter how small.